From bone collectors to the supreme ruler of humanity

Zhao Yuanlang had already walked up to Lin Yan and was about to slap him down.

Lin Yan lay on the ground, his right arm twitching slightly in pain, the broken ribs rubbing against his chest cavity.

Lin Yan used the enhanced perception he gained after entering the [Viewing Mountains] realm to catch a detail during their earlier exchange.

Every time Zhao Yuanlang strikes with his soft palm, his right shoulder sinks slightly, followed by a slight bend in his left knee, shifting his weight an inch to his right foot.

This is not the normal exertion of force in palm techniques.

Normal power generation originates from the ground and flows through the legs, waist, shoulders, and arms in one continuous motion.

Zhao Yuanlang's power was interrupted at the point between his shoulder and ribs, like water being blocked when flowing through a bend in a stream, requiring him to take a detour to continue.

That bend is on the right side.

A sentence Zhao Yuanlang had said earlier flashed through Lin Yan's mind.

"My palm technique is a mix of feints and real attacks; you can't learn it."

A mixture of truth and deception.

He covered his face with a half-open palm.

It wasn't a particularly sophisticated palm technique from the start.

It's a cover-up.

A glint of light flashed in Lin Yan's eyes as he stared intently at the palm that was hurtling towards him.

"What are you looking at?"

Zhao Yuanlang looked down at him, his right palm suspended in mid-air.

"Let's see when you die," Lin Yan said.

Zhao Yuanlang frowned, his right palm surged with true energy, and he slammed it down on Lin Yan's crown.

Lin Yan did not dodge.

He did something that Zhao Yuanlang never expected.

Lin Yan actually pressed the broken rib inward by half an inch.

The excruciating pain felt like a red-hot knife stabbing into my chest from under my ribs.

But the excruciating pain didn't lead to unconsciousness; instead, it brought a moment of intense clarity.

The seated breathing method nourishes Qi and promotes circulation along the Ren meridian.

Your posture affects your luck and helps you move along the Du meridian.

The bow posture is for concentrating Qi and circulating it through the Chong meridian.

He practiced the three paths countless times; he could walk them with his eyes closed.

Now he's reversing these three paths.

The Qi in the Ren meridian flows upward in reverse, the Qi in the Du meridian flows downward in reverse, and the Qi in the Chong meridian flows back into the Dantian.

The three opposing streams of blood and qi collided at the location of the broken bone in his chest, producing a muffled thud that only he could hear.

[Basic Body Forging (Rough) 100/1000].

The panel flashed in his mind, but Lin Yan didn't look at it at all.

He sprang up from the ground.

Unable to lift his right arm, he used his left hand to grip the broken blade. The excruciating pain from the broken ribs piercing his chest was all pressed into the hilt, and three streams of reversed blood and qi, along with that excruciating pain, poured into the blade.

The force originates from the broken bone, passes through the twisted side of the waist, through the torn back muscles, through the right shoulder at the edge of dislocation, and finally reaches the tip of the knife.

He thrust the knife out.

Before Zhao Yuanlang's right palm could land, the tip of the knife had already arrived.

It wasn't a stab to the throat, but three inches below the right armpit.

That's the position where he shifts his center of gravity every time he strikes with a palm.

The blade tip struck the protective aura.

This time it wasn't a "squeak".

It was a "poof" sound.

The true energy is already weak in that area, as thin as a sheet of paper.

The knife tip pierced through the paper and went straight into the flesh, between the ribs, and into the lung.

Zhao Yuanlang's right palm froze in mid-air, fingers spread, the inner energy in his palm dissipating like a punctured balloon. He looked down at his chest, at the blade embedded in his ribs, then looked up at Lin Yan.

He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but only coughed up a mouthful of bloody foam.

"You—how—"

Lin Yan did not loosen his grip on the knife. He twisted the blade half a turn, and the tip of the knife twisted inside the lung.

"Because you shouldn't have used your palms."

The knife was pulled out, and blood spurted out.

Zhao Yuanlang fell straight down and crashed into the pile of rubble.

Its eyes were still open, and its mouth was still agape.

He probably never understood until his death how a vagrant who had recently been granted a high rank could see through his old wounds.

Lin Yan plopped down on the ground.

The broken blade slipped from his hand and fell to his feet; the knuckles of his left hand were still twitching.

He sat for a few moments, then got up and knelt beside Zhao Yuanlang's body, starting to search through his belongings.

He first pulled out an oilcloth bag from his pocket.

Upon opening, I found three packets of wound medicine and one packet of oral wound medicine, all top-quality products from Qingfengxiang.

Then Lin Yan took out a leather wallet containing several silver notes, not large in denomination, totaling about two hundred taels.

A palm-sized iron token was attached to his belt, with the words "Qingfengxiang" engraved on the front and "Manager" on the back.

Finally, a thin booklet was found in a hidden pocket close to the body.

The cover has three words written on it: "The Palm of Wandering Body".

Lin Yan flipped through two pages.

It's not a fragment, but a complete set of palm techniques, including all the methods for circulating qi from the beginner level to the True Qi Realm.

He tucked the items into his robes, picked up the sword from Zhao Yuanlang's waist, and examined the blade.

The material was actually a hundred-refined steel, the blade was straight, and the edge was not creased at all.

It's a hundred times better than the broken blade in his hand.

He sheathed the knife and tucked it into his waistband.

Footsteps came from the ridge on the left.

Lin Yan gripped his knife and turned around.

Xiong Kuo emerged from the forest, covered in blood, which was still dripping from his thick-backed knife.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene in the narrow passage.

A dozen or so corpses lay scattered among the rubble, with Zhao Yuanlang lying face up in the center, a large hole in his chest still oozing blood. Lin Yan, covered in wounds, stood beside the bodies.

Seven or eight bandits emerged from behind Xiong Kuo, and were all stunned by the scene.

"This is... Zhao Yuanlang of Qingfengxiang?" Xiong Kuo asked Lin Yan in a hoarse voice.

"Yes."

"That Zhao Yuanlang who's at the True Qi Realm?"

"He's at the True Qi Realm, and he has old injuries, including one under his ribs."

Xiong Kuo remained silent for a few moments, then slammed his thick-backed sword into the ground and knelt down on one knee.

The eight bandits behind him looked at each other and then knelt down in unison.

"Chieftain."

Lin Yan leaned against the stone wall at the pass and glanced at the group of people.

"stand up."

Xiong Kuo didn't get up.

"Get up, I have something to say."

Xiong Kuo then stood up.

Lin Yan looked at the scattered corpses in the narrow passage, took out Zhao Yuanlang's packet of wound medicine, and threw it to Xiong Kuo.

"Distribute it to the wounded brothers."

Xiong Kuo caught the medicine packet.

"With Zhao Yuanlang dead, Qingfengxiang headquarters will soon find out. The government won't let it go easily either." He paused before continuing, "We can't stay in the village any longer."

One of the bandits asked in a low voice, "Chief, where are we going?"

"Those who wish to go home, go home and be given enough travel expenses. Those who wish to follow me, go into the mountains with Xiong Kuo and set up hidden sentries in deeper places."

Instead of occupying mountain strongholds, they broke into smaller groups of three to five, hiding on different hilltops. They communicated using coded messages, avoiding face-to-face meetings and gatherings.

Xiong Kuo frowned: "And you, Chieftain?"

"I have to go."

"Where to?"

Lin Yan gazed at the vast mountains and forests outside the pass.

"I'm going to Qingzhou to take care of something, and then I'll go to Shanbei."

Xiong Kuo's expression changed: "North of the mountain? That's a battlefield! The government troops and the northern barbarians are fighting to the death, and you're going to that kind of place alone—"

Lin Yan interrupted him:

"It's not just to escape being hunted down. I promised someone I'd deliver something to Qingzhou. After that, I need a place where Qing Fengxiang can't reach. The northern battlefield is the most suitable."

Xiong Kuo opened his mouth.

"Don't worry," Lin Yan said, "I'm not going to my death."