The setting sun slanted westward, bathing the Fist Academy's blue-brick courtyard in a warm golden glow.
The many disciples at the Fist Academy gradually stopped their training, gathered their belongings, and prepared to head home in twos and threes.
"Junior Brother Chen, you're really dedicated."
An older disciple passed Chen Jing and teased him with a smile. "It's nearly dark. Aren't you planning to take a break?"
"Exactly!"
Another disciple chimed in, his voice full of admiration. "After Senior Brother Chen broke through to the Second Blood Realm, he's been working even harder than before. At this rate, it might not be long before he takes a shot at the Third Blood Realm!"
"If Senior Brother Chen really enters the Third Blood Realm, our River-Breaking Martial Hall will carry a lot more weight in the Outer City. Maybe we won't be one of the five major martial halls anymore—we'll be one of the two!"
The disciples' chatter rose and fell, filled with their respect and high hopes for Chen Jing.
Listening to them, Chen Jing didn't let himself get distracted. He continued practicing his fist in focused silence.
The River-Breaking Fist had grown increasingly familiar in his hands. Each punch cut through the air with a muffled roar, while his qi and blood flowed steadily through his meridians, displaying the solid foundation of a Second Blood Martial Artist.
He practiced for nearly another hour. Only after all the disciples had left and the area had fallen completely silent did Chen Jing finally stop and stand at ease.
He regulated his breathing for a while, slowly calming his surging qi and blood. Sweat trickled from his temples down his cheeks, dripping onto the blue bricks and leaving a small, dark patch.
Chen Jing wiped away the sweat, casually draped the towel