Bai Ye's Special Training

The next day, at 4:50 in the morning.

The sky was still dark, and the training ground was washed stark white by high-intensity floodlights.

Hua Yin arrived on time. He had changed from his casual clothes into a tank top and shorts for special training, his fringe slightly damp with morning dew.

However, to his surprise, besides Bai Ye—who had his hands in his pockets and leaned against the horizontal bar as though he could never wake up—there were two familiar figures on the training ground: Sun Haoran and Zhao Tiezhu.

The two of them were also dressed in neat training gear. They were huddled together, whispering about something, but the moment they saw Hua Yin, they immediately grinned.

"Hua Yin, morning!" Sun Haoran called out.

"What are you two doing here...?" Hua Yin asked in surprise.

"Eh, it's vacation. We've got nothing better to do anyway."

Sun Haoran rolled his wrists and chuckled. "Captain Wang said Bai Ye was personally 'training' you. We figured that if we trained alongside an S-rank genius, maybe some of that luck would rub off on us and help us improve. Besides, the more the merrier. At least we'll have company when we get beaten up, right?"

Zhao Tiezhu added in a booming voice, "Exactly! That Scarface King rattled my hands numb last time. I need to train too! Bai Ye's combat experience has to be better than us figuring things out on our own!"

Their reasons sounded casual, but Hua Yin could feel the unspoken support and determination to stand beside him.

Warmth rose in his heart, and he nodded. "Then... let's do it together."

Bai Ye, leaning against the horizontal bar, lifted his eyelids and glanced at the three of them. He let out an ambiguous snort through his nose, apparently accepting the addition of two more "punching bags."

At exactly five o'clock, Bai Ye finally straightened up and sauntered over to the three of them.

At some point, several wristbands and anklets had appeared in his hands. They seemed to be forged from some kind of metal, matte black from end to end, with a simple design.

"Since you're all here, you follow my rules."

Bai Ye's gaze fell on Hua Yin. He casually tossed a set of wristbands and anklets at him. "Here. A little 'welcome gift.' Put them on."

Hua Yin caught them. They felt slightly heavy and ice-cold, neither gold nor iron, with intricate spirit patterns engraved across their surfaces.

He did as instructed, fastening the wristbands around his wrists and the anklets around his ankles.

The instant they clicked shut—

The spirit patterns on the bands abruptly lit up with a faint dark-red glow!

A mountain-like pressure surged from his limbs in an instant!

It was as if several hundred extra pounds had appeared out of nowhere!

It was not merely physical weight. A strange energy field also bound his muscles and the circulation of his spiritual power, making every movement exceptionally difficult and sluggish!

"These are... Gravity Spirit-Pattern Rings?"

Sun Haoran clicked his tongue. "The General Bureau Equipment Department's newest experimental product, right? Bai Ye, aren't you being a little too ruthless?"

"It's just the basics."

Bai Ye waved a hand indifferently. "A Late Meridian-Opening Realm cultivator should get used to some pressure. This morning: physical conditioning."

Without another word, he gave the order. "Run laps around the training ground with the weights on. You don't stop until I tell you to. Fall below the required pace, and you get extra punishment. Sun Haoran, Zhao Tiezhu, you two put on lighter versions and run too."

Sun Haoran and Zhao Tiezhu grimaced as they accepted visibly thinner bands and put them on, immediately baring their teeth in pain as well.

The inhumane special training had officially begun.

The morning's physical training was pure hell.

Weighted running was only the appetizer. It was followed by frog jumps, shuttle runs, log carries, extreme squats... Every exercise was performed under the suppression of the gravity rings. Bai Ye's demands were brutally strict. The slightest slackening meant extra training.

Sweat soon soaked through Hua Yin's tank top. His muscles were so sore they had gone numb, his lungs burned fiercely, and every breath made sweat pour from him.

Sun Haoran and Zhao Tiezhu were no better off. They were exhausted like dead dogs, but they encouraged each other and gritted their teeth as they kept up.

Most of the time, Bai Ye simply stood nearby with his arms folded, watching. Every so often, he would throw out a mocking remark. "That's all the endurance an S-rank has?" "Zhao Tiezhu, did you not eat enough breakfast?"

Yet his eyes sharply observed their conditions, especially Hua Yin's limits and the movement of his spiritual power under intense pressure.

They only had half an hour to rest and eat at noon. In the afternoon, even crueler combat technique training began.

Bai Ye had somehow acquired a short staff and held it like an instructor's rod.

"Use your blade. Attack me. Let me see your blade techniques, and how you use that bunch of butterflies under heavy pressure."

Bai Ye casually twirled the staff, his posture relaxed.

Hua Yin took a deep breath, suppressing the heaviness in his limbs and the fatigue in his muscles before drawing his Tang Blade.

The blade gleamed coldly beneath the lights.

He stepped forward and slashed upward at an angle!

Even while weighted down, this slash was noticeably faster and stronger than before. The blade tore through the air, leaving a blur in its wake.

However—

A crisp smack rang out.

The short staff in Bai Ye's hand moved after Hua Yin, yet arrived first. Like a venomous snake striking, it lashed with perfect precision against the inside of Hua Yin's wrist gripping the blade!

A sharp pain shot through him. Hua Yin's wrist went numb, and his blade momentum instantly collapsed.

"Too slow! Your intent is too obvious!" Bai Ye's icy voice rang out. "Again!"

Hua Yin gritted his teeth and changed his moves—horizontal slashes, direct thrusts, upward cuts... He unleashed every blade technique Elder Li had taught him, along with the tricks he had developed himself. Blade light flashed fiercely, occasionally accompanied by several Pale Bewitching Butterflies attacking from tricky angles.

But before Bai Ye, it all seemed like slow motion.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

The short staff seemed to have eyes. Every strike landed precisely where Hua Yin's exertion was most awkward and his defense weakest!

His wrist, elbow, shoulder, knee, ankle... Every hit carried a clever force. It not only broke his moves, but also brought piercing pain and numbness.

Hua Yin was beaten into a miserable state, retreating step by step. Countless red marks soon covered his body.

He wanted to use the Bewitching Butterflies to interfere, but the gravity rings seemed to affect his fine control over spiritual power as well. The butterflies' speed and agility were greatly reduced, and Bai Ye casually dispersed them with a single swing of his staff.

"Your butterflies aren't decorations! Under heavy pressure, how can you make them faster? More elusive? How can you coordinate them with your blade techniques to create killing moves? Use your brain! Don't just rely on instinct!"

"A blade is an extension of your arm! You're wearing the rings, so you think your blade has become slower and heavier? Then adapt to it! Find a new rhythm for exerting force! Make the weight part of your blade momentum!"

Bai Ye's shouts and the strikes of the short staff never ceased.

Hua Yin was knocked down again and again, only to climb back up each time. The stubbornness and ferocity in his eyes grew ever stronger.

He began trying to adjust his breathing, searching at his limits for that balance between the circulation of spiritual power and muscular exertion. He tried incorporating the pressure of the gravity rings into his sword swings. Though he was still beaten badly, he could occasionally force Bai Ye to shift his feet slightly.

Sun Haoran and Zhao Tiezhu, watching from the side, felt their scalps tingle.

Their afternoon training consisted of sparring with each other, plus Bai Ye's occasional "guidance," and they already found it unbearable. Seeing Hua Yin's treatment made them shudder even more.

"My god... Bai Ye is training him like he wants him dead..." Sun Haoran rubbed his swollen arm, baring his teeth in pain.

"I'd rather fight Scarface King again..." Zhao Tiezhu complained in a muffled voice as he looked at his bruised calves.

When the day-long special training ended and the sun began to set, the three of them were practically "chased" out of the training ground by Bai Ye.

"Five tomorrow morning. Same as today. Be late, and suffer the consequences." Bai Ye tossed out those words, slung the short staff over his shoulder, and left humming a tune. His back looked as relaxed as if he had merely gone for a stroll.

Hua Yin, Sun Haoran, and Zhao Tiezhu supported one another as they limped toward the dormitory area. Every step felt like walking on knife edges.

"Hua Yin... tomorrow... we probably really can't come..." Sun Haoran said weakly. "This isn't special training. This is murder..."

Zhao Tiezhu nodded furiously. "Can't take it... Brother, take care of yourself..."

Hua Yin tugged at the corner of his mouth, trying to smile, but it pulled at the bruise on his face and made him suck in a sharp breath.

Yet he could feel that although every part of his body hurt, under that extreme pressure, it was as if some shackle deep within his body was loosening. His control over his spiritual power and body seemed a little clearer than before.

"Yeah... You two rest." His voice was hoarse.

After returning to the dormitory, Hua Yin practically relied on sheer willpower to wash up. Then he immediately sat cross-legged, held a Spirit Stone in his hand, and began cultivating his spiritual power.

After extreme exhaustion and pain often came the best time for cultivation.

Spiritual power flowed with difficulty through his depleted meridians, like sweet spring water nourishing parched earth.

The phantom of the Pale Bewitching Butterfly within his dantian slowly flapped its wings, drawing in spiritual energy and sending threads of pure energy into every part of his body.

Who knew how much time passed. When Hua Yin slowly awakened from deep meditation, the sky outside his window was already filled with stars.

The soreness in his body had not fully faded, but his mind was exceptionally clear.

He examined himself inwardly and discovered in surprise that the spiritual power flowing through his meridians had become more solid and abundant than before, while its circulation had sped up considerably.

The phantom of the Pale Bewitching Butterfly in his dantian also seemed to have become somewhat more substantial.

The... peak of the Meridian-Opening Realm?

He could clearly feel the barrier of that realm. It seemed that he was only one suitable opportunity—or one sufficiently intense stimulus—away from breaking through into the Spirit-Nurturing Realm.

Just as joy rose in his heart and he prepared to continue consolidating his cultivation, the phone beside him suddenly began vibrating urgently.

It was an unfamiliar number.

Hua Yin frowned and answered it.

A somewhat familiar middle-aged man's voice came through the phone, filled with anxiety and helplessness. "Hello? Is... is this Hua Yin? I'm Uncle Zhang from next door! You need to come back right away!"

"There's a woman outside your house crying and making a scene. She's been pounding on the door for ages, saying she's your mother! She insists on seeing you. We can't talk her down, and she's about to disturb the whole neighborhood! What should we do...?"

Hua Yin's fingers tightened around the phone at once.

The trace of understanding and warmth that had just appeared in his eyes froze in an instant, turning into the coldness of a deep pool.

Li Xiulin.

She had actually gone looking for him.

It seemed Chen Xu's sentence had come down.

Fine.

He slowly stood up and stretched his still-sore body. There was no anger in his eyes, no grievance—only a calmness born of complete resolve.

Some things needed to be made clear.

Some relationships needed to be severed completely.

He picked up the ordinary hoodie draped over the back of his chair. Without alerting anyone, he silently left the Special Affairs Bureau dormitory and disappeared into Youcheng's deep night.

His destination—the old house he had once called "home," which now held only a key and cold memories.

And the woman he had once called "mother."