A new inner force skill brought more than an internal breakthrough for Lu Sheng—it brought transformation. The Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill and Black Fury Skill did not clash; instead, they intertwined seamlessly within him. As the strengthened flow of power surged through his veins, Lu Sheng felt his energy pour forth in an endless stream. His essence, Qi, and spirit grew denser, steadier—more formidable than ever before.
He stood, eyes glinting faintly, and raised his hand as if gripping an invisible saber. Stepping forward, he executed Tiger Kill.
“CHI!”147Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUTAmLKkXAQ
“HOWL!!!”
A tiger’s roar reverberated faintly through the air, followed by a wave of searing heat. It was the roar of power itself.
Yet this scorching aura came from merely a quarter of his full strength. Once, to create such force, he would have needed to expend at least half his inner Qi.
The efficiency of my inner Qi has increased at least twofold! Excitement surged through Lu Sheng’s chest as he recalled what Uncle Zhao had once told him about the hierarchy of martial masters in the pugilistic world.
In the Central Plains, those who reach Strength Proficiency are common. Above them stand two greater realms—Intent Proficiency and Spirit Focus. The true masters, the ones whose names echo through the land, dwell in the realm of Spirit Focus. They cultivate both inner and outer force; their spirit and intent shape reality itself. Every move they make embodies the essence and Dao of their martial arts. Their inner Qi flows endlessly, and their battle strength grows boundless. I wonder… which level have I reached?
Lu Sheng pondered silently.
In Nine Links City, I had already stepped into Strength Proficiency through the Black Tiger Saber. Even if I have not yet touched the realm of Spirit Focus, my inner Qi has far exceeded that of ordinary Strength Proficiency experts. If I were to face a Spirit Focus opponent now… who can say whether I’d win or lose?
A faint, confident smile tugged at his lips. Perhaps I can already be considered one of them—a Spirit Focus expert in all but name, standing shoulder to shoulder with the famed masters of the Central Plains.
He was certain now—the inner force of both Black Fury Skill and Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill had reached the absolute pinnacle of the third realm. For an average martial artist, achieving such mastery would demand forty, even fifty years of arduous cultivation. And that was assuming they possessed both exceptional talent and an unending supply of rare tonics and medicinal ingredients.
I’m only nineteen… and I’ve already built such a solid foundation. A faint sigh stirred in Lu Sheng’s heart. If not for the existence of supernatural beings, this world would already lie beneath my feet. What a pity… The thought of the Demonic Ghost resurfaced in his mind, casting a brief shadow across his expression.
Just then, the distant cry of a rooster pierced the morning stillness.
Lu Sheng turned his gaze toward the window. The horizon had begun to pale—the first light of dawn spilling gently across the rooftops. Without realizing it, an entire night had passed.
He rose, fetched water to wash his face and rinse his mouth, then dressed swiftly in his robes before stepping out into the cool morning air.
At the small restaurant near the winery, he ordered his usual breakfast: steaming meat buns, a bowl of coarse-grain porridge, and a side of fried vegetables. Simple fare, yet the sheer quantity he consumed left nearby diners exchanging stunned glances.
He devoured the buns in massive bites, each one thin-skinned and packed full of savory meat. The steam that scalded his tongue barely registered—ever since mastering Black Fury Skill, his resistance to heat had grown formidable. Even holding his palms over an open flame for several breaths would scarcely faze him.
Each bamboo steamer held six buns, and by the time he was done, five empty steamers were stacked before him—thirty buns in total. Finally, he lifted the plate of vegetables, tilted it to his lips, and poured the contents into his mouth, chewing lazily before swallowing.
To him, it was no different from an ordinary man taking a sip of water after a hearty meal.
The small-grain porridge sat beside him in a wooden bucket—tall as a forearm, wide as a wash basin. The portion inside was enough to feed five or six people. Lu Sheng lifted it effortlessly and drank three hearty gulps.
He set the bucket down. Not a single drop remained.
“WOW!”
The exclamation came from a nearby table, followed by gasps and murmurs. For these townsfolk, whose days rarely strayed from routine, such a spectacle was enough to spark lively gossip for days.
Lu Sheng’s face remained calm and composed. He drew a silk handkerchief from his sleeve, wiped the corners of his mouth with quiet precision, then stood up smoothly. His refined demeanor after such a ravenous display left the surrounding diners and waiters stunned into silence.
Inner Qi was born of essence refined into energy—and essence came from nourishment. Food was the foundation of power.
Lu Sheng possessed two formidable inner force skills: Black Fury Skill and Black Tiger Jade Crane Skill. The first was of mysterious origin—fragmentary yet potent, capable even of harming the supernatural. The second, his own extrapolated creation, focused on restoration and the cultivation of life force.
Together, they strengthened his body beyond mortal limits—and fueled an appetite that could shame an army.
After his meal, Lu Sheng stepped out to the street and hailed a horse carriage, heading straight toward Eastern Mountain Institute. By the time he arrived, the morning bells were ringing through the crisp air.
He dismounted swiftly and strode through the gates, making his way toward the study hall with measured urgency.
Eastern Mountain Institute occupied a vast tract of land at the foot of Eastern Mountain, just outside Mountain-Edge City. Though close to the city, it stood as its own domain—governed by private soldiers and bound by its own laws. The Dean, formally addressed as the Cavern Chief, was a stern official directly appointed by the Court itself.
It was a world apart from the jurisdiction of Mountain-Edge City.
Legend had it that the Eastern Mountain Institution was founded by a revered Confucian official who, after completing his tenure in office, returned to his hometown and began teaching. Over the years, the humble school flourished, eventually becoming the great institution it was today.
Lu Sheng made his way toward his study hall with brisk familiarity. The instructor for his class was Elder Lu Rao, a respected scholar who had passed the provincial imperial examinations and earned the title of Scholar.
At the front of the room, Elder Lu stood by the rostrum, his expression as calm and severe as ever, flipping open the class register to begin roll call.
Lu Sheng and a few other latecomers slipped quietly through the doorway, offering polite bows before hurrying to their seats.
The study hall itself was rectangular, sunlight spilling in through narrow windows. Around a dozen students sat cross-legged on their mats, each before a low bookcase that doubled as a desk. Elder Lu was responsible for all of them.
Lu Sheng took his seat beside Song Zhenguo, adjusted his robes neatly, and retrieved his books from the bookcase—volumes on the humanities and classical texts, prepared in advance as was the custom.
“Du Zhenxu.”
“Present.”
“Wang Dao.”
“Present.”
“Zhao Banyue.”
“Present.”
“Yan Song.”
“Present.”
Elder Lu’s tone remained even as he called each name, his gaze unmoving. Soon, his eyes landed on the next line.
“Lu Sheng.”
“Present.”
“Song Zhenguo.”
“Present.”
“Wang Ziquan. Wang Ziquan…?”
A faint twitch crossed Elder Lu’s brow. His sharp gaze swept across the room, pausing briefly at each student. He knew all their faces by heart—more than ten in total—and a single glance was enough to confirm one was missing.
“Wang Ziquan’s not here?” His tone was cool, but the edge of disapproval was unmistakable.
Song Zhenguo cast a sidelong glance toward the empty mat beside them.
“Maybe something urgent happened at home, and he had to return?” he murmured under his breath.
Lu Sheng followed his gaze. The absence tugged at his thoughts, and for a brief moment, he recalled the strange pleasure boat he had seen the night before.
“Maybe he’s overslept?” he said casually.
At that, Song Zhenguo froze mid-breath. A strange realization flickered across his face, and the corners of his lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
The two exchanged no further words. Seeing that the seat remained empty, Elder Lu let out a quiet harrumph, lifted his charcoal pen, and struck a bold line across Wang Ziquan’s name.
“We’ll now begin today’s lesson. Previously, we discussed…” Elder Lu’s voice was steady as he launched straight into the lecture, his tone scholarly and precise.
Lu Sheng listened attentively at first, but his eyes drifted once more toward Wang Ziquan’s vacant seat. A faint unease lingered in his chest, a sense that the boy’s absence might somehow be connected to that strange pleasure boat from the previous night.
Two hours passed in quiet concentration. When the lesson concluded, Elder Lu gathered his scrolls and left the hall without another word.
Lu Sheng and Song Zhenguo rose to their feet.
“Looks like Young Master Sheng is confident about the Annual Examinations!” Song Zhenguo teased with a grin. “You didn’t look lost or sluggish once during the lecture. You’ve clearly mastered those profound principles already! The day you top the examinations must be close at hand!”
“Stop it, Brother Zhenguo,” Lu Sheng replied with a chuckle. He had always held a quiet respect for Song Zhenguo—straightforward, generous, and unpretentious despite his affluent background. More than that, he was loyal; when friends sought his help, he never hesitated if it was within his means.
“Chen Yunxi is here. Yesterday, you stood up the pretty lady, and now it seems she’s dead set on you. Run along!” Song Zhenguo leaned close, winking playfully toward the entrance.
Lu Sheng turned, and his gaze met Chen Yunxi’s. She stood framed by the doorway, a vision of poise and elegance. She wore a long, gauzy white dress that draped to her ankles, the fabric faintly translucent beneath the morning light. Loose, downy sleeves covered her hands, concealing the small item she carried.
Her hair was swept up into a neat bun secured by a white jade hairpin, save for a silken lock that fell gracefully against her chest. Her figure was tall and slender, her skin fair and luminous as polished jade—an effortless beauty that drew every gaze the moment she appeared.
She looked ethereal—elegant and pure, like a fairy descended to earth. For a fleeting moment, Lu Sheng felt his heart stir.
“Who’s that girl? Such long legs! Absolutely hideous!” a scholar whispered nearby, his voice shattering the quiet admiration that had filled the air.
“That’s right. Her legs are so long it hurts to look at them. If not for that, I’d have pursued her long ago.”
“Ah… it’s Chen Yunxi. A shame, really. With her family’s wealth in Mountain-Edge City, she’d have a line of suitors if her legs weren’t so unsightly.”
“Super hideous legs!”
“Yeah, exactly!”
“Enough, all of you,” a female student interjected sharply. “It’s not her fault she looks that way. Our bodies are gifts from our parents—no one chooses their form. We’re fellow students; don’t you think it’s cruel to mock one of our own?”
“Ai…” The group mumbled and dispersed amid low laughter and uneasy glances.
Lu Sheng, however, could only stare. To his eyes, Chen Yunxi’s long legs were nothing short of beautiful—graceful, elegant, and radiant. The others’ disdain made no sense to him.
“Go on, quickly. Chen Yunxi clearly dressed up for you,” Song Zhenguo said with a knowing grin, giving Lu Sheng a gentle push forward.
Lu Sheng hurried over, took Chen Yunxi’s hand with a composed smile, and led her out of the study hall toward the lecture theater.
The lecture theater stood apart from the main buildings, a quiet place usually reserved for special talks given by visiting scholars. On ordinary days, it remained empty—a tranquil refuge where students often slipped away to whisper soft words of affection.
In this world, men and women shared the right to education and could even hold official posts. Though not equals in every regard, their status mirrored that of the Tang Dynasty that lingered in Lu Sheng’s imagination.
Together, they jogged down the path toward a small forest beside the lecture theater. The grove nestled against the foot of the mountain wall, where the air was cool and the light dimmed beneath the canopy of trees.
Only then did Lu Sheng come to a stop. He turned to face Chen Yunxi, her white robes fluttering lightly in the mountain breeze.
“What made you come here? About what happened yesterday—are you alright?” he asked softly.
Chen Yunxi’s lips curved into a gentle smile. From within her wide sleeve, she extended a slender hand, revealing a single stalk of red peony—its petals full and glistening with morning dew.
“This is for you.”
Lu Sheng blinked, momentarily taken aback as he accepted the flower. Though women of this era were known to be more forward and open-minded than in the old days, few would ever show such boldness. Chen Yunxi’s gesture carried both courage and tenderness.
“Previously,” she began, her tone quiet but steady, “my family wanted to arrange a marriage with that man from yesterday. My brother tried everything—sending gifts, flattering words—but it all came to nothing. They wouldn’t even take me as a concubine.”
A faint, sorrowful smile touched her lips.
“I know I’m not beautiful. My legs are too long… it’s only natural that others find me unpleasant to look at. Every time I hear people mocking me, it hurts so much I can’t help but bow my head and pretend not to hear.”
Lu Sheng’s expression stiffened slightly. To his eyes, her legs were nothing less than exquisite, yet her words struck him with an odd sense of contradiction he couldn’t quite comprehend.
“But there’s nothing I can do,” Chen Yunxi continued, lifting her gaze. Her eyes shimmered with suppressed pain. “I was simply born this way. I know you probably don’t like me, but… I really do like you, Lu Sheng.”
Her hands trembled faintly as she reached into her waist pouch and drew out a neat stack of copper-sealed documents. With careful fingers, she unfolded them before him.
“My father said that since Elder Brother Lu’s family plans to move to a larger city, why not settle here instead? If you’re willing, these are merchant deeds for fifteen restaurants in Mountain-Edge City. They’ll be yours. It should be enough for the Lu Family to find its footing again.”
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