Chapter 034: Enhancement (Asking for Votes and Support)

After some thought, he finally made up his mind. It was best to advance the Iron Shirt technique first and strengthen his ability to survive; as formidable as the Heart-Shattering Palm was, it would be worthless if he couldn’t ensure his own safety. Besides, judging by the patterns of the Five Tiger Gate-Crushing Saber and the Iron Shirt, the first stage advancement of the Heart-Shattering Palm probably only required a single point of potential. At that time, he would have one point left, unable to spend it effectively, neither here nor there. It would be better to invest it directly into the Iron Shirt’s second stage, making the most of every ounce of potential and turning it all into strength.

With this in mind, he hesitated no longer and immediately raised the Iron Shirt to its second stage.

He at once felt his skin grow even tougher, as if the outer layer had thickened again, akin to being wrapped in a film of iron all over his body.

In his mind, information once again surged in, transforming into experience and filling his head.

It took a while before his mind gradually calmed. When he looked again at the Blue Star, the Iron Shirt had become the second stage.

He stood up, entered the house, and found the single saber he used before.

“Now that the Iron Shirt has reached the second stage, let’s see just how much my body’s defense has improved.”

Extending his left palm, he first tested it with thirty percent of his strength. The single saber slid across his palm as if it were cutting through thick leather, leaving only a white mark on the skin—not even breaking the surface.

He gradually increased his strength: forty percent, fifty… all the way to seventy percent before the saber finally left a wound on his palm.

Even then, the cut was shallow, barely breaking the skin, with not a drop of blood flowing out.

“With my current mastery of Iron Shirt, it would be extremely difficult for an expert like Yu Hongchuan with Bone-Grinding Hands to harm me.”

He compared and contrasted his strength in his mind and thought so to himself.

Receiving such a result—it would be impossible not to feel a ripple of emotion.

He recalled how much effort, and how much risk to his life, he had endured to slay Yu Hongchuan back then—almost suffering serious injuries himself.

Now, someone like Yu Hongchuan was nothing more than a minor nuisance.

His strength had increased so much in such a short time that even in the whole of Pingyang, he was now among the very top experts.

Just as a trace of pride crept into his heart, he suddenly remembered the sinister case files, and his expression darkened at once.

That lurking, ever-present danger—hidden in the shadows, lurking beyond the mortal realm—was a constant reminder: even as a first-class expert, should he encounter those uncanny, sinister forces, death would still be close at hand.

His mind tangled with these chaotic thoughts, and before he knew it, time had slipped by. He didn’t know how long had passed when a knock at the door startled him from his reverie.

He opened the courtyard gate to find the waiter from the Pingyang Restaurant, carrying two large food boxes, sweat pouring down his brow.

“Master Yao, your meal has arrived.”

Ever since his injury, Old Wang had given special instructions to the innkeeper: if Master Yao didn’t come to the restaurant, the waiter was to deliver his meals directly.

The waiter entered, set the dishes in the hall, arranged them neatly, and then left with the empty boxes. Yao Qian rewarded him with a handful of large copper coins, which the waiter accepted without protest, closing the gate behind him as he left.

Back in the hall, the table was covered with dishes, releasing mouthwatering aromas.

These were all medicinal dishes and meats specially prepared by the restaurant’s head chef. The medicinal food replenished his vital energy, and the meats nourished his body.

Since his cultivation had fallen into a steady rhythm, ordinary meals had become bland and tasteless, not worth discarding yet not worth eating either. Every meal left him uncomfortably stuffed, but his muscles and cells still cried out in hunger, a tormenting sensation.

So, once he had money in his hands, he refused to mistreat himself any longer, choosing only prime wild game and medicinal dishes to replenish what his martial arts consumed.

Yet the thought of the expense made his heart ache. On these medicinal dishes and wild meats alone, he was spending nearly three hundred taels of silver a month.

Originally, his fortune would have sustained him for about half a year. Now, he wasn’t even sure how he’d cover next month’s meals.

“Ah, it’s easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to return to frugality once you’re used to luxury!”

The thought of returning to his previous lifestyle filled him with aversion, not just for the sake of his palate but also for the time spent on martial cultivation.

After all, martial arts training was tremendously taxing on mind and body. Without timely replenishment, the deficit would only grow, creating a vicious cycle that could destroy him even without sinister forces intervening.

“I still have about six hundred taels left—barely enough for two months. In a month, I’ll be penniless again.”

He made a rough calculation and regretted acting the part of a wealthy gentleman yesterday by buying the Lu family’s book collection.

Truly, those who flaunt their wealth before others must suffer in secret afterward.

“It looks like I’ll have to go out and earn more, or else cultivation will have to pause.”

He had no desire to stop his training, so there was only one way forward: the path to making money.

As he pondered this, he ate, consuming all the medicinal food and meats on the table. He soon felt warmth suffuse his entire body, as if every limb and bone was absorbing the nutrients.

After a brief rest at noon, he left home and made his way to the back halls of the county office.

This was an important, restricted area—typically a place for the constables to rest and also to spar and train. The facilities were excellent.

He came here precisely for the cultivation rooms, intending to train in the Demon Bull Strength.

The Demon Bull Strength, a martial art practiced by demons and monsters, could enhance the body, fortifying flesh, sinews, and skin alike. When mastered, it granted the strength of nine bulls, and drawing a ten-stone bull-sinew bow with rapid-fire arrows would be a trivial feat.

It was truly a demonic, monstrous power.

However, fully mastering this art was undoubtedly difficult. Chen Shanqi had possessed the manual for years and had only barely scratched the surface, though even that produced impressive results.

Yao Qian thought of the demons’ formidable bodies—armored or as solid as stone, invulnerable to ordinary force. If he could reach that level, even sinister spirits might find it difficult to kill him.

He cleared his mind, took a stance with legs neither too wide nor too narrow, and adopted the opening posture, displaying utmost seriousness.

Demon Bull Strength was not particularly complicated, with just five moves: Bull Demon Thrusting Horns, Bull Demon Stomping Hooves, Bull Demon Gazing at the Moon, Bull Demon Guarding the Body, and Bull Demon Circulating Hide. Yet each move had nearly a hundred variations, progressing from shallow to deep, refining flesh, sinews, and skin.

With methods of cultivation already in his mind—and having reached the introductory stage through potential—he closed his eyes. The various techniques and maneuvers vividly floated in his memory.

Following these internalized experiences, he slowly began to practice the Demon Bull Strength routines.

Half an hour later—

His breath came in ragged gasps. Standing to one side, Yao Qian was pale, as if his body had been drained of all energy.