Smash its head.

It was obvious that Jiang Feng's regenerative ability also stemmed from that mysterious trace of bloodline. But where did it originate? Could it be the direct lineage of one of the thirty-six ancient clans?

Jiang Feng shook his head.

Though bloodlines were inherited through family, this trace was so faint that it must have been passed down for untold generations. If any so-called kin remained, they had long been scattered to parts unknown, bearing no relation to him whatsoever.

Jiang Feng reined in his thoughts.

Right now, what mattered most was finding a way to continue cultivating in martial arts, despite being unable to properly use his vital energy.

The faint vital force filtered through the golden bloodline, coursing through his veins and fortifying his body.

After much contemplation, Jiang Feng made a decision.

Even if he could not wield his own vital energy, he could still control and utilize his body!

As long as his body was strong enough, his fists hard enough, it wouldn't matter how skillfully or wondrously his opponents manipulated their energy—he would simply overwhelm them with brute force, knocking them down with a single punch!

Moreover, he possessed his innate bloodline power, granting him formidable regenerative abilities. As long as his foes failed to kill him outright, he would simply outlast and defeat them!

Jiang Feng resolved upon his path of cultivation and the type of martial techniques he required.

Simple, direct, and every blow landing with tangible force!

He leapt down from the boulder, planted his stance firmly, and began to throw punches.

With every punch, he seemed to hear the mingling of vital energy and blood surging through his body. He felt, as he moved, faint threads of energy seep into his flesh, gradually strengthening every muscle, every sinew.

If he continued punching like this, one day he would possess the strength to shatter all that bound him, to fell every enemy, and safeguard his most precious treasure!

...

At the break of dawn, Jiang Feng began his second round of cultivation.

The gentle and pure energy of daybreak washed over him like warm water, so soothing he nearly shut his eyes in contentment.

At sunrise, the sun's power was not at its peak, but was at its purest, free from any impurities. The Mind Seed cherished this energy above all, absorbing it almost entirely, making cultivation extremely efficient.

This session, he barely managed to accumulate energy for the second segment of his vital branch, not yet enough to open his second aperture.

Each segment of the vital branch held more energy than the last; clearly, the further one progressed, the more energy was required, making advancement increasingly arduous.

Finished with cultivation, Jiang Feng returned to the treehouse and opened the second notebook left by the young lady.

The cover bore the title: "Vital Core."

After opening the vital aperture, a martial artist needed to embed a vital core within it.

The vital core was taken from the body of a spirit beast, and came in five elemental types: earth, fire, water, metal, and wood, each granting different abilities. Energy channeled through the core amplified the corresponding powers.

An earth core bolstered the martial artist's physical defenses and bestowed the power of earth.

A water core enhanced regenerative ability and granted command over water.

A fire core concerned strength, allowing energy to be imbued with the force of flame.

A wood core strengthened willpower and, naturally, enabled command over plants.

A metal core increased speed, enabled precise manipulation of energy, and granted mastery over all metals.

After giving these brief examples, the young lady emphasized that these were but one aspect of the vital cores' abilities—their true potential was far more wondrous and, to this day, had yet to be fully cataloged. Martial artists were to discover their mysteries through diligent cultivation.

A vital core... Jiang Feng pondered for a moment, then stood up.

He had now opened his first vital aperture, and it was time to embed his first core. He tied his sleeves and pant legs securely with grass rope, took a deep breath, and slipped out of the little valley, heading into the depths of Mount Taiwu.

...

This was not Jiang Feng's first time hunting in the mountains.

Besides spirit beasts, Mount Taiwu was also home to many ordinary animals. Martial cultivation required strength and vitality, which meant eating meat. Jiang Feng would often slip into the mountains to hunt wild game. It was while tracking a wild boar that he had discovered that nameless little valley.

The mountain had its own order, as if guided by some unseen force: ordinary animals and spirit beasts of varying strength each occupied their own territory.

Having grown up here, Jiang Feng knew all too well which areas were home to spirit beasts and thus forbidden to ordinary folk.

In the past, he would have taken great care to avoid those zones, but today, they were his target.

He moved with remarkable agility, dashing like a young deer—swift and light. Soon, he entered the territory of low-grade spirit beasts and crouched within a small woodland.

On the ground, he spotted some pawprints: plum-blossom shaped, likely those of a kind of mountain cat.

Mountain cats moved with stealthy steps, their tracks faint and intermittent, but Jiang Feng's keen eyes traced their direction easily. He advanced like a snake, hidden in shifting shadows, and before long, under the moonlight ahead, glimpsed a patch of brown, reflective fur.

Holding his breath, he crept closer with utmost care.

The mountain cat was sprawled on a branch, its back arched, eyes fixed on a squirrel not far ahead, oblivious to the human stalking it from behind.

Jiang Feng's breathing slowed, golden power seeming to gather beneath his skin with each inhalation and exhalation.

Now just five paces from the mountain cat, Jiang Feng lowered his body.

The cat remained unaware. As the squirrel twitched ahead, the cat sprang—but from behind, a shadow lunged even faster!

Jiang Feng seized the loose skin at the cat's nape and brought his fist crashing down!

The blow was tremendous; the cat yowled as it was smashed into the earth.

Ordinary beasts would have died from that punch alone. But this was a spirit beast—its body, tempered by energy over the years, was astoundingly tough.

It shook its head, yanked itself from the pit, and tried to leap away.

Jiang Feng, gripping the loose fur at its neck, slammed it back down. The cat opened its jaws to roar, only to fill its mouth with dirt.

Without hesitation, Jiang Feng rained punch after punch onto the same spot.

His fists met the cat's skull with dull, splintering cracks.

At first, the cat struggled and howled, but gradually its yowls faded and its movements weakened.

Blow by blow, Jiang Feng fractured its skull; brain matter and blood spattered, soaking half his body.

At last, the cat went limp—dead. A glint of gold flashed in Jiang Feng's eyes as he hurled it to the ground and stood tall, letting out a long, triumphant howl.

In truth, Jiang Feng's method was far from clever.

The head was a vital point, but also one of the toughest parts of the body—especially for a spirit beast. Its skull was astoundingly hard.

By beating the cat to death with his fists, Jiang Feng's own hands were left bloodied, mingling his own blood with the beast's.

But by killing the cat so directly and brutally, he vented all his pent-up frustration, leaving his heart clear and unburdened.

This was a first-grade spirit beast, a Gale Panther-Cat, renowned for its speed and command over wind.

Though Jiang Feng's attack was something of an ambush, he had only just opened his first aperture and could not truly wield energy yet. Relying solely on his fists to shatter a panther-cat's skull—such a feat proved his chosen path was indeed viable.

Jiang Feng drew a small knife and carefully skinned the Gale Panther-Cat, taking its claws and fangs as well.

A spirit beast’s hide and fur could be fashioned into all sorts of armor and weapons, highly valuable and expensive.

By destroying the cat's skull but leaving its pelt intact, he could fetch a good price—enough to support himself for some time.

When he was done, his knife was nearly ruined; the beast's skin was far tougher than expected and hard to cut.

Finished with the butchery, Jiang Feng gingerly opened the cat's body and searched within. After some time, he recovered two pale golden fragments—one from its heart, one from its belly.

These shards, semi-transparent and resembling impure crystals, were fragments of a metal-type vital core.

Low-grade spirit beasts did not contain complete vital cores, only scattered fragments. Gathering enough of a single type allowed one to refine a complete core with energy.

With the shards Jiang Feng had now, it would take about twenty pieces to make one core.

He put away the two fragments and continued through the forest. By noon, seeing the time, he found a sunlit spot to cultivate.

At midday, the energy was blazing hot and abundant. Jiang Feng forced open his second vital aperture, though only a small portion could be absorbed into his body through the golden bloodline.

By sunset, he had claimed a fire python, a nest of fire mice, and an earth-type wild boar.

He had chosen his hunting grounds well—these were all the lowest-grade, first-tier spirit beasts, making for easy battles. Altogether, seven exotic beasts yielded eleven fire-type core fragments and five earth-type ones.

As dusk fell, Jiang Feng's stomach began to rumble. Just as he was about to head back, a thought struck him. He cut two haunches from the wild boar, strung them with grass rope, and carried them back.

...

Since he could remember, Jiang Feng had lived alone in South Jiang.

He had long since lost count of how many nights he went to bed hungry.

For him, simply filling his belly was a blessing—half-cooked meat could be wolfed down without complaint; taste was a luxury he could not afford to consider.

Later, he met the young lady.

She was well-read, with broad interests, and when leisure allowed, would personally cook a fish—always unbelievably delicious.

After spending much time with her and reading many books, Jiang Feng gradually developed a sense of taste.

But perhaps the mark of childhood hunger was too deep: for Jiang Feng, the question of whether food tasted good could never compare to whether it could fill his belly and nourish his body.

He had heard of eating spirit beasts before. There was a book in the lady’s library on how to prepare their meat.

Jiang Feng had skimmed through it once, never to pick it up again.

He only remembered the opening lines:

The nourishment in spirit beast meat far exceeded that of ordinary animals.

But for those who had not cultivated, it was deadly poison and absolutely forbidden. Even martial artists had to process it specially; otherwise, not only was the taste questionable, but there could be other negative side effects.

Looking at the plump wild boar, Jiang Feng’s heart surged with desire.

Ordinary people could not eat spirit beasts, but now he had begun his cultivation!