The wager between the two courtyard masters sparked excitement, with all eyes fixed on the burly figure in the arena. Even the courtyard masters sat upright—though hall rules required witnesses for an apprentice’s ninth-grade trial, having all five courtyard masters present was a rarity.

The reason? The Five Ores Powder.

The last disciple rumored to have endured such a perilous mineral medicine was the Wan family heir now seated on the platform. Hearsay was one thing—the Wan family, rooted in the embassy district, had secret body-refining methods unknown even to the Hundred Herbs Courtyard master. But this burly youth was living proof. Many had seen him withstand the Five Ores Powder last night—a nobody with no backing. A rare talent who could endure such medicine, if he achieved ninth grade, his future was boundless.

By Baolin Martial Hall rules, ninth-grade achievers served a year or two of external duties before returning to choose a courtyard. Which master wouldn’t want a young genius under their wing?

—

Under the crowd’s gaze, the Hundred Herbs disciple raised the injector and pierced Xiangzi’s skin. A glint of surprise flashed in the seasoned disciple’s eyes—such resilient skin. The incomplete Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions taught to apprentices, covering only hands, feet, and waist, should only withstand blunt force.

With a surge of energy, the disciple pressed the brass plunger, injecting the swirling, five-colored liquid.

“Junior Brother, guard your spirit. The Bone-Strengthening Broth tempers skin first, then bones. Be cautious!” The disciple wheeled the vine table away, leaving Xiangzi alone in the arena.

—

Several inner disciples rose, standing guard around the Martial Performance Hall like sentinels. Outside, Hundred Herbs disciples had a stretcher ready.

The courtyard masters were here to witness and recruit, but the inner disciples, led by Wan Yuxuan, were guarding against “medicinal miasma.” The ninth-grade life-or-death trial was no simple matter. A burst skin was manageable, but the real danger was enduring the skin and bone tempering only to lose one’s spirit to the medicine’s onslaught—a “medicinal barrier.” A spiritless ninth-grade martial artist, fearless of death, was a problem even for Baolin Martial Hall.

Old martial tales spoke of the mythical “perception barrier,” now faded under the power of tonics and pills. Yet the intangible “spirit” grew more credible before the three Bright Force barriers. Baolin’s old hall master’s talk of “breath courage, blood courage, bone courage” was deeply ingrained in Forty-Nine City. Surely enduring medicinal power wasn’t just up to fate?

—

Xiangzi’s expression was grave, his stance unwavering. The Marrow-Washing Pill’s intensity had rattled him, and hearing the Bone-Strengthening Broth was stronger, he was doubly cautious. The aluminum case and brass injector only added to the eerie strangeness.

One incense stick passed. Two. Xiangzi cycled through his stance, completing sets of Iron Shirt Thirteen Tensions and Dragon Bone Tiger Tendon Art.

No reaction? His dantian’s blood energy felt unchanged, his skin and bones unperturbed. Compared to last night’s Marrow-Washing Pill, this was underwhelming.

Perplexed, he opened his consciousness.

[Profession: Martial Artist (Inactive)]

[Activation Conditions: 1. Break the Blood Energy Barrier; 2. Bone-Strengthening Broth]

“Break the Blood Energy Barrier” glowed green, while “Bone-Strengthening Broth” was gray, with a faint green progress bar emerging.

This interface even has a progress bar? His heart settled. The panel showed the refining was underway—it couldn’t be wrong. He kept his stance steady.

An hour passed. The courtyard masters on the platform gaped. What’s this? No visible signs? Was this kid really refining the medicine? His calm demeanor stunned even these high-ranking martial experts.

Unheard of!

—

Suddenly, a sound only Xiangzi could faintly hear arose. His dantian’s blood energy, once a jade-like pillar, exploded. A torrent of wild energy surged like crashing waves, flooding his skin and bones.

His skin writhed at a terrifying pace, turning an eerie red. Fine, needle-like pricks gave way to a warm, itchy sensation. Old scars faded, his loose skin tightened like a drum, glowing like polished jade. As his pores opened and closed, he sensed the courtyard’s airflow, as if a thin, invisible membrane had formed.

The bone transformation hit hardest. His spine snapped with a click, like a rusted lock forced open. Shoulders, elbows, and hips crackled like popping beans. Xiangzi stretched, his legs light as if weightless. Each step landed with a thud, his bones trembling with stored power, every muscle and bone taut like a steel bow.

Yet he felt no “medicinal torment.” His blood energy surged like a tide, exhilarating and effortless. How to describe it? Reborn anew.

He sensed every inch of his skin and bones. His already sharp eyes grew keener, every detail vivid. With a boom, his blood energy receded like a tide, returning to calm.

In his dantian, a crystal-clear red bead hovered, radiant as a gem. Golden veins faintly traced its surface, with tiny air currents swirling within.

Xiangzi froze. Others have pillar-shaped blood energy—why’s mine a bead? And those golden veins? He guessed it tied to the tiger demon’s blood marrow he’d consumed.

Each heartbeat resonated with the bead, sending scalding currents through his body. At least double the blood energy strength! Even a peak ninth-grade martial artist couldn’t match this odd, overpowering vigor.

With a thought, the bead dimmed, his blood energy vanishing. Another thought, and it surged back, perfectly controlled.

Xiangzi’s heart leapt. This blood energy bead has such an effect?