One Night

The night deepened.

Waste Hall had fallen completely silent. Only the muffled rumble of the earthfire churning in the fire pit behind the courtyard drifted faintly over.

Li Ping'an rose from the edge of his bed, walked to the door, and cocked his ear to listen for movement outside.

No one.

He then went toward the neighboring rooms, pressed himself against the wall, and listened carefully for a while.

He Lü's snores were steady, and there was no sound at all from the other disciples' rooms. They were truly sleeping like the dead.

Only after confirming that no one else was awake did Li Ping'an turn and return to his room.

He first bolted the door shut from the inside, then went to the window and carefully sealed the old wooden shutters tight, leaving not even the slightest crack.

Even after that, he was still uneasy. He bent down by the door crack and listened once more.

Outside was utterly still.

Only then did Li Ping'an let out a long breath and reach into his robes.

The two Body-Tempering Pills he had refined with his own hands lay safely there.

He took out the pills and spread them across his palm.

By the faint moonlight filtering through the window, the two pills gleamed softly, round and full. Compared with the five failed pills from the exploded furnace, they were as far apart as heaven and earth.

Li Ping'an stared at the pills in his hand for a moment.

He did not hesitate.

Tilting back his head, he dumped both Body-Tempering Pills into his mouth in one go and swallowed them with a gulp!

The instant the two Body-Tempering Pills entered his stomach, Li Ping'an sat cross-legged on the bed.

A warm current spread from his stomach, slowly seeping into his limbs and bones.

It was completely different from the feeling of taking those two hammer blows on the mountain road.

Back then, it had hurt.

Hurt so badly he had nearly collapsed to the ground.

But now there was no pain. It was warm, as though someone were soaking him from within in hot water. It felt wonderful.

Li Ping'an closed his eyes and turned his awareness inward.

The medicinal power traveled bit by bit through his meridians. Whenever it encountered a blockage, it paused, slowly dissolved it, then continued onward.

Slow.

Truly slow.

Compared to the hammer's force, which blasted everything open in an instant, the power of these pills was exceedingly gentle.

Li Ping'an understood.

Swinging the Heaven-Tempering Hammer directly at his body wasted quite a bit of strength. The toxic fumes, impurities, and spiritual energy all had to pass through his body.

But the effect was immediate—one hammer blow raised him by two realms.

Pills, on the other hand, were absorbed steadily and evenly, but slowly.

It took an entire night to equal someone else's single hammer blow.

He was in no hurry.

He had all night, after all. The door was bolted, the window tightly shut, and everyone outside was sleeping like dead pigs.

Li Ping'an settled his mind and guided that medicinal power little by little throughout his body.

Time passed bit by bit.

The moon outside the window slowly shifted from one end of the eaves to the other.

The muffled rumble of earthfire churning in the fire pit behind Waste Hall passed through several walls. It was not loud, but it became a soothing sound.

Black water began seeping from Li Ping'an's pores again.

There was far less than the last time he had been hammered, and it seeped out slowly, bit by bit forcing the turbid qi from his body.

When the sky began to pale with the first hint of dawn, Li Ping'an opened his eyes.

He let out a long breath.

Sixth stage of Body Tempering.

Li Ping'an stretched his limbs, and a string of crackles burst from between his bones.

Compared to the hammer, it really was slow.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Li Ping'an pondered for a while. He examined his body inwardly once more, and his brows gradually furrowed.

Something was wrong.

He had noticed something different.

Those two hammer strikes had raised more than just his realm.

Even his old bones, his constitution that had long since withered away, had been raised along with it.

With each blow, flesh, skin, bones, and blood all rose together. Everything at the root was transformed.

But these pills...

Li Ping'an traced the remaining medicinal power once more.

His realm had risen, but his constitution had barely changed.

It was like adding another floor to a house while leaving the foundation beneath it unchanged.

Li Ping'an's heart skipped a beat.

The difference was enormous.

On the path of immortality, what mattered in the end was not a temporary difference in realm, but one's foundation.

Those with good constitutions found the path smoother the farther they went. Those with poor constitutions would become stuck halfway and be unable to advance.

Countless cultivators exhausted lifetimes of spiritual pills and medicines, spent untold spirit stones, yet still could not make up for that innate deficiency.

With one strike of his Heaven-Tempering Hammer, even his constitution had been tempered anew.

What did that mean?

Li Ping'an clenched his fists, and the heat in his heart flared once more.

This thing was more precious than any divine pill or wondrous medicine.

No wonder it was called the Heaven-Tempering Hammer.

What it tempered was far more than the body—it reforged even one's fate and constitution.

Having understood this, Li Ping'an felt reassured instead.

If he truly wanted to rise in the future, he would still have to rely on the hammer.

The path of pills was slow, and it could not repair his constitution. In the end, it was the inferior path.

But... he still had to continue refining pills.

Not for himself to consume.

These pills contained spiritual energy.

The Heaven-Tempering Hammer absorbed power. It needed something to feed it.

The little spiritual essence in the waste materials was scattered—there might be some today and none tomorrow, and gathering it was troublesome.

But pills were different. The spiritual energy in a single pill was condensed into one mass, convenient to store and ready to feed to the hammer whenever needed.

More importantly, they could be sold for money.

Low-grade Body-Tempering Pills were hard currency even in the inner sect.

With the Heaven-Tempering Hammer in his hands, turning failed pills into good pills was as easy as playing around.

Once he had accumulated a batch, he could find an excuse to sell them. Wouldn't the spirit stones come rolling in?

With spirit stones, he could feed the hammer again.

The wheel would start turning.

The more Li Ping'an thought about it, the more feasible this path seemed.

Outsiders despised Waste Hall for being filthy and unlucky, avoiding it as though it were a plague.

But in his hands, it was a treasure basin.

By the time he had sorted all this out, daylight had fully broken.

Li Ping'an climbed down from the bed and stretched lazily.

There was still no movement from the neighboring rooms. He Lü's snores drifted over in fits and starts, while the other disciples' rooms remained silent. Not one of them was awake.

Naturally. They had done rough work all day and were exhausted. At this hour, they were sleeping soundly.

Li Ping'an did not disturb them.

He quietly pulled back the bolt, pushed open the door, and stepped outside.

The morning mist had not yet dispersed from the open space in the front courtyard, and the air was chilly.

Li Ping'an stopped in the middle of the courtyard and swung his arms.

He wanted to loosen up his muscles and bones.

After cultivating all night, his body had grown stronger, but he still felt a force pent up inside him with nowhere to go.

What should he practice?

Li Ping'an had spent sixty years in the outer sect. He was an excellent blacksmith, but he had never laid hands on a proper cultivation method.

The mantras and cultivation arts for Qi Refinement and Foundation Establishment were things only inner sect disciples were qualified to learn.

Someone like him, with neither talent nor background, could not even get near them.

But...

It was not as if he had nothing at all.

Li Ping'an recalled a set of punches.

That had happened decades ago.

A few years after he had first come up the mountain, he had met an outer sect senior brother in the Servants' Department.

That senior brother had been a decent man. Seeing how hard Li Ping'an worked at blacksmithing and recognizing his honest nature, he taught him a set of punches before leaving.

He said they were for strengthening the body.

Li Ping'an had not thought much of it then. He merely copied the movements a couple of times and memorized them.

Later, that memory lasted for decades.

Whenever he had free time, he practiced the set a few times between bouts of smithing.

And it really was somewhat useful.

For a Body-Tempering cultivator whose qi and blood had withered, the fact that he had lived to this age without working himself to death in the Servants' Department was due in no small part to that set of punches.