The words rang out, and the crowd fell into stunned silence.

Bone-Strengthening Broth?

To qualify for the ninth-grade life-and-death trial after just one month in the first-class apprentice courtyard?

Such speed… In recent years, perhaps only Senior Brother Wan, now a standout in the inner sect, had achieved such a feat.

In just this one month, Xiangzi had brought too many surprises and shocks. Setting aside his blood energy, which far surpassed the norm, how could an ordinary martial artist, after only a month of practicing the Dragon Bone Tiger Tendon Art, touch the threshold of Bright Force with “energy piercing the spine, strength reaching the extremities”? And now, he was the first to earn the chance to challenge the Bone-Strengthening Broth?

At this point, even the proudest first-class apprentices could hardly muster any jealousy. Many young faces broke into perfectly timed smiles, crowding around Xiangzi under the guise of camaraderie, offering endless congratulations.

Outside the throng, the chubby Chen Jiashang’s eyes flickered with deep resentment and frustration. Amid the chorus of praise, Xiangzi stood as if bathed in a spring breeze, clasping his hands to return each greeting.

Yet, for some reason, when he caught the playful smirk on Master Liu’s face, a faint unease stirred in his heart.

Challenging the Bone-Strengthening Broth after just one month?

This pace was far faster than he’d anticipated. But what exactly were the rules of this trial? What preparations were needed? Xiangzi hadn’t the slightest clue.

—

“Senior Brother, letting that big lad attempt the Bone-Strengthening Broth after just one month—doesn’t that seem unwise?”

“His progress is fast, but his skin, muscles, and bones have only been tempered for a little over a month. If he can’t withstand the medicinal power, won’t all his prior efforts be wasted?”

In the room, Zhao Mu’s face was cold, his words laced with unmasked doubt.

Old Liu, lounging lazily in a rosewood chair, didn’t take offense. He drawled, “Zhao Mu, you’ve seen the lad’s records—how old is he this year?”

“Eighteen!” Zhao Mu answered reflexively, then froze as realization hit. He lowered his head, the defiance in his expression fading completely.

Old Liu chuckled. “The world says the three realms of Bright Force come with three barriers: the Blood Energy Barrier at twenty, the ninth-grade barrier at twenty-five, and the Membrane Condensation Barrier at forty.”

“Delay even a single day, and breaking through becomes that much harder. This lad’s talent is remarkable, but he’s already eighteen. If he waits another half-year, his skin, muscles, and bones might grow stronger, but who can guarantee he won’t suffer a backlash from the medicinal power’s effect on his spirit?”

“We martial artists live with our heads tied to our belts, fighting against the heavens,” Old Liu said, a trace of sorrow clouding his murky eyes. “But the heavens set these unreasonable life-and-death barriers. Who can we argue with about that?”

Zhao Mu let out a soft sigh. The three great barriers of Bright Force spared no martial artist in this world. It was as if the heavens drove martial artists forward with a whip. Fail to break through at the right age, and you’d be stuck in place for life.

The old martial instructor before him was proof. Despite comprehending Bright Force early, he’d failed to pass the Membrane Condensation Barrier at forty, forever halted at the seventh grade.

As Senior Brother Liu said, the heavens have set it so—who can we reason with?

—

Under the dim night sky, a fire flickered.

Outside the apprentice courtyard’s kitchen, a polished purple-copper pot sat over a small charcoal brazier. The pot’s surface gleamed, its rounded rim catching the warm glow of the fire. The fruitwood charcoal burned red-hot, occasionally crackling with sparks that danced in the light.

With a quick dip, a translucent slice of meat was swished through the boiling water, releasing a savory aroma steeped in brine.

A month ago, Xu Xiaoliu had rallied everyone for a hotpot feast of “demon beast offal.” Now, after Xiangzi’s month-long seclusion in the first-class courtyard, the old friends finally gathered again.

Jiang Wangshui popped a slice into his mouth, his brows lifting. “Well, damn, Xiaoliu, this is some fine cooking! If you ever tire of being an apprentice, open a hotpot shop at Qianmen—it’d be a hell of a business!”

Xu Xiaoliu’s grin stretched wide as he set a sesame sauce dipping dish before them, chuckling. “You bet! Xiangzi’s back today, so it’s a rare chance for us to get together. Gotta eat something good.”

Xiangzi followed Jiang Wangshui’s lead, scalding a slice of meat and popping it into his mouth without dipping sauce. The tender meat carried a faint sweetness from well water, free of any gaminess.

“Xiangzi, this is fresh offal from this morning, brined for half a day. How’s the taste?” Xu Xiaoliu asked.

Xiangzi nodded with a smile, urging everyone to dig in. Only then did Xu Xiaoliu and Lu Qi pick up their chopsticks.

Jiang Wangshui paused, staring at his chopsticks, a mix of emotions swirling in his heart. Just over a month ago, this big guy was a “second-rate” nobody in the blood energy test. Now, he was soaring like a rocket.

Forget him and Xu Xiaoliu, mere second-class apprentices—word had spread through the entire apprentice courtyard that a prodigy had emerged in the first-class courtyard. Even Master Liu had personally promised that Xiangzi would soon challenge the Bone-Strengthening Broth. For a commoner to outshine the scions of great families, earning this honor and receiving a priceless Marrow-Washing Pill from Master Liu himself—it was a feat that drew every eye in the courtyard.

“Xiangzi,” Jiang Wangshui said, setting down his chopsticks, his tone earnest. “You’re about to challenge the Bone-Strengthening Broth in a few days. The ninth-grade opportunity is no small matter. If you need any tonics, don’t treat me like an outsider—just say the word.”

Warmth rose in Xiangzi’s heart, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m prepared. Besides, Master Liu said that before the Bone-Strengthening Broth trial, no other medicines can be used except the Marrow-Washing Pill. It’s the rule.”

Jiang Wangshui froze, then nodded, a pang of realization hitting him—he truly lacked the means to help Xiangzi right now. His heart swirled with mixed feelings: genuine joy for his friend, tinged with a faint, wistful sense of loss.

—

Xiangzi picked up his chopsticks, his demeanor calm. The past month’s apprentice trials had been grueling, but compared to his days at Harmony Rickshaw Yard, this was paradise. No need to live in constant fear or walk on eggshells—just pure, focused cultivation.

Truth be told, he rather liked these simple days.

Clipping another slice of meat, Xiangzi’s gaze swept over Jiang Wangshui and Xu Xiaoliu’s gray robes, each embroidered with two small knives—a sign they’d successfully entered the second-class courtyard.

“How’s everyone been lately?” Xiangzi asked with a smile.

Xu Xiaoliu’s face lit up, the newfound confidence of a second-class apprentice banishing his old timidity. He launched into a lively recounting: two weeks after Xiangzi entered the first-class courtyard, he and Jiang Wangshui had scored top marks in the blood energy test, earning their place in the second-class courtyard.