“Profound-rank low-grade.
Take it or leave it—it’s the only body-tempering technique I’ve got.”
Burning Elder shrugged casually, as if Profound-rank techniques were nothing more than cabbages to him.
“Yes, yes!”
Feng Hao clutched the scroll tightly, his mouth twitching.
On the Tianwu Continent, martial manuals fell into three categories.
First: body-tempering techniques, used by Martial Apprentices to forge their physique.
Second: martial essence methods—abbreviated as essence methods.
Used by true Martial Artists to control the martial essence vortex formed within.
The rank of the method determined how much essence one could hold.
Once chosen, it could not be changed.
The Yan Art Burning Elder had mentioned belonged to this category.
Third: martial techniques.
The power of a technique was a key factor in a person’s combat strength.
High-rank techniques could multiply a fighter’s power many times over.
All three categories were divided into five ranks: Heaven, Earth, Profound, Yellow, and Unranked.
Each rank had three sub-levels: high, middle, and low.
A family like the Fengs of Yulan City used an Unranked basic fist technique for body tempering.
Their essence method was a Yellow-rank low-grade technique called Cloud Tossing Art.
Their most powerful martial technique was a single Yellow-rank high-grade scroll—Shattering Rock Fist.
And Burning Elder had casually pulled out a Profound-rank manual.
How could Feng Hao not be stunned?
He jumped down from the tree top, landing with a thud.
He studied the diagrams and instructions on the scroll intently, committing them to memory.
Following the breathing technique described on the scroll, Feng Hao slowly lowered his body into a strange, crawling posture.
The movement looked simple, but sweat poured from him instantly.
His body trembled as if he was enduring immense pain.
“Not bad at all.”
From the treetop, Burning Elder watched the boy adopt the pose immediately.
He was somewhat surprised.
“Who would have thought that all those hours on the training post would give him such precise control over his strength.”
Over the years, the old man had watched Feng Hao’s every move.
He had always dismissed the boy’s training methods as crude.
But now, he had to reassess the youth.
“Those years have tempered his will, his perseverance, his resolve.
That saves a lot of trouble.”
On the path of martial cultivation, talent aside, the first requirement was an unwavering will. You are reading on novelping.com, the official source.
Then came the perseverance and the belief that one could become a strong one.
These were the fundamentals.
Without them, one could never reach the peak.
Suffering through waves of pain, Feng Hao struggled to match his breathing and movements to the scroll’s instructions.
His muscles twitched.
Even his bones groaned as they ground together from the unusual posture.
From a distance, he looked like a crouching beast—powerful, coiled, ready to strike at any moment.
This was the first pose of the Tiger Movement Chapter.
In less than half an incense stick’s time, Feng Hao collapsed, gasping for air.
But his eyes were full of joy.
Brief as the session had been, he could already feel the benefits of this single posture.
It tempered the body and dramatically improved control over one’s strength.
This was the power of a Profound-rank technique.
“Your body is too weak.
Your control isn’t refined enough.”
Burning Elder’s voice drifted down from the treetop.
“That’s enough for today.
Continue tomorrow.”
With that, his translucent form dissolved into motes of light and returned to the ring.
Feng Hao turned onto his back.
His clear, bright eyes stared at the sky, a hint of satisfaction flickering in them.
Slowly, he drifted off to sleep beneath the tree.
At last—he was stepping onto the path of the strong.
…
That day, everyone who had a say in the Feng family gathered in the meeting hall.
“From today onward, Feng Chen, you are no longer the head of the Feng family.”
As First Elder Feng Jie announced the decision, Feng Chen rose slowly from the family head’s seat.
Having been publicly humiliated, he knew he could no longer lead the family.
If he remained, the Feng name would never hold its head up in Yulan City.
Everyone watched Feng Chen’s calm face with complicated expressions.
It wasn’t that he had been a bad leader.
Everyone present knew how much Feng Chen had given for the family over the years.
Even when Feng Hao’s performance was mediocre, the four elders had only demanded that his herbal treatments stop and that the heir be replaced—they had never called for Feng Chen’s removal.
Now, the second elder’s direct son, Feng Lie, ascended to the position of family head.
Feng Chen said nothing.
What weighed on his heart was his son.
At only third-rank Martial Apprentice, with no more herbal support, what chance did Feng Hao have of fulfilling his three-year vow?
As Yun Ying had said, he might not even qualify for the academy door.
Two years to form martial essence and become a true Martial Artist.
Amid the silence, Feng Hao walked into the hall.
“Feng Hao!
Where have you been?”
Feng Jie barked at him.
In a sense, everything was Feng Hao’s fault.
And now he walked in looking like nothing had happened.
Most of the hall was furious.
Feng Chen stepped in front of his son in a flash.
Though no longer the family head, his cultivation was still the highest in the Feng family.
“Feng Chen, are you still shielding him?”
Feng Jie’s face darkened.
“He’s my son.”
Feng Chen’s voice was calm.
His expression didn’t change.
Behind him, Feng Hao’s nose stung.
His fists clenched silently.
His father had always treated him coolly.
But he knew—his father had been silently protecting him all along.
The pressure he had endured to keep Feng Hao on the herbal treatments was unimaginable.
“Let’s go.”
Feng Chen turned.
But Feng Hao didn’t move.
“I am not a waste.”
He swept his gaze across the hall, his voice slow and deliberate.
“The humiliation the Feng family has suffered—I will wash it away in three years.”
The boy’s resolute face and ringing words left a deep impression on everyone present.
This confident Feng Hao no longer seemed like the mediocre talent they had known.
“Enough.
Don’t make things harder for him.
He’s already endured enough.”
The new family head, Feng Lie, sighed softly.
If this boy hadn’t been the family head’s son, none of this would have happened.
He was only a teenager.
The pressure on him now was greater than anyone’s.
No one said another word.
They watched silently as father and son turned and walked away.