Outside the courtyard, Zhao Mu didn’t linger in conversation with Xiangzi, only carefully explaining the specific use of the Skin-Tempering Powder.

Three steps, four procedures—so intricate it made Xiangzi’s scalp tingle.

No wonder Uncle Jie had said the greatest knowledge in martial arts lay in elixirs.

Seeing Xiangzi’s expression, Zhao Mu guessed his thoughts, smirked, and tossed him a wooden token. “Look at you, poor as dirt. Elixirs are a deep subject—learn slowly. One misstep, and you’ll not only waste the elixir’s power but risk harming your blood energy.”

“Take this jade token. It’ll get you one medicinal bath in the back courtyard. If you have questions, ask the senior brothers on duty at the gate. If you can’t solve it, mention my name.”

As the saying goes, hear the tone to know the man. Though Zhao Mu’s face remained stern and his words carried a barb, the concern beneath was clear as day.

Xiangzi understood, clasping his fists earnestly. “Thank you, Master Zhao.”

Zhao Mu said no more, only tossing out coldly, “Just my duty. No need for all this fuss—take it.”

Before Xiangzi could respond, he turned and left.

Xiangzi gave a wry smile. This guy’s cold on the outside, warm on the inside.

With Master Zhao gone, the day’s skin-grinding training was done.

The ash ordeal had drained the spirit of most apprentices.

As Xiangzi trudged back, covered in dust, the gazes of the young apprentices in the room fixed on him.

A few bold ones crowded around, eagerly asking how he endured the ore powder, their envy plain as day.

For a moment, Xiangzi was surrounded, almost like the moon amidst stars.

The scene left him caught between laughter and tears. Pointing to the dusty powder on his body, he said, “Folks, spare me for now, will you? Let me wash up first.”

Seeing no trace of arrogance on Xiangzi’s face, the group nodded inwardly. Even the prouder, high-born apprentices softened, offering him respectful salutes.

Xiangzi returned their gestures with a smile.

As dusk deepened, the sun hadn’t yet set, nor had the crescent moon risen, painting the sky an eerie black-red.

Under a large locust tree outside the courtyard, in the hazy interplay of light and shadow, a towering figure silently practiced his stance.

Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions relied on stance work to channel blood energy, tempering the skin and strengthening the muscles.

Today, Master Zhao had only taught the first three forms: Hand Tension, Foot Tension, and Waist Tension—using the blood energy from these three areas to tighten the body’s skin membrane, known as the “Three Skin-Grinding Tensions.”

Having been taught Mind-Intent Six Harmonies Fist by Lin Junqing, Xiangzi was decent at manipulating blood energy and force. Yet he still couldn’t achieve the “move the skin, not the bones” required for the Three Skin-Grinding Tensions.

Master Zhao had made it sound simple: “Imagine blood energy flowing from your dantian to your fingertips. Slowly open your hands, tightening the skin membrane toward your palms, like grasping cotton without squeezing it, feeling a slight tension in the flesh. When exhaling, relax your hands, letting the skin loosen.”

But practicing it revealed its difficulty.

Perhaps because Xiangzi started martial arts late, his skin and muscles were too tightly bound to his bones. Despite many attempts, he couldn’t find the knack—termed “stiff bones, rigid muscles, blocked energy” in the trade.

Beads of sweat dripped from Xiangzi’s forehead, soaking his gray shirt, but he seemed oblivious, repeatedly adjusting his breathing to guide blood energy to his hands, feet, and waist.

After an unknown time, dusk gave way to thick night, with even the crescent moon peeking out.

Amidst rows of [Four-Square Horse Stance +2] notifications, a long-awaited “ding” sounded in Xiangzi’s mind:

[Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions +1]

[Progress: 1/100 (Entry)]

In that instant, the dark skin beneath Xiangzi’s gray shirt wriggled like earthworms.

Xiangzi’s heart leapt with joy. This blasted technique is tough, but it’s finally on the panel.

Among the techniques he’d learned, only Mind-Intent Six Harmonies Fist was trickier than this skin-tempering method.

He let out a long breath, slowly ceasing his stance.

Though Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions was troublesome, it had one advantage—it could be trained alongside Four-Square Horse Stance.

In just half a day, his Four-Square Horse Stance had gained nearly 30 proficiency points—a true two-for-one deal.

Now that it was on the panel, no matter how hard, it was just a matter of time.

With that thought, Xiangzi touched the small cloth pouch in his chest.

Skin-Tempering Powder?

Time to test its effects.

The martial hall was vast, with the apprentice quarters alone divided into three large sections.

Thankfully, signs pointed the way. After walking for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Xiangzi found the back courtyard.

As he entered, a familiar voice called out.

“Brother Xiang, over here!”

Jiang Wangshui ran up excitedly. “Brother Xiang, you here for dinner too? Let me tell you, the beast meat here is so fragrant and boosts blood energy!”

Following the voice, Xiangzi saw several burly cooks standing stiffly at the kitchen door, each holding a large pot.

Flames roared upward, and the enticing aroma of meat wafted through the courtyard with each toss of the pan.

An open kitchen? Baolin Martial Hall sure is fancy!

The menu board listed a dizzying array of dishes.

Xiangzi’s eyes widened at the prices:

Braised Carp Demon Fish (Unranked): 8 silver dollars per serving.

Stewed Demon Bear Heart (Unranked): 10 silver dollars per serving.

Stir-fried Tiger Demon Meat (Ninth Rank): 12 silver dollars per serving…

Servants bustled about with porcelain bowls.

Xiangzi weighed the heft of those bowls, secretly stunned.

By that measure, the whole tiger demon heart he’d roasted at the Li family mine was worth over a hundred silver dollars!

Too bad he was now at the martial hall. With his ability to withstand five-colored ore, if he slipped into the woods near a mine, wouldn’t he make a fortune?

Truth be told, with his current triple-pillar blood energy consumption, he badly needed beast meat—but his pockets were nearly empty.

A penny can stump a hero, as the saying goes.

“Brother Xiang, eaten yet? If not, join us!” Perhaps noting Xiangzi’s standout performance, Jiang Wangshui’s smile was warmer.

Xiangzi shook his head with a smile, pointing to his dusty clothes. “Nah, you guys eat. Look at me—I need a bath first.”

Jiang Wangshui started to say more, but Chen Jia tugged his sleeve. “No worries, let’s eat first and catch up with Brother Xiang later.”

As he spoke, Chen Jia subtly flashed a small brocade box. “Young Master Jiang, didn’t you want to try the medicinal bath here? I got a ‘Skin-Grinding Pill’ today—perfect chance to test it.”

Xiangzi clasped his fists, not sparing Chen Jia another glance, and headed straight to the bath area.

Chen Jia’s expression froze, as if doused with cold water, his urge to show off vanishing instantly.