35: Chapter 32: Hong Sheng’s True Inheritance, Hundred Forms Refining Stance 35: Chapter 32: Hong Sheng’s True Inheritance, Hundred Forms Refining Stance What should we do when we hit a tough spot?
Naturally, we lie down and take a nap!
By the ti he had coated himself all over with Golden Ambrosia, Qin Shi was already gritting his teeth in pain.
After confirming he had endured to his limit, he silently activated Deep Sleep.
Under Old Liang’s incredulous gaze, he fell asleep again!
He didn’t know how much ti had passed, it seed like evening was falling, when the boy in deep slumber quietly woke up.
The young body, seemingly covered in a layer of gold foil, gently shifted, making a “crack” sound.
“It’s a good thing I’m his ntor, otherwise I’d be questioning the heavens about this unfairness!”
Old Liang watched with a complex expression.
This kid’s just closed his eyes and gone to sleep, sothing that left countless fine seedlings of the Old Martial Sect in tornt, haunted by the psychological shadow of “body on fire.”
And it just passed like that?
What a lack of justice!
Old Liang thought a mont and then laughed, suddenly relieved.
He still rembered when he was learning martial arts from his master, his grand-master, who was retired and living out his days, had his nose in the air, never satisfied with either his master or himself.
At the ti, he was puzzled; what kind of talent could et the grand-master’s approval?
Surely, he wouldn’t expect another Stone Buddha He Lanchan!
“Now I understand.
The grand-master wanted soone who was a naturally born talent, soone who could reach great heights and cast their shadow far and wide.”
Old Liang shook his head, secretly regretting that if he had been born twenty years earlier, he might have handed this over to the grand-master, and achieved greater heights.
Landing in the hands of this cripple, it was a real waste.
He had limited skills, couldn’t offer much help.
Crack, crack.
The thick, viscous paste, like gold foil, gradually peeled off, turning into fine powder.
Qin Shi, in a state between waking and sleeping, closed his eyes and entered a state of introspection:
“To think it actually burned out twelve major tendons, covering my whole body.”
In his vision, the blood-red tendons, like great snakes or fierce pythons, started from the ends of his limbs, gathering at the joints, and then extending toward the trunk and head.
Usually hidden beneath the body surface, making it hard to detect, they were now slowly gathering and erging under the persistent stimulation of the Golden Ambrosia.
“The red and white colors are brighter, and the baby-like tender qi sensitivity has beco robust, about two fingers wide.”
Qin Shi took a light breath and exhaled long, large masses of his muscle groups contracting and bulging like flowing water.
Especially the serratus anterior muscles on both sides of his ribs, like fish gills opening and closing, pulling at his waist and abdon, making the defined lines even clearer, exuding a beauty that combined softness and masculinity.
In this state, if he launched an attack, the damage caused would be no less than that of a heavyweight champion in his previous life.
You should understand, the whole person seed to be twisted into one rope, the force exerted was extrely terrifying, punching through steel plates was no problem, let alone human flesh and blood.
“The tendons burned out by the secret dicine of Golden Ambrosia are long and thick, tough and strong, not only enhancing strength but also tightening the connections of my limbs, giving the illusion that even if a knife tried to cut them, it might not be able to.”
Qin Shi maintained a cross-legged posture, the warm qi sensation flowing through his body, his breathing even more faint, almost nonexistent.
This mortal body, which was difficult to escape the limitations of life span and the decline of disease, was undergoing a transformation!
Those thick and tough blood-red tendons connected with each other, making it seem as though they wrapped around the body, rooted in bones and blood, akin to a great serpentine dragon, exuding a strong ferocity.
“This is what Old Liang called ‘Dragon Tendon,’ definitely intimidating.
If well-nourished, I wonder if it can activate a transformation, entering the second stage!”
Qin Shi dread of the mont when his life force surpassed a certain limit, transforming into a demonic muscle-bound man, condensing the formidable True Martial Soul!
Soon, the dried and condensed Golden Ambrosia dicine peeled off completely, revealing the slightly red skin of a young body.
“How do you feel?”
Old Liang couldn’t help but ask.
He himself only braved the fire-like tornt of Golden Ambrosia once and dared not attempt it again after that severe trial.
It took him two whole years to break through the Tendon Limit, never practicing to the point of “Dragon Nourishing Tendon.”
“My hands itch.”
Qin Shi opened his eyes and answered honestly.
At this mont, he felt like hitting sothing with a punch, to vent the abundant energy practically overflowing from him.
“Weren’t you working with Ah Yuan and Ah Cheng at North Gate Street?
There are a lot of underground fighting casinos there.”
Old Liang smiled.
Most mbers of the Old Martial Sect were battle maniacs, especially fond of duels, challenges, and bouts.
Like the first generation of the Ten Masters, known as King Qi, Qi Wuxiang, who at twenty had overturned all the Daoist schools in Hai Province, fortunate to be the direct descendant of the Qi Family, an exceptional background, otherwise, he’d have been taken down secretly long ago.
Later, he even went to Jing Province, known for its strong martial atmosphere, creating chaos and even fought the youth prodigy Lian Yixing.
“Master Liang, have you been to North Gate Street?”
Qin Shi was a bit surprised.
“I told you, I didn’t have the head for studies.
As a poor student who couldn’t get into schools, what else could I do but mix in the streets, picking fights?”
Old Liang didn’t hide the fact that he used to be a delinquent:
“Old Factory Street’s gambling dens were once as common as cow’s hair, before the layoffs, cockfighting, dogfighting, pigeon racing everywhere.
Later, the martial artist craze swept Dongxia, various fighting tournants mushrooming everywhere, all eager to buy tickets and bet for wealth.
When I was young and road society, I knew a few in-ring big brothers, but they’re all gone now.”
Qin Shi was slightly startled, carefully scrutinizing the plain-looking Old Liang.
Couldn’t tell, his master was quite a figura?
Wouldn’t it be sothing if he could call forth a bunch of steel-pipe and machete-wielding brothers from North Gate Street with a shout?
“True underground fighters with real skills are rare, anyone with decent lineage won’t stay cooped up there.
They rely mainly on trickery, dirty moves, and drugging before fights is routine.
Old Liang recounted the past:
“I hung around quite a few underground fight rings, found it boring after a year or two, bought a boat ticket to Jing Province, and, by chance, found a master and learned martial arts.”
Qin Shi shook his head:
“I’m a student, how can I go to such places.
If my big sister finds out, she’ll definitely get angry.”
Indeed, after breaking through the Tendon Limit, finding a sparring partner wasn’t easy.
Cultivation Halls in the Urban Circle had dedicated sparring partners, charging hundreds per hour, a luxury he couldn’t afford!
And the Old Factory Street could only find reasonable opportunities for fighting in underground rings.
Otherwise, causing trouble would likely end with a pair of shiny handcuffs.
However, Qin Shi didn’t intend to go that route.
He could rely on Combat Retrospect to repeatedly grind his techniques, without putting himself in such situations, becoming a betting object for a bunch of gamblers.
“Not bad, for a young man full of vigor, gaining so skills and keeping his hands in check, it’s quite a feat.”
Old Liang nodded approvingly:
“I’ve taught many students, and so couldn’t hold back their fiery impulses less than a month into learning techniques, resorting to fists and kicks for everything, only to hit a wall and take a fall.
Those who swim well drown in water; the Old Martial Sect not only values talent but also disposition.
The more restless and impetuous, the less likely they’re favored.”
ntioning North Gate Street, Qin Shi suddenly rembered Cheng Ze.
He seed to be particularly caring towards students from Sons and Daughters Ninth Middle School?
Even asked if Old Liang would take him as a disciple.
“Master Liang, have you heard of Cheng Ze from North Gate Street?”
“Yes, he was in my first batch of students.”
Old Liang lifted an eyelid, casually:
“Before I t you, he was the most talented kid I’d seen from Sons and Daughters Ninth Middle School.
But like , he’s too indecisive, easily tripped up, not suited for the Old Martial path.
In recent years, his na in Old Factory Street has grown, heard a few things while drinking with friends.”
So, there was so relationship after all.
Qin Shi realized, no wonder Cheng Ze treated him kindly, considering him a “junior brother.”
“I see Cheng Ze’s days are not much better.”
He recalled his encounters in Midnight Imperial Palace.
“Out in the world, being a dog gets you bones to chew, wanting to be human, you’ll starve.”
Old Liang remained indifferent, calm as water:
“Ruffians of Old Factory Street easily number a thousand or eight hundred, all the sa.
He’s doing alright, at least he’s beco a big brother, followed by a crowd of little brothers wherever he goes, quite impressive.”
Qin Shi tactfully fell silent, clearly, there was an unpleasant past between Old Liang and Cheng Ze.
“Master Liang, we have a well-known signboard in Hong Sheng, apart from training thods and techniques, are there any powerful secret moves?”
He changed the topic to lighten the mood.
“Of course.
What you are learning now are just the basics.
When facing true experts, ordinary moves are full of flaws, ineffective.”
Old Liang raised his head, smiling slightly:
“Hong Sheng’s true inheritance of combat skills, even among the thousand Daoist schools and martial halls in Jing Province, are among the best.”
Qin Shi rarely saw Old Liang in such high spirits; his master usually exuded a “disheartened” aura, like a mid-life corporate drone who lost his job and whose wife was filing for divorce.
He seized the opportunity to flatter:
“Master Liang, tell more.”
Old Liang ground his teeth, his plain, rugged face lighting up with a striking brilliance:
“Hong Sheng’s true inheritance, the Hundred Aspects Refining Stance, you know?
He Lanchan, one of the Ten Masters, learned this very skill!”
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