High Martial Arts: Liver Becomes the Master of the Universe

Chapter 8 Freshmen
The atmosphere at the dinner table was silent.

The orange light cast long shadows of the father and son onto the wall behind them.

Qin Dahai had already put down his rice spoon and picked up his chopsticks first.

He picked up a piece of green vegetable with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, and chewed very slowly and softly, almost without making a sound.

His gaze never left the person opposite him.

Qin Feng was starving.

A full day of intense training had left his body like a bottomless black hole, desperately craving energy and nutrients.

Although the spiritual energy from the potion Sun Chantang gave him hadn't been used up, his body's hunger instinct was irrepressible.

He picked up his chopsticks and, without any hesitation, began shoveling rice into his mouth.

He shoved mouthfuls of rice, processed meat, and vegetables into his mouth, his cheeks bulging out.

His eating manners were far from elegant, even somewhat crude, with each swallow accompanied by the sliding of his Adam's apple, filled with a primal, craving for food.

"Gudong."

After swallowing a large mouthful of food, he picked up the water glass beside him, took a big gulp, and let out a comfortable sigh.

Qin Dahai watched silently, his own food barely touched.

He watched his son wolf down his food, his hair soaked with sweat, the lingering fatigue on his face, and his surprisingly bright eyes.

His right hand, his intact hand, was holding chopsticks, suspended in mid-air.

Qin Dahai wanted to ask.

Were you tired from training today?
Was the money well spent?
Is my body... still able to hold on?

Has there been... even the slightest progress?
But each question felt like a huge boulder stuck in his throat, preventing him from speaking.

He fears.

I'm afraid my concern will become a source of pressure.

She feared that her questions would expose the vulnerability her son was hiding behind his strength.

He'd seen it too many times.

The son dragged his exhausted body home and wolfed down his food just like today, but the physical test data he received the next day was still as glaring as ever.

The greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

This cycle has been going on for eight years.

He dared not give his son any more extra burdens, not even a casual greeting.

All he could do was watch silently and, in his clumsy way, prepare the most lavish dinner he could for his son.

A bowl of rice, piled up like a small mountain, was quickly emptied.

Qin Feng put down the empty bowl, which was so clean it looked like it had been licked clean, with not a single grain of rice left.

"dad."

He spoke, his voice slightly muffled from eating too quickly.

Qin Dahai's body trembled slightly, as if he had been startled awake from his thoughts.

He raised his eyes, looked at his son, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he squeezed out a single syllable:
"Ok?"

"one more bowl."

Qin Feng pushed the empty bowl over.

Qin Dahai smiled, turned around, and filled his bowl to the brim again.

This time, Qin Feng did not pick up his chopsticks immediately.

He placed the steaming bowl of rice on the table, raised his head, and looked directly at his father with clear eyes.

Qin Feng looked at his father's weathered face, the deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gray hairs that had appeared at his temples, and his empty left sleeve.

There were red patterns inside the left sleeve, which were the hidden wounds left by the Flame Demon, which often burned unbearably and tormented him.

However, in order to treat Qin Feng's illness, Qin Dahai had not paid attention to his own hidden injuries for many years, and had been bearing them on his own.

"Dad, I have good news."

Qin Feng took a deep breath.

Qin Dahai's right hand, which was holding chopsticks, stopped.

He slowly shifted his gaze from the rice bowl to his son's face.

For the first time, a violent ripple stirred in those usually calm eyes.

"You said."

His voice was somewhat strained, with a hint of hoarseness that he himself was unaware of.

"Today, at the Limit Martial Arts Academy, Master Sun Chantang personally met with me."

Qin Feng spoke slowly, ensuring that every word was clearly heard by his father.

"He noticed my old problem and said that I had been suffering from it since I was a child."

As Qin Feng spoke, he could clearly see that his father's hand, which was gripping the chopsticks, had knuckles that had turned white from excessive force.

"Then, he treated me."

"He said he used his unique skill, the 'Perfect Hand,' to help me expel all the toxins that had accumulated in my body for eight years."

"Dad." Qin Feng looked at his father's widening eyes and said, enunciating each word clearly:

"My illness is cured."

"Master Sun said that I am now just like a normal person."

"He cured me."

The moment the last four words were uttered, time seemed to stand still.

The living room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Outside the window, a civilian anti-gravity vehicle silently glided past, its headlights sweeping across the wall and illuminating Qin Dahai's face, which was filled with shock.

He remained motionless, like a sculpture that had been petrified in an instant.

one second.

two seconds.

Five seconds.

ten seconds.

"Dang Cang——"

A crisp sound broke the silence.

The metal chopsticks in Qin Dahai's hand slipped from his trembling fingers and fell onto the hard floor.

He didn't react.

His lips moved, like a fish out of water, but he couldn't make a sound.

His eyes turned red rapidly, visible to the naked eye.

A layer of water shimmered, condensed, and swirled in his eyes, yet stubbornly refused to fall.

"well……"

He finally managed to squeeze out a broken, off-key syllable from deep in his throat.

Immediately afterwards, he stood up abruptly.

The movement was too sudden and too violent; the chair slid backward as his thigh struck it, the chair legs scraping against the ground with a piercing shriek.

Qin Dahai turned around and, almost fleeing, staggered towards the bathroom with his back to Qin Feng.

"I...I'm going to have a smoke."

His voice was muffled and unclear.

"boom!"

He slammed the bathroom door shut.

Inside the door, there was the sound of a lighter clicking repeatedly before it finally lit.

Qin Feng sat quietly at the dining table, looking at the tightly closed door.

He didn't move or speak.

The man behind the door, the man who had sheltered him, was releasing the pain, self-blame, worry, and resentment that had accumulated over eight years.

Those were my father's tears.

He lowered his head, silently picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat his second bowl of rice.

The sweet aroma of the rice melts on the tip of your tongue.

Qin Feng savored it carefully; it was a taste of "hope" and "new life".

……

Qin Feng slept soundly that night.

After a day of extreme training, his body is repairing and growing at an unprecedented rate.

The gentle energy left in his body by the nutritional supplements was like the most competent gardener, nourishing every parched cell in his body.

Deep within my consciousness, the panel for "Heaven rewards diligence" floated quietly.

The passive effect of the [Imperial Basic Body Tempering Method (Beginner Level)] is like a tireless, precision engine, meticulously accumulating the capital for him on the path to becoming a powerful figure.

Qin Feng had an incredibly magnificent dream.

In his dream, his perspective defied gravity, soaring out of the atmosphere of the morning star and flying through the boundless depths of the universe.

He saw massive, behemoth-like interstellar cargo ships traversing fixed routes, their hulls gleaming with the emblems of various merchant guilds.

He saw burning planets and fractured asteroid belts, scars left by war, silently telling the story of the empire's iron will and expeditions.

He saw the magnificent Creation Nebula, as if painted by God himself, where countless new stars were being conceived and born, radiating mesmerizing light and heat.

He saw those figures that only existed in the news and legends.

Some people, dressed in power armor and wielding chainsaw-wielding greatswords, fought fiercely against the ferocious alien war commanders in the sky above the asteroid belt. Each collision unleashed a dazzling light comparable to a supernova.

Someone sat cross-legged in the orbit of a gas giant, and with a single breath, triggered energy tides across billions of miles, creating a psionic storm that swept through the planet's rings.

"King of Fighters" Rocks, "Dragon Snake" Wang Chao... one after another, these resounding names and god-like figures flashed before his eyes.

It was an era that belonged to the strong, a magnificent and passionate era.

And he, Qin Feng, after eight years of silence, finally got the first ticket to step onto this stage.

(End of this chapter)