The strength of a thousand jin

The standard testing hammer felt almost strangely light in his hand.

Tang Wulin looked down at the hammer in his palm, then at the metal pillar ahead, designed specifically to withstand heavy blows. The breath in his chest slowly gathered.

It was not as though he had never tested his strength over the past three years.

But back then, strength had been nothing more than strength. Now it was different. Ever since merging with Golden Jun and truly entering the ranks of Soul Masters, he had felt that the power within him no longer lay hidden solely in his arms. It had sunk deeper into his spine, into his bones. Usually, it lay quietly dormant, but whenever he exerted himself, it pushed upward, inch by inch, along the central axis of his body.

"Begin," Mang Tian said from beside him, his voice low. "Left hand first."

"Yes."

Tang Wulin answered, tightened his left hand around the handle, and slowly exhaled.

He did not rush to strike. First, he planted his feet firmly, loosened his shoulders and back, and let the weight of the standard hammer settle gradually into his wrist. Then he turned halfway to the side and, just as he did whenever he raised his hammer, wound the strength of his entire body upward through his legs, waist, and back.

The next moment, the hammer swung up.

In that instant, he distinctly felt a thread of heat suddenly shoot out from deep within his tailbone and sweep up his spine, fleeting yet brilliantly vivid. Immediately afterward, something seemed to give his entire left arm a gentle push. The strength he had already gathered into a single point was forcibly driven another half inch forward.

The hammer fell.

Bang!

A tremendous crash suddenly exploded through the small testing room.

The slender graduated column at the back shot upward. A silvery line surged straight up so fast it was almost dizzying to watch. Even the metal base trembled slightly. The echoes ricocheted between the four walls several times before slowly fading.

Tang Wulin's ears rang faintly from the impact, and the web between his left thumb and forefinger went numb. It did not hurt; it was merely the jolt of strength packed too solidly together.

Then a cold electronic voice sounded:

"Striking force: four hundred and eighty-three kilograms."

The room went abruptly quiet.

Tang Wulin froze for a moment. Mang Tian said nothing at all. He merely tilted his head slightly and watched the graduated column that had just dropped back down, his gaze gradually deepening.

Four hundred and eighty-three.

At this time last year, Tang Wulin's explosive strength had only just exceeded two hundred. Now, in barely a year—or, more accurately, in the mere few days since merging with his Soul Spirit—his left arm had surged to this level in one leap.

This was not steady growth. His strength had abruptly doubled.

And this was only his left hand.

Mang Tian slowly drew a breath, suppressing the flicker of surprise in his eyes, and said only:

"Right hand."

Tang Wulin transferred the hammer to his right hand.

This time, his heart was beating noticeably faster.

Not from nerves. Even he wanted to know just how much force his right hand could now deliver.

The handle pressed into his palm once more.

He planted his feet, turned halfway sideways, lowered his shoulders, twisted his waist, and raised his arm.

The instant he exerted himself, that familiar current of heat returned, just as expected. This time, however, it was faster and deeper than before. It was as though something had suddenly awakened at his tailbone, rushing all the way up his spine and thrusting every joint in his body open in an instant.

There was even a faint, almost inaudible pop in the air.

The next instant, the hammer smashed down.

Boom!

This blow sounded deeper and louder than the last.

The entire Strength Tester shuddered, and even the metal graduated column at the back quivered slightly. The slender column of liquid surged upward almost violently, shooting past the previous reading in one breath and still climbing.

Tang Wulin stood where he was, his right arm faintly numb, unconsciously softening his breathing.

The electronic voice soon announced the result:

"Striking force: five hundred and forty-three kilograms."

Even Tang Wulin himself was stunned when the number was announced.

Of course he knew he had grown stronger.

But he had never imagined he would be this strong.

Over five hundred kilograms amounted to a full thousand jin of force. Although this was an explosive strike delivered with the momentum of a swinging hammer, and did not mean he could easily lift more than five hundred kilograms, it still far exceeded the limits of what a nine-year-old child should possess.

This time, Mang Tian did not speak immediately.

He stood there in silence for a long while before finally murmuring:

"...Little Monster."

Tang Wulin looked up at his teacher, a trace of lingering shock still in his eyes.

"Teacher, can I... learn Thousand Refinement now?"

Only then did Mang Tian come back to himself.

He looked at his disciple, his gaze momentarily complicated.

Completing his first Thousand Refinement at fifteen, with Soul Power above rank twenty, had once been the proudest achievement of his youth. It was precisely because of that feat that people had called him a forging prodigy.

Yet the child before him was nine years old, a One-Ring Soul Master, with explosive strength exceeding a thousand jin in both arms.

In terms of strength alone, he already had enough to reach the threshold of Thousand Refinement.

After a long while, Mang Tian finally nodded.

"Come with me."

By the time they returned to the forging room, it was completely dark outside.

Only a single work lamp was lit. Its light fell across the Forging Platform, making the metal edges gleam brilliantly. Mang Tian did not have Tang Wulin start immediately. Instead, he took a piece of silvery-white metal from a nearby rack and placed it in the center of the Forging Platform.

The metal was only a foot square, its edges straight and even. Its surface had a soft, understated luster, with a quiet, substantial quality.

"Heavy Silver," Mang Tian said.

Tang Wulin nodded.

Of course he recognized it.

Over the past three years, he had worked with quite a few metals, and Heavy Silver was certainly familiar to him. Usually, though, he saw smaller pieces that had already been cut. A whole piece of high-quality Heavy Silver like this was a rarer sight.

"This piece has already been purified," Mang Tian said. "Its quality is excellent. It's just right for attempting Thousand Refinement."

As he spoke, he tapped the metal's surface lightly with his fingers.

"Thousand Refinement doesn't simply mean striking a metal a thousand times. If all you do is swing a hammer a thousand times, that's hard labor, not Thousand Refinement."

"True Thousand Refinement involves three things."

"Removing impurities, consolidating, and sublimating."

He spoke slowly and clearly.

"First, force the impurities out of the metal bit by bit. Then hammer its structure tighter, compressing its density further inward. Once you've taken both steps to their utmost limits, the metal will undergo a genuine transformation. That change doesn't happen on the surface, but in its bones. Only when you reach that point can you call it Thousand Refinement sublimation."

Tang Wulin listened quietly, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

His teacher had explained these things in bits and pieces before. In the past, though he had understood the words, there had always been a barrier between him and their meaning. He had known they were still far beyond his reach. Now things were different. The Heavy Silver lay right before him, and the doorway to Thousand Refinement had truly appeared at his feet.

Mang Tian glanced at him and continued:

"Take tungsten steel, for example. The usual sublimation after Thousand Refinement makes it heavier and harder. Its volume shrinks and its structure becomes tighter, yet its weight actually increases."

"Beyond that, better sublimations can produce different properties. Smoother Soul Power conduction, more stable ductility, or a particularly pronounced improvement in one specific aspect. The better the sublimation, the more valuable the metal."

"And Heavy Silver's greatest inherent strength is its Soul Power conduction."

Mang Tian lightly ran a finger along the edge of the silvery-white metal, as if emphasizing his point.

"But it has one flaw. It's too heavy."

"For the same volume, Heavy Silver weighs far more than ordinary metals. If you only use it to make ordinary components, its excessive weight will slow down the whole assembly. But if it undergoes true Thousand Refinement sublimation, there's a chance to turn that 'heaviness' back into an advantage."

He paused here, his gaze settling on Tang Wulin.

"And right now, weight is the last thing you need to fear."

A gentle warmth stirred in Tang Wulin's chest. He said nothing, merely tightening his hands.

Mang Tian continued:

"As for techniques, there are none."

Tang Wulin was slightly taken aback.

"None?" he could not help asking.

"None." Mang Tian looked at him, his tone level but certain. "Thousand Refinement has no techniques you can memorize. Even if there were any, they would belong to someone else, not you. If you copied them, at most you'd learn their outward form, not what lies within."

"What you must do is speak to it."

"Treat it as something alive, and listen to the response it gives you after every strike. Where it's loose, where it's tight, where its temper is stubborn, where it's nearly reached its limit—you must listen for all of that yourself."

"Thousand Refinement is also called intent forging. What you forge isn't the surface, but the grain running within it."

After saying this, he spoke no more.

The lamplight fell across the side of his face, making his already stern features seem even graver, and the entire forging room grew quieter still.

Standing there, looking at the Heavy Silver on the bench, Tang Wulin suddenly felt even his breathing slow.

His teacher had given him no demonstration.

He had not struck the first blow for him, nor told him where that first blow should land.

Everything had been left in his own hands.

Entrusting him with this was not carelessness, but trust.

Precisely because he had reached Thousand Refinement, no matter how much others taught him, they could only bring him to the doorway. To truly step through it, he would have to rely on himself.

"Teacher," Tang Wulin said softly.

"Hmm?"

"I'll succeed."

Mang Tian glanced at him. He offered neither praise nor discouragement, merely replying evenly:

"Start hammering first."

Tang Wulin smiled.

The next moment, he reached out and pressed the switch on the Forging Platform.

The Heavy Silver slowly slid into the Forging Furnace.

A red glow rose from the furnace opening, deep and dim at first, then gradually brightening as it slowly swallowed the silvery-white metal in intense heat. Tang Wulin stood before the furnace, watching the metal gradually redden while swiftly reviewing everything he knew about Heavy Silver.

It came from depths of a thousand meters beneath the sea.

It was exceptionally heavy.

It only became ductile at high temperatures.

Its Soul Power conduction was excellent.

To achieve Thousand Refinement, he could not rush.

He went through these points one by one in his mind, his breathing gradually steadying along with them.

When the Heavy Silver inside the Forging Furnace began to take on the soft red hue best suited to hammering, Tang Wulin finally raised his hand.

Silver light flashed.

The Star-Sinking Hammer settled silently into his palm.

This time, he did not reach for any other hammer.

Because, now that he had reached this stage, this was the one he ought to use.