Chen Jing briskly stepped forward and took his place in the center of the training ground.
He drew a deep breath, lowered his body slightly, and immediately settled into his fighting stance. The blood-qi throughout his body sank into his marrow, and his inner force shifted.
A low resonance suddenly rang through his sinews and bones, like a tiger growling or muffled thunder rolling.
Everyone turned to look.
Mei Qinghe exclaimed:
"Marrow refining!"
"Junior Brother, you've reached marrow refining!"
Chen Jing smiled faintly without answering.
The Nine Forms of the Mountain Lord flowed from his hands like drifting clouds and running water.
As different people practiced the same fist technique, it often came to bear their own distinct styles.
Zhang Chengji was solid and steady, Mei Qinghe graceful and agile, Cheng Qingshi fierce and ruthless, while Chen Jing was forceful and domineering.
His body clearly wasn't all that brawny.
Yet his punches and kicks stirred fierce winds, whipping through the air with sharp cracks. Every strike carried an unreasonable, brutish force.
Once he finished the routine, he drew back his fists and stood still, exhaling a long stream of white breath.
Cheng Lianshan smiled at his youngest disciple and said repeatedly, "Good, good, good!"
"Little Jing received Blood-Qi Pills from the Bai Family and hasn't encountered a bottleneck. This is precisely when his blood-qi should be growing rapidly."
"You certainly haven't let your talent go to waste!"
Chen Jing relaxed his stance, cupped his fist, and bowed.
"Thank you for your generous praise, Master."
Seeing that Cheng Lianshan was in a good mood, Chen Jing cupped his fist and asked:
"Master, may I ask what the path of internal arts and qi refining is actually like? How different is it from tempering our blood-qi?"
This was what he was most