This is the main base.
Wen Yan was generous with his blessings—whoever was present received a share. The Grave Walker and Lin Jue also benefited daily.
Lin Jue didn’t feel too much, only that his stamina seed to be increasing, but the Grave Walker could truly feel it—every day he was blessed with yang energy far beyond his limits, unable to fully absorb it, his strength almost forcibly pushed forward.
And yet, the yang energy of Scorching Sun, its effect was directly related to Wen Yan’s thoughts; already enough to burn the Grave Walker to death more than a dozen tis, yet when blessed upon him, only positive effects could be felt.
The Grave Walker knew this wasn’t normal, but he asked nothing. Even though he was quite familiar with Lin Jue now, whenever Lin Jue was present, he barely spoke—afraid he’d say sothing extra by accident.
With nothing to do, he would open a portal at a desolate tomb, stand by the entrance, carefully sensing, continually training his perception, hoping through the open path he could pinpoint the uncertain coordinates on the other side.
The paper n, under the steward’s arrangents, started their training; everyone was putting in effort.
Especially the steward—after gaining this opportunity, sleeplessly, desperately guarding all he had. Wen Yan asked him to drill the paper n, and even with the paper n blessed by yang energy, he could train them to collapse, and nearly fainted himself from the intensity.
Wen Yan’s daily blessing of yang energy had increased to twice a day.
After a few days, each paper man in the manor, repeatedly overloaded with yang energy, had so much that it even overflowed. The accumulated quantity beca a qualitative change, and inside each paper man, it was as if a little fire seed lay quietly burning.
The steward’s visage had already beco lifelike, his eyes lively and luminous. At the position of his heart, a cluster of fla blazed, guiding the circulation of yang energy throughout his body.
On this day, Wen Yan saw that above the steward’s head, a line of words appeared.
"Steward of Zhu Mansion, a spirit and monster who diligently manages the manor."
This was true evolution—from a servant with only a hint of spirituality, roughly equivalent to a handicapped AI, he had evolved into the ranks of spirits and monsters. Reaching this step, he could be considered a true creature.
Now with a goal, Wen Yan followed the plan, proceeding daily without arrogance or impatience: exorcising Black Mountain Stone Sculptures, obtaining Mountain Essence, and using the thod of combining Mountain Essence into his yang energy blending with internal power.
Blessing yang energy to train Scorching Sun Fist, consuming Strengthening Bone Pills and Cold Ice Wine to refine Subduing Tiger First Form.
Subduing Tiger First Form was almost mastered, and as the description indicated, was excellent at strengthening tendons and bones.
As for Scorching Sun Fist’s second stage, its focus was always on strengthening the flesh and lightly strengthening yang energy; most of the yang energy was used to toughen the body, and paired with Tiger Subduing Three Styles, the efficiency was extrely high.
If not for losing seven days of progress earlier, Wen Yan estimated he would have nearly completed the second stage by now.
After so thought, he still decided to lay low and finish the second stage before proceeding.
Completing the second stage was actually when cultivation of the Martial Path was truly laying a solid foundation.
Normally, the first stage was all about tempering the body. This step started from childhood, building the base, and only at adolescence was the first stage truly begun.
Throughout adolescence, combined with fist training, the body could adapt to the practiced boxing technique, consolidated the foundation, and only then began the second stage: with a strong body, start nurturing yang energy.
The third stage was when the flesh and blood unleashed power, paired with stimulated yang energy, capable of erupting with extre force. Even if it wasn’t a Ghost, most fights would end in life or death at first eting.
It was in the fourth stage that blood, power, and yang energy could truly rge into one, twisted into a single strand, obeying at will. If you wanted to shatter all their bones without killing them, it was certainly doable.
Wen Yan had previously asked Qin Kun, wanting to genuinely learn Qin Kun’s killing blow. At the very least, he’d have to be fourth stage.
Learning it before that, you got only the form, not the essence; you couldn’t use it. At best, relying on power or yang energy to overwhelm soone—useful against Ghosts, but against other threats or people, not necessarily.
All these theories were, in fact, built up over the last two hundred years, experience accumulated bit by bit as various masters broke through previous limits.
Wen Yan never expected to master it so quickly, but when he exorcised the Black Mountain Stone Sculpture, he encountered his first boon from a lost soul—imdiately learning the thod of fusing power with yang energy. Moreover, it was an insight the other party had gained between life and death: natural and smooth.
This was why Wen Yan found the story of Sun Sanjiu so regrettable.
If he hadn’t died in battle, the thod of fusing power with yang energy might have appeared centuries earlier.
And if it’d appeared earlier, maybe the martial artist’s ceiling would’ve risen sooner, and their social standing would be higher too.
According to what he now knew, a few centuries ago, especially before Old Zhu slew the dragon, martial artists were considered crude fighters, beneath notice—at best gate guards or bandits; the more reputable joined the military.
Compared to Divine Skills and Daoist arts, martial training really was lacking, especially when the upper limit was so low.
But now, none of that was a problem; the path had been there for a hundred years, and with the living example of Tuoba Martial God, most martial artists were optimistic, knowing where the ceiling was. Even if reaching it was impossible, making an effort to get close below it was still worth a try.
Wen Yan, though, wasn’t so optimistic—he knew all too well the reality of Tuoba Martial God.
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