Chapter 31: Revision

As dusk approached, the setting sun bled across the sky, casting a crimson glow like spilled blood. In the open courtyard, a solitary figure was practicing his swordsmanship. His movements were powerful and unrestrained, the blade flashing in a seamless flow, bold and fierce.

With each sweeping stroke, the air seemed to split with a sharp crack, and faintly, it was as if the roar of a tiger could be heard. The young man’s body leapt and lunged, pouncing and springing like a wild tiger on the hunt.

After a long while, having completed the entire sequence, the figure came to a slow stop. It was none other than Yao Qian. He sheathed his blade and wiped the sweat from his brow—having repeated the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade several times, a trace of exhaustion crept into his limbs.

Yet the progress was meager. Ever since this blade technique had reached the minor mastery stage, every further improvement had become exceedingly difficult. Advancing to the fourth level, the great mastery, would likely take at least another half year.

But time was precisely what he lacked most.

For some reason, an inexplicable sense of impending crisis pressed against his back like a devouring shadow, urging him to strengthen himself as quickly as possible.

Without further hesitation, he murmured softly, “Blue Star.” At once, a panel appeared before his eyes. He directly spent four points of potential, elevating the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade to the fourth level: great mastery.

Instantly, a torrent of information surged into his mind, transforming into a wealth of experience.

These insights settled into his consciousness, granting him a fresh understanding of the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade. He realized that, upon reaching great mastery, the technique had truly become his own—tailored to his body and soul. Wielding his Blood Reaper blade, he could now let his techniques flow as naturally as antlers on an antelope—without a trace of artifice.

It reminded him of his previous world, where just one art—Taiji Fist—had many schools: Chen, Yang, Sun, and so forth. Now, in his hands, the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade could be called the Yao School’s version.

He performed the sequence once again, and this time, the technique felt utterly transformed. Where before there had been traces of clumsiness and rigidity, now every motion brimmed with vitality, as if it had sprung from nature itself.

After completing his blade practice, he rested briefly before switching to palm techniques—specifically, the Heart-Shattering Palm manual he had seized from Chen Shanqu.

This art was the opposite of the bold and open blade technique; it was insidious and treacherous, relying on cunning and venom.

Over the past days, he had pored over the manual countless times, committing every posture and movement to memory. But, until his injuries healed, he had refrained from practice.

Now that he was nearly recovered, it was time to begin.

“My Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade is at great mastery. In terms of realm, I’ve reached the peak of the Form-Refining stage—my body is strong, and I control my power at will. The next step is the Force-Connecting realm, where all strength converges at a single point, exploding forth to injure or kill in an instant.”

A thought flashed through his mind as he entered the main hall and carried the training table and iron sandbags—already prepared—into the courtyard.

The training table was several inches lower than his abdomen, evenly lined with iron sandbags. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his mind and dropped into a horse stance, his body vibrating with energy like a galloping steed. His palms alternately chopped, struck, and pressed down on the sandbags.

Thud, thud, thud—

Strikes landed in rapid succession, making the sandbags thump and shake. Soon, his palms were burning with pain, turning red before his eyes, but he gritted his teeth and persisted. Within half an hour, his hands had swollen slightly, and only then did he reluctantly stop.

He had already learned the method for this palm art from the manual and Chen Shanqu’s notes.

Though both the blade and palm arts were considered third-rate by classification, this palm technique was different—it relied not just on training, but crucially on a medicinal formula included in the manual, a rare detail. Such recipes were usually passed orally by masters, never set down in writing, lest the secret art become common knowledge.

Anticipating this, Yao Qian had already prepared, securing ample medicinal ointment from a physician.

After applying the balm, his hands soon felt cool, as if a gentle breeze were blowing across them, and the fiery pain and numbness subsided somewhat.

Unable to use his hands for the moment, he did not rest. Instead, he began practicing Iron Cloth Shirt.

This external art had already proven invaluable—were it not for its protection during his fight with Chen Shanqu, he would have been killed outright, never mind profiting from the encounter.

Because of this, he was determined to prioritize its advancement after his blade technique.

The sun slipped below the horizon, and darkness gradually enveloped the sky. At last, Yao Qian stepped down from his stance, breathing heavily. His entire body was soaked, his legs trembling uncontrollably, and he felt utterly spent.

He slumped into a chair and, before he knew it, fell asleep. When he opened his eyes again, the sky was filled with countless twinkling stars.

Enjoying the peace, he gazed upward for a while, then stood, washed himself at the well with cold water, changed into fresh clothes, and finally felt revived.

Returning to his room, he lay on the bed and summoned Blue Star once more. Seeing that he had seventeen points of potential left, he fell into deep thought.

For his future development, it was clear that the sooner he practiced Demonic Ox Force, the better.

This art could improve his physical constitution, strengthen flesh and skin, and boost his vitality—a rare and precious cultivation method, one he had never even heard of in Pingyang City.

Thinking it through, he understood: if such a technique were available, why would Chen Shanqu have practiced an art with such devastating side effects, one that risked turning him into a monster?

Having studied Demonic Ox Force thoroughly, he knew its power well.

Side effects aside, mastery of this art could preserve one’s peak condition for decades—potentially until seventy, not just forty, so long as one survived.

Resolving himself, he did not hesitate, and with a thought, pressed the “Refine” button beside Demonic Ox Force.

At once, his potential points began to drop, dwindling to single digits before his eyes.

Information flooded his mind, transforming into martial experience. At first, the impressions were of a half-human, half-beast creature training in martial arts, but soon the images shifted, becoming himself.

After several minutes, his mind finally calmed.

He opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them, and looked again to Blue Star.

Yao Qian—

Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade: Fourth Level (Great Mastery)
Demonic Ox Force: Initiate
Iron Cloth Shirt: First Level
Locking Technique: Initiate
Heart-Shattering Palm: Not Initiated
Potential: 2