Uncle Jie froze, stunned that this puller knew such things.

His face dimmed, voice heavy with resignation. “For us common folk, breaking the vitality barrier is already like our ancestors’ graves smoking.”

“That bone-tempering broth? Only martial halls have it. Where’d we get it?”

With that, his enthusiasm faded, and he shuffled out of the training hall, back slightly hunched.

Xiangzi stood still, brows knitted.

Two hurdles to martial arts: the vitality barrier, which his stance progress made achievable, and the bone-tempering barrier, which sounded troublesome.

At least the bone-tempering broth was exclusive to martial halls.

Xiangzi suddenly understood why Forty-Nine City’s martial halls held such lofty status.

They must have monopolized the broth’s recipe.

After dinner in the east building courtyard, Xiangzi hurried to the front yard.

He’d agreed with Fourth Master Liu that, even as a guard, he’d keep handling the books.

Seeing him arrive, Fourth Master Liu looked him over, chuckling. “Cleaned up, you look the part.”

“All thanks to your favor, Fourth Master.”

Xiangzi clasped his fists, took the ledgers from Girl Hu, and checked them by candlelight.

Fourth Master Liu, seeing his usual diligence, felt reassured and regarded him higher.

In his years in South City, he’d seen plenty of young men lose their way with a taste of power.

Someone as measured as Xiangzi was rare.

After finishing the books, night had deepened.

By the faint light of a crescent moon, Xiangzi practiced stances under the locust tree for another hour, returning to his room soaked in sweat.

Twisting the copper pipe, murky water gushed out, and he took a refreshing cold bath.

Back in the second-class yard, he’d queued for a basin of water. How could that compare to the east building’s private pipes?

And after bathing, the soft cotton bedding was a delight.

A month after crossing over, Xiangzi finally exhaled, feeling a rare ease.

But he didn’t slack on training.

As Uncle Jie said, failing to break the vitality barrier before his frame set at twenty would waste everything.

He wondered what those “vitality-boosting recipes” Uncle Jie mentioned were and where to buy them.

No rush yet—with only fifteen silver dollars, he couldn’t afford much.

Sighing, Xiangzi sank into the warm bedding and slept deeply.

Free from the second-class yard’s smelly kang, he slept soundly.

From then on, Xiangzi trained stances in the morning, practiced martial arts in the afternoon.

Always the first to the training hall, the last to leave.

Even after tallying books at night, he’d practice stances and footwork.

Aside from eating, all his time went to training.

At first, Uncle Jie cautioned, “Don’t overdo it, young man.” But seeing Xiangzi’s resolve, he stopped, instead helping with stretches.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Liu Tang taught Thunder-Rushing Fist and Wind-Chasing Kick.

Fancy names, but just a dozen moves combined.

Xiangzi took two or three days to log them into his panel.

With the panel’s aid and a month’s hard training, his forms grew polished, earning respect from guards who’d broken the vitality barrier.

Some clumsier ones even sought Xiangzi’s advice on techniques.

Xiangzi taught earnestly, holding nothing back.

Even Liu Tang, impressed by his diligence and learning, grew fond of him.

With the favor from delivering medicine earlier, Liu Tang occasionally sparred with Xiangzi, offering pointers.

During their bouts, Liu Tang was stunned by Xiangzi’s steady lower body—years of pulling rickshaws had built legs rivaling those who’d broken the vitality barrier.

Liu Tang mused privately, If Xiangzi breaks the vitality barrier, he might last a few moves against me.

Such rare talent—prime martial material!

Shame he’s nearing nineteen, his frame nearly set.

Liu Tang kept his sighs to himself. Had I met him years ago, I’d have sent this big fool to Baolin Martial Hall.

In this world, fists ruled.

With Xiangzi’s growing skill and Uncle Jie’s hometown bond, the other guards dropped their snide remarks.

Even the haughty Fat Yong treated Xiangzi politely.

Over time, Xiangzi’s days in the east building grew more comfortable.

Time flew, and a month passed in the east building.

As usual, Xiangzi received his monthly pay from Liu Tang.

Fifteen shiny silver dollars jingled in his pocket, filling him with quiet satisfaction, his lips curling up.

Liu Tang teased his money-hungry look. “Xiangzi, this is blood money. Don’t blow it on women like the others.”

Xiangzi grinned. “Got it, Master Tang. Women only slow my draw.”

Liu Tang blinked, then roared with laughter at the quip.

Young and approachable, Liu Tang never put on airs with the guards.

Xiangzi suddenly asked, “Master Tang, where can I buy vitality broth?”

Liu Tang paused, then said, “You’ve only trained a month. You don’t need broth yet…”

He stopped, eyes widening. “Wait… you’ve awakened vitality?”

Xiangzi nodded.

Liu Tang, shocked, pressed, “You sure? Felt a wisp of qi swirling in your dantian?”

By this world’s rules, before reaching “full vitality” to break the barrier, vitality had two stages: a wisp of qi, then a pillar of qi.

Xiangzi hesitated, then nodded. “I think so.”

Liu Tang’s brows furrowed.

Awakening vitality in a month?

That talent would stand out even at Baolin Martial Hall.

Even Liu Tang took three years at Baolin to awaken vitality.

Smiling, he patted Xiangzi’s shoulder. “Not bad. I underestimated you. Awakening vitality in a month?”

“You might just reach full vitality before twenty.”

“But vitality broth is pricey. Your two months’ pay might buy two doses. Be careful not to get scammed.”

He paused, grabbing a charcoal pencil, writing an address for Xiangzi and giving detailed advice.

Finally, he added, “Xiangzi, you can only take one dose a month, and it varies by person—like pouring into a bottomless pit. Think it through.”

His words were tactful, but Xiangzi understood.

With only a year to break the vitality barrier, Liu Tang feared he’d waste a year’s earnings for nothing.

Xiangzi smiled, saying no more.

After Liu Tang left, Xiangzi opened his panel.

[Four-Square Horse Stance (Minor Mastery)]

[Progress: 234/500]

In a month, his stance had reached minor mastery.

Beginner, minor mastery, major mastery, perfection—by this world’s four-tier ranking, he’d likely reach major mastery in another month or so.

And the vitality in his dantian? Far from the “wisp” Liu Tang assumed.

It was already a pillar!