Chapter 136: BODY ALTERING (1)

The morning sun had barely crested the eastern peaks of the Nine Valley Sect when malicious whispers began spreading like wild spirit fire through dry brush.

In the cultivation world, the rise of a genius was always met with envy, but the fall of a prodigy was celebrated with sickening delight.

By the time the morning gong sounded across the pavilions, nearly every corner of the Outer and Inner Sects was buzzing with scandalous rumors.

"Have you heard? That newly admitted disciple who took first place in two categories of the entrance exam... he’s completely crippled!"

"Tsk, you mean Elder Fu’s personal disciple, Li Yan? Truly? How could that be?"

"My senior brother heard it straight from the disciples who returned from the Baidun mission! He overreached, courting death by facing a Rank Nine demonic lizard. His dantian was drained dry, his meridians were corroded by the beast’s venomous miasma, and his entire right arm was withered to charcoal! Even the mortal physicians at the mountain base said his foundation was ruined beyond salvation!"

"Aiya, what a pity! Though, if you think about it, what else did you expect? To be favored by the Sect Master was already a blessing that exceeded his heavens-given fate. Wanting to soar like a dragon without an iron foundation... isn’t that just an ant trying to shake Mount Tai?"

"Hahaha, precisely! Now he cannot circulate a single wisp of spiritual Qi. In our Nine Valley Sect, a disciple who cannot cultivate is worse than a scullery maid!"

Across the stone walkways of the Inner Sect, Li Wei strolled with his chin held high, the silver-embroidered clouds on his indigo robes fluttering in the morning breeze.

Listening to the passing disciples sneer and mock Li Yan’s name, Li Wei felt as if he were floating on celestial clouds. His lips were curved into a broad, self-satisfied smile, and the white jade thumb ring on his hand spun smoothly between his fingers.

Li Yan, ah, Li Yan, Li Wei laughed coldly in his heart, his eyes shimmering with dark venom. You thought taking the Sect Master as your teacher would allow you to step on my head? Now you have become a useless cripple! Just wait until Father hears of this. When you are expelled from the sect, I will see what arrogance you have left when you are dragged back home and discarded like trash!

Far from the poisonous chatter of the outer courtyards, the inner sanctuary of Fu Hanzheng’s residence remained shrouded in tranquil morning mist.

Deep within the private medicinal pavilion, the atmosphere was heavy with the pungent, suffocating scent of concentrated spirit herbs.

At the center of the stone hall stood a massive, ancient three-legged bronze cauldron. It was half the height of a grown man, its exterior carved with archaic beast runes that faintly shimmered with spiritual light. Beneath the cauldron, purple spirit flames burned steadily, heating the thick, dark-amber broth bubbling within.

Stems of Dragon-Bone Vine, crushed Iron-Marrow Roots, and ancient Golden-Thread Ginseng churned in the boiling liquid, releasing thick, scalding vapor that made the surrounding air distort from sheer thermal pressure.

Anyu stood beside the cauldron with a wooden ladle, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. His honest face was full of deep apprehension as he looked at the roiling, murky medicinal broth.

Fu Hanzheng stood with his hands tucked into his sleeves, his gaze fixed solemnly on Li Yan, who had just arrived clad in loose white linen robes.

"Master," Li Yan greeted, bowing respectfully.

Fu Hanzheng gestured toward the bubbling cauldron. The relaxed, teasing smile he usually wore when drinking tea had vanished without a trace, replaced by the profound, stern aura of an ancient grandmaster.

"Yanyan, inside this cauldron is the Nine-Turn Bone-Tempering and Marrow-Cleansing Broth," Fu Hanzheng explained in a deep, reverberating tone.

"It is brewed from seventy-two kinds of brutal, masculine spirit herbs and reinforced with the essence of ancient earth beast marrow. Its medicinal potency is domineering and tyrannical to the extreme."

Fu Hanzheng paused, stepping closer to Li Yan, his sharp eyes piercing straight into his disciple’s soul.

"In ordinary circumstances, a disciple undergoing body tempering would circulate their internal spiritual Qi to form a protective film over their inner organs and meridians, slowly absorbing the medicinal strength through their pores. But you... you wear the Sealing Phoenix Jade. You cannot circulate a single thread of Qi."

Beside them, Anyu’s hands tightened around his wooden ladle, his voice trembling with worry. "Master... without spiritual Qi to protect his internal organs, entering this cauldron means bearing the unadulterated fury of the medicinal broth with pure mortal flesh! That kind of agony... even an iron-willed core disciple might have their dao heart broken from the pain!"

"Anyu speaks the truth," Fu Hanzheng nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Li Yan’s face. "The medicinal energy will tear into your skin, seep through your flesh, and hammer into your bones like ten thousand blazing steel needles. It will scrape away mortal impurities from your marrow and reforge your physical vessel from the inside out. The pain is akin to having your flesh peeled and your bones ground into powder while you remain wide awake."

Fu Hanzheng sighed softly, a trace of reluctant hesitation surfacing in his voice.

"If you cannot endure it, you will faint within three breaths. If your willpower wavers, the ferocious medicinal potency will turn against you, and you will suffer grievous internal trauma. Yanyan... this is not a path for ordinary mortals. Are you truly prepared to step into this furnace?"

Li Yan looked at the churning, boiling broth in the bronze cauldron. The scalding vapor rose before his eyes, stinging his skin with fierce heat.

Agony?

Li Yan’s lips curved into a faint, self-deprecating smile.

In his previous life, he had been dragged through the cold mud of an alleyway, spat on by his own kin, and beaten to death with heavy wooden clubs. He remembered the sickening crunch of his ribs shattering one by one under brute force. He remembered the suffocating taste of his own warm blood flooding his throat while Li Wei’s cruel laughter echoed above him.

He had died in the freezing dirt like a discarded stray dog, powerless and broken.

Compared to the despair of dying with hatred burning in his marrow, what was a little physical pain?

This cauldron was not an executioner’s block; it was the forge that would smelt him into a weapon of retribution.

"Master," Li Yan spoke softly, his voice clear, calm, and utterly devoid of fear.

"A jade that is not carved cannot become an exquisite vessel. If this disciple cannot even endure the heat of a single cauldron, how could I ever have the qualification to stand above the Nine Heavens?"

Hearing those words, Fu Hanzheng’s pupils contracted slightly, a profound light flashing in the depths of his eyes.

Without waiting for another command, Li Yan untied the outer sash of his robe.

He stripped down to a simple pair of white inner trousers, revealing a slender, fair frame that looked as delicate as carved mutton-fat jade.