Blood-Qi Soup

After registering.

Fang Han took the fist manual, found an empty corner of the training ground, sat down, and began reading it.

The Gale-Breaking Fist had twelve forms. It emphasized punching like the wind and pursued speed above all else.

The moves themselves were not difficult. The manual contained detailed diagrams, techniques for exerting force, breathing rhythms, and coordinated footwork.

Fang Han had attended a private school for two years and could read, so the annotations in the manual were not hard for him to understand.

After carefully reading through the manual once.

The Panel suddenly appeared before his eyes.

A line of text appeared on it:

[Recorded martial art: Gale-Breaking Fist (Mortal Grade)]

The Panel's sudden change delighted Fang Han. When he looked over the complete Panel, he found that it had indeed changed:

[Forged to Excel]

[Name: Fang Han]

[Age: Twenty-three]

[Bone Structure: Inferior]

[Realm: None]

[Comprehension: 97]

[Martial Art: Gale-Breaking Fist (Mortal Grade)]

[Proficiency: 0/100, Not Yet Entry]

[Talent: Unyielding Practice (Never Regresses), Rising Talent (Comprehension Increased)]

What surprised him even more was that the contents of the manual he had just read were now as clear as if they had been carved into his mind. He remembered exactly how the first form began and how to exert force, without the slightest error.

This... he had memorized it after reading it once?

The only explanation for suddenly gaining the ability to remember everything at a glance was the Panel!

[Forged to Excel] was clearly no mere decoration.

Fang Han took a deep breath, closed the manual, and shut his eyes in thought for a moment, running through the twelve forms of the Gale-Breaking Fist in his mind.

Then he rose to his feet and began copying the moves from memory.

The first form, opening stance.

Fang Han raised both arms, bent his legs slightly, and lowered his center of gravity...

The moment he assumed the stance, Fang Han felt incredibly awkward. His limbs were extremely stiff.

It was his body's instinctive response to being unable to keep up with his mind.

Ignoring the discomfort, Fang Han clumsily assumed the second form of the Gale-Breaking Fist, then the third.

He could perform the movements, but there was no force behind them. Every punch was limp and weak.

Fang Han did not lose heart. If once was not enough, then twice; if twice was not enough, then three times.

There in the corner of the training ground, he followed the manual in his mind and repeated the twelve forms of the Gale-Breaking Fist over and over.

He did not know how much time had passed when the sound of a gong suddenly rang out in the distance.

Clang!

"Food's ready!"

Following the sound, Fang Han saw the apprentices across the training ground stop what they were doing and head toward the dining hall.

Only then did he feel his stomach rumbling. After practicing fists all morning, he had expended a great deal of energy.

Fang Han followed behind the crowd and soon arrived at the dining hall.

The dining hall was large, with more than a dozen long tables neatly arranged inside. Quite a few people were already seated.

Fang Han joined the food line. When his turn came, he saw a huge bowl filled with white rice, three pieces of braised beef, a large scoop of greens, and a bowl of Blood-Qi Soup that gave off a medicinal fragrance.

Not bad. The food here was pretty good!

Carrying his bowl, Fang Han found a sparsely populated corner and sat down. Staring at the beef in his bowl, he could not stop swallowing.

The last time he had eaten beef was so long ago that he had forgotten how many years it had been.

For someone like him, a poor commoner living in the slums, precious meat like beef was something he could not even dream of eating.

Fang Han picked up a piece of beef. It was tender, richly flavored, and filled his mouth with the fragrance of meat.

"Damn, that's good!"

Fang Han's eyes grew slightly hot. He lowered his head and wolfed down rice with the fragrant beef.

He quickly finished the large bowl of rice. Still not full, he got another bowl and continued eating voraciously.

Only after finishing his third bowl of rice, his stomach round and full, did he set down his chopsticks and stare at the untouched bowl of Blood-Qi Soup before him.

Lin Rou had told him that morning that this Blood-Qi Soup seemed to sell for twenty coins a bowl.

Twenty coins... His elder brother could carry heavy loads at the docks all day, working himself to death, and only earn ten or twenty coins...

This bowl of soup was worth an entire day of his elder brother's wages.

Fang Han fell silent. Just as he was about to lift the bowl and drink the Blood-Qi Soup, someone sat down across from him.

"You look unfamiliar, junior brother. Did you just arrive today?"

Fang Han looked up and saw a fair, plump fellow squinting at him with a cheerful smile.

"Yes, I registered today."

Hearing that, the man enthusiastically cupped his fists. "My name is Wei Zixiong. I came three months before you, junior brother, so by seniority, I'm your senior brother. May I ask your name?"

Fang Han did not know what the man wanted, but he answered politely anyway.

Wei Zixiong nodded. Then his gaze fell on the untouched bowl of Blood-Qi Soup in Fang Han's hand. A sharp gleam flashed through his eyes as he smiled.

"Senior brother wants to discuss something with you. How about selling your daily portion of Blood-Qi Soup to me? Ten coins a day, paid on the spot!"

Seeing Fang Han remain silent, Wei Zixiong added, "You just arrived, junior brother, and you don't need to practice the Standing Post Skill yet. Frankly, drinking Blood-Qi Soup now would just be a waste.

You should focus on mastering your fist technique first. Once you pass the later assessment and can practice the Standing Post Skill, it won't be too late to save it for yourself.

If you do not drink the Blood-Qi Soup, the martial hall will not refund you. It will only go to waste. Sell your daily portion to me, and you can get ten coins in cash every day. It's a very good deal."

Fang Han looked at Wei Zixiong and sneered inwardly.

Blood-Qi Soup sold for twenty coins a bowl, yet this fat bastard wanted to buy his daily portion for half price. He really dared to dream.

Just as Fang Han was about to refuse, a cold voice sounded.

"Wei Zixiong, are you fooling newcomers again?"

Fang Han looked up and saw that Lin Rou had appeared at some point. With her arms crossed, she glared coldly at Wei Zixiong.

The smile on Wei Zixiong's face froze. He hurriedly gave an embarrassed laugh. "Senior Sister Lin, I was only... discussing it with junior brother..."

"Stop talking nonsense and get lost." Lin Rou sneered, not giving Wei Zixiong any chance to defend himself.

Wei Zixiong's expression turned ugly. After two dry laughs, he got up and left.

After he left, Lin Rou sat down and stared at Fang Han, her tone stern.

"You just arrived today, so there are things you do not understand. I do not blame you. But remember this: stay away from people like him in the future.

Wei Zixiong has been at the martial hall for three months. He has made little progress in martial arts, but he has learned plenty of crooked tricks.

If you associate with him, you will sooner or later waste your time and squander all the silver your family spent on you."

"Thank you for the reminder, Senior Sister Lin." Fang Han cupped his fists and thanked her sincerely.

Seeing that Fang Han had taken her words to heart, Lin Rou's expression softened slightly. She continued earnestly, "It is already difficult enough for someone born poor. Do not let down your whole family's support!"

After saying that, she rose and left.

Fang Han watched Lin Rou's departing back and felt slightly moved.

This senior sister was not bad-hearted after all.

He lifted the bowl of Blood-Qi Soup and drank it mouthful by mouthful.

The medicinal soup entered his stomach, and gradually, a warm current rose from within it and swiftly spread through his limbs and body.

The sensation was extremely comfortable, like soaking in a hot spring. Warmth filled his body, and every muscle seemed to be stretching.

Fang Han was astonished. So this was the effect of Blood-Qi Soup?

No wonder it cost twenty coins a bowl!

The warmth in his body grew more distinct, as though it were nourishing his muscles, tendons, and bones.

Fang Han left the dining hall and returned to the corner where he had practiced that morning. Beneath the blazing noon sun, he steadied himself, focused his mind, calmed his breath, slowly raised his arms, bent his legs slightly, and once again began practicing the twelve forms of the Gale-Breaking Fist with clumsy, awkward, stiff movements.