Wen Yan returned home, feeling the changes in the power within his body. With the Pulse, the power of Xin Dao, and the fusion of qi and blood, it became much easier.

Once the Pulse of Xin Dao and the heartbeat fully aligned, the difficulty of reversing the fusion of qi and blood greatly decreased.

Similarly, the qi and blood themselves became stronger more easily.

Now he understood a bit why it was so difficult before, and only when Bai Jiahui helped could he cultivate normally.

His qi and blood were constantly fluctuating, a natural occurrence, but the power of Xin Dao seemed more like a stable artificial water flow, with a very low degree of harmony between the two.

Now, with the Pulse, this Pulse clearly had an additional mobilizing effect on the qi and blood. Under this harmonizing condition, his cultivation became much smoother.

There was no need to act recklessly, relying on forced mobilization to achieve coordination.

Moreover, this was not even the fundamental power of the Pulse.

After feeling it for a long time, Wen Yan increasingly felt that the path he had carved out from sheer recklessness might indeed have significant issues, especially now that he had reached this stage, and the problems began to emerge.

It makes sense; the power of others had been refined and tested over countless people, sometimes over hundreds of years, to be integrated into its current form. He wanted to take shortcuts, how could there be no problems?

Luckily, he didn’t randomly pass it on to others, and the only guinea pig was Zhang Xuewen, who has an opportunity every month to restore his full state.

Simply feeling the degree of harmony brought by the Pulse, he had a new idea.

Is it possible that others have traveled this path before, but just couldn’t make it through?

Or perhaps this path is a narrow bridge that only a very few can cross, so it has never been passed down?

It’s all possible.

In any case, for something to be passed down and retained over time, it must be universally applicable enough or have a stable channel to transmit the information.

Martial Path fits this universality especially well; from the weakest ordinary person to the weakest among them, there is a suitable introductory boxing technique, the simplest method of physical exercise, very many.

And places like Fuyu Mountain serve as stable channels to pass down things that are temporarily unused, or unused by anyone, in the form of texts, keeping them safe for generations.

If we have to count, we can add on the Witch’s way, but this can be ignored since it’s high difficulty, poor universality, and can’t even be determined what things are left behind.

There are reasons why certain methods are chosen as mainstream and validated by reality, and unchosen ones also have their reasons.

Previously Wen Yan discovered that some Finger Print could be used and noticed the meridian map with the division into secondary branches in the book given by Wei Jing, he knew that many things must have been tried by someone, but just didn’t spread in the end.

Just like the Scorching Sun Fist of Fuyu Mountain, strong indeed, but except for certain individuals, others simply can’t use it.

Now he’s already beginning to understand that old saying, the more you know, the more you realize you understand so little.

He’s starting to feel that the upper limit of cultivation, how far he can forge ahead, has less and less to do with whether he’s willing to risk his life.

This is no longer something that can be achieved by daring to charge forward.

He struggled for so long, barely grinding out a bit of progress, still having to fight fiercely with others, and in the end, in other places, solutions might already exist.

Just like last time, he passed it on to Zhang Xuewen, letting Zhang Xuewen explore the path, and the results were far better than him slowly grinding it out himself.

Wen Yan pondered these things, and a series of ideas became clearer in his mind.

Without any significant events, Wen Yan just practiced every day, reading and studying, having a fulfilling life.

The information he obtained was reported up, and temporarily it had nothing to do with him anymore.

Time passed day by day, seven days later.

The owner of the fried goods shop watched as Bai Jiahui and Shishi worked in perfect sync in the back kitchen, meticulously completing their tasks.

He personally tasted a bite and praised them.

"Not bad, very quick progress. Technically at eighty points, that’s already sufficient; the rest depends on how much attention you pay in preparation, the quality of the ingredients."

The owner looked at Bai Jiahui’s beaming face, feeling a bit helpless, but also pleased.

He’s very satisfied with people who come to learn, who love to eat, are willing to work hard, and work diligently, at least they wouldn’t do badly.

But Bai Jiahui loves eating a bit too much; looking at her eyebrows, she’s a great beauty with excellent bone structure, but just being here for a week, she looks noticeably more blessed than before.

The owner waved a hand, signaling Bai Jiahui to try it herself.

Without the mask, Bai Jiahui’s face was slightly chubbier, and the whole person did indeed seem slightly more solid than before.

Still eating fried chicken without spitting out bones, just looking a tad bit more elegant compared to before.

As for why it seems so natural, it’s because, according to the owner, indeed some people eat fried chicken wings and legs without spitting out bones, chewing them entirely.

Now Bai Jiahui has no psychological burden at all.

After realizing eating happily would make her fat, but getting fat reduces Charm, she found a legitimate reason to eat happily.

She absolutely doesn’t care about any Charm power now; instead, she feels that this ability is a burden and a shackle for her current self.