Training from morning till noon had become Feiyin’s new reality. Every day was a structured cycle—the morning for external refinement, forging his body through rigorous postures, and the evening for internal cultivation, focusing on controlled breathing and nutrition to nourish his organs. This method was demanding but efficient, ensuring that his body was tempered without breaking, strengthened without overexertion.
Some days began with Python Postures, training his muscles and tendons, pushing their endurance and explosive strength. Then, after lunch, the focus would be on Tree Breathing, a technique designed to stimulate the spleen and stabilize the body''s core balance.
The pattern was unchanging yet diverse, covering all five essential phases of Body Tempering. Crocodile Postures reinforced the skin, making it tougher and more resilient, combined with Earth Breathing, which stabilized his body like the unshakable ground. Tiger Postures were designed to harden the bones, paired with Metal Breathing, strengthening his skeletal structure. Dragon Whale Postures refined the marrow, working in tandem with Water Breathing, enhancing recovery and endurance. Finally, Hummingbird Postures focused on blood circulation, while Fire Breathing stimulated his heart, improving Qi adaptability and stamina.
Each breathing technique was more than just inhaling and exhaling—they were precise, deliberate patterns designed to stimulate specific organs and enhance their efficiency. They required deep concentration, and through them, Feiyin could feel the oscillations of his body, sensing the shifts in circulation, the subtle pulse of energy within him.
His meals were just as important as the training itself. Every day, his mother prepared special soups infused with medicinal herbs and nourishing ingredients, each carefully selected to aid in recovery and amplify the effects of training. Ginseng to invigorate blood, lotus root to reinforce the spleen, black bone chicken for marrow enhancement. Without proper nourishment, even the strongest cultivator would eventually collapse.
For five days a week, his schedule was relentless, a cycle of breaking and reforging, exhausting and recovering. The remaining two days were reserved for rest and leisure—time he spent playing, accompanying his mother to trade with merchants, or refining his skills on the zither.
Many might have found such a lifestyle monotonous, but for Feiyin, every day was a new lesson, every challenge an opportunity. His curiosity had always been boundless, and rather than tiring from the repetition, he found himself drawn deeper into the endless pursuit of mastery.
Even in a small village, he had seen enough to understand that strength was not just a luxury—it was a necessity.
He could still recall the first time he had witnessed blood spilled in the streets.
It had been a typical day at the market, the air filled with the scent of spices, roasted meats, and freshly baked bread. Feiyin followed closely behind his mother, his eyes darting over the colorful stalls as they wove through the bustling crowd. Mei Liao was a natural at handling trade, her keen eyes catching opportunities others might overlook.
“Cultivation is costly, my dear,” she had explained to him as they moved through the market. “Even at your stage, the daily cost of proper nutrition alone is around a hundred Essence Coins.”
Feiyin nearly tripped over his own feet. “A hundred Essence Coins? Didn’t you say a normal family could live for a month on that?”
His mother chuckled, adjusting the small ledger in her hands. “That’s right. And when you reach higher realms of cultivation, you might need ten thousand Essence Coins per day.”
His shock only grew. “How does anyone afford that?”
Mei Liao smiled knowingly. “What seems expensive to one person might be nothing to another. That’s why, if you want to cultivate freely, you must learn to sustain yourself. Do you remember what I taught you?”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Feiyin straightened his posture. “Find something in high demand, purchase a few at a lower price to test the market, and then steadily sell more as you gain income.”
“Good. What else?”
“If the market is volatile or restricted, you either find a different trade or grow strong enough to negotiate your way through.”
Her smile widened. “Correct. Now, tell me, what product do you think would—”
She suddenly stopped speaking, her gaze locking onto a scene unfolding a short distance ahead.
A group of rough-looking men had gathered around an old merchant’s stall, their postures predatory. The stall owner, an elderly villager selling fur-lined socks, was visibly nervous as he faced them.
“Hey, old man!” one of the men sneered. “I wore your socks while hunting last night, and my toes nearly froze off! You trying to cheat me?”
The old merchant shook his head frantically. “That’s impossible! I use only fine rabbit fur—they should be warm enough for winter hunting.”
The thug slammed his palm against the stall. “So you’re saying I’m a liar?”
Feiyin felt his stomach twist as he saw the oscillations in the air shift—subtle vibrations of rising aggression, the tension in the men''s bodies as they prepared for violence.
With a metallic clang, the men drew their blades, their intent unmistakable.
“Mom…” Feiyin whispered, gripping her sleeve.
Mei Liao remained calm, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “This is why your father trains the militia,” she murmured.
Before Feiyin could respond, a shadow flickered behind the thugs. A gust of wind swept through the market, and in the blink of an eye, the men’s arms—still clutching their blades—were severed from their bodies.
A chorus of agonized screams filled the air as the attackers collapsed, their blood pooling on the cobbled ground.
Standing behind them was a broad-shouldered man with a brown beard, his expression cold, his blade still dripping with fresh blood.
“You lot have been stirring trouble in this region for too long,” he said. “Stealing, killing, preying on villages with no protection. Your heads are worth a decent bounty—dead or alive.” He narrowed his eyes. “But if you choose to resist, I can take just your heads.”
The gang leader, his face pale from blood loss, shook his head frantically, stumbling to his feet with the others. “N-No! We’ll come quietly!”
The enforcer nodded, sheathing his blade. “Good.”
As they were led away, Feiyin couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood-stained ground.
“There’s so much blood…” he murmured.
Mei Liao gently took his hand, leading him toward a different street. “Do not dwell on it, my dear. Justice is not always gentle, but it prevents greater suffering. If they had been allowed to continue, how many more lives would they have taken?”
Feiyin swallowed, nodding absently, though the sight lingered in his mind long after they returned home.
As he set the dinner table later that evening, the memory resurfaced, sending an involuntary shiver through him.
What if those men had been stronger? What if they had attacked Mother?
Shaking his head, Feiyin placed the last bowl down just as his mother finished cooking. He noticed the slight furrow in her brow as she stirred the pot.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked.
Mei Liao looked up, her expression softening. “Nothing serious. I was just thinking… There aren’t many children your age in the village. You have no one to play with.”
Feiyin grinned. “That’s okay! You’re already my best friend!”
Cai Feng, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what about me?”
Feiyin turned to him, grinning mischievously. “Dad, you’re different. You’re my rival.”
Cai Feng scoffed, crossing his arms. “Hmph. You’re still far from that, brat.”
Feiyin laughed, feeling the warmth of their home settle around him.
Yes, the world was dangerous. Yes, strength was necessary.
But he wasn’t alone.
He had his family, his training, and a future he would carve with his own hands.