Ultimate True Lord

A glance swept across the inner courtyard disciples, and Wang Yan was nowhere to be seen. Half a month ago, he had to pack his bags and leave in disgrace when his time was up.

Ultimately, there is no fundamental difference between the inner and outer academies. It's just that inner academy disciples have a slight advantage in talent and a greater chance of success. Even so, no one dares to say for sure that they can break through the White Sand Barrier.

They usually look down on the people in the outer courtyard, but they should think about what their fate would be if they stopped there as well.

A corner of the inner courtyard.

Jiang Ming tilted his head back and drank the medicinal soup in one gulp. The warm soup slid down his throat, carrying a slight rusty taste. At first, there was no intense sensation, only a long, gentle medicinal effect slowly spreading.

After a short while, the warm current slowly seeped into my limbs and bones, nourishing my blood and qi.

He could clearly sense several exceptionally pure strands of warmth quietly seeping into the core of his body, disappearing without a trace. He felt his previously stagnant blood and energy ease somewhat.

I heard that this situation can last for a full half day.

He sighed inwardly; the treatment of formal disciples was indeed different.

The medicinal power of this bowl of red sand soup is so mild and lingering, it's no wonder it contains a red herb that costs hundreds of taels of silver. If I could drink a bowl of it every day, it would probably greatly benefit my martial arts training.

In the inner courtyard, after drinking their medicinal soup, many formal disciples began to ask Master Liu questions about cultivation. Jiang Ming also asked questions.

"The so-called 'hardness' is the unyielding strength that a martial artist develops by training one part of their body to the extreme. To increase hardness, one must temper the body with medicine and food, and continuously refine and strengthen that power."

Teacher Liu still had that same pot-bellied appearance, with a loosely tied cloth belt around his waist and his chest pocket bulging with sweet cakes.

Even when instructing his disciples on cultivation, he was not proper. He would reach into his mouth with his fingers, pull out a sweet pastry, and slowly put it in his mouth to chew, as if he couldn't stand being without food.

He chewed a few more times before continuing, satisfied.

"This strength lies in the three words: fierce, concentrated, and short."

"Meng" means to strike with force and power.

Condensation refers to the gathering of qi and blood without dispersing, resulting in a thick and refined substance.

"Short-lived means extremely energy-consuming and difficult to sustain."

He looked at Jiang Ming and pointed out the key point.

"Those who have mastered the ultimate strength can lift heavy objects with ease, and their palm strikes are as powerful as hammers; ordinary martial artists would find it difficult to withstand a single blow."

"The stronger the explosive power, the weaker the follow-up strength. You beginners in cultivating strength should first learn to control your strength and not just rush in blindly, wasting your own energy and blood."

Jiang Ming nodded, keeping these words firmly in mind.

Having only recently entered the realm of Qigong, he was acutely aware of the weakness of explosive power being unsustainable. Master Liu's words struck at the heart of his problem, and he immediately calmed down, silently pondering the art of controlling his Qi and blood.

Under the shade of a tree ahead, Master Liu, sitting in a bamboo armchair, stuffed another piece of sweet cake into his mouth and mumbled a standard.

"I previously taught you some simple methods for training your strength control; practice whichever one feels most comfortable with."

"When you can use powerful force three times in a short period of time without showing any weakness or shortness of breath, then you can be said to have mastered the control of your Qi and blood."

In the inner courtyard, Jiang Ming silently began to practice one of the methods. He held a wooden bowl full of water in one hand, held his breath, and tried his best to control his palm so that the water droplets would not spill.

There are further advanced methods for mastering this technique.

One hand steadily holds the bowl of water still, while the other hand suddenly bursts forth with powerful force, delivering a swift punch. After the punch is thrown and the momentum is released, the bowl of water held still remains steady, without spilling a drop. This is what it means to control the release and release of power at will.

Whether it was the effect of that bowl of red sand soup or not, Jiang Ming's practice today was much smoother than usual. After half a day of practice, his previously unstable internal strength had clearly become much more refined, saving him a lot of time.

"Red medicine, it's really good stuff."

Early the next morning.

Jiang Ming then received good news: he had previously asked someone to search for the disabled and down-on-his-luck martial arts masters in the city, and now he finally had news of them.

An old, one-armed martial arts master had already shown interest, but was currently held back by personal matters, and asked Jiang Ming to meet him in a few days.

"Finally, we're seeing some progress."

A hint of joy flashed in Jiang Ming's eyes. If he could obtain this technique, he could further enhance the Red Sand Palm and increase his cultivation speed by a full 50%.

With this enhancement, his cultivation progress, which was as slow as a tortoise compared to other formal disciples, should finally improve.

Moreover, Jiang Ming glanced at the Primal Furnace and discovered that the bowl of red sand soup from yesterday had significantly accelerated the recovery of his essence and blood. The Primal Furnace was now covered with dense Taotie patterns.

Hongsha Martial Arts School, inner courtyard.

Just as Jiang Ming was about to devote himself to practicing the methods of controlling and releasing qi and blood as usual, news from Wen Jin's side arrived.

The newly formed herb-gathering team of the Wen family is ready, and he can start working today. Today will be his first time going out of the city with the team to gather herbs.

Without saying a word, Jiang Ming went straight back to the tent hut and took out the self-defense item he had prepared beforehand.

A dozen or so packets of lime wrapped in thin oil paper.

A small, finely crafted iron meteor hammer, about the size of a duck egg.

A three-edged dart that can pierce through bones.

After tidying up, he stood in the room, his clothes rolled up. A gray cloth pouch hung from his waist, tied at his side with a thin strap, within easy reach. Inside were more than a dozen packets of lime.

In addition, a sinew rope was wrapped diagonally next to the waist pouch, with a small iron hammer the size of a duck egg hanging from the end. Normally, it could be wrapped around the waist, and in case of danger, it could be used to launch a surprise attack with a flick of the wrist.

I glanced down at my left hand.

A cowhide wrist guard on the forearm, with a hidden pocket on the outside containing a dart that can penetrate bone.

Jiang Ming thought for a moment, then put on a worn-out plain-colored short jacket, which looked unremarkable and covered up the hidden weapons all over his body.

After changing his clothes, he glanced at the cramped tent. He immediately decided that once he returned from this herb-gathering trip, he would rent a courtyard outside.

A larger space makes daily life and martial arts practice more comfortable.

Fifteen minutes later, Jiang Ming gave Jiang Tao a few instructions, then turned and left the Red Sand Martial Arts School, walking out of a side alley and heading towards the inner city.

As I walked along, the streets of the outer city were quite deserted. Nearly half of the shops on both sides were closed, their doors worn and tattered, with only a few shops still having a few people around. Dust swirled on the road, and blackened, smelly junk could be seen everywhere.

At the corner of the alley, several beggars were emaciated, their clothes tattered, their hair dry and brittle, tangled in knots. They huddled weakly, occasionally uttering a few feeble pleas for help.

Jiang Ming walked to the head of a bridge. Old willows drooped on the bank, and a crude clay sculpture, about the size of a palm and with indistinct features, stood on the muddy ground under the tree. Several crooked and withered incense sticks were stuck in front of it.

A woman was kneeling in worship, her eyes bloodshot, her expression numb and blank, and faint bloodstains on her forehead from kowtowing. She neither cried nor cried out, but mechanically kowtowed, murmuring softly.

"May the Holy Embryo protect my daughter... save her..."

"May the Holy Embryo protect her... and help her survive this epidemic..."

After reciting it, the woman mechanically repeated a strange incantation.

"Upon enlightenment of the primordial truth, the sacred embryo was born into the world."

"Upon enlightenment of the primordial truth, the sacred embryo was born into the world..."