Morning light pierced through the thin fog over Waterwell City, coating the Sun family's massive stone training grounds in a sharp, golden glow.
It was early autumn now. The morning breeze carried a slight chill.
Sun Han stepped into the training grounds. The air was thick with the familiar smell of Qi and Blood medicine.
A big clay pot sat over roaring firewood, the dark red liquid inside bubbling away—"glug glug"—giving off a rich herbal scent.
He silently joined the queue and took a porcelain bowl filled to the brim with Qi and Blood soup from a servant.
The warm bowl pressed against his palm, heating his hands. He tilted his head back, his throat bobbing as he downed the slightly bitter medicine in one go.
A searing warmth exploded in his stomach, like he'd swallowed a newborn sun. The heat rushed through his limbs, driving away the last traces of morning cold.
He exhaled a white puff of breath scented with herbs, feeling that hot current surging through his body.
"Tap, tap—"
Footsteps approached. Instructor Sun Zhen's iron tower of a figure appeared at the training grounds.
His hawk-sharp eyes slowly swept across the disciples lined up below. Wherever his gaze landed, the previously relaxed atmosphere instantly tensed.
But today, after scanning the crowd, his bronze, chiseled face showed the slightest furrow of his brow.
Several people were missing from the formation.
"Huh, where are Sun Xuan and Sun Zi? Why aren't they here today?" a short, chubby disciple couldn't help but turn his head and whisper to his companion.
"What do you think?"
A tall, skinny guy next to him curled his lip, his tone carrying both schadenfreude and that "today him, tomorrow me" kind of sadness.
"Count on your fingers—there's only about twenty days left until the assessment. They haven't even touched the threshold of Flesh Refinement. Sticking around would just be a waste of time."
"Better to leave on their own terms and save themselves the embarrassment of getting kicked out in front of everyone," another chimed in.
"Dragging it out is just humiliating. Leaving early is better. If I hadn't already reached the limit of Skin Refinement and still had that tiny bit of hope, I'd want to quit too."
Realizing these disciples had given up, Sun Zhen withdrew his gaze and said nothing about it.
Martial cultivation relied most heavily on talent. Only those with talent had the ability to climb this path. Without talent, without hope—giving up early to find another way was actually a good thing.
"Time's up! Crane Form Stance, begin!"
Without any preamble, he called out.
His voice was loud and powerful, ringing across the open grounds like metal striking stone.
"Hah!"
Dozens of disciples shouted in unison. As if pulled by invisible strings, they instantly sank their hips, planted their feet in figure-eight stances, spread their arms, and took the starting position of the Sun family's foundation—the "Crane Form Stance."
The previously scattered training grounds instantly fell to nothing but steady breathing and the subtle sounds of muscles tensing and relaxing.
Sun Han took a deep breath of the cool morning air and slowly exhaled. His mind settled, his awareness sinking deep into his body.
The stance position had become second nature—no need to adjust deliberately. It flowed naturally.
As the stance technique activated, a surge of Qi and Blood—far more active and powerful than yesterday morning—rushed out from deep within his limbs without any hesitation.
With his Root Bone talent amplified by 2x, this Qi and Blood surged like a spring tide, roaring and rushing, far beyond anything before.
No longer a trickle—now it was a rushing stream. Under the refined guidance of the Crane Form Stance, it crashed fiercely against the membrane throughout his entire body.
"Hiss..."
An intense tingling and burning sensation instantly spread across his skin. Sun Han couldn't help but suck in a breath through his teeth. His knees wobbled almost imperceptibly.
This was only the second time experiencing double amplification, and he still wasn't quite used to it.
Forcing his concentration, he steadied his stance and locked his mind onto that rushing Qi and Blood.
Pain!
The burning Qi and Blood felt like countless tiny, tough brushes scrubbing and tempering his skin membrane over and over, tirelessly.
Each wash brought needle-like pain, as if it wanted to completely grind away the old, insufficiently dense membrane.
Satisfaction!
Beneath this intense pain, an indescribable sense of pleasure emerged.
That "limit" membrane that had blocked him for two months was now trembling violently under this fierce wash.
He could clearly "hear" faint "creaking" sounds from deep within his skin membrane—the sound of his fascia becoming tighter and stronger.
With each pass of Qi and Blood, his membrane grew tighter, tougher, like refined iron being hammered and forged repeatedly, removing impurities and condensing its essence.
A sense of newfound strength was subtly growing from beneath his skin.
"Two hours already!"
Usually after drinking the Qi and Blood soup and practicing the stance, after just one hour he'd feel his Qi and Blood depleting, his tendons and bones aching, unable to continue.
But today, two hours had passed. Sweat had long since soaked through his thin training clothes, pooling into a small damp spot at his feet. His body felt heavy with fatigue, yet that Qi and Blood current inside him still surged powerfully.
Supporting him. Easing his exhaustion.
"Breathe in... breathe out..."
He adjusted his breathing, struggling to maintain the stance technique. The hope in his heart, already firm thanks to the system, now burned like wildfire.
Each tremor and strengthening of his membrane silently declared: breaking through to Flesh Refinement within a month was no pipe dream!
Finally, when his body truly signaled it could bear no more, he stopped and ended the stance.
Slowly releasing the position, a wave of intense fatigue hit him. But beneath that fatigue was an unprecedented sense of fullness and satisfaction.
"Smack—"
He raised his arm and flexed his muscles. The thin membrane clung tightly to the muscle contours, the subtle toughness showing through even more resilient than yesterday.
This kind of clearly perceptible progress was like the sweetest honey, nourishing his nearly dried-up confidence.
"Get your meals!"
It was already noon. The servants arranged by the family had brought food.
Sun Han went to queue up and received his portion.
Several large chunks of fish and several thick slices of fatty meat were clearly visible inside, along with some medicinal herbs that nourished the body—basically a medicinal meal. Talk about high-quality provisions.
The Sun family's treatment of these disciples was pretty much top-notch.
It made him once again grateful he wasn't starting as a servant or beggar, but as a family member.
"Next, self-practice martial techniques!"
After lunch, Sun Zhen's voice rang out again.
The crowd immediately dispersed, each heading to their familiar corners. On the weapon racks, blades, spears, swords, and halberds gleamed in the sunlight.
Sun Han walked toward the rack holding longswords. He reached out and picked up an unsharpened refined iron longsword that felt good in his hand.
The blade was ice cold. The rough rope wrapping the handle scraped against his palm.
While tempering their tendons, bones, skin, and flesh, Sun family disciples could also choose to practice one basic martial technique to use as their combat method in the future.
Sun Han had chosen the "Breeze Sword Technique," known for its agility and speed.