The days passed like this, one after another.
During this time, Jiang Fa rose before five in the morning and only rested after midnight, cultivating for fourteen to sixteen hours a day.
He practiced his stance in the morning, his fists in the afternoon, and the Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art back in his room at night. His days were monotonous yet fulfilling.
Apart from wolfing down a little food in the dining hall and returning to his room for a brief nap, he spent all his time cultivating.
At first, the veteran inner courtyard disciples would glance his way. After three to five days, they grew used to it. When they happened to meet him, they would occasionally nod, acknowledging his now-familiar face.
Ma Ping and Zhao Chuan also came to train, but neither drove himself as relentlessly as Jiang Fa. Ma Ping trained for eight hours a day, while Zhao Chuan complained of back pain after six. They spent the rest of their time either catching up on sleep in their rooms or dragging Xu Feng out into the streets for a drink.
Xu Feng had already taken a position at the Weiyuan Escort Agency and went out with its escort teams every few days. He had grown a shade darker, but his belly showed no sign of shrinking.
Whenever he returned, he brought word to Jiang Fa that the agency's porters spoke quite respectfully of the Zhao Clan Martial Hall's inner courtyard disciples.
Xu Xiaomeng remained the same as ever.
She appeared at the training grounds on time every day, practiced her stance and punches with meticulous care, and left once she was done, never saying an unnecessary word to anyone.
Jiang Fa had passed her a few times. A mutual nod served as their greeting.
Qin Xuan, however, received the most exceptional treatment. Zhao Zhong often kept him at his side and instructed him privately every day. He had reportedly already begun studying more advanced martial arts.
Whenever anyone caught sight of him at the Teaching Hall, he was always hurrying along, a faint air of aloofness and arrogance on his face.
In the blink of an eye, two months passed.
On the training grounds, Jiang Fa's bare upper body gleamed faintly bronze in the morning light.
Two months of bitter training had left clear marks on his body.
His shoulders had broadened, the once-vague definition of his arm muscles had sharpened, and the serrated muscles along his waist appeared and disappeared with his breathing.
He drew a deep breath, bent his knees slightly, and settled firmly into the second level of the Mountain-Breaking Stance.
Two months ago, his knees had still trembled slightly when he assumed this stance,
and the muscles and tendons along his inner thighs had felt as though an invisible rope were strangling them, aching and swollen.
Now that aching tightness had long since vanished, replaced by a steady sense of strength that ran from the soles of his feet through his waist and hips, then up his spine to his shoulders.
Sinking Jin.
He closed his eyes and pressed all the Jin in his body downward.
His center of gravity sank lower and lower, and faint cracking sounds came from the bluestone slabs beneath his feet,
while even the surrounding air seemed to grow a little stagnant.
Then his eyes snapped open.
Lifting Jin!
The Jin that had sunk into the ground surged back up, roaring through his calves, knees, thighs, waist, and hips like a spring compressed to its limit suddenly snapping free, unstoppable.
Wherever the Jin passed, muscles bulged and veins rose. His entire right arm thickened visibly.
Jiang Fa stamped his right foot forward with tremendous force. The bluestone slab shattered beneath it, sending fragments flying.
His body surged forward with the momentum, and his right fist crashed out like a heavy hammer!
There was nothing fancy about this punch. It was simply the plainest first form of the Mountain-Breaking Fist's eighteen forms,
a straight punch thrust forward.
But the sound of his fist cutting through the air was no longer the low, muffled thud it had once been,
but a piercing crack, like a whip snapping through the air, its sharp report making the eardrums buzz.
The fist mark he had spent two months pounding into the ironwood post sank another half inch under this blow. The post shuddered violently, emitting a metallic hum whose echoes lingered across the empty training grounds for several breaths before fading.
Jiang Fa withdrew his fist and looked down at it.
Ironwood splinters clung to his knuckles, which were slightly red, but his skin was completely intact, without so much as a scrape.
He walked to the edge of the grounds, where a discarded bluestone slab lay. Half a person's height and three inches thick, it was waste material removed during repairs to the courtyard wall a few days earlier.
Gripping its edge with one hand, he heaved. The slab rose off the ground, flipped over, and crashed down heavily, throwing up a cloud of dust.
Jiang Fa planted himself before the slab.
He slowly raised his right fist. Without gathering momentum or taking a running start, he simply stood where he was, sharply twisted his waist and hips, and smashed his fist down.
Boom!
The slab broke in two down the middle, leaving jagged edges.
Jiang Fa straightened and let out a long breath of stale air.
After throwing that punch, he felt clear and unimpeded throughout his muscles and bones, indescribably at ease.
Two months of bitter training, medicinal potency, and sweat had all found release in that single punch.
Feeling the changes in his body, Jiang Fa was filled with an excitement he could scarcely describe.
Since his breakthrough to Ming Jin, the progress on his panel had charged ahead with the aid of Blood Condensation Pills and Blood Strengthening Powder. In two months, he had already covered more than half the five hundred proficiency points required for the Mountain-Breaking Stance's second level.
The hallmark of An Jin was Jin penetrating bone: a palm strike against a stone stele left its surface intact while shattering everything inside.
It was a realm in which Jin passed through flesh and skin to reach the marrow, the dividing line that Ming Jin martial artists dreamed of crossing.
Jiang Fa did not know how long it would take him to reach that threshold, but he could feel himself drawing closer, little by little.
He immersed his mind.
[Talents: Heaven Rewards Diligence, Learning Inevitably Bears Fruit] [Realm: Middle Stage of Ming Jin] [Mountain-Breaking Stance (Mid Yellow Grade) · Second Level (296/500), [Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art (Heaven Rank, Upper Grade) · First Level (340/1000)] [Mountain-Breaking Fist (Mid Yellow Grade) · Minor Achievement (399/500), Cloak Saber (Mid Yellow Grade) · Entry (102/200)]
After two months of bitter training, the progress on his panel had changed noticeably as well.
He was over halfway through the Mountain-Breaking Stance's second level, and his realm had reached the Middle Stage of Ming Jin,
while his Mountain-Breaking Fist was not far from Major Accomplishment either,
but the Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art alone crawled like a snail. Cultivating a Heaven Rank art was far harder than he had imagined.
More than five full months had passed since he obtained the art, yet he had not even reached the halfway point, despite his talents allowing him to make steady progress.
The good news was that, although Jiang Fa had yet to cultivate its first level to Perfection, the toughness of his muscles, bones, skin, and membranes was already far beyond that of an ordinary Ming Jin martial artist.
Jiang Fa had tested it in private. An ordinary blade drawn across his skin could only leave a white mark; it took a forceful slash to injure the flesh beneath.
During this period, the martial hall allowed its inner courtyard disciples to choose another martial art to study according to their needs.
Jiang Fa selected the Mid Yellow Grade Cloak Saber Technique from the martial hall's art repository.
Outside his usual fist practice, he devoted himself to training this saber technique.
He had used up all four Blood Condensation Pills and five packets of Blood Strengthening Powder several days earlier, and now the silver in his pockets had run dry as well.
Without medicinal assistance, his cultivation progress began to slow.
The Black Tiger Gang's repayment deadline was also drawing near.
His regular stance training required resources, and cultivating the Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art required even more.
Even a hero could be brought low by a single missing coin.
Toward evening, Jiang Fa ran into Xu Feng on the training grounds.
Xu Feng wore a brand-new black martial outfit with a palm-wide cowhide belt around his waist, looking considerably sharper than before.
He had just returned from the Weiyuan Escort Agency. His face still bore some travel-worn fatigue, but his spirits were high. The moment they met, he pulled Jiang Fa toward the exit.
"Come on, come on, Jiang Fa. Let's go drinking."
Jiang Fa had intended to decline, but Xu Feng grabbed his arm without allowing any argument. "Enough talk. My treat."
Rather than going to the Immortal Gathering Pavilion, they found a small roadside tavern.
The shop was small, with only four or five square tables. A large iron pot sat on the stove, its mutton offal soup bubbling away, filling the room with a rich, gamey aroma.
Xu Feng ordered a pot of yellow wine, two bowls of mutton offal soup, and a plate of braised beef. He poured Jiang Fa a cup, then tipped his own head back and downed half a bowl.
"These past few days have really worn me out."
Xu Feng wiped the wine from his mouth and let out a long breath. "My father's little bit of standing at the Weiyuan Escort Agency was only enough to squeeze me in as a porter. Guess what I've been doing these last ten days?"
Jiang Fa shook his head and lifted his cup for a sip.
The yellow wine went down smoothly but had a powerful kick, spreading warmth from his throat all the way to his lower belly.
"Escort jobs." Xu Feng held up two fingers. "Just two. One to Willow River Town and one to Black Stone Gully. Both short trips, no more than three days there and back. Guess what I ran into?"
"Bandits?" Jiang Fa asked.
"Not bandits, though close enough. On the trip to Willow River Town, we ran into a gang of road bullies at Falling Stone Shoal. Seven or eight men, led by a rogue cultivator at the Middle Stage of Ming Jin with a notched ringed saber. My calves went weak right then. The escort captain stayed calm, though. He went up and exchanged a few words with them, and in the end, they only let us pass after we paid five taels of silver in tolls. We ran into them again on the way back and paid another five."
He paused, picked up a piece of braised beef, and stuffed it into his mouth. Only after chewing a few times did he continue indistinctly, "Later, I asked the captain why we didn't fight them. He said those men were the local snakes of Falling Stone Shoal. Drive them off, and someone else would take their place. Better to spend a little silver for safe passage. Besides, the wool comes from the sheep's own back-the escort fee already had the tolls factored in."
Jiang Fa held his wine cup, looking thoughtful.
When the mutton offal soup arrived, he scooped up a spoonful and drank it. The broth was rich, with the pepper and coriander masking most of its gaminess, and it warmed his whole body as it went down.
Xu Feng took another gulp of wine, then suddenly lowered his voice, the joking expression on his face fading somewhat.
"Still, escort work really does make you grow faster than training in the martial hall. Not your cultivation-your nerve."
"I used to think Ming Jin was already impressive. In some small places, a Ming Jin martial artist could swagger around unchallenged. But after these two escort trips, I learned that around the hills near Qingshan County, any random bandit gang has a Ming Jin martial artist holding the fort. Some stronghold chiefs might even be An Jin experts."
After a few drinks, Xu Feng could not help talking on and on.
"I ran into Ma Ping when I got back to the hall just now. He said Qin Xuan has already broken through to Late-Stage Ming Jin. Good grief, it's only been a few months, and he's already at the late stage?"
His tone was full of undisguised envy as he spoke, with even a trace of sourness that was difficult to put into words.
Jiang Fa's hand paused slightly around his cup, then steadied again.
He drained his cup, set it down, and offered some consolation. "Supreme-grade aptitude really isn't something ours can compare with."
"Compare? We couldn't catch up even if we whipped our horses." Xu Feng shook his head with a bitter smile,
"Forget it. Let's not talk about him. Oh, right, Zhao Chuan joined the Weiyuan Escort Agency too. He's a porter like me, but he's had it even worse. He ran into a torrential downpour on his first trip and was stranded in the mountains for three days. He came back a whole size thinner."
The two chatted a while longer, only settling the bill and leaving the tavern when the moon was high overhead.
As they parted, Xu Feng patted Jiang Fa on the shoulder and said indistinctly, "Once you're done with your bitter training, the two of us can have another proper spar."
Then he staggered off toward the escort agency.
Jiang Fa walked back to the martial hall alone. The night breeze carried moisture from the moat into his face, tinged with a faint fishy smell.