Sun Yong waved his hand, his gaze resting on the straight back until the door curtain fell and the figure vanished completely into the night. Only then did he slowly pull his gaze away.

The study returned to silence. Only the flame of the oil lamp occasionally crackled softly, casting his shadow onto the bookshelf, making it flicker and waver.

Sun Yong picked up the lukewarm tea from the table and took a sip. The bitter taste spread across his tongue, yet it seemed to clear his muddled thoughts a little.

"I really misjudged him," he muttered to himself, his fingertip tracing circles on the table.

"Fortunately, it’s not too late to make amends."

Sun Yong whispered softly.

The two with the most potential in the Martial Arts Hall right now were Lin Yue and Yang Jing.

In Sun Yong’s mind, the other Inner Strength disciples simply didn’t carry the same weight as these two.

But even between Lin Yue and Yang Jing, there were differences.

Lin Yue’s path had been too smooth. He had a reputation as a genius, and several of the county’s great families had already extended olive branches. After winning first place in today’s arena trial, he was bound to cause another stir in Yuhe County.

Lin Yue never lacked for resources or connections. Sun Yong’s only worry was that Lin Yue was still young and his temperament was unsteady. He feared this promising sapling might grow crooked.

But Yang Jing was different.

The Sun’s Medical Hall where Yang Jing had a position was, in Sun Yong’s opinion, nothing special. It could hardly offer Yang Jing much help.

’No backing, no funding... it’s not easy to have come this far.’ Sun Yong sighed, a trace of sympathy welling up in his heart.

He then took a yellowed ledger from a drawer and flipped to the page for elixirs. He placed a checkmark next to the "Qi Storage Pill" entry and wrote a note beside it: "For Yang Jing. Restock later."

Having done this, he closed the ledger, leaned back in the Grandmaster’s Chair, and gazed absently at the night outside the window.

’Perhaps investing more resources in Yang Jing wouldn’t be a bad thing.’

’Lin Yue is like a sharp sword—dazzling, but liable to hurt others.’

’Yang Jing, however, is like a heavy shield. Unimpressive at first glance, but he might just deliver a surprise when it counts.’

Sun Yong smiled, then picked up his cup and drained it in one gulp.

The night grew deeper, but the oil lamp in the study remained lit, reflecting the hope in his eyes.

’Maybe this weed that sprouted from a crack in the stones will one day grow into a great tree, offering shelter from the wind and rain.’

CREEK.

The door curtain was gently pushed aside, and Sun Ningxiang walked in carrying a copper basin. A faint scent of medicinal herbs clung to her.

She first placed the basin in a corner, then deftly began to clear the tea set from the desk: the Cyan Porcelain Tea Cup, the purple clay teapot, and the untouched cup of cold tea Yang Jing had left.

"Father, it’s late. You should be resting."

Her voice was gentle, like an evening breeze brushing across a lake. "I’ll take these to be washed. Please go to bed soon. Don’t wear yourself out."

Sun Yong watched his daughter’s bustling figure. The loose strands of hair at her temples swayed with her movements, and her plain cloth dress made her features seem all the more gentle.

’Over the years, Ning Xiang has not only kept the house in perfect order but has also learned a great deal about medicine. She’s steady, meticulous... truly a rare and wonderful young woman.’

Just then, an image of Yang Jing’s calm and steady demeanor abruptly surfaced in his mind.

’Though the boy comes from an ordinary background, he has a resilient spirit. He’s down-to-earth, his eyes are clear, and it now seems he has talent, too.’

’What if...’ The thought sprang forth uncontrollably, startling even Sun Yong himself.

’If it weren’t for Lin Yue... if Lin Yue didn’t possess such a superior constitution... if he hadn’t poured so much effort and hope into him... a steady and reliable character like Yang Jing’s might actually be a good match for Ning Xiang.’

The thought was like a seed. Once planted, it couldn’t help but begin to take root and sprout.

He watched his daughter lift the tray and turn to leave. Her figure, though slender, was poised and straight. He suddenly felt a bit dazed.

"Father?" Sun Ningxiang sensed his stare and turned back, looking at him in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"It’s nothing." Sun Yong quickly waved his hand, forcibly suppressing the stray thoughts in his mind. He smiled and said, "Go on. Finish up and get to bed early. Don’t tire yourself out."

Sun Ningxiang nodded, then turned and left through the curtained doorway.

The room fell silent again, but Sun Yong had lost all desire to sleep.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping on the desk. He just couldn’t push that thought from his mind.

’Lin Yue’s talent is plain to see, but there’s something about Yang Jing’s steadfast nature that gives me an inexplicable sense of security.’

"Forget it, forget it," he sighed, trying to banish the chaotic thoughts. "I’ve already settled on Lin Yue, so there’s no point in stirring things up. Besides, that boy, Yue’Er, has feelings for Ning Xiang, too."

...

At Tongyi Square, as Yang Jing pushed open the wooden gate to his small courtyard, he saw his cousin Yang An practicing Raging Wave Kicks with whooshing sounds.

Wisps of white smoke drifted from the kitchen, carrying the faint aroma of meat.

"Brother Jing, you’re back." Yang An looked up, his eyes brightening as he saw him. He walked over and said, "You must be tired. I’ve already made dinner. Go get cleaned up, and we’ll eat."

Yang Jing smiled and nodded.

He freshened up and went into the main house. He had just sat down at the large square table when Yang An walked in carrying a clay pot. When he lifted the lid, a rich, meaty aroma instantly filled the air. The tiger meat inside was stewed until it was fall-apart tender, and the broth glistened with an amber sheen.

"I added some goji berries and angelica root. An old physician told me this is the most nourishing way to cook it."

Yang An said as he ladled a large bowl for Yang Jing, "Quick, eat it while it’s hot. It gets too rich when it cools down."

Yang Jing had just picked up his chopsticks when a sudden KNOCK KNOCK came from the courtyard gate.

"Who could that be at this hour?" Yang An wiped his hands and stood up to get the gate.

But Yang Jing stopped him, placing a hand on his wrist as he stood up. "Brother An, you eat first. I’ll go see."

’Someone coming at this hour is probably looking for me,’ Yang Jing thought.

’It’s probably Liu Maolin,’ he guessed, ’wanting to talk about the arena trial tomorrow.’

Yang Jing walked to the gate and slid the bolt open. The figure standing outside made him pause in surprise.

"Master, what are you doing here?" Yang Jing asked, astonished.

Sun Yong was dressed in a simple navy robe, holding several neatly folded sheets of paper. Seeing Yang Jing open the gate, he showed no intention of coming inside and simply tossed the papers to him. "Take these."

Yang Jing hurriedly caught them. His fingertips brushed against the rough edges of the paper. By the light of the lantern hanging from the eaves, he saw they were six sheets of paper covered in writing. Each sheet was marked with a name, followed by a different arena number.

"For the arena trial tomorrow, this is information on the winners from the other six platforms. Give it a quick look."

Sun Yong said, "It notes who specializes in palm techniques, whose Inner Strength leans toward the soft and yin style—it’s all written down. Read it over tonight. I’ll explain in more detail when we get to the grounds tomorrow."

Yang Jing nodded quickly. "Yes, Master. I understand."

Sun Yong grunted softly in acknowledgment.

"Master, won’t you come in and sit for a while?" Yang Jing quickly made way for him. A wave of warmth washed over him, seeing his master make a special trip over here so late at night.

He was also puzzled, though. ’How does Master know where I live now?’

But Yang Jing didn’t ask. ’With Master’s status,’ he figured, ’it probably wasn’t hard for him to find out.’

Sun Yong waved a hand and turned to leave, the hem of his robe cutting a sharp arc in the darkness. "No need. I’m heading back. Rest up after you’ve read it; don’t stay up too late. This is all just to help. Ultimately, it comes down to your own strength. A blacksmith needs to be strong himself."

Before his voice faded, his figure was already several yards away, the last of his words vanishing on the wind at the mouth of the alley.

Yang Jing stood at the gate, papers in hand, and watched his master’s back disappear around the corner. He couldn’t help but smile.

...

「The next morning.」

The sky was just beginning to brighten, and the alleys of Tongyi Square were still steeped in the chill of the night’s dew, but Yang Jing was already out of bed.

He walked to the table and, by the dim light filtering through the paper window, took out the pearly white porcelain bottle his master had given him. It contained ten Qi Storage Pills. Yang Jing tipped out a single elixir, about the size of a pigeon’s egg.

The elixir was perfectly round with a faint, glossy sheen. When he brought it closer, a crisp medicinal fragrance shot straight into his nostrils.

Yang Jing took a deep breath and placed the elixir in his mouth.

The elixir dissolved the instant it touched his tongue, transforming into a warm current that slid down his throat and into his stomach.

A moment later, that warmth began to churn like boiling water, surging through his meridians and into his limbs.

When it flowed through his arms, his fists seemed to swell with power, as if a single punch could shatter granite. When it streamed through his legs, it felt as if immense strength was gathering in the soles of his feet, that a single stomp could kick up a gale.

He closed his eyes and focused, feeling the elixir’s power slowly diffuse through him. His qi and blood, which had been sluggish from the previous day’s fierce battles, were now surging like a tide. His entire body felt infused with inexhaustible power.

...