It was only when Daoist Jixin mentioned it that Qin Sang realized Old Wu was actually under forty years old.

Old Wu was from Jiaoming Commandery in the North. He originally had two sons and a daughter and made a living by farming. Despite their poverty, they managed to get by.

Last year, a series of disasters struck, and the northern regions were engulfed in turmoil. Rebel soldiers wreaked havoc, indiscriminately killing innocents.

Old Wu’s village was pillaged by these marauders. His wife and children were brutally killed, and he only managed to escape with his young daughter. Soon after, his daughter fell gravely ill and died on the road due to a lack of medical resources.

In the blink of an eye, his once-familial household of five was reduced to just Old Wu, who, dazed and confused, followed fellow villagers to the City of Three Witches. There, he worked as a boatman at the first dock and spent nights huddled under the eaves of households.

Seeing his plight, the Daoist took him in and offered him a place to stay on the mountain.

Who could have foreseen the northern situation would deteriorate to such a state? It was uncertain when this vast kingdom would ever stabilize.

Spring passed, and autumn arrived.

Every morning, fallen leaves would blanket the courtyard, blown by the mountain wind. Before he knew it, a whole year had passed since Qin Sang had come to this world. He wrapped himself in his clothes and headed towards Qingyang Hall to prepare the fire for boiling medicine.

After starting the fire, while practicing his boxing in the courtyard, he happened to see Old Wu.

They nodded at each other, and Old Wu, hunched over, silently walked out.

Watching Old Wu’s stooped figure disappear beyond the temple gates, Qin Sang shook his head.

He never imagined that Old Wu, despite his seemingly frail and aged appearance, had such strength. He had been working as a burlak for over half a year without mentioning returning to his hometown.

During this period, Old Wu left early and returned late every day, never taking a break. Sometimes, if Qin Sang slept in, he wouldn’t see him all day.

Seeing Old Wu’s determination made Qin Sang feel a bit ashamed, so he worked even harder and rarely slacked off.

Qin Sang had never seen Old Wu smile, and since he was mute, their greetings were limited to hand gestures with no change in his expression.

It was unclear if Old Wu had yet to recover from his tragic past and had lost interest in everything, giving Qin Sang the impression of someone who had become a mere shell of a person.

Although they shared the same room, Qin Sang didn’t find it inconvenient and gradually got used to it.

In these six months, practicing fist art, cultivating, and herbal baths never ceased. Knowing the effectiveness of the herbal baths, Qin Sang was highly motivated. He always accompanied the Daoist up the mountain to gather herbs, covering every peak in the vast Huanghuang Mountain Range.

The banks of Wuling River were rugged and perilous, with packs of wild beasts. They inevitably faced danger while foraging in the deep mountains.

The most perilous encounter was with a pack of wild wolves.

It happened one night when Qin Sang and the Daoist were cooking in a cave. A group of over a dozen wild wolves, drawn by the firelight, arrived. By the time Qin Sang heard their howling and extinguished the fire, it was too late. He only had an iron rod he had bartered from a stonemason.

The wolves surrounded the cave entrance. The Daoist’s Beast-Repelling Powder made from beast dung was ineffective, leaving them with no choice but to fight for their lives.

Qin Sang held the iron rod, blocking the entrance alone. Using his rod in place of his fists, he performed the Tiger Subduing Long Fist.

What he had expected to be a grueling battle turned out to be quite manageable. Due to the small size of the cave entrance, only three wolves could enter at a time, and Qin Sang found it relatively easy to handle them.

With just an iron rod, he crushed the alpha's skull and quickly dealt with several others. The remaining wolves fled with their tails between their legs.

After this practical experience, the Daoist no longer needed to be asked; he always brought Qin Sang along for herb gathering.

It was after this battle that Qin Sang realized his strength might truly be considerable.

To confirm his feeling, he later sought out Yang Zhen’s disciples at the Wuwei Escort Agency for sparring. Although he always pretended to be at a disadvantage, Qin Sang knew he was only exerting half of his strength.

Their fist arts were far superior to the Tiger Subduing Long Fist. Despite their seemingly formidable moves, they appeared slow to Qin Sang. If he wanted, he could easily find their weaknesses and counter them.

With these martial skills, Qin Sang’s thinking inevitably became more agile.

The rebellion in the northern regions had been raging for a long time without respite. Various counties saw uprisings one after another, while the commandery kings responded passively, leaving the official army exhausted and frustrated.

In the middle of the year, the holy emperor issued a decree, calling on righteous and ambitious individuals to join the army to quell the northern rebellion. Those who achieved remarkable feats would soon be granted titles of nobility. When the decree was announced, the City of Three Witches buzzed with activity. Many aspiring individuals headed north to aid the royal cause. Among them, three of Yang Zhen’s disciples set out together, eager to make their mark.

Qin Sang was also somewhat tempted, but he was not driven by the allure of wealth and power.

Daoist Jixin’s words had always lingered in Qin Sang’s mind. Even immortal masters could not completely abandon their desires and had to enjoy their glory. Being close to nobles might offer a chance to connect with immortal masters.

However, Qin Sang had never experienced war and felt apprehensive. The battlefield was merciless; if he were accidentally struck by an arrow, it would be a significant loss.

Moreover, there were many talented and exceptional individuals in the world. How strong was his martial arts compared to the skilled martial artists with internal force? Could he truly stand out?

Because of this, Qin Sang found it difficult to decide. Ultimately, he chose to remain at the Daoist temple, patiently cultivating the Netherworld Scripture. He resolved to reconsider after breaking through the first stage.

Day after day, Qin Sang practiced diligently. The small thread of qi within him had grown from the size of a hair to a small current flowing through his meridians, finally approaching a breakthrough.

The herbal bath he was using was freshly prepared. As he neared a breakthrough, his need for medicinal energy increased. The previous batch had lasted only five days.

In the evening, after completing his evening exercises with patience, Qin Sang waited until deep into the night. He shut all doors and windows securely, sat cross-legged on his bed, and recited the Scripture of Tranquility silently several times before calming his mind and focusing on his cultivation.

In no time, five cosmic orbits had passed. The qi flowed through his meridians, and Qin Sang had a vague sense that after the next cosmic orbit, he would achieve a breakthrough!

The Netherworld Scripture did not mention whether there were additional bottlenecks between the two stages of realms. Nervously, Qin Sang continued to cultivate. After one cosmic orbit, the qi gathered in his dantian.

Suddenly, Qin Sang let out a muffled groan. The qi in his dantian began to bubble and surged with intense pain, which rapidly spread through his meridians, followed by a tearing agony.

Fortunately, the pain was intense but brief, quickly giving way to a sense of relief.

A deep joy appeared on Qin Sang’s face. He suddenly recalled the inner vision described in the Netherworld Scripture. Instinctively, he "looked" into his dantian, and with a loud boom, everything became clear. He could finally see the qi clearly.

A blue stream of qi was coiled within his dantian, mesmerizingly beautiful and enchanting.

Qin Sang felt a stir within him. The qi moved in response to his thoughts, flowing into his meridians like a rushing river. It circulated at a speed several times faster than before, and soon, a cosmic orbit was completed. The improvement was even more pronounced than during the first stage.

Continuing his practice without pause, Qin Sang completed the tenth cosmic orbit. The pain he remembered did not reappear, and he was greatly surprised. He decided to take a break for the moment.

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