Body Refining Great Accomplishment!

Time passed slowly, and in the blink of an eye, a month had gone by.

Now, inside the training hall, five burly escort guards, as tough as Han Che, each held a gleaming steel blade. After exchanging a serious glance, they turned their gaze to the center of the floor, where Feng Xiu was rolling his wrists, his eyes blazing with fighting spirit.

Feng Xiu was bare-chested, his bronze skin showing smooth, powerful muscle lines. His hands were unusually thick-boned, and his entire aura surged like a pure yang fierce tiger!

"What are you standing around for? Still not coming?"

Feng Xiu hadn't picked up any weapon; instead, he called out to the five in a booming voice, his expression quite surprised.

"One scar, a hundred taels. You don't want free money?"

Seeing them still hesitating, Feng Xiu upped the ante, not sparing a single glance at their cold steel blades.

"Then, young master, forgive us!"

Han Che gritted his teeth. Blades and fists showed no mercy—since Feng Xiu had said so, Han Che wouldn't hold back.

He took the lead, stepping forward with a simple horizontal slash. The blade hummed, its momentum swift as lightning!

Feng Xiu's eyes sharpened. Instead of retreating, he advanced.

His feet shifted into the Eight Trigrams Steps, sidestepping to let the blade pass. His right hand shot out like a viper, aiming straight for Han Che's wrist holding the blade—incredibly fast.

Han Che's expression changed. Before his slash could finish, he adapted, turning the blade to block horizontally.

But Feng Xiu's hand flipped, avoiding the blade. His five fingers hooked like claws, precisely latching onto the pressure point on the inside of Han Che's wrist.

A burst of force surged through the point. Han Che felt half his arm go numb, and the steel blade dropped from his hand. Then a fist came at him, but Feng Xiu easily deflected it.

"Bam!"

Feng Xiu followed up with a casual palm strike to Han Che's shoulder, knocking him back three steps.

The movements were clean and crisp, flowing seamlessly.

"Nice!"

The dozen or so family guards watching from the side cheered in unison.

Han Che steadied himself and immediately looked up at Feng Xiu.

A month ago, Feng Xiu was still a novice who couldn't even execute the Five Force Fist properly. But in that instant just now, Feng Xiu's gaze, technique, and footwork were perfectly natural, without a hint of awkwardness.

"All of you, come at once." Feng Xiu paid little attention to Han Che's shock.

He waved at the remaining four, "Don't just stand there!"

The four exchanged glances and charged simultaneously!

Sharp steel blades came from different angles, the blade light weaving into a net that trapped Feng Xiu in the middle.

Feng Xiu smiled.

This was exactly what he wanted.

In an instant, his form moved nimbly through the blade light like a shadow, dodging every lethal strike. His hands moved like swimming dragons, catching wrists, locking elbows, twisting arms, and seizing shoulders in the gaps of the cold light.

Every move was a ruthless grappling technique.

In just a dozen breaths, the steel blades of the four men lay scattered on the ground.

One was pinned by the wrist, unable to move. Another cried out in pain as his arm was twisted. A third knelt, his shoulder joint locked.

But Feng Xiu wasn't satisfied yet.

He let go, stepped back, and smiled at them, "Pick them up. Keep going."

The men exchanged looks.

Han Che stood to the side, his right hand still tingling and not yet recovered.

He watched Feng Xiu, bare-chested in the center of the hall, steam rising from his body, and felt a daze.

Having truly witnessed this rate of growth, he found it even harder to believe.

In a corner of the room, at a wooden table, Uncle Zheng was focused, brush in hand. Ink lines spread, sketching Feng Xiu's movements as he struck.

"Uncle Zheng, can you really see Big Brother's moves that clearly?"

Beside him, Feng Shouzhuo held a towel, looking at Feng Xiu on the floor, full of confidence.

He tilted his head slightly. Uncle Zheng had already drawn most of a fist technique manual. Curious, he asked.

"The eldest young master has exceptional talent and comprehension. The Five Force Fist he practices already has a master's bearing. I naturally must record it."

Uncle Zheng rubbed his wrist, held up the manual with both hands, and gently blew on the still-wet ink.

Then he looked at Feng Shouzhuo and spoke with a smile.

Feng Shouzhuo heard this, couldn't help but curl his lip, and snorted coldly, "In my opinion, what's the use of practicing all this? Better to go out and have fun."

Over the past month, Feng Ao had completely handed over all family matters to Feng Xiu.

Not only had Feng Xiu grounded him, he had also cut off all contact with his disreputable friends outside.

Every few days, he would spring a surprise academic examination on Feng Shouzhuo, leaving him groaning in misery.

Uncle Zheng listened, and though he had long known Feng Shouzhuo's character, he couldn't help shaking his head at this point.

"Let's just watch." His gaze returned to the center of the room.

After those words, now.

"I'll go!" Han Che took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing his stray thoughts, and gripped his steel blade tightly.

"Everyone coordinate with me!" He turned and spoke solemnly to the group of blade-wielding men.

In that exchange of glances, his eyes inadvertently flickered past one of them, who grinned back, then closed in with a sinister smile alongside the man beside him.

"Brother Han, you're not being honest."

Feng Xiu heard this and let out a silent laugh—this group of Han Che's really did see him as an opponent.

In an instant, Han Che charged ahead once more, his blade fierce, aiming straight for Feng Xiu's throat.

The other four struck simultaneously: two blades sealed off Feng Xiu's retreat, while two slashed toward his waist and ribs!

This time, all five had learned their lesson. No longer fighting individually, they linked their blades in a continuous onslaught, giving Feng Xiu no chance to catch his breath.

Feng Xiu's eyes sharpened, a thrill rising in his heart—this was exactly the kind of desperate fight he wanted.

"Come!"

The next second, Feng Xiu's form crashed into Han Che's chest like a phantom!

Han Che's pupils contracted sharply. In that moment, his blade strike missed completely. Feng Xiu's right hand shot out, fingers hooked like talons, aiming directly for Han Che's wrist holding the blade!

"What, the grappling technique again?"

Han Che gritted his teeth, desperately trying to pull his blade back for defense, but Feng Xiu's hand was too fast.

His five fingers directly clamped onto the blade itself, gripping it fiercely.

"Riiip!"

A harsh screech of tearing metal rang out. The Hundred-Refined Blade, forged from fine steel, had five shallow finger-grooves gouged into it by Feng Xiu's bare fingers!

Han Che recoiled in shock, momentarily frozen, forgetting to react.

The other four were also stunned by the sight.

What the hell—was this even human?

But Feng Xiu gave them no time to gawk.

He spun around and lunged at the nearest man. The man swung his blade hastily, but Feng Xiu didn't dodge at all.

His left hand met the blade edge directly, transforming into a palm strike that sliced horizontally, aiming straight for the man's throat cartilage!

The man's heart tightened, and he tried to retreat, but Feng Xiu swiftly changed his move, grabbing his shoulder blade and twisting it violently.

Crack!

The clear sound of a dislocated shoulder joint rang out. The man screamed and collapsed to the ground.

Feng Xiu didn't even glance back; he turned and charged at the next man.

"Young master's divine might—we submit."

The remaining three were also shaken by this sight. How could they dare to meet him head-on?

They exchanged glances, let out bitter laughs, dropped their blades, and cupped their fists in surrender.

Feng Xiu waved his hand with some lingering reluctance, then walked over to the man with the dislocated shoulder. He reached out and placed his hand on the man's arm.

With a slight push, the shoulder joint snapped back into place. The man's pale face finally improved, and the two beside him stepped forward to help him up.

Then, Feng Xiu walked over to Han Che, who was still standing there dumbfounded, and waved a hand in front of his face.

Han Che remained motionless.

"One in ten thousand..." he muttered to himself. "I still undersold it."

"Brother Xiao Han, what are you thinking about?" Feng Xiu asked with a smile.

"Xiao Han?"

At the address "Xiao Han," Han Che couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

"Yeah, I saw you spacing out for a while," Feng Xiu replied matter-of-factly, not seeing anything wrong with how he'd addressed him.

Back when you were stronger than me, I called you Brother Han out of respect.

But now that you're weaker than me—and as for age, Feng Xiu had never cared about that.

"So, are you hurt?"

"No. The young master's grappling skill is masterful, with strength to spare. I'm humbled."

Han Che shook his head, unable to resist a flattering remark.

Was this still the Five Force Fist?

Pushing out the old and bringing forth the new, it had subtly formed its own school, with no trace of the Five Force Fist to be seen.

In the eyes of the escort team, this was a life-or-death struggle, but to Feng Xiu, it was merely a sparring match.

It seemed that only grappling could subdue the enemy and win without taking their lives.

Feng Xiu smiled at this.

He felt little surprise at being able to defeat Han Che and the others.

Instead, he felt that his combat skills and killing techniques still needed further honing.

So far, the only strange creature he had encountered was that odd fish from before.

The master of Tang Reservoir was still nowhere to be seen, and more experience meant an extra layer of security.

In this regard, Feng Xiu dared not make any bold assumptions, but from a martial arts perspective—

If such a being could supposedly live a hundred meters below the reservoir, ignoring the pressure of the water, how terrifying would its physical strength be?

Of course, Feng Xiu also hoped he was wrong about his hypothetical enemy, but in the end, strength was still the priority!

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, a panel of light appeared before his eyes.

[Life: 17]
[Spirit: 7]
[Strength: 12]
[Agility: 7]
[Technique Record: Eight Sections Vajra Skill (Perfected: Life +2, Spirit +2) Cannot be upgraded]
[Five Force Fist (Perfected: Strength +5, Life +5, Spirit +2)]
[Eight Trigrams Stance (Perfected: Agility +5)]
[Fusion: Perfected (Fusable)]