Chapter Nine: Tempering the Body

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As night descended, a bright full moon hung high in the sky. The clear, cold moonlight quietly bathed the courtyard of the little Jing Mountain Taoist Temple, where a large cauldron in front of the furnace sent up billowing steam.

A rich medicinal fragrance filled the air.

“That should be enough,” Taoist Pang said, waving his horsetail whisk to signal Fang Xiao that it was time to begin.

So, standing on a stool, Fang Xiao steeled himself with a sense of tragic heroism and resolutely extended his bare foot toward the cauldron, beneath which a fire was burning fiercely.

Only a piece of coarse linen covered his most vital parts.

The moment his bare foot touched the scalding liquid, Fang Xiao bared his teeth in pain!

But at this point, there was no room for retreat. He clenched his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and plunged with a splash into the cauldron.

“Aaah!”

The sensation of being enveloped in boiling medicinal liquid was beyond words.

In that instant, Fang Xiao truly believed he was about to die.

Yet the worst did not happen.

Soon, while sitting in the cauldron, Fang Xiao realized that although the liquid bubbled and seethed, its temperature remained just within the limits of what he could bear.

Threads of heat, laced with medicinal power, quickly seeped into his pores.

They penetrated his limbs and bones, reaching deep into his organs!

Huh?

Prepared to endure torture, Fang Xiao suddenly found that, once accustomed to the temperature, he was growing increasingly comfortable!

He opened his eyes and couldn’t help but break into a smile.

Meanwhile, Taoist Pang’s eyes glinted with sly amusement as he lounged lazily in his chair, produced a cigarette case from his robe sleeve, and lit a Da Qianmen.

Compared to Taoist Pang’s easy relaxation, Fang Xiao in the cauldron soon sensed something was wrong.

As the potent medicine permeated his body, its effects were gradually unleashed.

Soreness, numbness, itching, pain—strange sensations surged through Fang Xiao’s flesh and bones.

Every inch of his muscles and skeleton was being pulled and tortured repeatedly!

Fang Xiao nearly leaped out of the cauldron.

His face flushed bright red, beads of sweat as large as soybeans gathered on his forehead, his features contorted with strain.

At that moment, Taoist Pang suddenly pointed his whisk at the furnace and said coolly, “If you can’t endure for the time it takes a stick of incense to burn, this batch of Body-Tempering Elixir—worth at least five thousand taels of silver—will be ruined!”

In the center of the furnace stood a stick of incense, no thicker than a little finger.

Its tip glowed red, trailing a thin wisp of smoke, just newly lit!

Fang Xiao drew a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and forced himself to persist, refusing to cry out in pain.

Five thousand taels—he couldn’t afford the loss even if he sold himself!

Most importantly, Fang Xiao didn’t want to be looked down upon by his master.

Only the weak would howl and wail!

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Taoist Pang chuckled and crossed his legs.

He was not exaggerating.

The cauldron of Body-Tempering liquid he had specially prepared for Fang Xiao contained not only more than a dozen precious herbs, but also half a costly Body-Tempering Pill.

Even five thousand taels was an understatement!

There was no other way—Fang Xiao had an Innately Blocked Constitution, incapable of cultivating the immortal path, and could only pursue martial arts.

Moreover, he had long since missed the best age for training; his muscles and bones had already set, so to practice martial arts, he had to remake his very body.

For Fang Xiao, this cauldron would be the first of at least eight such soaks in the same medicinal brew.

Otherwise, his training in the Qianyang Dragon-Tiger Technique would yield only meager results.

Even condensing energy would be difficult!

The horsetail whisk lay across the armrest, its long silken threads trailing to the ground.

Taoist Pang’s spiritual power flowed down the whisk, silently channeling into the medicinal cauldron.

He precisely regulated both the liquid’s temperature and the release of its medicinal strength.

Time crept slowly by.

When the stick of incense in the furnace was finally consumed, the fire under the cauldron also flickered out.

Most of the liquid had evaporated, leaving behind a thick, black, viscous residue with a strange smell.

Fang Xiao, sitting motionless in the cauldron, looked like a cooked shrimp—completely wilted.

At that moment, Taoist Pang, who had been reclining, suddenly opened his eyes.

He flicked his whisk and barked, “Up!”

At his command, hundreds of silken threads shot out, snaking through the air to wrap Fang Xiao’s body like living serpents.

Before Fang Xiao could react, he was lifted bodily into the air.

A shake, and he was set steadily on the ground.

The threads withdrew.

Shivering, Fang Xiao quickly grabbed the clothes nearby and wrapped himself up.

“Open your mouth!”

Taoist Pang’s voice rang out.

Fang Xiao instinctively obeyed, and half a pill flew into his mouth.

It slid down his throat and into his belly!

At once, Fang Xiao felt as if a bomb had exploded in his stomach—a fierce, overwhelming medicinal power erupted inside.

He had been so weak he could barely stand.

Now, in a flash, it was as if he’d been injected with pure energy; his vigor and spirit returned in an instant.

He nearly leaped with renewed strength!

“Go to the kitchen for a bath, and remember to drink plenty of water,” Taoist Pang instructed.

Even before he’d finished, Fang Xiao dashed off to the kitchen.

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At that moment, he felt as if his entire body was about to combust; if he didn’t rehydrate, he would die of thirst on the spot!

This so-called “body tempering” was simply inhuman.

Hearing the loud gulping sounds of water coming from the kitchen, Taoist Pang burst into hearty laughter.

His laughter echoed over the temple walls, drifting into the surrounding mountains and forests.

The ghosts and spirits lurking in the darkness scattered and withdrew.

The long night was only just beginning.

At dawn, Fang Xiao summoned all his strength and will just to struggle out of bed in the guest room.

After last night’s ordeal, he had been utterly drained.

He’d collapsed onto the bed and slept deeply.

By morning, his entire body felt as if it had been run over by a train, again and again.

Not a single muscle or bone seemed to belong to him anymore!

It was a truly miserable feeling.

He desperately wanted to lie down and rest more.

But just then, Taoist Pang’s sinister voice drifted in through the window: “Get up. After breakfast, stand in the Dragon-Tiger stance!”

Fang Xiao pinched his thigh hard, using the pain to jolt himself awake.

His stomach immediately rumbled with the force of thunder.

He licked his dry lips and grabbed the water jug hanging by the bed.

He took several long gulps to quench his thirst.

Then, he retrieved his aluminum lunchbox from his satchel.

To his relief, the lunchbox once again held steamed buns, dumplings, and braised pork!

Just as Taoist Pang had said, the military satchel was truly a treasure.

Fang Xiao wasted no time, wolfing down the food ravenously.

Without it, he doubted he’d survive the day!

Once he’d eaten every last morsel, Fang Xiao felt his strength slowly returning.

Revived, he left the room and went out into the courtyard.

There sat Taoist Pang as usual, lounging in his chair, a charcoal brazier beside him heating a teapot.

Steam curled from the spout.

When he saw Fang Xiao, the portly temple master’s lips curled into a malicious grin!

Fang Xiao felt his scalp prickle.

His instincts told him that today would bring yet another grueling challenge.