Chapter Twenty: Divine Will Tempering the Body

Xiao Nan didn’t stop because he wanted to, but simply because he was out of strength.

This wretched body.

He hadn’t even truly fought—just gone through the motions, barely exerting himself, and already he couldn’t hold out any longer.

Estimating the time, he realized he’d been practicing beside the herb garden for about half an hour, almost without noticing.

It wasn’t so weak, actually—not at least a flash-in-the-pan. Aside from poor stamina, everything else seemed decent.

Especially since, while practicing swordplay, he completely lost track of time, wholly immersed in the flow. Even when he’d first studied martial arts in his previous life, he’d never felt such profound interest in training.

If not for his body’s limits, he might not have wanted to stop at all.

Without bothering to return to his room, Xiao Nan just plopped down onto the grass, breathing heavily.

He became aware that his lungs felt as though they were on fire, his limbs were limp and weak, and even the light ebony sword in his hand now seemed heavy, almost beyond his grip.

His shoulder and back muscles, in particular, throbbed with a burning, tearing pain.

Rolling up his right sleeve, he examined his elbow—there, a vivid patch of bruised swelling stood out.

He’d injured himself in the Blood Sacrifice chamber, gathering his strength to use the Vajra King’s Elbow, shattering the thug’s throat in a single strike.

After hospital treatment, the pain had almost vanished, but now it returned with a needling sting.

His right heel ached as well, making walking slightly uncomfortable.

“Insufficient blood and energy, weak bones and sinews, soft muscles,” he thought.

Exerting himself physically brought on all kinds of aches and injuries—his body was no better than that of an ordinary person. Years of martial arts classes had been for naught.

A faint sadness welled up in Xiao Nan’s heart.

The initial joy faded away.

In this condition, the upcoming martial arts assessment looked grim. The internal test wasn’t too concerning—since it was held at school, leniency was expected—but the college entrance examination would be truly perilous.

Who could guess what would be tested? What if his weaknesses were exposed?

He’d heard that in previous years, there’d been real combat trials—blades clashing, true fights. Without strength, one wouldn’t stand a chance.

Having suddenly developed a talent for swordplay was wonderful, of course.

But the problem of his body’s vitality remained a formidable barrier. Without robust health as a foundation, even the most refined techniques were little more than show.

Someone who could only attack a few times before becoming exhausted could never be considered a true expert.

Nor would it be difficult for others to exploit this flaw.

“Wait, I haven’t tried the Divine Intent Body-Tempering Method yet.”

Perhaps that could offer a solution.

Closing his eyes, he calmed his breath, recalling the eighty-one movements of body-tempering taught by his instructor...

Every martial arts high school student received instruction in this government-promoted exercise, aimed at improving the nation’s health.

It wasn’t especially difficult—no strange, unnatural movements.

There was no bending your head under your own body, nor biting your toes.

In Xiao Nan’s view, it was much like the morning calisthenics of his previous life, only with more complex motions that targeted more muscles and bones.

Doing the full routine did help circulate blood and energy, strengthening the body.

But for ordinary people, without cultivating their spirit to a certain level, that was the extent of its effect.

Once the spiritual realm broke through to the meditative “Starry Sky” stage, however, the Divine Intent Eighty-One Forms revealed their true marvel.

Practiced with concentrated spirit, this technique could rapidly rouse one’s energy and blood, fortifying the flesh.

It fundamentally transformed the body’s frailty.

His homeroom teacher, Yang Yankun, often repeated, “Spirit is the foundation; never neglect it. Once your spirit reaches the second level—‘Stars Fill the Sky’—a new door opens in martial arts training.”

The Divine Intent Body-Tempering, driven by spiritual strength, touched upon the awakening of the body’s hidden potentials.

Perhaps it drew in the essence of heaven and earth, perhaps it strengthened bodily cells.

Whatever the mechanism, under the wondrous influence of the spirit, this technique truly laid the foundation for physical cultivation.

Otherwise, it was merely a fancy exercise routine.

Xiao Nan stilled his heart and mind, carefully feeling out each movement.

He sensed faint, cool currents weaving through his muscles and bones—weak, yet unmistakably real.

Following the remembered instructions, he poured all his focus into the flow of his energy and blood, his body sometimes curling, sometimes stretching.

His gaze fixed on his fingertips, chest and abdomen moving rhythmically...

With each breath, he tried to make the inhalations long and even.

As his breathing and movements synchronized, spirit sinking inward, he could faintly perceive the coursing of his blood and energy.

Coolness spread through his pores as he sensed the air of the outside world.

Breathing became subtle, almost imperceptible. In that calm state, as his body stretched, his muscles and fascia naturally contracted and relaxed.

It was a spontaneous, harmonious interplay.

As he moved through the eighty-one forms, from arms to thighs, through waist and abdomen up to his neck, his muscles responded in unison, like dominoes falling in sequence.

Tug on one, and the whole body moved; as energy and blood boiled, his spirit grew lively, heat flared at the base of his spine, and his body tingled all over.

Strength welled up from deep within.

“Fifteen forms—fifteen is my limit.”

Xiao Nan lowered his arms, bracing his hands on his knees, sweat beading and dripping down, white steam rising from his skin.

His face was pale as paper, his expression fatigued but his eyes gleaming with delight.

“This method is far more efficient than the so-called Tiger-Leopard Thunder Breathing from my last life, not to mention external hardening techniques—those can’t compare to the Divine Intent Body-Tempering.”

Of course, all this was thanks to his spiritual breakthrough.

Even so, after just fifteen forms, his mind felt dizzy, vision blurred, eyelids heavy.

“The effect is remarkable—I can feel my muscles growing stronger. But it exhausts the spirit far too quickly; I can’t do this more than a few times a day.”

That was to be expected.

Otherwise, the teachers wouldn’t constantly stress that spirit was the foundation for bodily advancement.

Apart from lack of proficiency draining his spirit, his body’s inherent weakness was also a problem.

Other students reportedly felt energized after practicing this method, blood and energy surging.

He, on the other hand, felt as though he’d overexerted himself.

He could tell that the burning sensation during the exercise was no illusion—it was genuine consumption of his vital energy.

Now, his chest was tight, breath short, heart pounding wildly—a familiar weakness from blood loss.

He knew this feeling well.

Next, it would be time to replenish with good medicinal herbs, accelerating his cultivation.

No wonder the lowest- and second-grade medicinal pills sold at exorbitant prices, and even the meat of wild, fierce beasts was out of reach for ordinary families.

For martial artists, every resource for increasing strength was precious—a strategic asset.

It was only natural that they should be expensive.

After a good while, Xiao Nan finally caught his breath, his spirits rising once more.

He clenched his fists, sensing the growth of his strength, and felt a slight regret that no one was there to witness his progress.

The three pillars of the martial arts college entrance exam were spirit, vitality, and technique.

With his spirit elevated and his energy showing promise, as for technique—well, with the little girl’s talent now his own, he was supremely confident. And he could also bring the combat instincts from his previous life into this body.

This should be his strong suit.

Yet, why did he feel such an urge to share and show off? How could he be so shallow?

Puzzled by this strange feeling, Xiao Nan didn’t dwell on it. He ignored the wooden sword lying on the grass and walked straight into the house.

He wandered around restlessly—left and right, pacing through the empty home—until, almost without realizing, he found himself standing at the door of his sister’s room.