Huge Improvement (Seeking Follow-up Reads)

After dinner, Old Fang went to chat with Hu Da.

Fang Shuwen closed the door and adjusted the wick of the oil lamp.

Then, He took a deep breath and summoned the Martial Dao Panel once more.

[Name: Fang Shuwen]

[Attack: 5; Defense: 4; Vitality: 3; Spirit: 3]

[Technique: Soaring Snake Fist (Proficient)]

[Special Effect: Snake Form]

[Skill Points: 10]

Ten points.

He had absorbed energy from that copy of Tales of the Ancient Castle today, gaining eight skill points.

Fang Shuwen's gaze landed behind "Soaring Snake Fist," and sure enough, the previously gray plus sign was now lit up.

With a thought, a prompt appeared before his eyes:

[Upgrade technique "Soaring Snake Fist"?]

[Proficient → Mastery]

[Consume Skill Points: 10]

"It really does require ten points; it's just enough."

The corners of Fang Shuwen's mouth curled up slightly, and he did not hesitate.

"Upgrade."

The moment his thought fell, a sudden change occurred.

This time, it was not a gentle flow of heat, but a more explosive power that detonated within his body.

It felt as if a real Soaring Snake was awakening inside him, its scales scraping against every inch of his sinews and bones, its fangs piercing every acupuncture point.

Fang Shuwen let out a muffled groan, unable to stop himself from gripping the edge of the table.

Starting from his tailbone, his spine began to crack, joint by joint.

It was not the crisp bone-cracking sound from before, but a dull, echoing roar, like someone beating a large drum covered in cowhide.

One sound.

Two sounds.

The third sound followed immediately, not as an overlay, but as a triple-layered resonance, like a thunderclap exploding within his body.

Three-Sound Bone Crack!

Fang Shuwen threw his head back violently, the veins on his neck bulging as a low hiss squeezed out from his throat.

At the same time, dark cyan patterns emerged on the surface of his skin, resembling the outlines of snake scales, before vanishing in a flash.

In his mind, the phantom of the giant snake coiled in the void appeared once again.

But this time, it did not look down with indifference.

Instead, it dove toward Fang Shuwen, its maw wide open, as if to swallow him whole.

A tremor from the depths of his soul instantly engulfed Fang Shuwen.

But the next moment, As if an invisible force had expanded, the towering serpent was suddenly seized by the throat.

The snake's body struggled, but it was to no avail.

It was unknown how much time had passed before everything returned to calm.

Fang Shuwen panted heavily, drenched in sweat as if he had just been fished out of water.

He looked down at his hands.

The veins on the back of his hands were more defined, and the traces of surging blood and qi could be faintly seen beneath his skin.

He clenched his fist.

Crack, crack!

The Three-Sound Bone Crack echoed continuously, the sound deeper, thicker, and more powerful than before.

He stood up, feeling the changes in his body.

Strength, speed, reaction, perception... all had received a significant boost.

If the two-sound bone crack was a sharpened steel blade, then now, he was a siege hammer capable of crushing everything.

If he were to face his former self, he could take him down within ten moves.

"I just don't know how much strength I have now."

Fang Shuwen muttered to himself; he could feel a sense of being reborn.

But he couldn't accurately gauge it yet.

The room was no place to test his strength.

Thinking of this, Fang Shuwen pushed open the door, crossed the corridor, and headed straight for the martial arts arena next door.

The moonlight was like water, spilling over the blue brick floor.

Fang Shuwen walked to the largest stone lock and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

He didn't adopt any starting stance, just stood there casually.

He reached out, gripped the three-hundred-jin stone lock, and lifted it with force.

With a sudden heave of his hand, the stone lock was easily raised with one hand.

"Hm?"

"So light?"

Fang Shuwen put the stone lock down, surprised that a three-hundred-jin stone lock hadn't taken much effort at all.

An ordinary martial artist at the Three-Sound Bone Crack stage usually has a single-arm strength between three hundred and four hundred jin.

Therefore, even lifting a three-hundred-jin stone lock shouldn't feel this effortless.

"My strength has likely increased significantly; this stone lock can't measure it. I'll go check the storeroom nearby."

Steward Chen had not only given him the keys to this courtyard but also the keys to the storeroom here.

The storeroom contained many weapons and equipment used for martial arts training.

He took out the storeroom key, found the lock by the moonlight, and turned it twice; the copper lock clicked open.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a scent mixed with rust, tung oil, and old wood rushed toward him.

Fang Shuwen found an oil lamp by the door frame, struck a match, and lit it.

A dim, yellow halo slowly expanded, illuminating the furnishings in the storeroom.

Several weapon racks stood against the wall, with blades, spears, swords, and halberds arranged neatly.

In the corner, several bulging sacks were piled up, though it was unclear what they contained.

In the center of the open space, a row of copper weights was stacked neatly.

They varied in size; the smallest was marked "ten jin," and the largest, the size of a washbasin, had the characters "one hundred jin" cast onto it.

Fang Shuwen walked to the pile of weights, bent down to pick up the one-hundred-jin piece, and weighed it in his hand; it felt light and effortless.

He put it down and stacked four one-hundred-jin copper weights together.

Four hundred jin.

Still easy.

Fang Shuwen's eyebrows arched slightly.

An ordinary martial artist at the Three-Sound Bone Crack stage has a single-arm strength between three hundred and four hundred jin; lifting four hundred jin should have already started to feel strenuous, and it would be impossible to handle it with such ease as he did.

"Add more."

He stacked the weights to six hundred jin.

At this point, Fang Shuwen's arm finally felt a noticeable weight.

He took a deep breath, twisted his waist, sank his hips, and his spine snapped upward; the six-hundred-jin stack of weights left the ground and was steadily held above his head.

His breathing became slightly rapid, and his arm felt a hint of soreness, but overall, he remained steady.

"Six hundred jin, and that's still not the limit."

Fang Shuwen slowly lowered the weights, and the copper blocks hit the floor with a dull, heavy thud.

Two shallow pits were smashed into the blue brick floor.

He shook his arms and began rummaging through the pile of weights again.

In the corner of the storeroom, there were several discarded old stone locks; the largest one lay in the corner, covered in dust.

It was covered in a thick layer of grime, clearly untouched for a long time.

He moved the stone lock next to the pile of weights and added it to the test.

After about a cup of tea's time of tinkering, Fang Shuwen finally figured out his current limit.

His maximum single-arm strength was approximately seven hundred jin.

With this improvement, his strength had more than doubled.

An exaggerated increase indeed.

He was only one hundred jin away from the eight-hundred-jin threshold of a Bright Force martial artist.

The gap was already very small.

"Hoo, I've only just achieved three bone cracks, so why does it feel like I'll reach Bright Force in less than two days!"

Fang Shuwen couldn't help but mutter to himself.

Bright Force is a threshold in martial arts.

If one can cross it, their status will never be the same again.

During the Great Yin dynasty, a martial artist with Bright Force was worthy of being addressed as "Master."

Fang Shuwen gathered the weights and stone locks back to their original places, dusting the dirt off his hands.

He looked up, and a light screen emerged.

[Name: Fang Shuwen]

[Attack: 7; Defense: 6; Vitality: 5; Spirit: 3]

[Technique: Soaring Snake Fist (Proficient)]

[Special Effect: Snake Form]

[Skill Points: 0]