Seeing that there was nothing amiss in the space, Qiao Xin took Lin Qing’s hand to show him the room she had arranged. It was meant to be their sanctuary whenever they grew tired.
A two-meter-wide bed with soft, floral-printed linens was made up neatly. The sofa, coffee table, and wardrobe were arranged just as they had been in their old home, interspersed with small decorative touches that made the room feel both cozy and timeless.
The only thing that felt out of place was a massive desk and chair made of an unidentified material.
Resting on the desk were two jade slips, looking strikingly similar to the one Qiao Xin had discovered when she first entered the space. She walked over, curious—she was certain the desk had been empty just moments ago.
Lin Qing followed close behind. As they neared the desk, the two jade slips seemed to come to life. They drifted into mid-air, suddenly shattering into countless flecks of light that danced around them.
The next moment, those lights surged into their minds until not a single glimmer remained.
Both grabbed the desk for support; the sheer force of the influx made their brains throb with pain, and their legs nearly buckled beneath them.
“Xinxin, are you alright?” Lin Qing asked, his voice strained.
Qiao Xin gave a faint shake of her head. “I’m fine. Don’t fight it—just accept the information.”
It took some time for the agony to fade. The knowledge etched into their minds was a martial art: The Twenty-One Forms of Body Tempering. It was divided into two parts. The first detailed the precise movements and fundamentals of tempering the body, while the second part evolved from the first, incorporating various weapon techniques tailored to different fighting styles.
This was a method to continuously refine physical strength while mastering close-quarters combat. It was labeled as a “foundation” technique—according to the jade slips, it was the prerequisite for ordinary people to cultivate “Qi Induction.” Only by strengthening the body to a certain level and clearing the meridians could one hope to achieve twice the result with half the effort when practicing Qi Induction.
“This is amazing, A-Qing!” Qiao Xin exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. “With this, we’ll finally have the power to protect ourselves if we run into danger.”
“Yes,” Lin Qing agreed, his own blood beginning to boil. “We must practice diligently. This might not be much to the ‘immortals’ mentioned in the descriptions, but to us, it’s a treasure. My late foster father spent his life wandering the pugilistic world, and he used to tell me that the greatest masters could scale walls and vault over roofs. After mastering this, our bodies won’t just be like walls of brass and iron; we’ll be light as swallows. The combat techniques in the second part… I’ve never even seen them in my life. I believe that once we master this, even those legendary masters won’t be our match.”
A man’s heart is always that of a boy, and Lin Qing was truly young now. Faced with a path to strength, he couldn’t wait to start the journey.
“Then we’ll come to the space to practice,” Qiao Xin said. “The spiritual energy here is abundant, and the time dilation is perfect. There’s no better place.”
“Agreed.”
“I wonder why the techniques appeared so suddenly? Will there be more? That tremor we felt earlier must have been linked to this,” Qiao Xin mused, tilting her head.
“Don’t overthink it,” Lin Qing comforted her. “Who knows what the future holds? We just need to make the most of the present.”
“Mm, you’re right. Make the most of the present.”
They shared a smile and began to study the Twenty-One Forms. Though it was their first time practicing, the technique felt as natural as breathing. There were no bottlenecks; the movements flowed like water. They completed their first full set in perfect synchronization.
After finishing, their bodies felt incredibly supple, and their strength had surged. Lin Qing tested his new power by lifting the rotary cultivator from earlier. Even though it was a small model, it weighed nearly two hundred pounds, yet he hoisted it with one hand as if it were a feather. Qiao Xin found it slightly more difficult, but she could still lift it with ease.
“We’ve only practiced for such a short time, and our bodies have already changed this much!” Lin Qing said, beaming with joy as he suppressed his excitement. “If we keep this up, we won’t just survive the famine—even if we run into elite fighters, we’ll be more than capable of holding our own.”
“Aside from preparing for the upcoming migration, we must make every second count in our training,” Qiao Xin agreed. “Only when we are truly strong can we live the life we choose.”
Without delay, they dived back into practice. This time, both were incredibly focused, pushing each movement to perfection. It felt as if they had spent hours inside the space, and when they finally emerged, the sun was already dipping low—it had to be past the late afternoon. Back in the village, most households would be sitting down for dinner.
Lin Qing had gone into the mountains today to check his traps. He felt a wave of relief; had he gone to town instead, he would have missed Qiao Xin entirely.
Seeing the fading light, Lin Qing decided to abandon the trap line. He took Qiao Xin’s hand and they began the descent. The mountains were haunted by wolves at night. Even though he had confidence in their new skills, he wasn’t going to take unnecessary risks. Once they grew stronger, the forest would be their backyard, but for now, it was safer to head down.
“A-Qing, once we’re down, I’ll return to the Qiao house. You stay vigilant in your little yard,” Qiao Xin warned, her voice laced with concern. “The house is right at the foot of the mountain—it’ll be dangerous if the wolf pack comes down.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay going back alone?” Lin Qing asked, clearly uneasy. “Maybe I should go with you? That old woman is absolutely unreasonable. I’ve seen her fighting with others twice now.” He hated the idea of separating—they had finally found each other again.
“A-Qing, listen to me,” she insisted. “If you come along, that old woman will make such a scene that the whole village will know about it. Trust me, I can handle her. I won’t let myself get bullied. Just don’t wander too far tomorrow; pick the right moment to show up. Even if we don’t need their scraps, I’m not about to let her off easy.” She tried to sound grave and mature, but paired with her emaciated, filthy appearance, the sight was both comical and heart-wrenching.
Lin Qing finally yielded. “Then be careful. Don’t let her hit you. If things go south, run. Don’t worry about anything else—I’ve got your back.”
“Mm-hmm. I don’t care about their ‘reputation.’ Once we start the migration, who knows if we’ll ever see them again? There’s no need to suffer for their sake. As long as I get my hands on Sanya’s household registration papers, I won’t have to return to that house ever again. Those people aren’t even worth thinking about.”
Lin Qing stood on the slope, watching until Qiao Xin’s figure faded into the distance. Only then did he turn and head back to his own small courtyard.
Qiao Xin followed her memories back to the Qiao compound. The courtyard gate was shut tight, and the faint sound of voices drifted from within. She had been sent out to gather firewood by Madame Wang at midday. She’d been gone all day, and not a soul had bothered to look for her. It was obvious there was no dinner waiting for her, and she’d likely face a beating for coming home “late.”
She pushed the gate open. It creaked, drawing the attention of everyone in the yard. They all turned to stare at the entrance.
“You wretched girl! So you finally know how to come back? Where have you been running wild?” A sharp, shrill voice shattered the silence. “Where is the firewood you were supposed to gather? Are you trying to make us starve because there’s no fuel to cook with?”
It was Madame Wang, Sanya’s grandmother. The others merely glanced at the girl and went back to their meal, indifferent. Old Man Qiao didn’t even lift his eyelids.
Qiao Xin ignored the tirade. “Grandma, I accidentally fell down a slope today and hit my head. I’ve been lying at the bottom for most of the day. As soon as I woke up, I came straight back.”
As she spoke, she walked toward the eating area. On the table sat a plate of cold-dressed wild vegetables and some pickled greens. The basin that usually held the flatbreads was empty; everyone was holding a piece in their hands, eating away with bowls of thick porridge.
“You fell and didn’t know how to get up? You just laid there all day? Why didn’t you just die instead!” Madame Wang’s voice grew louder, her eyes glinting with malice. “You didn’t do your chores today—the laundry is undone, the chickens weren’t fed, and where is the wood I told you to bring?”
“Grandma, I passed out from the fall. My head is still spinning and I’m so hungry. Can I please have something to eat first?” Qiao Xin said, her tone calm and steady.
Madame Wang slammed her chopsticks onto the table, as if to ensure the neighbors could hear. Her voice spiked another few octaves. “You shameless little slut! You want to eat? You’ve been out running wild all day—who knows what you’ve been up to? You didn’t do a lick of work, and now you want food? See if I don’t beat you to death, you money-losing disaster!”