Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

The sun was sinking in the west, and the sky was turning to dusk.

From the two black-lacquered gates of the Southern Three Guards Patrol Office, constables began to emerge in twos and threes, their shifts over.

The common folk who made their living nearby were also finishing their work for the day. Figures carrying poles, pushing carts, and holding baskets flowed hurriedly through the deepening twilight.

Street-side stalls selling steamed buns, noodle soup, and braised meat took the opportunity to hawk their wares, creating a boisterous, bustling market atmosphere.

Chen Cheng squatted in the shadows of a narrow alley mouth across the street, his back against a cold earthen wall. He was almost one with the gloom.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze cutting through the bustling crowd to lock firmly onto the entrance of the Patrol Office.

Thanks to their brief, face-to-face encounter before, he quickly identified Zhao Chuan, as well as the two young constables who had been following him that day.

For several days in a row, Chen Cheng would change his clothes and his stakeout position, tailing the three men like a silent shadow.

Bit by bit, he committed their daily routes and habits to memory.

During this time, Chen Cheng also found a moment to visit a secondhand market on the edge of the Outer City. There, he picked out several thick, opaque pieces of old black cloth from a pile of junk.

That night, under the cover of darkness, he stashed all the black cloth in Zhou Long’s dilapidated and long-vacant shack, which had already been ransacked and left in a mess.

「The next day.」

The sky had yet to fully brighten.

Chen Cheng had woken up even earlier than usual, but no matter how early he rose, there were always disciples training in the Outer Hall’s courtyard.

In the gray morning light, most of the figures had White Cards hanging from their waists.

Their movements were clearly weak and unsteady, showing signs of exhaustion.

Some stumbled on their feet, yet they continued to strike the iron-banded wooden dummies, blow after blow.

Others held the Hidden Dragon Posture, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, veins bulging on their foreheads. It was impossible to tell if it was sweat or dew dripping down their chins.

In a more distant corner, a gaunt, short-haired disciple was practicing the Hidden Dragon Fist over and over.

Once, twice, three times...

His face was sallow, his eyes sunken, and his chapped lips were cracked and bleeding. Every breath was a rasping wheeze, like a bellows, yet his eyes remained fixed on his fists, as if he would never stop so long as he had a single breath left in him.

”Whatcha lookin’ at?”

From the room next door, Qian Baolu stumbled out rubbing his eyes. Spotting Chen Cheng standing there, he followed his gaze.

”That kid’s name is Lin Fengxiao. He used to be quite the big shot. It only took him half a year to refine One Pillar of Blood Qi, making him one of the top Black Disciples in the Outer Hall. Everyone thought he had a bright future.”

”Then, for some reason, his family suffered a great misfortune... He couldn’t even pay the hall’s fees anymore. That’s when he had to sign a Death Oath Contract and was reduced to a White Disciple...”

”Ever since then, he’s been training like his life depends on it... I’ve personally seen him train until he coughed up blood, wiped his mouth, and just kept going...”

Qian Baolu couldn’t help but sigh.

”Honestly, there aren’t many people in the Outer Hall I admire, but Lin Fengxiao is one of them... It’s just a shame that without the resources he used to have, his Blood Qi hasn’t grown a single bit in months...”

”If he doesn’t show any progress by the next Outer Hall assessment, he’ll probably be deemed to have exhausted his potential and be sent away...”

Chen Cheng listened in silence. A faint ripple flickered in the depths of his eyes before they quickly returned to their usual calm.

Lately, Chen Cheng and Qian Baolu had often trained and eaten together.

Qian Baolu was well-informed but loose-lipped. Whenever Chen Cheng asked him about something he didn’t understand, Qian Baolu would almost always tell him everything he knew.

Over time, their relationship had become quite a bit better than it was at the beginning.

However, there were some things Chen Cheng couldn’t bring himself to tell Qian Baolu directly.

For instance, at this very moment, Lin Fengxiao’s practice of the Hidden Dragon Fist had two subtle, hard-to-spot flaws. It was one thing for the Outer Hall Disciples not to notice, but even the masters of the Inner Hall hadn’t pointed them out or corrected them...

Chen Cheng had observed coolly for days. The high-and-mighty Master Ye rarely showed his face in the Outer Hall.

Occasionally, senior disciples from the Inner Hall would come out to inspect, but their gazes would only fall upon the Black Disciples, offering them brief pointers.

As for White Disciples like Lin Fengxiao, unless they had backed the right faction, they were like weeds in the wilderness—left to grow and die on their own, with no one paying them any mind.

This situation was likely not unique to the Dragon Mountain Hall.

Countless Martial Artists formed bottlenecks at some future stage, finding it difficult to break through or even being trapped for life, all because of tiny mistakes made in their early years. Over the long years, many ended up with a body full of irreversible hidden injuries.

In this Outer Hall, Lin Fengxiao was not an exception.

Chen Cheng saw through it all with a cold detachment but felt it wasn’t his place to say anything. He didn’t want to get involved in another’s fate, much less challenge this long-standing unwritten rule.

Ultimately, ’when you are weak and of low status, every thought must be of self-preservation first and foremost’.

In the distance, the wind from Lin Fengxiao’s fists still whistled with stubborn persistence. It was a doomed effort, yet it reflected the cruelest and most fundamental truth of this world.

It was approaching noon.

Chen Cheng’s Training Attire was already soaked through with sweat.

Every full-powered punch he threw not only created a sharp, wind-breaking sound, but also sent a fine spray of sweat bursting from his knuckles, blooming into lotuses of mist in the sunlight.

As of today, he had used up both bottles of Blood Nourishing Powder he possessed. The boost was significant. The Pillar of Blood Qi at the Great Dragon of his spine had grown more robust and solid, now lustrous like jade.

He had observed carefully and weighed his chances with cautious conservatism. Right now, in the entire Outer Hall, there wasn’t a single disciple who also had One Pillar of Blood Qi that could be his opponent.

But if he were to face a disciple who had refined a second Pillar of Blood Qi, he had almost no chance of winning.

’Based on my current progress, if I can get my hands on two more bottles of Blood Nourishing Powder, I’ll be able to condense a second Pillar of Blood Qi within half a month.’

’But without the boost from the Blood Nourishing Powder, relying solely on hard training and supplements of ordinary meat... it would probably take me more than another month.’

He mused silently, knowing full well that this pace wasn’t actually fast compared to others.

This was mainly because after reaching Minor Achievement in Health Tai Chi, his Blood Qi had been directly strengthened by a full fifty percent above the normal base.

This fifty percent wasn’t a Cultivation Realm, but a fundamental foundation.

A solid and profound foundation was undoubtedly a good thing. It meant an absolute advantage against those in the same Realm, as well as a higher and broader upper limit for his future in Martial Arts.

But correspondingly, the difficulty of condensing a second Pillar of Blood Qi on top of this powerful foundation would also increase proportionally.

This was specifically reflected in the growth of his training progress.

He was putting in the same amount of sweat and time as before, but the growth of his training progress was about fifty percent slower.

This meant that without the boost from Blood Nourishing Powder, Chen Cheng’s speed of strengthening and condensing his Blood Qi couldn’t compare at all to those genius disciples with high Comprehension and good Root Bone.

However, Chen Cheng would always have one advantage that others could never match.

That is, when he trained any skill granted by the Vertical Eye Mark, he would never make the slightest mistake. Furthermore, every single bit of progress he made would be permanently solidified by the mark—he would only improve, never regress.

Because of this, he could accept his current slower progress, moving forward steadily, one tier at a time.

Of course, if he had the chance to obtain Blood Nourishing Powder, or even better Great Medicine, to supplement his body and boost his progress, that would undoubtedly be even better.

Just then.

A commotion that could not be suppressed suddenly erupted in the distance.

Many disciples stopped what they were doing and swarmed over in that direction, as if attracted by some rare sight.

——