The human figure in the painting twisted like a gnarled pine clinging to a boulder, shoulders and back arched, knees and elbows bent backward. Every joint and bend was marked with dense, tiny annotations explaining how to regulate breathing, channel force, guide qi with intent, and vibrate specific muscles and bones.
Forcefully practicing this stance without a Hundred-Day Foundation would tear tendons at best, or severely injure the internal organs and leave behind hidden ailments at worst.
Chen Lingxi stared at it for a long time.
Outside the window, evening clouds hung low. Another snowfall seemed imminent, and the daylight was as dim as dust-covered glass.
No lamp was lit in the room, and the handwriting gradually blurred. Yet, he felt as if those nine postures had come alive, breaking down and reassembling one by one in the gloom to engrave themselves into his mind.
'Let's give it a try.'
The words floated up silently from the bottom of his heart, filling him with inexplicable excitement.
He pushed the door open and stepped out.
The independent courtyard was spacious. Though the snow had been swept away, solid ice remained wedged between the stone crevices, and the chill seeped up through the soles of his feet.
A few laborers in the same gray-brown tunics hurried shivering past the gate. Catching a glimpse of him standing alone in the yard, their eyes held their usual numbness and a trace of barely perceptible mockery—this newly arrived official bondservant must have frozen his brain.Who knew what gave him the right to a courtyard all to himself!
Chen Lingxi ignored them and closed the gate.
He took off his outer jacket, wearing only a thin, old shirt, and slowly closed his eyes.
Following the breathing technique, he drew a breath. The qi entered his nasal cavity, paused in his throat, sank through his diaphragm, and settled into his dantian.
A familiar warmth circulated in its wake, driving away the chill on his skin.
Then, guided by his memory of the opening move of the Mountain-Pulling Stance, he moved.
Planting his right foot firmly and resting his left lightly, he angled his body and slowly lifted his right arm upward as if embracing a massive object.
His movements were incredibly slow—so slow he could hear the faint pop of his joints extending. It felt as if his muscle fibers were being stretched taut inch by inch.
Unlike the bizarre postures of the breathing technique, the Mountain-Pulling Stance did not seek a prolonged pause in breath, but the unification of force and intent!
Simulating hands pulling a mountain and feet planted on a boulder!
He completed the first variation with surprising smoothness.
There was none of the sluggish pain he had imagined. Instead, that breath of warm qi seemed to sense something, spontaneously surging along the path of his right arm. Wherever it passed, his muscles and bones grew faintly hot, as if steeped in warm water.
Chen Lingxi steadied his mind and kept moving.
Second variation: his body twisted in reverse, his left arm pressing down as if suppressing a raging flood.
Third variation: his spine arched joint by joint, as if bearing the weight of the blue sky.
Fourth variation: his knees crossed and sank, steady as the coiled roots of an old pine...
He pushed through all nine variations of the stance in a single, unbroken sequence!
By the time he withdrew his stance and stood firm, a thin layer of sweat coated Chen Lingxi's body.
Meeting the cold air, the sweat turned to steaming white mist that coiled around his hairline and shoulders.
His breathing was slightly hurried, but his eyes shone brightly.
'Not only am I unhurt, but my entire body feels incredibly comfortable.'
Every joint felt perfectly at ease, without any stiffness in his movements; he felt highly agile.
Furthermore, a newborn, vigorous heat welled up from the depths of his limbs and bones. At first, it was as weak as a trickle, but as he used the breathing technique to urge it on, the heat suddenly grew fierce!
It felt as if a dormant furnace were hidden inside him, and the movements of the Mountain-Pulling Stance and the strange breathing method had just pried open a crack in its door!
Scalding, fiery breath erupted, surging and overflowing along his blood vessels and meridians.
This breath was completely different from the gentle, clear qi cultivated by the breathing technique!
As this breath flowed past, a faint but distinct numbness, itch, and stinging pain echoed deep within Chen Lingxi's flesh and bones.
He let out a low groan and clenched his fists.
'This is...'
He suddenly recalled the description of the Iron Body in the "Seven Forms of Halting War": "When blood qi is first formed, it rushes like mercury, its force piercing skin and membrane. Flesh and bone gradually harden. With every movement, a strong wind naturally follows."
'A strong wind?'
He tried swinging his arm. A sharp swish tore through the air, significantly fiercer than before!
'It seems a strong wind really does follow. Have I just stepped into the Iron Body?'
'Sensing it carefully, that blood qi is still flowing within my limbs and bones.'
Chen Lingxi closed his eyes to feel it, then suddenly snapped them open!
He realized that within his body, the blood qi produced from just stepping into the Iron Body, and the "qi" cultivated by the breathing technique...
...actually coexisted!
'The reason I silently completed the Hundred-Day Martial Foundation Building is because the breathing technique generated "qi"—let's call it "Origin Qi" for now!'
'Origin Qi seems to have transformed my physical body, even birthing, converting, and strengthening this so-called "blood qi"!'
Inside his body, the two forces coexisted, running in parallel without conflict.
The Origin Qi was even nourishing the newly born blood qi.
'Could it be that the Origin Qi cultivated by the breathing technique and the blood qi sought by Martial Foundation Building share the same root?'
'Or is the Origin Qi something even more profound and unfathomable?'
Chen Lingxi stood blankly in the twilight's cold wind, letting the newborn, blazing blood rush and roar within him.
At some point, snowflakes had begun to drift down again. The moment they landed on his hot skin, they instantly melted into white steam and vanished.
'No matter what, this is a good thing.'
'It couldn't be better.'
A faint light gleamed in his eyes as the Fragment of the Seven Forms of Halting War flipped through his mind!
'Seven Forms of Halting War: Mountain-Pulling, River Entering, City-Crumbling, Sea-Calming, Thought-Severing, Qi-Harmonizing, Halting War!'
'Mountain-Pulling ignites the furnace, River Entering calms the ocean waves; after City-Crumbling rends the earth, hide the blade and enter Supreme Harmony! This fragment only records the first four forms. If I can master all four, I can also step into Silver Bone Consummation!'
Chen Lingxi had encountered no obstacles while practicing the Mountain-Pulling Stance, so he thought about practicing the River Entering Form!
He opened by dropping into a horse stance and slowly pushing his right palm out to the side. With his palm facing outward, it was like a hand-blade cutting through water.
He tried to adjust his breathing, guiding his qi with intent, wanting to draw the newly born blood qi into the heel of his palm and his forearm...
However, the newly born blood qi was too weak. As it flowed through his body, it was absorbed by his muscles, tendons, and bones. Before it could even reach his palm and forearm, it had completely dissipated.
So Chen Lingxi withdrew his stance, no longer forcing it.
'The Mountain-Pulling Stance condenses blood qi and tempers the physique, granting an iron nature to the skin, flesh, tendons, bones, and internal organs! The River Entering Form, on the other hand, causes the entire body's blood qi to churn and even boil!
With insufficient blood qi, the prerequisites are not met, so naturally, the River Entering Form cannot be completed.
I still need to persist in practicing the Mountain-Pulling Stance to accumulate blood qi.'
He thought no more of it and instead practiced the Mountain-Pulling Stance again. He executed the nine variations one by one, and that wisp of Origin Qi in his body seemed to help temper his physique and generate blood qi...
A full hour passed. Chen Lingxi was finally exhausted, a piercing pain radiating from the muscle fibers all over his body.
Enduring the pain, he returned to the room, bending his body like a bow to practice his breathing technique.
He inhaled several streams of strange, clear qi, which eventually settled into his dantian and merged with that wisp of Origin Qi!
And that wisp of Origin Qi flowed through his body.
Chen Lingxi instantly felt the pain ease, his body no longer quite as weary.
'This wisp of Origin Qi... is simply miraculous.'
'The Fragment of the Seven Forms of Halting War states that if one can endure practicing the Mountain-Pulling Stance for half a ke after Hundred-Day Foundation Building, they possess extraordinary martial aptitude. Yet, with the help of this wisp of Origin Qi, I lasted a full half a shichen.
Now I can also rely on this wisp of Origin Qi to accelerate my recovery, without even needing medicinal baths or tonics...'
Chen Lingxi's heart completely settled...
'If I cultivate with all my might, I will have the foundation to escape this cage!'
Ten days passed quietly.
In just ten short days, Chen Lingxi had changed significantly.
Although his originally thin body couldn't be called muscular, it had become much denser. His face was still gaunt, but the dullness had faded to reveal a faint, warm luster, like a piece of ordinary iron just touched by its first wisp of furnace fire.
After ten days of practicing the breathing technique, Chen Lingxi's breathing had grown more drawn out, and the wisp of Origin Qi in his dantian was already as thick as a pinky finger.
Ten days of practicing the Mountain-Pulling Stance had made the blood qi in his body increasingly vigorous, bringing about numerous changes to his skin, fascia, bones, and muscles.
On this day, Chen Lingxi washed up, left the courtyard, and went to the back garden.
The north wind swept through the corridors and verandas, blowing aside the garden's snowy veil. The ice patterns on the pond's surface looked like torn silk, and the Taihu stone rockeries were draped in white snow.
Freezing wind battered the trees, and harsh frost formed on the courtyard orchids. The scenery in the garden was exceptionally beautiful.
Wearing a new set of winter clothes awarded by the West Courtyard for his previous flower arrangement tribute, Chen Lingxi walked through the back garden.
After ten days of bitter cultivation, his five senses had also greatly improved.
Focusing his mind and observing closely, he could clearly distinguish the trajectory of snowflakes swirling in the air, the patterns of ice crystals condensing on branches, and even the trembling of the tender yellow stamens inside the wintersweet flowers in the distance.
He slowly patrolled the garden, his gaze like a mirror, sweeping past snow-covered holly hedges, frost-beaten curling plantain leaves, and stubborn tiger-ear grass growing in the stone crevices... Finally, he stopped beneath a leeward stone wall.
Four types of plants grew there.
The first was an old vine, coiled like iron as it climbed the wall.
The second was a withered lotus; though its leaves were ruined and its stem broken, it swayed lightly like a bell when the wind blew past.
The third was moss, its greenery not yet extinguished. The snow granules that landed on it did not melt, piling up into extremely fine, jade-like sand.
The fourth was an icicle, hanging over three chi long from the eaves, entirely crystal clear.
'The old vine as the bone, the withered lotus as the soul, the moss as the breath, and the icicle as the crystal. With all four symbols complete, it should be enough to finish my task for Lin Longyue.'
Chen Lingxi thought to himself, just as he was preparing to pluck the old vine.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow approached!
The footsteps were swift and heavy.
'Someone's here!'
Hearing the sound, Chen Lingxi's back tensed slightly. Before he even had time to turn around, a strong gust of wind assailed the back of his head!
Someone was throwing a punch at him!
The punch came without any warning!
Before the fist even arrived, a wave of bloody, hot air washed over his neck!
The blood qi inside Chen Lingxi's body abruptly circulated, and his muscles instantly tightened.
Without time to think, he simply sensed the direction of the fist's wind, and his figure folded lightly like a reed in the wind!
Rip!
The fist's wind grazed his right shoulder, instantly tearing open his new winter clothes. The cotton wadding scattered, looking just like the flying snow in the sky.
Chen Lingxi spun around, stabilized his footing, and looked up.
Wang Kong, who had delivered medicine to him and Liu Changle a few days ago, stood five paces away. He wore a straight gown of dark blue silk beneath a black fox fur coat. The Hetian jade on his black velvet cap reflected the snow's glare, looking even more dazzlingly lustrous.
Cold stars danced in his narrow eyes, but a smile hung on the corners of his mouth. "Well, you certainly live up to being one of the only two surviving medicine slaves."