Chapter 4 The Tempering Begins

Chapter 4

The clouds drifted low across the slopes of Cloudveil Peak, their bellies swollen with mist and silence. A gentle wind swept through the Eastern Wing, brushing past abandoned courtyards and shuttered lanterns, rustling through the peach blossom branches just outside Lin Feng's window.

He sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, the ancient scroll from his father spread before him. The edges of the parchment fluttered faintly, as though whispering secrets to him alone.

The Iron Body Forging Technique.

He had read through its overview last night, but only now did he begin to understand its depths. It wasn't a single technique but a path of pain, broken into three grand stages-Minor, Major, and Perfection.

Each stage was further divided. Six sub-stages under Minor, six under Major, and five under Perfection.

His eyes lingered on the brush-stroked characters that described the first sub-stage of the Minor Stage: Bone Tempering.

> "The bones must be shattered within and reforged anew. Through spiritual herbs and the burning of one's essence, the marrow is reborn."

Lin Feng exhaled slowly. "Shattered within, huh..."

Just then, the wooden doors creaked.

A familiar silhouette stepped in-tall, firm, dressed in light robes of cloud-gray silk. Lin Tianhai, his father.

Lin Feng stood quickly. "Father."

The man didn't speak at first. His gaze swept the empty room, the half-rolled scroll, the tension in his son's shoulders.

Without a word, he walked forward and placed a small black box on the floor before Lin Feng.

Inside it, wrapped in layers of sealing paper and soft cloth, were three spiritual plants-each glowing faintly with qi.

> Crimson Root Orchid, to soften the bones and prepare them for refinement.

Bone-Fire Grass, known to stimulate marrow regeneration.

Gray-Scaled Lotus, an extremely rare stabilizing plant, essential to surviving the intense pain.

Lin Feng's breath caught.

"These will carry you through the first three sub-stages of the Minor Stage," Tianhai said finally. "I made arrangements... once."

Lin Feng opened his mouth to speak, but his father raised a hand.

"This will be the last time."

Silence hung between them. A quiet wind hissed under the door.

Tianhai's voice lowered, his back now turned. "There are limits to what I can give. The heavens may be unjust, but they are not sentimental. If you wish to rise, you must do so with your own hands."

He began walking away, but paused at the doorway.

"I hope... these are enough."

Then he left.

Lin Feng remained still. Only the flickering shadows of the peach blossoms danced across his floor.

He reached down, carefully unwrapped the spiritual plants, and set them in a triangular pattern before him. The Crimson Root Orchid pulsed with warmth. He took it first-crushing it between his palms, letting the juice smear down his arms. Then he swallowed a sliver of its root.

Warmth spread into his chest. A strange numbness crawled into his limbs.

Next, the Bone-Fire Grass. He chewed the brittle stalk, and immediately his veins flared hot, as if someone had poured molten iron into his marrow.

His jaw clenched. His back arched.

And then, he began the process.

The Iron Body Forging Technique didn't require a Martial Soul to circulate energy. Instead, it forced qi to move through physical strain-guided by sheer will. Lin Feng drove the gathered energy into his bones. Every breath was like dragging a rusted blade across the inside of his ribcage.

CRACK!

He fell to his side, coughing.

His bones weren't breaking outward-but within. Hairline fractures invisible to the eye. Tiny, countless fissures throughout his arms and spine. The pain wasn't sharp-it was deep, constant, like a dull hammer pounding in rhythm with his heart.

Hours passed. His robes were drenched in sweat. His vision blurred.

He rolled over, dragged himself back upright, and chewed a petal of the Gray-Scaled Lotus.

Immediately, a wave of cool qi spread through him, stabilizing the chaos in his marrow. He groaned-eyes wide, body twitching from the shock.

"Just a little longer..." he muttered through clenched teeth.

His entire skeleton now felt like burning gravel grinding against itself. His breath became shallow. His stomach screamed for food. His head buzzed.

But he endured.

He bit his tongue until he tasted blood. Forced the technique to cycle again. Let the spiritual energy pour into the cracked bones, fusing and reshaping.

Time lost meaning.

When at last the pain began to dull, when the sensation in his spine returned, Lin Feng collapsed backward, chest heaving.

He had entered the First Sub-Stage: Bone Tempering.

The next day, sunlight filtered through the old windowpanes. Lin Feng sat with a cup of warm tea, his hands still trembling.

He had barely slept.

The second stage, Vein Purification, was no easier. He used the leftover juice from the Crimson Root Orchid to stimulate his blood channels. Then, with shredded Bone-Fire Grass and lotus residue brewed into a bitter paste, he forced it down and began circulating his internal qi.

Unlike the first, this one wasn't about pain in the bones.

It was the burning of the blood itself.

His veins bulged-some turned purple, others almost black. His chest seized in spasms. His breath came in ragged gasps as he meditated, guiding the surging power through every channel like molten lightning.

Several times, he nearly passed out.

But by dusk, after hours of gasping and sweat, he stabilized again.

Second Sub-Stage: Vein Purification.

That evening, he lit a single lantern.

It flickered. His shadow danced across the floor.

He moved on to the Third Sub-Stage: Muscle Tempering.

This required movement-actual exertion.

He crushed the last of the Gray-Scaled Lotus and spread its juices along his arms and legs. Then, gritting his teeth, he began a series of slow, methodical strikes against the wall-first fists, then elbows, then his shoulders.

Every strike sent vibrations into his muscles. Every repetition left bruises. He didn't stop.

Hours passed. The lantern burned low.

He pushed himself to the edge of collapse.

And then, only then-when he was on the verge of unconsciousness-did he stumble out into the courtyard.

There stood an old willow tree, its bark soft from age.

Lin Feng clenched his fist.

With a shout, he struck.

Thump!

A dull blow. The bark cracked slightly.

Just a shallow dent.

Lin Feng lowered his fist, breathing hard.

He stared at the mark for a long moment.

Then he exhaled sharply.

"This isn't enough," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "I need to train harder."

Later that night, back in his chamber, he sat cross-legged and unrolled the Iron Body scroll again.

He scanned the text for the Fourth Sub-Stage of the Minor Stage: Organ Fortification.

> "Requires two plants: Hollow Jade Leaf and Golden Marrow Fruit."

He didn't have them. His chest ached. His stomach growled.

He looked toward the sealed black box. Empty now.

"I'll need to gather more..." he whispered.

But not tonight.

His body was trembling.

Just as he leaned back, the door creaked open.

Uncle Ming stepped in, carrying a wooden tray with steaming food and a soft towel.

"My young master," the old man said gently. "You haven't eaten all day."

Lin Feng blinked, then gave a weary smile.

"I suppose I haven't."

Uncle Ming placed the tray beside him, then sat a short distance away.

Silence settled between them.

Outside, the wind rustled the peach blossoms again. The world moved on, but here, in this forgotten wing, one youth forged his path-not with talent, but with pain.

And within that pain-

a flicker of something greater began to glow.