Over the next few days, Jiang Fa rose early and retired late, spending all day practicing in the outer courtyard.
Thanks to the boost from his talent, he could make exceptionally good use of the Blood Strengthening Powder's medicinal potency.
Through this beneficial cycle, not only did he feel much less tired, but his vitality and spirits even grew stronger.
Unwilling to fall behind, many disciples from poor backgrounds tried to follow his example.
But they simply could not endure the toll on their bodies, and within a few days, they all lowered their banners and stilled their drums.
The sun rose in the east.
Jiang Fa stood at the edge of the grounds.
He wondered why he had seen Chen Erniu these past two days.
Just as the hour of the Dragon began, the outer courtyard disciples appeared on the grounds one after another.
Li Tie walked over, rubbing his eyes, his hair as messy as a chicken's nest. "Jiang Fa, is your body forged from iron? How can you keep this up?"
Wang Dahu followed behind him, letting out an enormous yawn.
He was just about to say something when a commotion interrupted him.
At some point, a large crowd had gathered in the center of the grounds, packed layer upon layer until they blocked the way completely.
Some stood on tiptoe to peer inside.
Others whispered among themselves, their voices buzzing like a hornets' nest that had been stirred up.
"What's going on?"
Li Tie stopped an outer courtyard disciple who was walking away and asked him.
A complicated expression crossed the disciple's face, equal parts envy and jealousy. "Qin Xuan! Qin Xuan has broken through to Ming Jin!"
"What?!"
Li Tie and Wang Dahu cried out at the same time.
Jiang Fa's heart jolted, and he strode toward the crowd.
He squeezed through the onlookers and finally saw what was happening.
Qin Xuan stood in the very center of the training grounds, holding the Mountain-Breaking Stance. The muscles in his arms bulged slightly, and veins writhed beneath his skin like little snakes.
His face was flushed, veins stood out on his forehead, and his chest heaved violently, his breathing as heavy as an ox's.
Even more shocking, a ring of fine cracks had appeared in the blue-brick ground beneath his feet, spreading outward from where he stood!
"His Qi and blood are boiling, and his force is spilling out. Those are signs of Ming Jin!"
Someone cried out in astonishment.
Before the words had faded, a muffled bang rang out.
Every muscle in Qin Xuan's body suddenly tightened, his entire frame drawn taut to the limit like a fully drawn bowstring.
The next instant, an invisible surge of force erupted from him. The already cracked blue bricks beneath his feet burst apart completely, sending fragments flying!
"Move aside!"
An urgent, low shout rang out, and Zhao Zhong appeared on the grounds like a ghost.
Sweeping the watching disciples aside, he fixed his eyes on Qin Xuan, his gaze blazing.
Qin Xuan's eyes snapped open.
His fists clenched, and a barrage of cracks erupted from every bone in his body, as dense as beans popping in a pan.
He drew a deep breath, his chest swelling high, then opened his mouth and exhaled a column of air like a strip of white silk. It shot straight out more than ten feet before gradually dispersing!
"Breath like an arrow, force flowing throughout the body. Ming Jin is achieved!"
A gratified smile appeared on Zhao Zhong's face, and he nodded repeatedly. "Good! Good! Good!"
The watching crowd erupted.
"Heavens! He broke through to Ming Jin less than two months after joining the hall? Isn't that far too fast?"
"I heard even Eldest Senior Brother Wang Shi took nearly three months back then...!"
"Superior-grade aptitude really is extraordinary!"
Exclamations of amazement and envy rose one after another, every gaze focused on Qin Xuan.
Qin Xuan withdrew his fists and stood upright, the rise and fall of his chest gradually settling.
The oppressive presence around him slowly receded, and he once again became that taciturn, slight young man.
Zhao Zhong approached and looked him over carefully, his smile deepening. "Your breath is steady, and your force is contained within. Your foundation is even a little firmer than Wang Shi's was. From today onward, you will formally enter the Zhao Clan Martial Hall's inner courtyard, and I will take you as my direct disciple."
At these words, another uproar swept through the grounds.
A direct disciple!
Even the senior brothers and sisters of the inner courtyard had not received such treatment!
Qin Xuan dropped to one knee and cupped his fist in salute. "Your disciple, Qin Xuan, thanks you for your guidance, Master."
Zhao Zhong helped him up, swept his gaze over the grounds, and abruptly raised his voice. "Qin Xuan has broken through to Ming Jin today, becoming the fastest disciple to reach Ming Jin in our Zhao Clan Martial Hall in over a decade. You must take him as your example and practice diligently. You must never slack off."
He paused, then changed tack, his tone turning stern. "More than half of your three months have already passed. If any of you still fail to break through by the deadline, do not blame your master for showing no mercy!"
His words were like a basin of cold water poured over everyone's heads.
The disciples who had been enjoying the spectacle lowered their heads, anxiety and fear appearing on their faces.
Zhao Zhong personally led Qin Xuan into the inner courtyard.
The others were left staring at one another.
Jiang Fa said nothing, his gaze calm throughout.
Just then, he happened to catch sight of a familiar figure at the edge of the crowd.
Chen Erniu stood rooted to the spot, motionless, as though someone had sealed his acupoints.
The shadow of a tree covered half his face, concealing his expression, but his eyes remained fixed on the direction Qin Xuan had left in.
His eyes did not move, as though he meant to carve that departing figure into his bones.
Suddenly, he spun around and strode toward a wooden training post in a corner of the outer courtyard.
He settled into his stance and struck the post over and over, every punch landing solidly, pounding dull thuds from the wood.
Once, twice, three times.
After a dozen or so blows, blood was already seeping from his knuckles.
But he seemed utterly unaware, continuing to hammer down punch after punch, as though he meant to vent all the unwillingness in his heart on that wooden post.
Watching his back, Jiang Fa felt an indescribable feeling well up inside him.
For some, the three-month deadline was an opportunity. For others, it was a hurdle they could never cross.
He took a deep breath and walked to the empty patch where he practiced. While no one was watching, he opened his second packet of Blood Strengthening Powder, tipped his head back, and poured it into his mouth.
The bitter medicinal taste burst across his mouth.
He closed his eyes, settled firmly into the Mountain-Breaking Stance, and shut out all distractions.
The morning sunlight slanted across the Zhao Clan Martial Hall's grounds, gilding the blue-brick paving with a faint layer of gold.
Today was the three-month assessment for the outer courtyard's "old disciples."
As always, Jiang Fa had planted himself on the outer courtyard grounds early, diligently practicing.
By the time lunch came around, news arrived.
"In this outer courtyard assessment, only three of the old disciples broke through to Ming Jin and entered the inner courtyard. Master Zhao sent all the remaining dozen or so home."
The dining hall fell deathly silent.
"What about Chen Erniu?"
Remembering that most diligent young man, someone asked quietly.
"He..." The speaker paused, his voice dropping. "He failed the assessment. Apparently, he's already left."
The outer courtyard disciples began discussing it among themselves.
Some said they had seen Chen Erniu pack his belongings and leave, carrying that battered bundle out through the martial hall's gates without looking back.
Some said they had seen him standing in a daze by the city gate, alone beneath the city wall, watching the passing crowds with eyes as empty as a dried-up well.
Others said they had seen him lingering near a Black Tiger Gang branch, circling several times through that dark, damp alley, no one knowing what he was thinking.
Three days later, shocking news arrived.
Someone had discovered a corpse in the moat south of the city.
After examining it, the authorities finally confirmed that the dead man was Chen Erniu.
Upon hearing the news, the voices of the disciples practicing in the outer courtyard vanished instantly.
Everyone stopped what they were doing, as though someone had pressed a pause button.
An outer courtyard disciple declared with absolute conviction, "Apparently, someone saw Chen Erniu throw himself into the river because he couldn't see a way out. The authorities had a hard time hauling him out. His corpse had been soaking for days and was swollen beyond recognition. Only after they got him ashore did people discover that his pockets were stuffed with stones, large and small, at least a dozen of them."
"And his right hand was clenched so tightly around the wooden token the martial hall had issued him that they couldn't pry it open."
It was dusk when the news reached the martial hall.
The sunset's last rays spilled through the window lattice, casting long shadows across the floor.
Everyone exchanged looks, their faces deathly pale.
"I told him long ago. If you don't have the aptitude, you don't have it. Forcing yourself to keep training only leads to death. He would've been better off going home early to farm."
Someone broke the silence.
But no one answered him.
Silence weighed on everyone's hearts like a massive stone.
Chen Erniu's death was like a mirror in which they saw their own endings ahead of time.
Toward evening, a dispirited middle-aged couple appeared at the martial hall's gates.
Both wore shabby clothes, their faces sallow and gaunt, their cheekbones jutting high.
Their eyes were vacant, their spirits lost, as though all their vitality had been drained away, and they supported each other.
These two were Chen Erniu's parents from the countryside.
When the authorities notified them to come claim the body, they had been boasting to others about how well their son was doing, saying he would soon bring them to the inner city to enjoy a comfortable life.
They brought Chen Erniu's corpse to the martial hall gates and knelt there, desperately begging to see Zhao Zhong.
When Zhao Zhong came out, his face showed little expression.
He merely waved a hand, signaling Steward Ma to fetch some silver and give it to the elderly couple.
Then he turned and left without another word.
The elderly couple knelt on the ground, cradling the silver, their sobs tearing at the heart.
In the end, Zhao Zhong had people take them home.
Jiang Fa stood in a corner, watching the elderly couple's stooped figures disappear into the gathering dusk.
He lowered his head and looked at his hands.
He thought again of Chen Erniu's bloodshot eyes, the few white hairs at his temples, and the way he had hammered the wooden post, punch after punch.
He could not help clenching his fists.