At noon the next day, the blazing sun hung high overhead.
Wang Lang stood bare-chested, sweat streaming over his bronze skin and gleaming with an oily sheen beneath the sunlight.
Both hands gripped a thick iron rod, with a stone mill disk larger than a cartwheel fitted onto each end.
This was a barbell he had made himself. Each millstone weighed over two hundred catties, totaling more than four hundred.
From dawn until now, apart from necessary rests, he had been carrying out all manner of high-intensity training.
Squats, presses, deadlifts... his movements were so fast they left afterimages.
The crushing load continuously tore his muscle fibers apart, bringing waves of soreness that sank deep into his bones.
This was the cultivation method he had devised: accumulating Grand Intent by enduring pain.
Within his body, as the physical pain continued, threads of scorching airflow quietly formed and gathered.
This was the Grand Intent transformed from the [Intentional Blast Punch] trait.
Wang Lang could observe inwardly that this Grand Intent resembled tiny specks of golden light,
and also boiling golden vapor, dwelling deep within his meridians and flesh.
Wang Lang had even established a measuring standard for this power:
While enduring sustained pain enough to make him frown slightly, he could accumulate roughly 1 point of Grand Intent every ten breaths.
The more intense the pain, the greater the efficiency. If the pain weakened or his body adapted, the efficiency would decline.
And enduring pain happened to align with the most fundamental cultivation of the Body Refinement path.
The Body Tempering Realm, the foundation of this path, displayed this principle in the most vivid fashion.
The nine levels of the Body Tempering Realm were less nine steps than nine stages in which the body endured and adapted to different degrees of pain.
The first three levels tempered skin, flesh, and tendons. They honed the exterior of the body and endured sharp, external physical pain.
Torn muscle fibers and tendons stretched to their limits brought nothing but pain that cut into the flesh.
It was precisely amid the agony of split skin and torn flesh, amid the wails of strained tendons, that the body's foundational strength, speed, and defense rose markedly.
The middle three levels tempered bones, membranes, and organs. Pain began to travel from without to within, piercing the marrow and shaking the viscera.
It was the dull, heavy pain of bones groaning under immense pressure and internal organs churning like rivers and seas beneath impacts.
Only by enduring such inward torment could one temper bones as hard as iron and stone, and forge fascia containing explosive power.
The final three levels tempered blood, marrow, and acupoints. The pain had reached the microscopic level, touching the very origin of life.
Replacing blood and cleansing marrow was like placing all the blood and bone marrow in one's body into blazing flames to be forged. It was the ultimate pain of shedding one's mortal frame and exchanging one's bones, as though being born anew.
Opening the body's hidden acupoints pushed that pain to its utmost limit.
With boundless agony as a hammer, it forged every acupoint throughout the body into mountains within the human form, built to bear that resplendent, peerless strength.
Only by enduring, adapting to, and surpassing every pain from outside to inside, from surface to core,
could one hammer the fleshly body into a flawless state for its current stage and lay the foundation for condensing a body of bedrock.
This was the perfect synergy between [Intentional Blast Punch] and [Innate Qi].
One transformed pain into Grand Intent that enhanced his attacks, while the other granted him limitless adaptability to endure and surpass every pain.
It was also for this reason that, despite years of arduous cultivation, limited by his body's endurance and recovery speed, he had barely reached the peak of the first Body Tempering level, Skin Tempering.
Only after equipping the orange trait [Innate Qi] last night had he broken through the shackles in one go and entered the second Body Tempering level, Flesh Tempering.
He estimated that at this pace, he would break through to the third Body Tempering level, Tendon Tempering, tonight.
After all, with [Innate Qi] empowering him, he could maintain this efficient, pain-converting tempering almost without end.
However, by afternoon, Wang Lang could clearly feel that the speed at which he accumulated Grand Intent had slowed.
The tremendous adaptability brought by [Innate Qi] had caused his body to begin blocking out those repetitive pain signals it had already conquered.
This directly led to a decline in Grand Intent conversion efficiency.
Yet this blocking affected only his perception of pain. His muscles, fascia, and even the deeper origins of his body
were still truly bearing immense loads, and were thus being tempered more purely and efficiently.
Troublesome... Wang Lang thought.
He knew of more extreme methods, such as self-harm, that could efficiently accumulate Grand Intent,
but those could easily cultivate strange habits. It was inappropriate; he had no desire to become a lunatic.
So be it. I'll accumulate whatever I can. The main purpose is still body tempering.
He was very clear-headed. [Innate Qi], this core trait that allowed him to grow endlessly stronger, was absolutely not something he could remove.
Grand Intent was merely an extra bonus. Better to have it, but there was no need to force the matter if he did not.
"Phew!"
Wang Lang exhaled a long breath of hot, turbid air and gently set down the crude barbell in his hands. The ground trembled faintly.
He walked to the large water vat in the corner of the courtyard, scooped up cool water with a bamboo ladle, and gulped it all down in one breath.
At the same time, he observed the Grand Intent gathered within his body.
By rough estimate, he had already accumulated eight hundred points of Grand Intent.
This meant that he had endured several hundred standard units of pain.
Most of it had come from the highly efficient accumulation period between dawn and noon. The afternoon's growth had visibly slowed.
The power contained within those eight hundred-plus points of Grand Intent made him feel as though a volcano on the verge of eruption lay dormant inside him, waiting only for him to trigger it.
Just as he rested briefly and prepared to plunge back into this cultivation of pain mingled with joy,
a burst of noisy cursing came from the direction of the manor gate.
One voice, shrill as a drake's, was the loudest of all:
"Wang Lang! Get your ass out here! If you don't open up, your grandpas from the Changle Gang are going to give this broken gate of yours a new design!"
Another voice immediately chimed in:
"That's right! We heard Old Wang is dead. Open the gate already, and let your big brothers teach you how to run a household!"
A wave of laughter and filthy insults followed.
Wang Lang frowned, his eyes turning icy. "The old man was buried only yesterday, and these dogs came knocking today... Their news travels fast."
His figure flashed as he rushed toward the manor gate.
Before the gates of Listening Waves Mountain Manor, twelve burly men in varied clothing stood blocking the way, weapons in hand.
At their head stood a scar-faced man named Liu Biao, a minor leader of the nearby Changle Gang.
The Changle Gang occupied Qinglin City thirty li away and specialized in throwing their weight around, extorting protection money, and other such work.
While Old Wang had still been alive, he had once taught Liu Biao and the others a lesson for bullying decent people.
At the time, Wang Lang had suggested cutting the weeds and pulling out the roots. But seeing them beg for mercy and promise never to do evil again, Old Wang had merely punished them as a warning rather than exterminating them all.
"Wang Lang, brat! Get your ass out here!" Liu Biao continued shouting at the top of his lungs, his tone arrogant.
His hands were itching, but he also felt a little reluctant as he looked at the sturdy gate.
This would be his property in the future. If he broke it, would he not have to pay for repairs himself?
With a creak, the gates of the manor were pulled open.
Wang Lang had just finished training, and the heat had yet to leave his body. Muscles bulged beneath his bronze skin,
while an invisible, scorching aura faintly radiated from him. It was the natural leakage of the Grand Intent gathered inside him.
He stepped forward and calmly swept his gaze across the crowd.
The gang members, who had been brimming with arrogance moments ago, wilted the instant that gaze passed over them and they sensed the faint pressure hanging in the air.
Wang Lang looked at Liu Biao, who led them. "Liu Biao, what business do you have at my Listening Waves Mountain Manor?"
Seeing his underlings shrinking back, Liu Biao could not save face. He forced himself to take a step forward.
"Wang Lang! I heard Old Wang was buried just yesterday, so I rushed over immediately!"
Grinning, he greedily swept his eyes over the manor's gate tower.
"Look at how poor you are. You probably couldn't even afford a proper funeral feast, could you? Letting Old Wang leave so cold and desolate—you really are one filial grandson!"
He spat and continued, "Don't say I'm not looking after you. Your run-down manor, I'll buy it for one hundred taels of silver!
"With those hundred taels, you can throw Old Wang a grand funeral feast with dozens of tables. So? Aren't I generous?"
Wang Lang was so angered that he laughed. "You want to buy Listening Waves Mountain Manor for one hundred taels?"
Listening Waves Mountain Manor was Old Wang's ancestral estate.
The manor's main buildings covered more than a dozen mu, with tall bluestone walls and courtyards nested deep within courtyards.
More importantly, the mountains and forests behind it covered over a hundred mu!
Not to mention that the manor itself stood in a secluded, tranquil location, with a scale and layout far beyond any ordinary residence.
"Forget one hundred taels. I wouldn't sell this manor for ten thousand. If you have nothing else to do, get the hell out. Don't foul the road before my gate."
Liu Biao flew into a rage. "Wang Lang! Who the hell are you putting on airs for? When Old Wang was around, we gave him some respect for the sake of his third level Qi Induction Realm cultivation!
Now that he's croaked, you think a little piece of trash at the first Body Tempering level can guard such a vast family estate?
I'm turning this manor into a gambling house later. Be sensible and nod already, or you won't have any good fruit to eat today!"
Wang Lang picked at his ear, his face full of puzzlement. "Nod? Nod for what? Nod to attend your funeral?"
"Damn it! You refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit! Brothers, grab your weapons!"
Liu Biao finally snapped and let out an enraged roar.
The lackeys behind him all brandished weapons such as spiked maces.
Aside from Liu Biao, who was at the second Body Tempering level, the others were ordinary people who had only practiced some crude martial arts for a few days. They had not even touched the threshold of the first Body Tempering level, though every one of them was thick-bodied and strong.
But before they could make a move, Wang Lang had already moved first!
Without warning, his body swayed slightly, and his right fist shot simply and directly through the air at Liu Biao!
The eight hundred-plus points of Grand Intent inside him responded to his will. Roughly fifty points instantly evaporated, transforming into a scorching, explosive, invisible fist force that burst out through his body!
Splat!
Liu Biao, who had been spewing wild boasts only moments before, had his head violently explode!
Red and white matter splattered everywhere. The headless corpse swayed, then crashed to the ground with a thud.
The remaining Changle Gang members were all stunned senseless by the sudden, incomparably ruthless strike.
They had seen it clearly. Wang Lang had not touched Liu Biao at all!
It was fist force leaving the body!
And he had blown apart Liu Biao, a second Body Tempering level martial artist, with one punch?
What the hell was this strength? Third Body Tempering level? Or even higher?
Or perhaps some Qi Refinement method?
The unknown bred tremendous fear.
Ordinary people like them were nothing but lambs awaiting slaughter before Wang Lang!
Wang Lang slowly withdrew his fist. "You'd best not think of running. Whoever runs first, I'll kill first."
Those calm words made the remaining eleven burly men's legs turn to jelly. Forget running—even standing straight was difficult. Several had already wet themselves, and the stench of urine spread through the air.
"L-Lord Wang, spare our lives!"
"This has nothing to do with us! Liu Biao forced us to come!"
Cries for mercy immediately rang out in a chorus.
Yet Wang Lang felt not the slightest compassion.
Had his strength not greatly improved, the outcome today was easy to imagine.
He would not naively believe that they truly intended to pay for the manor, nor did he believe they had kindly come to let him hold a funeral feast.
Once they had drawn in the local villagers, they would likely have used even more vicious means to humiliate him and the dead Old Wang.
In this world, showing mercy to evil people was cruelty toward oneself.
Wang Lang thought at that moment: Old man, if your spirit still watches from heaven, you should see clearly now, shouldn't you?
Your softheartedness did not bring remorse. It brought ever-growing resentment. The moment you were gone, they came for revenge.
So be it. The lesson you did not finish teaching—I'll finish it for you today.
His gaze shifted and fell upon the gang members who were crying and begging for mercy.
"If I slaughter all of you, perhaps a few among you may not deserve death. That would make me as inhuman as you are."
"So, of you eleven, I'll spare the six whose crimes are lightest and send them to the City Lord's Mansion for judgment.
"The rest of you... can only blame yourselves for committing too much evil. I'll personally send you to the Western Paradise."
The instant those words fell, wild joy burst forth in the eyes of the previously despairing men.
Sent to the City Lord's Mansion? How was that any different from being released!
Their gang leader had hands and eyes everywhere in the city. Getting them out would be as easy as turning over his hand!
"Now, confess your evil deeds one by one. I will judge their severity."
Wang Lang casually pointed at the ashen-faced burly man in front. "You first."
The man immediately knocked his head against the ground like a pounding mortar. "I'll talk! I'll talk! Last month, in the south of the city, I robbed an old farmer of his ancestral jade pendant and... and beat him into a cripple.
"When his son came to argue with us, we broke his leg too..."
Wang Lang's eyes turned cold as he looked at the others. "Is what he said true? You may corroborate one another. Those who take the initiative to expose another's lies or add to their crimes, I will likewise consider sparing their lives and sending them to the authorities."
"And those who dare lie or conceal anything..."
Wang Lang glanced at Liu Biao's corpse on the ground. What remained unsaid was obvious.
"My lord! He isn't lying!" Someone immediately rushed to expose him. "But this bastard also forcibly took Old Li's daughter from the tofu shop on West Street. Once he got tired of playing with her, he sold her to a brothel in the neighboring city!"
"Zhao Si, you're fucking lying!" The burly man seemed to have had his tail stepped on, his eyes going bloodshot with panic. "I just hadn't had the chance to say it yet!
"My lord, see clearly! Last month, Zhao Si dragged Old Mother Chen, who was bedridden with illness, from her bed into the fields and buried her alive just to collect loan-shark debts! He's the one utterly devoid of conscience!"
"You're slandering me!"
"You dare do it but not admit it?!"
The two men roared and grappled with each other, and the scene instantly spiraled out of control.
"My lord! Neither of them is any good!"
A sharp-mouthed, monkey-cheeked man took the chance to crawl forward. "Last year, Zhao Si even raped and murdered a woodcutter's daughter outside the city, then threw her body into the mass grave!
"Two years ago, Li Laowu personally smothered two laborers in his trade to death while fighting over territory!"
"And Zhang Mazi!" Another man immediately pointed at a companion beside him. "He specifically ambushes and kills night watchmen at night, just to steal those few coins of night-shift wages!"
"Liu San, what kind of good man are you pretending to be?! Last year, you pushed Widow Wang's son into a well and drowned him, just because she refused to submit to you!"
"Qian Laoba trafficked children!"
"Crippled Sun poisoned wells!"
"Fatty Zhou ate human hearts and livers!"
To stay alive, these villains who usually called each other brothers tore off all pretenses, scrambling to expose one another.
One horrifying crime after another was frantically spilled out, as if whoever spoke too slowly would die on the spot.
Wang Lang watched this increasingly grotesque farce coldly, the killing intent in his heart rising without end like boiling Grand Intent.
He had originally been considering whether he should leave a few alive to send to the authorities, but now it seemed... there was no need at all.
"There is nothing wrong with the strong devouring the weak, but they should not be maggots without any bottom line, who trample everything beneath them!"
A thought, born from a verse remembered from his previous life yet perfectly suited to his state of mind, thundered through his heart:
"Souls..."
Hearing this, several of them thought Wang Lang was about to curse them as bastards. Terrified, they hurriedly dropped to their knees and shouted over one another:
"We're bastards!"
"We're lower than pigs and dogs!"
"We've lost all conscience! We deserve to die ten thousand deaths!"
"My lord, please just treat us like a fart and let us go!"
"This little one is willing to serve you like an ox or a horse!"
"This little one still has an eighty-year-old mother at home!"
"Liu Biao forced us to do it! We're all honest, decent people—we were only muddleheaded for a moment!"
To live, they begged, demeaned themselves, shifted the blame, and played the victim... every kind of voice mingled together, displaying humanity's ugliest survival instinct in all its vividness.
Seeing their grotesque antics, Wang Lang could not help throwing back his head and laughing.
"Souls entwined in dreams, wind and clouds roil; round stars and square earth, the altar of the Three Realms!"
"The gate of life, death, and reincarnation opens; once more, the slaughtering tribulation begins, washing away the dross!!"
As soon as he spoke, his body exploded into the crowd like a streak of golden lightning!
The Grand Intent within him erupted with a boom, pouring in its entirety into both fists!
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Fist shadows whirled through the air, while the sounds of shattering bones and brief screams rang out without cease.
Zhao Si and the brawny man, who had been grappling together, were pierced through at the same time by a blast of fist force, becoming the first two to meet the road beyond.
A moment later, silence had completely fallen before the manor gates.
Eleven members of the Changle Gang lay neatly sprawled across the ground, without a trace of life left in them.
Wang Lang stood amid the corpses, heat steaming from all around him.
His expression was calm, his gaze deep.
He had wanted to keep half of them alive, but who knew that none could be spared.
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