Jiang Ye Tastes the Sweetness of the Marrow!

Deep within the Zhang Family manor, inside a bedchamber with doors and windows tightly sealed.

A heavy, almost suffocating scent of medicine mingled with a faint, metallic tang of blood, swirling through the stagnant air.

On the bed, Zhang Xu looked as pale as gold paper, his eyes shut tight. His chest was wrapped in thick white bandages, through which faint bloodstains still seeped, while his lower body was carefully covered to hide the unsightly trauma.

His breathing was shallow; were it not for the extremely slow rise and fall of his chest, he would be indistinguishable from a corpse.

Beside the bed, an elderly man with graying hair and a gaunt face slowly straightened up, withdrawing the final silver needle—as thin as a cow's hair—from an acupuncture point on the crown of Zhang Xu's head.

His movements were steady, his fingertips showing not a tremor, yet the exhaustion of a night spent in treatment was etched clearly across his brow.

He was Wang Qingshui, a renowned physician in Anxi County known for his miraculous hands.

Summoned in the dead of night by the Zhang Family steward in a frantic rush, he had been forced to muster every ounce of his focus and skill to deal with the horrific injuries Zhang Xu had sustained, despite the heavy reward offered.

Wang Qingshui wiped the fine beads of sweat from his temples with a clean white cloth and carefully washed his hands before turning around.

Zhang He had been standing in the shadows at the foot of the bed, his face as dark as water, his gaze locked onto Wang Qingshui's face as if trying to extract news of his son's survival from every subtle expression.

Beside Zhang He stood a young man clad in a pale cyan brocade robe.

He was taller and more imposing than Zhang Xu, with a face that bore a five-part resemblance, yet his brow was broader and his nose bridge higher. He lacked Zhang Xu's frivolous arrogance, possessing instead a sense of steady competence; this was the Zhang Family's eldest son, Zhang Tao.

At this moment, Zhang Tao's brows were equally furrowed, his eyes darting between his unconscious brother and his father.

"Doctor Wang..." Zhang He's voice rang out in the silent room, strained and hoarse. "My son... how exactly are his injuries?"

Wang Qingshui met Zhang He's gaze, which was heavy enough to drip water, and sighed inwardly.

Wang Qingshui hesitated for a moment, weighing his words carefully before speaking with caution:

"Patriarch Zhang, your son's... injuries are indeed extremely grave. His chest suffered a massive impact, resulting in fractured ribs and internal hemorrhaging, compounded by the risk of drowning and asphyxiation."

He paused, observing Zhang He's expression, and continued:

"Fortunately, the treatment was timely. This old man has used the Golden Needle Meridian-Guiding technique to stabilize his heart pulse and clear the fluid from his lungs, supplemented by secret medicinal poultices and internal tonics. His pulse is weak, but it has stabilized."

"With the wealth of the Zhang Family, you surely lack no tonics. If he rests quietly for a period, his life should be out of danger."

"However..." Wang Qingshui's gaze involuntarily swept over Zhang Xu's lower body, hidden beneath the thick quilt. "Your son's lower body suffered excessive trauma; I fear that in the future, he will be unable to..."

Though he spoke with tact, anyone with sense understood the implication.

Zhang Xu was ruined; he would never be a man again.

"Damn it!!!"

Before Wang Qingshui could finish, an irrepressible roar exploded through the room.

Zhang Tao's face was twisted with rage, the veins on his forehead bulging. He stepped forward, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, as if he meant to shatter his fury against the air, putting on a display of deep brotherly affection.

"That Liu Qingshi and Su Chen are truly damned! To let their daughter act so recklessly and mutilate my brother to such a state!"

"They clearly have no regard for our Zhang Family!"

"I will never forgive them!"

His voice was filled with thunderous indignation, though how much of it was genuine remained unknown.

Zhang He did not immediately respond to his eldest son's outburst.

He remained standing where he was, his figure like cast iron, his face shrouded in an impenetrable gloom.

The room was left with nothing but the sound of Zhang Tao's heavy breathing and Zhang Xu's barely audible gasps.

A suffocating silence stretched on for a long time.

Zhang He let out a deep sigh and patted Zhang Tao on the shoulder. "From now on, the Zhang Family will have to rely on you."

Having said this, he seemed utterly exhausted and, unwilling to spend another moment in the room, turned and walked out.

The next day, before dawn had broken.

In the gatehouse of the Martial Academy, Jiang Ye had already risen.

He stood before the window, his aged eyes gazing at the pale, fish-belly white light emerging on the horizon.

Recalling the absurd events of last night, he still felt a sense of dreamlike, hazy disbelief.

Especially when his mind involuntarily drifted to Liu Yiyi—whose face was usually as cold as snow but had been flushed with heat last night—or Su Yan, with her eyes that always held a gentle smile and her soft, tender lips...

"Cough, cough..."

Jiang Ye gave a couple of awkward, light coughs.

He subconsciously pressed his stiff legs together.

His old face couldn't help but flush slightly.

People are like this; before having experienced it, he could live alone for seventy years, his heart as calm as the water in an ancient well, never feeling the hardship.

But after the "battle" last night, having tasted the marrow, he found himself unable to control this aging body.

"This is truly going to be the death of this old man."

He muttered something silently, then quickly shook his head, forcibly dispelling those untimely distractions.

The biting air of early morning filled his lungs, bringing a touch of clarity.

Daring not to dwell on it further, he immediately took a stance in the open space before the door, calmed his heart and spirit, and began to practice the set of Five Animal Fist that had been etched into his very marrow.

Tiger crouches, deer gallops, bear leans, ape climbs, bird soars.

Each move and stance flowed with seamless perfection; as his intent sank into the principles of the fist, his blood and qi surged in response.

Only through the pure control of his body and the circulation of his power could he temporarily forget those chaotic thoughts and restless instincts.

"Five Animal Fist proficiency +5."

"Five Animal Fist proficiency +5."

"Five Animal Fist proficiency..."

About half an hour later.

Jiang Ye slowly withdrew his stance and stood still, his aura rounded and full. The feeling of overflowing power and meticulous control that came after breaking through to the Dark Jin stage last night had become even clearer.

Host: Jiang Ye
Lifespan: 85
Strength: Dark Jin (Early Stage)
Fate: Ascension Stairway [Effect 1: Superb Comprehension]
Martial Arts: Five Animal Fist [Great Success, 86/1000]
True Intent: Tiger Walk Like Sickness, Spirit Ape Thousand Changes

He glanced at the system panel, a flash of satisfaction appearing in his eyes.

Having successfully broken through to the Dark Jin stage last night and reached Great Success in his fist technique, he had gained another five years of lifespan.

My strength still needs consolidation, and the nourishment of blood and qi cannot be interrupted.

Feeling the blood and qi within him gradually calm down, Jiang Ye mused to himself, "I'll go buy some after the academy closes today."

The four Blood Replenishing Pills he had snatched from Xu Tao of the Wild Wolf Gang were all gone. If he wanted to keep his cultivation progress from falling behind, it was time to use that five thousand taels of silver to make a big purchase.

As the sky brightened, Jiang Ye went to open the academy gates, taking up his role as the gatekeeping old man.

To his surprise, the first person to arrive at the academy today was not Shi Lei, but Lin Xiaohe.

The girl looked as if she had just finished a hurried jog; her bangs were slightly damp, and her cheeks were flushed.

She clutched an oil-paper parcel tightly in her hand, heat radiating through the paper, carrying the faint, charred aroma of flour and sesame, like a freshly baked flatbread.

"Morning, Old Man Jiang."

After approaching the gate, Lin Xiaohe greeted Jiang Ye, which was a rare occurrence.

She didn't rush into the academy as impatiently as she usually did; instead, she stood outside the gate, looking somewhat uneasy, her gaze occasionally darting toward the direction of the long street, her fingers unconsciously kneading the oil-paper parcel.

Jiang Ye shook his head slightly.

As someone old enough to be cunning, he knew at a glance what Lin Xiaohe was up to.

She was waiting for Shi Lei.

One could only say that this girl's skin was truly thick to a certain degree.