Fuhu Fist

Chen Mo lowered his gaze.

[Fuhu Fist: The fist contains the roar of a tiger, imbued with imposing power]

[Comprehension: 0/50 (Not yet initiated)]

The description was simple, yet it filled Chen Mo with infinite imagination.

If one steps onto the path of martial arts, can one truly soar through the heavens and traverse the earth?

He pondered to himself.

For an ordinary person, comprehension of martial arts techniques should be close to zero, but according to the explanation of Mountain and Water Cultivation, he could improve his comprehension of Fuhu Fist by polishing Crude Iron.

The ironware found everywhere in the furnace room contained Crude Iron, and he could complete the improvement without alerting anyone.

The ten-day deadline.

He certainly wouldn't reach a level capable of opposing Black Tiger Hall, but if he could demonstrate martial arts comprehension and be accepted by a martial arts school or scouted by a martial arts master, his grain tribute might be reduced.

After all, Black Tiger Hall would not want to offend their peers in the martial arts world.

Fearing the strong and bullying the weak is the way of the world.

He pulled his thoughts back.

Chen Mo began to stoke the fire again, and the Crude Iron in the furnace gradually turned red.

Everything was as usual, without the slightest hint of anything special; it was no different from his daily chores of stoking the fire.

He remained patient; after all, the golden text that could manifest directly in his mind could not be anything ordinary, nor could it be false!

An hour passed, and three iron billets in the furnace had been heated, yet the comprehension of Fuhu Fist in Chen Mo's mind had not changed.

The two overseers returned from drinking, reeking of alcohol, and began to curse wildly.

Suddenly, one of the overseers raised his whip and brought it down without warning onto the back of a shirtless, thin man, causing an immediate scream and tearing his skin.

This was only because the man had set down an iron billet he was carrying to rest for a moment.

Yet, the man did not resist; he picked up the hot iron billet again and moved with difficulty, his entire frame seemingly on the verge of falling apart.

The furnace room fell deathly silent, everyone filled with trepidation.

This time it was the thin man; who would be next?

This time it was a whip; what weapon would be used next?

This is the sorrow of the weak.

However, Chen Mo would never slack off under the eyes of the overseers, and since stoking the fire was now equivalent to polishing his comprehension, he was even less likely to be negligent.

"Listen up, all of you! Whoever slacks off again, it won't just be a matter of a whip. Next time, I'll break your fingers, then your legs, and it wouldn't be impossible to offer you as a living sacrifice!"

One of the overseers cursed as he walked over to Chen Mo, raising his whip into the air, but it did not fall.

Chen Mo glanced at the whip from the corner of his eye while continuing to stoke the fire, never stopping his movements.

Before long, the overseer grinned, put away his whip, and walked off to patrol elsewhere.

In this kind of probing enforcement, if it were someone with a weaker temperament, the moment their movements faltered, the whip would have followed.

Another two hours passed, and the tenth iron billet was more than half heated.

A flash of golden light suddenly crossed Chen Mo's mind, and he focused his attention on it.

[Thousand Hammer Refinement, Mountain and Water Cultivation]

[Fuhu Fist: The fist contains the roar of a tiger, imbued with imposing power]

[Comprehension: 1/50 (Not yet initiated)]

After three hours of toil, the comprehension of Fuhu Fist had finally made a breakthrough.

Chen Mo felt a surge of joy inside, but he did not show it.

Now, when he recalled the first movement from the manual, it felt as if the fog had been cleared away; although it was still somewhat hazy, at least he was no longer completely clueless.

"Young man, aren't you going to eat?" Master Wu asked from the side.

Chen Mo pulled back his thoughts. "I'm not hungry yet. I gnawed on a hard bun before leaving this morning and still have one on me. I'm thinking about how to practice Fuhu Fist."

Master Wu nodded slightly. "Hmm, you can't rush it. Many have fallen while trying to initiate their fist techniques; ordinary people shouldn't expect results for a year or a year and a half."

After speaking, Master Wu left the furnace room. There was a quarter-hour break at noon when everyone would go to fill their empty stomachs.

Only a few people remained in the furnace room.

Chen Mo continued to bury his head in stoking the fire.

During this time, Chen Mo needed to control the furnace temperature based on the state of the iron billets, which could also be considered a part of polishing the Crude Iron.

He immersed himself in the polishing, like an old monk entering meditation.

The twilight was like ink.

In the evening, as the others left one by one, Chen Mo remained in the Iron Furnace Room, not only tending the fire but also placing the red-hot iron billets onto the anvil to forge them.

He thought to himself that this forging was closer to the concept of refinement, and perhaps it would yield even better results.

He did not know how much time had passed when a faint sensation of warmth emerged deep within his abdomen, something he had never experienced before.

[Thousand Hammer Refinement, Mountain and Water Cultivation]

[Fuhu Fist: The fist contains the roar of a tiger, imbued with power]

[Comprehension: 6/50]

Chen Mo exhaled a puff of hot air.

He opened the pages of the Fuhu Fist manual and read carefully, discovering that he now understood nearly ten percent of the move essentials that had previously left him completely bewildered.

He had gained a preliminary comprehension of the Fuhu Fist, but to truly master it, he had to put it into practice and throw some real punches.

In other words, the refinement from Mountain and Water Cultivation and the actual practice of the martial art were both indispensable.

He rolled up his sleeves and began to throw punches.

The Fuhu Fist consisted of eight forms, each with its own focus. According to the book, if one mastered the seventh form, their punches would carry the sound of a tiger's roar.

Today, he would only practice the first form: Stone-Crushing Strike.

Following the illustrations in the book, he threw a punch. His movements were sluggish, his muscles and bones felt numb, and he lacked the fluid grace depicted in the drawings, let alone any sense of steady power.

If once wasn't enough, then twice; if twice wasn't enough, then ten times, a hundred times!

In any case, he had Mountain and Water Cultivation; for him, there was no such thing as a threshold for martial arts, and he would surely succeed.

Proper martial arts were different from the Turtle Fist he had swung around wildly as a child; every single move required focused intent.

Chen Mo translated the insights gained from [Thousand Hammer Refinement, Mountain and Water Cultivation] into the essentials of the technique, making subtle adjustments each time. As the intent behind the moves surfaced in his mind, the stiffness gradually faded away.

Two hours passed, and it was already late at night. Chen Mo could now execute the first move fluidly. Setting aside how precise the form was or how strong the force behind it, at the very least, the awkwardness was gone.

"As expected of a proper martial art, it is far more cunning and pure than the way I used to exert force while working. Still, it's just a flashy display for now; I need to practice it many more times."

He muttered to himself.

Chen Mo left the furnace room, finished his training for the day, and headed toward home.

On the way, he couldn't help but feel sore all over.

Halfway there, he saw a familiar figure standing not far away.

"Sister!"

Chen Mo immediately ran over.

It was Chen Lan. She was wearing thin clothing, her arms wrapped around her shoulders in the cold wind.

"Why are you so late today? I thought something had happened to you..." Seeing Chen Mo, Chen Lan wiped the corners of her eyes and then smiled.

Chen Mo suddenly realized his negligence. Chen Lan had been worried about his safety and had gone out alone at night to look for him; the danger of that was self-evident.

In the future, if he were to return late, he must tell his sister.

"I'm fine, it's just that the Iron Furnace Room has been a bit busy lately. Sister, did you run into any bad people while you were out alone?"

"I just ran into Huang E..." Chen Lan said, still shaken.

"Did he give you any trouble?" Chen Mo frowned.

"There were still pedestrians on the road, so he didn't lay a hand on me, but he threatened me again, saying that if the tribute grain isn't handed over in nine days, he will... do something to you." Chen Lan's expression was grim.

Chen Mo let out a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, Sister, I will find a way."

Chen Lan nodded slightly, assuming her younger brother was just trying to comfort her.

The two walked toward home. On the way, Chen Mo silently repeated the name Huang E in his heart, a flash of killing intent appearing on his face before vanishing instantly.

He had a premonition that the environment in Black River Town had reached its limit. Sooner or later, he would have to confront the Black Tiger Hall; he would either carve out a bloody path or become just another skeleton among the thousands.

Run away? It wasn't as if no one had tried, but the surrounding area was entirely under the influence of the Black Tiger Hall. Those who tried to escape were, at best, crippled, and at worst, left to rot in the wilderness.

As for the dark clouds hanging over Black River Town, it was just a matter of who would be the one to tear them apart.