The sky was barely touched with pale blue when the younger generation of the Feng family began arriving at the training ground.
After only a few punches, Feng Hao felt something was off.
His usual routine wasn’t doing anything for him.
“Let me try the Tiger Movement Chapter.”
The first diagram appeared in his mind.
He lowered his body and assumed the crawling pose.
He adjusted his breathing rhythm, rising and falling slowly.
Within moments, he was drenched in sweat.
“Hold on.
Hold on.”
He chanted silently in his heart.
Every repetition brought a sense of improvement.
In a single day, he completed nearly fifty cycles.
Somewhere in the midst of it, he felt he had touched the threshold of the third-rank high stage.
Sweat blurred his eyes and dripped to the ground.
The younger Feng family members arriving for practice found themselves staring at his strange posture.
Was he slacking off?
It didn’t look like it.
“Does it really take that much effort?”
The pose looked simple, yet Feng Hao seemed barely able to maintain it.
Curious, a few of them tried the same posture.
It felt easy.
“Ha.
Still putting on a show.”
They snorted dismissively, looking at Feng Hao with contempt.
“What’s going on here?!”
A sharp shout rang out.
The gathered children flinched.
Some scrambled to their feet; others hastily began their fist practice.
It was Feng Ren.
Seeing the chaotic training ground, Feng Ren’s face darkened.
He strode over, his anger boiling.
The recent events had already frayed his nerves.
Watching the younger generation slack off only stoked his fury.
The children parted, revealing Feng Hao’s crouched form.
The slowly rising and falling movement, the rhythm of his breathing—it was like a powerful, savage beast lying in ambush, ready to strike.
One look was enough for Feng Ren, a mid-rank Martial Master, to see something was different.
The anger in his eyes shifted to shock.
Watching the boy’s young, trembling form, his own breath quickened.
This was no simple rising and falling.
Each fall represented a precise modulation of force.
“How is this possible?
How is he doing this?”
Feng Ren was speechless.
Such precise control over one’s strength—how could a mere third-rank Martial Apprentice manage it?
“Could it be a body-tempering technique?”
The thought made his eyelids twitch.
The children, hearing no reprimand for a long time, stole glances at Feng Ren.
They saw his stunned expression.
Without a word from him, they all stopped and watched the rising and falling figure.
As time passed, they realized there was something different about what he was doing.
They couldn’t say what.
They could only keep watching.
“Hold on.
Hold on.”
Feng Hao had stopped hearing the world around him.
His ears were filled with the sounds of his own muscles shifting and bones grinding.
He didn’t know Feng Ren had arrived.
All he knew was that he was about to break through.
A series of sharp cracks rang from every joint in his body.
In the silent training ground, the sound was startlingly loud.
“He actually broke through!”
The younger children gaped.
Now they were certain: the simple-looking pose was anything but simple.
With the breakthrough, both his muscle resilience and force control improved dramatically.
Feng Hao’s movements grew easier.
He leaped to his feet and looked around.
Everyone was staring at him.
Only then did he remember where he was.
“Morning practice begins!
What are you all standing around for?”
Feng Ren’s shout jolted everyone back to reality.
The training ground soon returned to its normal bustle, filled with cries and shouts.
Feng Ren glanced at Feng Hao but said nothing.
Doubt lingered in his eyes.
When morning practice ended, Feng Lei and his group surprisingly didn’t come looking for trouble.
Feng Hao blinked at the dumbfounded Feng Lei, shook his head, and headed back to his own courtyard.
Staying here was a waste of time.
He needed to focus entirely on the Tiger Movement Chapter.
He thought about asking Feng Chen.
His time was tight now.
At this rate, even reaching peak Martial Apprentice would take at least a year.
He couldn’t afford to waste any more.
…
Leaving the training ground, Feng Ren went straight to the meeting hall.
Feng Lie, the four elders, and Feng Chen were all there, each handling their own tasks.
“Family Head.
Elders.
Brother Chen.”
Feng Ren entered and cupped his hands toward Feng Lie.
When his gaze passed over Feng Chen, there was a strange glint in his eyes.
“Mm.
How are the younger ones progressing?”
Feng Lie set down the accounts book and asked out of habit.
“The same as always.”
Feng Ren paused.
“But Feng Hao broke through during practice.”
“Oh?”
The four elders and Feng Chen all looked up.
The boy’s movements were impossible to ignore now.
“Brother Chen.”
Feng Ren turned to Feng Chen, a complex expression flickering across his face.
He was almost certain Feng Hao was practicing a high-rank body-tempering technique.
But it wasn’t one from the Feng family’s martial library.
Feng Chen raised an eyebrow.
Though no longer the family head, he was still a member of the Feng family.
He couldn’t ignore such matters.
Besides, Feng Lie had just taken over and needed time to settle in.
“Feng Hao was practicing a different body-tempering technique on the training ground.”
A third-rank Martial Apprentice couldn’t have created such a technique on his own.
As Feng Ren saw it, the only explanation lay with Feng Chen.
“Different?”
Feng Chen frowned.
“How is it different?”
After a moment’s study, Feng Ren spoke slowly.
“That technique of his tempers both physical toughness and force control simultaneously.
It should be at least Yellow-rank high-grade.”
“Yellow-rank high-grade?!”
All six of them shot to their feet.
The entire Feng family had only one Yellow-rank high-grade manual—and that was a martial technique, not a body-tempering method.