Extreme Cultivation

The morning light of dawn bathed the earth, while hazy mist still lingered deep within the Da Qingshan Mountains.

In a hollow formed by two connected peaks, verdant branches swayed in the wind, leaves rustling softly in the air. On this open expanse of land, any conflict seemed trivial.

Crackling sounds, like beans popping, shattered the quiet, accompanied by low whooshes of displaced air, breaking the natural stillness into fragments.

On a clearing in the woods, a tall youth stood with both feet planted firmly on the ground, his body half-bent as he struggled to hold his position, as if bearing some immense pressure. The crackling noise came from the hard earth beneath his feet.

Before him, floating three meters in the air, hovered a girl with dark green hair.

Her hair was slightly wavy, her pretty face still carrying a trace of childishness. A shimmering emerald glow radiated from her body, and the pressure on the youth came from that very light.

"Meixia, keep increasing the pressure!" Mu Yang gasped for air, his expression resolute as he gave the order.

Meixia looked at his sweat-drenched appearance, hesitated for a moment, then said softly, "Senior Brother, this is about enough."

"It's fine, increase the pressure!"

His voice remained unwavering.

"Oh!" Seeing she couldn't talk him out of it, Meixia pouted, raised her hand, and continued applying pressure to Mu Yang. As a faint green light emanated from her entire body, the force bearing down on him intensified sharply.

Whoosh! The immense pressure hit him, and Mu Yang's body sank abruptly. He gritted his teeth, his legs trembling.

"Barely... still holding."

Mu Yang withstood the crushing force, managing to endure it.

In this era where technology was underdeveloped, without adopting some practical methods, even spending years training wouldn't yield noticeable progress. Mu Yang had a clear understanding of his own talent—among Earthlings, he was decent, but far from a genius. Coupled with the fact that Earthlings' potential couldn't compare to the powerful cosmic races, if he trained step by step without urgency, he would eventually be swept away by the tides of the times.

So, starting a year ago, he had consciously trained with weighted gear.

Later, when he discovered that Meixia's Psychic Power was telekinesis, he came up with the novel idea of having her apply her ability to his body...

Using Psychic Power as a means to increase the pressure on himself.

With the patience of dripping water wearing through stone, he gradually strengthened his body.

Though primitive, this method seemed reliable to him, because tempering the body had almost no shortcuts.

As for whether his developing body might suffer from excessive external pressure, like forcing a seedling to grow by pulling it up, he had initially worried. But doing things required some spirit of adventure—hesitating and fearing every risk while hoping for success? Where in the world was such a bargain?

From the original story, Son Goku and Krillin trained with sandbags since childhood without apparent ill effects. Well... on second thought, Krillin ended up pretty short. Was that genetics, or did the pressure stunt his growth during development? Did Earthlings simply not suit this kind of extreme training? At least Son Goku, with his Saiyan bloodline, didn't have that problem.

Mu Yang thought it through: he'd try it for a while, and if any adverse effects appeared, he'd stop immediately. He didn't want his handsome body to end up under 1.6 meters!

After a few months, Mu Yang found that aside from a massive increase in appetite, his height during puberty was shooting up steadily, completely unaffected by the weights. This put his worries to rest.

Then he moved on to even more extreme training...

"Huff!" Letting out a long breath, feeling the soreness spreading through his body, Mu Yang glanced at Meixia. That was enough for today—he understood the principle of going too far. Treating his body as if it were made of iron was pure arrogance, and it might actually break him.

So he signaled her to stop.

Receiving the instruction, Meixia immediately withdrew her Psychic Power. As the green light faded, her anti-gravity floating hair also fell back down.

Mu Yang stood still, regulating his breathing. After a moment, the soreness gradually faded.

He turned back with a smile and said to his greatest contributor, "Hard work today. What reward do you want?"

Meixia beamed, her voice crisp as she replied, "Really? Then I want Senior Brother to prepare a barbecue for me, with lots and lots of delicious food."

Thinking of the golden, crispy roasted meat and the unknown seasonings sprinkled on top, Meixia felt her stomach protesting, drool practically flowing.

Such a simple little one.

Mu Yang glanced at Meixia and readily agreed.

"Alright, today I'll personally barbecue for you, as much as you want."

"Mmm." Meixia squinted her eyes and smiled.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Meixia's father, Aisafu, was hidden behind a sea of trees, quietly watching their training. He nodded from time to time with a gratified smile, then vanished in a flash.

A few days later, in the martial arts building of the Tianxin Style, several senior members of the style gathered to discuss the training of their disciples.

"The medicinal herbs in storage are running low. If we don't arrange for people to enter the Primeval Mountains to collect more soon, the children's medicinal baths will be interrupted starting next month."

The speaker was a middle-aged woman with black hair tied up, appearing around forty years old. She was one of the six Tianxin Style disciples of Aisafu's generation, responsible for resource allocation within the style.

"Gone that fast again?" a man beside her exclaimed in surprise.

"With over a dozen disciples consuming them together, how could it not be fast?" The woman shot back, glaring.

The man choked, then fell silent sheepishly. This was what set their style apart from others—the rate of resource consumption was simply too high.

But equally, the benefits were obvious: it laid a stronger foundation for the disciples.

"Yula, how many more days can the remaining resources last?" Aisafu, as the head of the Tianxin Style, asked.

The middle-aged woman named Yula flipped open the warehouse records and said, "If we stretch it, about ten more days. But the pressure will be heavy after that—over half the resources will run dry within a month."

Aisafu tapped his fingers lightly, then said in a grave tone, "We can't stop training the children. How about this: in two days, Xis and Cal, you'll take the lead and head deep into the Primeval Mountains to replenish the resources." With that, he glanced at Xis and Cal beside him.