Liu Tang paced the room, hands behind his back, and said, “Bedding and such will be prepared for you soon. Those rags you had in the second-class yard? Toss them.”

He pulled a set of brand-new short tunic clothes from the bed. “Put these on. You’re in the east building now—no more looking like a pauper.”

Xiangzi glanced at the patches on his own clothes, embarrassed. “Yes, Brother Tang.”

Without hesitation, he changed on the spot.

The upper half was a coarse cloth jacket, the lower a pair of wide lantern pants, legs tightly bound with straps.

On Xiangzi’s broad frame, they made Liu Tang’s eyes light up. What a fine physique.

Shame he’s already eighteen.

Liu Tang kept that thought to himself.

He was still pondering Fourth Master’s intentions.

Fourth Master always acted with purpose.

By Harmony’s rules, guards had to have broken through the vitality barrier.

Fourth Master prized rules above all, yet he’d placed Xiangzi in the east building, forcing Liu Tang to think deeper.

“Stance training is the foundation for a martial artist’s form, qi, and spirit,” Liu Tang said sternly, hands behind his back. “Head upright, neck straight, shoulders relaxed, elbows dropped, chest in, back stretched, waist loose, hips down, tailbone tucked.”

Before him, a dozen burly men stood in perfect horse stances.

Liu Tang’s skills came from Baolin Martial Hall, rooted in northern styles, emphasizing stance and footwork. Thus, the east building guards spent half their days training their lower body.

Most had followed Liu Tang for years, their stances and steps second nature, moving fluidly even with stone weights.

Xiangzi, though, was floundering.

Without weights, his stance was riddled with errors.

Liu Tang taught the four-square horse stance, simple in appearance but demanding immense lower body strength and coordination.

With his Rickshaw Puller

profession at minor mastery, Xiangzi’s strength wasn’t lacking, especially in his legs.

Back in the teahouse, he’d shrugged off a Ma Liu thug’s force with a single shoulder dip.

In raw power, he matched those who’d broken the vitality barrier.

But with no martial foundation, his brute strength lacked coordination.

His movements were clumsy and stiff, paired with a serious face that looked almost comical.

Many guards stifled laughs at the sight.

If not for Liu Tang’s strict discipline, their mockery would’ve spilled out.

A third-class puller who hasn’t even awakened his vitality, thinking he’s somebody in the east building?

“Xiangzi, control your breathing, focus your intent on your dantian,” Liu Tang said gravely. “The vitality barrier is a martial artist’s first hurdle. Breaking it doesn’t rank you, but it’s a glimpse of the martial path.”

“For us common folk, only stance training can build vitality to break the barrier.”

His words were aimed at Xiangzi.

After all, in the entire east building, only Xiangzi hadn’t broken the vitality barrier.

Liu Tang’s brows furrowed.

A whole morning had passed, and Xiangzi’s stance was still a mess. His fine physique moved like a rusted machine, stiff and awkward.

Sweat poured down Xiangzi’s forehead, his dark face flushed purple.

Liu Tang patted his shoulder. “Don’t rush. Rest if you’re tired.”

Xiangzi’s sweat-soaked jacket clung to him, but he shook his head, eyes narrowed.

Liu Tang sighed inwardly. Truth be told, Xiangzi learns fast, but years of pulling a rickshaw with rigid postures have stiffened his joints.

In martial terms, his bones and tendons are wasted.

Martial training was no easy feat. Even the basics—stretching tendons, tempering bones, awakening vitality—required starting young.

Every guard in this yard had built their foundation from childhood.

At eighteen, Xiangzi was starting late.

Not entirely hopeless, though.

If he could break the vitality barrier before twenty, the surge of vitality flooding his limbs might loosen his joints.

But after twenty, with those pathways sealed, hope would fade.

Even Liu Tang gave a self-mocking smile at the thought.

Easy to say. For ordinary folk, the vitality barrier was a chasm.

Why else did the second-class pullers stare longingly at the east building?

Was it because they didn’t want braised pork?

No—they were stuck at the vitality barrier.

Though only a prerequisite to becoming a true martial artist, not even a ranked threshold, the vitality barrier emphasized robust vitality coursing through the body’s channels. There were shortcuts.

Expensive medicinal brews or demon beast flesh from the mine outskirts could boost vitality.

In other words, with enough wealth, one could force their way through.

But Xiangzi, a regular guard, couldn’t afford such things.

For commoners, stance training was the only path.

Mastery of stance training could break the vitality barrier.

Liu Tang glanced at the sweat-drenched Xiangzi, a trace of regret in his eyes.

As the saying went, the poor study letters, the rich train martial arts. The martial path needed money to pave.

Mastering stance training in two years?

That speed would earn the title prodigy even at Baolin Martial Hall.

Even the brilliant Lin Junqing took half a year to master stance training and break the vitality barrier.

Liu Tang himself? Three full years.

By east building rules, morning stance training lasted one hour.

When the hour ended, Liu Tang left.

As a ninth-rank bone-tempering martial artist, he had his own training.

The guards dispersed in twos and threes.

In the end, under the early spring sunlight, only a sweat-soaked figure remained in the east building courtyard.

Amid the guards’ pointing and whispers, Xiangzi’s face stayed solemn, repeating his clumsy, laughable movements.

Suddenly, a ding sounded in his mind.

[Four-Square Horse Stance +1]

[Progress: 1/100 (Beginner)]

In that instant, Xiangzi’s awkward movements gained a subtle harmony.

A faint heat rose from his abdomen.

At his dantian, a wisp of qi swirled faintly.

Xiangzi’s face lit up.

Could this be vitality awakening?

As the heat spread to his limbs, his fatigue eased, his movements lighter.

Was his strength growing?

Xiangzi slowed, easing out of the stance.

Looking around, the onlookers had vanished.

He walked to a locust tree two men could barely encircle, held his breath, and mimicked the stance’s qi flow. With a stomp, he lashed out.

His sturdy leg blurred into an afterimage, striking the tree.

A bang echoed.

Locust blossoms fell like rain as Xiangzi stared at the tree.

A half-inch dent was embedded in the trunk.

This leg strength was leagues beyond before.

Joy surged in Xiangzi’s heart.

Martial training is the true path.

His lips twitched a moment later.

Ouch!