Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, Xiangzi stepped out of the first-class courtyard.

Jiang Wangshui and Xu Xiaoliu were waiting at the gate, forcing smiles onto their faces. Truth be told, their hearts were uneasy. Entering Baolin Martial Hall was all about seizing that slim chance at the ninth grade, but they knew the Bone-Strengthening Broth’s dangers were no mere rumor.

Half of them were thrilled for Xiangzi, the other half weighed down by worry.

Xiangzi, however, acted as if nothing was amiss, waving casually at them.

“Brother Xiang, heading to the medicinal bath area?” Jiang Wangshui asked.

When Xiangzi nodded, Xu Xiaoliu paused, then said earnestly, “Little Qi’s on duty today. I’ll have him set you up with a quiet room. Me and Young Master Jiang will wait outside to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

The usually carefree, dark-faced youth was rarely so cautious. Warmth surged in Xiangzi’s heart, but he didn’t know what to say. How could he admit he was some kind of “pill-devouring prodigy”? Aside from a bit of discomfort from swallowing a tiger demon’s blood marrow, he’d never felt what it was like to “fail to withstand medicinal power.”

Seeing Jiang Wangshui and Xu Xiaoliu still chattering with serious faces, Xiangzi could only offer a helpless smile.

At the back courtyard, many who spotted Xiangzi whispered and pointed. Those who knew him approached with smiles to exchange pleasantries. Xiangzi kept a grin plastered on his face, but inwardly, he was weary of the attention. Seems the whole apprentice courtyard knows I’m trying the Bone-Strengthening Broth tomorrow. He’d always preferred staying in the shadows, and being the center of attention felt deeply uncomfortable.

When they reached the medicinal bath area, Xiangzi froze—Zhao Mu, the cold-faced instructor, was standing at the entrance.

“Stop dawdling, move it,” Zhao Mu said, turning with a curt remark. “The Marrow-Washing Pill’s power is intense. Master Liu sent me to guard you.”

The passing apprentices gaped at the scene. Who in the apprentice courtyard has ever gotten this treatment?

Xiangzi gave a wry smile and followed him inside.

Jiang Wangshui and Xu Xiaoliu, however, were stopped by a miscellaneous courtyard senior. The dark-faced youth shouted anxiously, “Little Qi! Keep an eye out, and if anything happens, come get us quick!”

Lu Qi, lugging a large medicinal barrel, froze at his friend’s words. He turned, forcing a smile that looked more pained than a sob.

With his paper-pale face and unsteady steps, Lu Qi followed Xiangzi into the bath area.

—

The miscellaneous courtyard seniors, forewarned, had cleared a space and assigned several errand boys to trail Xiangzi. The fuss made him nervous.

Noticing his unease, Zhao Mu said softly, “The Marrow-Washing Pill’s power is ferocious—it can boost blood energy and harden skin, muscles, and bones in a short time, but the process is complex. No step can be overlooked. A single misstep, and the overpowering medicine could damage your skin or bones, ruining your chances with the Bone-Strengthening Broth.”

Xiangzi nodded, understanding at last. No wonder the caution—it’s like a stimulant.

With a quiet chuckle, he entered the bath chamber.

“I’ll be at the door. Call if anything’s wrong,” Zhao Mu said, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, standing watch. His calm facade belied his ninth-grade peak Membrane Condensation Realm senses, attuned to every sound in the room.

—

Inside, amidst swirling steam, a miscellaneous courtyard senior directed several errand boys in a flurry of activity. Bamboo racks held neatly arranged medicinal powders—each temperature requiring a specific blend. Refining the Marrow-Washing Pill’s potent power demanded precision.

Xiangzi stood silently, noting the envy in the errand boys’ eyes. Once, they too had been ambitious apprentices, dreaming of the ninth-grade opportunity. Now, they served humbly, attending to martial artists like him. The job, though lowly, paid fifteen silver dollars a month—a tidy sum. Well-performing errand boys might even earn decent techniques from the miscellaneous courtyard. But such roles were reserved for those who scored all second-class marks in the apprentice trials.

Suddenly, a small figure carrying a medicinal basin slipped, nearly spilling its contents.

Xiangzi’s reflexes kicked in, steadying the boy. “Little Qi, you alright?”

Lu Qi’s face was ghostly white, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He shook his head. “Fine… fine. Maybe didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Lu Qi, you clumsy oaf! Spill that basin, and even flaying you wouldn’t cover the cost!” a miscellaneous courtyard senior barked, hands on hips.

Lu Qi’s pale face twitched as he nodded, his fingers whitening around the basin.

—

“It’s fine, I’ve got it,” Xiangzi said, taking the basin and pouring the medicine into the bath, then handing the empty container back.

Lu Qi took it reflexively, staring at Xiangzi’s dark face, his heart trembling. His palm gripped a small medicinal pouch tightly. By rights, he should’ve slipped it into the basin already. But his hand shook uncontrollably—he didn’t know what was in the pouch, only that it would spell trouble for Xiangzi.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Yet that beguiling voice from last night echoed in his ears: Just drop it in, and you’ll get one hundred twenty silver dollars!

Lu Qi’s expression wavered. He knew that letting go would clear his family’s “Yama Debt” and free him from Chen Jiang’s clutches. His heart burned as he drifted toward the bath, almost possessed.

Suddenly, Chen Jiang’s greasy, sneering face flashed before him. Startled, Lu Qi’s hand jerked, and the basin clanged against the tub’s edge.

“Useless fool! Can’t even handle this!” The senior’s face darkened, kicking Lu Qi’s waist.

The kick wasn’t heavy—Lu Qi’s blood energy could’ve withstood it—but for some reason, he crumpled to the ground. The basin clattered loudly.

Xiangzi frowned, helping Lu Qi up without a word. As a mere apprentice, he couldn’t challenge a miscellaneous courtyard senior. These older men, who’d failed the three Bright Force barriers, were likely no weaker than young outer disciples. Stepping in now might spare Lu Qi today but earn him endless trouble later.

“This is a candidate for the ninth grade! One mistake, and I’ll boot you from the miscellaneous courtyard!” the senior continued to berate.

The words were like hot oil poured into Lu Qi’s heart, igniting a buried spark.

Ninth grade?

His family had bankrupted themselves to get him here, all for that slim ninth-grade chance. Why should I endure this humiliation? Why do others get to chase the ninth grade while I, Lu Qi, grovel like a dog?

He threw off Xiangzi’s hand, his bloodshot eyes blazing. “Hah! I don’t need your pity! Ninth grade? What’s it worth?”

Pointing at the senior, he shouted, “You old bastard, lording your strength over me, stealing half my monthly pay!”

A fire roared in his chest. The normally meek Lu Qi, who wouldn’t make a peep under a beating, seemed possessed. He charged, ramming his head into the senior, toppling him.

A flash of dark iron gleamed—Lu Qi gripped a medicinal pestle, raising it to smash the senior’s head. His face flushed crimson, veins bulging, eyes wild with madness.

Without hesitation, the pestle swung down.

—

Thud. A large hand seized the handle.

Xiangzi twisted his wrist, wresting the pestle away. “You’re stopping me, Brother Xiang? You’re stopping me?” Lu Qi’s eyes were wild, hair disheveled, voice shrill with hysteria. “I misjudged you! You’re just like them, bullying me!”

Hearing the commotion, Zhao Mu burst in. With a flick of his wrist, he pinned Lu Qi to the ground with one hand.

Even restrained, Lu Qi thrashed like a rabid dog, neck straining, growling, “Die! Everyone who’s bullied me… must die!”

Blood and spittle dripped from his mouth, unnoticed in his frenzy.

Xiangzi froze, then sighed softly. Lu Qi… he’s gone mad.