Chapter Forty-Five: Strength, Gentleness, and Transformation

With the preparation of the Reed Ginseng Paste completed, Chen Yu did not immediately plunge into rigorous martial training. Even though, after testing the ointment, he found its effects were exactly as expected—nourishing and strengthening the liver—he merely increased the daily repetitions of the Spirit-Summoning Body Strengthening Technique by a modest amount.

Now, with a gradually invigorated liver, he could easily manage thirty-six repetitions—no small feat.

Thirty-six may seem unremarkable, but considering each repetition yields a gain of thirteen percent, the cumulative benefit is astonishing. Compared to the previous months, when two daily cycles of the Crane Technique pushed his body to its limits, this was several times more effective.

To be precise, it was 4.68 times greater—one day equaled five days’ progress! And this was solely the improvement brought by Spirit-Summoning; if the Body Strengthening’s gains were counted as well… In any case, Chen Yu felt that even with his current regimen, including a nightly session of the Crane Technique, the originally anticipated three months for minor achievement now seemed sluggish. He had underestimated the explosive synergy between the Spirit-Summoning Body Strengthening Technique and the spiritual elixir.

With that in mind, he set a small goal: when the peach blossoms bloom before the temple, he would transform brute strength into supple force—to master the art of yielding strength with softness, marking the first milestone in his training.

Speaking of force, it is easy to recall the legends from his previous life—the transformation of overt and covert force, the ability to receive, transform, and release. After months of martial practice, Chen Yu realized that true martial arts did indeed distinguish between overt and covert force, and above them existed the authentic Primordial Force.

But reality is never so accommodating. Once the mystique is stripped away, overt and covert are merely different methods of exertion, neither superior nor inferior.

Through the old Daoist’s scattered words and the Crane Technique’s records, it was clear: martial force comprised three realms—brute, supple, and transformative.

Supple force, in this world’s Daoist sects, was also called Inch Force, Cloud-Piercing Strength, or Resonant Force.

What is Inch Force? All power is concentrated within an inch, released with perfect control—through palm, finger, leg, or even a fluttering sleeve or a dried branch.

A flower, a flying leaf—both could be deadly weapons.

At this stage, one could truly hold their own in the martial world. The last time he descended the mountain, he encountered Qian Xuanzhong and the bandit leader Liu Bao—both stuck at this threshold. The latter, especially, was powerful but lacked finesse—half a step away from crossing over, after which boundless opportunities awaited.

Yet he met his end far from home, a fate that evokes sighs.

Above supple force lies transformative force. It embodies the meeting of dragon and tiger, harnessing power throughout the body’s meridians, hence also called Dragon-Tiger Gate or Meridian Force.

In short, the mastery of these three forces is described by many names. Chen Yu was still climbing the ladder of brute force, far from the convergence of dragon and tiger.

Of course, at his current pace, mastering these three forces was inevitable—perhaps in seven or eight years, maybe three to five. Or who knows, luck might bring a miraculous breakthrough, propelling him straight to mastery.

Instant ascension was difficult, but becoming a grandmaster was within reach.

It all depended on what he could cultivate in the future!

“Jinyang rice, Autumn Knife wheat, Changbai millet, and the Spring Sorghum ready for planting.”

He opened the cloth bag in his hand, pouring some of the seeds into his palm. Chen Yu examined them, then took three wooden boards layered with fine soil and set them before him, sprinkling the seeds onto each.

Considering the limited spiritual energy and wanting to compare the effects of spiritual energy and spiritual elixir, he designated one board to receive the elixir—assuming it could indeed act as a catalyst. Another board was infused with spiritual energy, while the last served as a control, receiving nothing.

He divided each board into four sections, planting one crop per section.

Surveying the full array of his preparations, Chen Yu felt little excitement, for he knew that except for Spring Sorghum, the others were out of season—growing them to maturity was questionable; even sprouting might be doubtful.

Once finished, Chen Yu moved on, cleaning the mushrooms he had gathered, tearing them into strips and placing them in a bamboo sieve.

Not all mushrooms were suited for drying; some tasted best fresh, so he selected only a portion for drying, leaving the rest in a basket for the evening’s meal.

Plenty of coarse salt remained in the temple, since he was the sole occupant and used little. He sprinkled some onto the mushroom strips, kneading them for flavor—normally, this step required pickling, but the temple’s only jar was already occupied, so he improvised.

After a busy half-day, the mushrooms were ready.

Too lazy to string them up with fine thread, he simply spread them out under the sun to dry.

Morning came swiftly.

Yesterday’s sunlight had been radiant, and the night brought no dew. Rising early, Chen Yu saw the mushrooms dried and shriveled in the courtyard, their plumpness gone.

“Another two days of sun, and the dehydration should be complete.”

He judged that once dried, the mushrooms needed to be packed in bags, sealed tightly, and stored in cool, damp places to prevent mold.

After splashing his face with cold water to wake up, Chen Yu began his daily exercises as usual. The Reed Ginseng Paste he prepared yesterday worked wonders—he awoke with his liver fully restored, free from its old ache.

Bathed in the brilliant sunrise, he completed all his training in one go.

Thirty-six cycles of the Spirit-Summoning Body Strengthening Technique circulated his blood and energy—though he couldn’t see inside, he could feel his constitution improving. His skin grew tough, his flesh steadily stronger.

Finishing his exercises and washing up, he took advantage of breakfast to check on the rooster confined in the woodshed.

The rooster was full of vigor, as enthusiastic toward Chen Yu as ever, flapping its wings and pecking wildly.

It was promptly caught.

Holding its wings, Chen Yu’s face showed contemplation. Since nothing was wrong, he could proceed to the next experiment.

He took a budding sprout from the cabbage, sliced it in half, and, as he had done days earlier, forcibly pried open the rooster’s beak. The familiar, practiced movement rendered even the brash bird silent for a moment, though soon it resisted fiercely.

Smack! A firm slap calmed the rooster, making its fiery red comb swell with indignation.

“Behave yourself.”

In the end, the half sprout was fed to the bird.

Whether for better or worse, he would wait to see the results manifest in the rooster.

Leaving the rooster, whose feathers shone ever brighter, Chen Yu closed the door and headed for the backyard.

If memory served, these days should mark the ripening of the Orchid Court fruit.

He skirted red walls and tiles, and upon reaching the plot, sure enough—