On the other side.
Chen Anshun returned to the thatched hut behind the stables and bolted the door.
He took out the items from his bosom one by one.
Two and a half ingots of gold, placed on the left side of the low table.
The ingot of silver given by Zhao Youdao, placed on the right.
The leftover pieces of silver from a few days ago, poured out from the earthen jar under the bed, piled in the middle.
He squatted in front of the table and began to calculate.
Twenty-five taels of gold, according to the current gold-silver exchange rate in Qingquan County, one tael of gold is worth a little over ten taels of silver, totaling over two hundred and fifty taels.
Adding one hundred taels of silver, plus the pile of broken silver in the jar—he counted them one by one, seven taels and three qian.
Three hundred fifty-seven taels and three qian.
The daily expense of beef and Qi Replenishing Powder, he had long calculated thoroughly.
Twenty pounds of beef, two taels of silver.
One dose of Qi Replenishing Powder, ten taels of silver.
Adding miscellaneous expenses, it came to a little over twelve taels a day.
Three hundred fifty-seven taels and three qian, enough for twenty-nine days, with a little left over.
Almost a month.
Chen Anshun put the gold and silver back into the earthen jar and shoved it under the bed. As he straightened up, his hand accidentally pressed against the hidden pocket at his ribs.
The two thin booklets were still there, unmoved.
"White Tiger Evil-Breaking Diagram." "White Tiger Frenzy Saber."
He didn't rush to read them, instead changing into clean clothes, soaking the dirt and sweat-stained old clothes in a wooden basin. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out the "White Tiger Evil-Breaking Diagram," flipping through it page by page.
He read for the time it takes a stick of incense to burn.
He understood the meridian pathways.
His mentor at Hongyang Martial Hall had taught him the basics of meridian knowledge back in the day, though it was rudimentary, the framework was there.
The skeletal diagrams were extremely detailed, annotating which tendon connected to which bone, how force entered through which joint, how it penetrated the periosteum, and how it connected to the skin, all clearly illustrated.
The mnemonic was not obscure. It was annotated in plain language, clearly the person who compiled this manual had no intention of hiding anything.
The core was just one phrase—"Shake the membrane with force, wrap the bone with the membrane, unite inside and out, and the treasure armor forms itself."
Using a force of over a thousand pounds, shake the muscles and membranes throughout the body, let the force seep from the tendons into the bones, then back from the bones to the skin, forming a complete cycle.
Once the cycle is formed, one becomes second-rate.
Chen Anshun closed the booklet and closed his eyes for a moment.
Not difficult.
At least for him, not difficult.
His strength had already surpassed a thousand pounds and was still increasing.
The Hongyang Stance Art still gave him a twenty-pound increase every day. The greater the strength, the smoother the process of shaking the membranes, and the higher the certainty of breaking through.
The mentor's old saying, "The deeper the foundation, the steadier the building," was exactly this principle.
From this day on, Chen Anshun's life became extremely regular.
He rose at the hour of the rabbit, first practicing stance for an hour.
At the hour of the dragon, he went to the stables to work, feeding, brushing, and cleaning the horses, leaving nothing undone.
At noon, he ate beef. Three pounds, cut into large chunks, boiled until tender, sprinkled with coarse salt, swallowed with broth and meat.
At the hour of the sheep, he took Qi Replenishing Powder. The bitterness numbed his tongue, so he gulped down cold water to suppress it.
At the hour of the monkey, he continued practicing stance.
At the hour of the rooster, he finished his practice and rested early.
One day, two days, three days.
Xiaochen noticed the change in Chen Anshun.
The old man's complexion grew rosier by the day.
His once gaunt cheeks gradually filled out, his cheekbones no longer so prominent. The veins on his arms still bulged, but the texture of his muscles had tightened.
"Master Chen, have you been eating something good lately?"
"Beef."
"Beef can do that?"
"It can."
Xiaochen scratched his head and didn't ask further.
On the fourth day. One thousand one hundred and twenty pounds.
On the fifth day. One thousand one hundred and forty pounds.
On the sixth day. One thousand one hundred and sixty pounds.
On the seventh day.
Chen Anshun stood in the empty space behind the stables.
The sun was leaning west, the guard retainers had finished their drills, and the training ground was empty.
At the edge of the field were two stone balls. Made of granite, their surfaces were roughened for better grip.
Each weighed six hundred pounds, used by the guard retainers for strength training. Lin Wei could lift one with one hand and two with both, making him top-notch in the Zhao Residence.
Chen Anshun walked over and placed both hands on one of the stone balls.
His fingers hooked into the grooves on the ball's surface, his stance sank, and his waist and back tightened. The force surged from his feet, up his spine, and into his arms.
The stone ball lifted off the ground.
The six hundred-pound granite was raised to chest height, steady and firm. His arms trembled slightly, but there was no wobble.
He set the stone ball down and moved to the second one. His left hand on the first, right hand on the second.
Two balls. One thousand two hundred pounds.
His waist and legs exerted force simultaneously, a muffled grunt squeezed from his throat.
Both stone balls lifted off the ground.
His arms extended at his sides, veins bulging from his wrists to his shoulders, the blood vessels in his neck as thick as earthworms.
One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.
His arms lifted above his head.
One thousand two hundred pounds.
After holding for three breaths, he set the stone balls down. The thud upon landing sent the pebbles on the ground bouncing.
Chen Anshun shook his arms, his chest heaved a few times, then calmed.
His mouth curled into a grin.
Not just a slight movement, but a full grin, revealing a row of teeth worn smooth by time.
One thousand two hundred pounds. The number his mentor spoke of back then, reached.
The foundation was deep enough.
He didn't linger on the empty ground. He turned and returned to the thatched hut, bolting the door.
He pulled out the "White Tiger Evil-Breaking Diagram" from the hidden pocket, turning to the third page. It depicted a complete diagram of the body's meridians, with twelve main veins marked in red cinnabar, connecting every bone in the body.
"Shake the membrane with force."
Chen Anshun sank into a horse stance.
He began to mobilize all his strength. Not channeling it into his fists, not pressing it into his feet, but expanding it in all directions simultaneously.
One thousand two hundred pounds of force surged from his dantian, spreading through his meridians to his limbs. At the junction of muscle and membrane, the force no longer moved outward but vibrated in place.
Buzz.
A faint hum emanated from within him. His muscles began to tremble at a frequency imperceptible to the naked eye, causing the thin membrane attached to the muscles to vibrate along.
Pain.
Not a pain of flesh, but an ache seeping from the bone seams. The force collided with the periosteum, washing over it repeatedly, each pass adding a fine crack to the bone surface.
Not truly cracking, but the periosteum loosening, opening, accepting the force pouring in from outside.
Sweat beaded on Chen Anshun's forehead, trickling down his cheeks, dripping onto the ground, creating small pits.
The first layer of membrane broke.
The force flooded into the radius of his right arm, seeping upward along the bone surface, penetrating the marrow. A burning sensation emanated from the marrow, causing his entire right arm to tremble.
Then the left arm. Both legs. Spine. Ribs.
The force seeped inch by inch, each bone it penetrated became heavier and harder.
The entire process lasted about half a stick of incense.
When the last bit of force seeped into the sutures of his skull, Chen Anshun's body jolted.
From deep within his bones, a warm current surged outward. Spreading along the periosteum, muscles, and skin, it expanded from the inside out.
Throughout his body, from head to toe, a layer of warm power flowed beneath every inch of skin.
Inside and outside connected. The cycle formed.
Chen Anshun opened his eyes.
The light in the thatched hut was dim, but he felt everything had become clear.
The dust particles hanging in the cobwebs in the corner, the floating fluff in the sliver of sunlight through the door crack, all vividly detailed.
He looked down at his hands.
The skin on the back of his hands was still the same old, yellow, rough layer, but the texture of the muscles beneath had changed.
Tighter, denser, heavier. As he flexed his fingers, an unprecedented sense of power emanated from his joints.
Not brute force, but a cohesive strength integrated into his bones.
Second-rate.
He stood upright. The back that had been hunched for decades didn't straighten completely, but he was at least two inches taller than before. His entire aura was vastly different from half an hour ago.
Chen Anshun stood in the center of the thatched hut and let out a low laugh.
Not a restrained twitch of the mouth, but a release of the breath he'd held for sixty years, finally exhaled with satisfaction.
"Ha..."
He tilted his head back and laughed again, louder than the first.
"Haha."
Sixty years.
Entered Hongyang Martial Hall at twenty, practiced until thirty without touching the edge of third-rate. At forty, roamed the jianghu, beaten to the ground. At sixty, resigned to fate, retreated to Zhao Residence to tend horses. At seventy, even standing in a horse stance made him pant.
At eighty, second-rate.
If his mentor were still alive, he wouldn't be tapping his head with a cane this time.
Before the laughter faded, a rush of footsteps sounded outside.
Xiaochen's voice came through the door, tinged with urgency.
"Master Chen! Master Chen, are you there? Head Lin sent me to call you, Third Madam wants to see you!"
Chen Anshun's laughter stopped.
Third Madam wanted to see him?
He looked down at himself—soaked through, sweat plastering his clothes to his body, the qi wave from his breakthrough had flipped the coarse porcelain bowl on the table, shattering it into three pieces.
"Give me a quarter of an hour."
Xiaochen's voice sounded again from outside.
"Head Lin said to go now. Third Madam is waiting in the North Wing, says it's urgent."
Chen Anshun grabbed a dry cloth from the bedside and wiped his face, changed into a shirt that wasn't soaked through. He tucked the "White Tiger Evil-Breaking Diagram" back into the hidden pocket and fastened the button.
He unbolted the door.
Xiaochen stood at the entrance, his eyes widening the moment he saw him.
"Master Chen, you... you seem taller?"
Chen Anshun didn't respond, stepping toward the North Wing.
The sound of his boots on the bluestone path was deep and resonant, completely different from the noise he made seven days ago.