The medicinal bath area was an impressive setup, with individual cabins ensuring privacy.

Thick brass pipes, as wide as arms, fed into massive wooden tubs, where white steam rose, accompanied by the faint clack-clack of gears grinding beneath the floor.

Outside the embassy district, where in Forty-Nine City could you find a steam engine? Let alone one used as extravagantly as a water heater.

As expected of Baolin Martial Hall, standing at the pinnacle of Forty-Nine City—even the apprentice quarters were this luxurious.

But such opulence came at a steep price.

Without Zhao Mu’s wooden token, a single bath here cost three silver dollars for an ordinary apprentice. Add the cost of medicinal herbs, and the price could scare you stiff.

And that was just for one bath.

Rumor had it that martial artists who could handle potent elixirs needed at least three baths a week.

No wonder people said the path of martial arts was paved with silver and resources.

—

Xiangzi soaked in the tub, holding a packet of herbs—purchased for ten silver dollars at the entrance.

The senior brother in charge, initially cold-faced, warmed up the moment he saw Zhao Mu’s token.

Not only did he carefully explain the bath procedure, but when Xiangzi asked about using the Skin-Grinding Pill, he eagerly provided the herbs.

Medicinal baths were all about blending various herbs to harmonize their potency. These herbs, gathered from the outskirts of the Chen family mine, were perfect for nurturing the effects of the Skin-Grinding Pill.

As for Xiangzi’s Skin-Tempering Powder, with its milder potency, it only needed to be dissolved in clear water.

Xiangzi didn’t understand the intricacies, relying entirely on the senior brother’s instructions, but he still decisively spent his last silver dollars to buy the herbs.

At Baolin Martial Hall, Xiangzi wasn’t worried about his Skin-Grinding Pill—obtained from a Li family guard—raising suspicions. If questioned, he could just pin it on Lin Junqing, far off in Shencheng.

What, a seventh-rank martial artist and former senior brother of the martial hall can’t produce a single Skin-Grinding Pill?

With that thought, Xiangzi opened the Skin-Tempering Powder.

The reddish-brown powder scattered into the tub, tingeing the water with an odd hue.

The moment it touched his skin, a stinging pain shot through his membrane.

Xiangzi sat upright in the tub, silently channeling Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions. His skin visibly rippled with faint movement.

Recalling Zhao Mu’s instructions, Xiangzi spun the three pillars of blood energy in his dantian like a top, guiding the energy toward his skin.

As his pores opened, a mysterious sensation surged into his mind.

The gentle water seemed to envelop every pore.

The elixir’s potency pierced through!

Tiny black-gray particles slowly seeped from his skin—a sign of the elixir refining his membrane.

Xiangzi’s skin gradually reddened, followed by a tingling, electric numbness that coursed through his body, stirring his heart.

But the panel’s precise control kept his movements steady.

The stronger the reaction, the better the effect—especially for the first dose.

—

After an unknown time, the water’s luster faded, and the strange redness on Xiangzi’s skin gradually receded.

He slowly opened his eyes, frowning at his seemingly unchanged skin.

Standing abruptly, without bothering to dry off, Xiangzi pulled a short dagger from his bundle.

The dagger felt familiar, warm to the touch. Xiangzi gave a wry smile—it was a gift from Liu Tang during his first ore route, later used to ambush Liang Hua, a ninth-rank martial artist from the Li family.

He pressed the dagger’s tip to his arm, applying slight force.

Only a faint white scratch remained.

It worked!

Xiangzi’s heart leapt. Thanks to Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions and the Skin-Tempering Powder, his skin now offered some protection against sharp weapons.

With this membrane, he could likely withstand a full-strength blow from a blood-energy awakened martial artist.

Zhao Mu had made it clear today: the first three tensions of Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions focused on resisting blunt force.

Yet even so, his skin had this effect?

If I master this technique, how powerful could it get? Xiangzi didn’t dare imagine.

No wonder Liu Tang, despite severe spear wounds, could muster the blood courage to slaughter the Li family guards.

With that thought, Xiangzi twisted the tub’s bronze knob. Steaming hot water flowed again from the brass pipes.

His gaze fell on the dark little pill nearby. Since I’m here, might as well use it all!

No way I’m spending silver for a second round.

Once the tub refilled, Xiangzi crushed the Skin-Grinding Pill between his fingers, letting the powder dissolve into the water.

—

At the back courtyard entrance, it was bustling.

Jiang Wangshui, now in clean clothes, felt refreshed, but the thought of the bath’s steep price made his heart ache.

The Jiang family had money, sure, but it was all in the hands of his living Yama of a sister.

Though she fully supported his martial training, sparing no expense, he’d already burned through half his allowance in just a few days as an apprentice. Forget his sister’s nagging—his outer disciple brother would never let him off.

At that thought, Jiang Wangshui’s face soured.

“What’s wrong, Young Master Jiang? Bath not to your liking?” Chubby Chen Jia squinted with a smile. “Thanks for treating me to the bath, or I wouldn’t be standing here. You’re too generous!”

Jiang Wangshui’s frustration vanished, and he puffed out his chest. “What’s the big deal? If Brother Chen likes it, let’s come back next week!”

Chen Jia’s smile widened, his small eyes narrowing to slits. “Then I’ll thank Young Master Jiang in advance! Meeting you here is truly my good fortune!”

But when he saw the towering figure emerging from the bath area, his eyes narrowed further.

Jiang Wangshui froze, then waved. “Brother Xiang! Over here!”

Xiangzi, heading to wash his clothes, paused at the call. Seeing the two, he chuckled inwardly—can’t escape these guys.

With no choice, he forced a smile and walked over.

But as he approached, Jiang Wangshui’s expression shifted. He stepped back, scrutinizing Xiangzi with a hint of suspicion. “Brother Xiang… am I seeing things? You look different.”

After a moment, he shouted, “Brother Xiang! Did you get paler? Does the Skin-Tempering Powder do that? If so, I gotta get some for my sister! If she’s happy, maybe she’ll give me more allowance!”

Chen Jia, joining in, studied Xiangzi closely, but his smile froze.

Paler? It seemed true.

Unlike the oblivious Jiang Wangshui, Chen Jia knew what “paler” meant—a sign of refining skin, transforming membrane!

He’d refined an entire Skin-Grinding Pill and hadn’t achieved this effect!

—