Faced with Huang Shan’s scolding, if this were the old Leon Huang, he’d have shrunk back, acting all timid and scared.
But now, Leon Huang's soul is gone—replaced by Ian Song, who now inhabits his body.
He met Huang Shan’s sharp gaze without flinching. "Dad, I want to practice martial arts. I want to join the Pristine Way Sect!"
Huang Shan was stunned. How did his son—who’d always been a lazy troublemaker—suddenly flip his personality like this?
"Why do you want to train in martial arts?"
Ian’s face flushed with embarrassment, mixed with a little gritted-teeth frustration: "Yesterday, I got beat up by that woman. I lost face so badly—I have to get back at her and restore my dignity!"
"Idiot! What kind of nonsense is that? Are you saying you want to train just to fight women?" Huang Shan scolded again. His tone was still harsh, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes—his son was hopeless at both studies and martial arts, and honestly, his looks were...
If martial arts could slim him down, that’d be perfect.
"Doesn’t matter! I’m training in martial arts—and I’m joining the Pristine Way Sect!" Ian shouted.
Huang Shan paused for a moment, then said, "Training is fine—I’ll get two martial masters to teach you. But joining the Pristine Way Sect isn’t easy, so don’t get your hopes up!"
"Aren’t you the city lord? Would the Pristine Way Sect really dare turn me away?" Ian played dumb.
"Hmph!" Huang Shan snorted. "Ling State, Tianhe State, and Yan State are all under the Pristine Way Sect. I may look impressive as city lord, but I’m actually under their thumb. Their rules for recruiting disciples are super strict. If you had talent, I could risk my reputation and maybe get you in, but you’re just not cut out for it. No way they’d accept you!"
At this, Huang Shan couldn’t help but sigh: "To think I, Huang Shan, am so wise and mighty, and yet I ended up with a son like you. It’s really ‘tiger father, dog son!’"
"Seriously, how can you be so full of yourself?" Ian muttered under his breath.
"What’d you just say?" Huang Shan shot him a glare.
"Nothing!"
"Alright, I’ll set up your martial training. For the next two days, stay here and think about what you’ve done!"
With a dramatic sweep of his sleeve, Huang Shan marched out of the study.
But as soon as he turned away, the fierce look on his face melted into a huge, goofy grin.
Two days later, early morning.
On the City Lord’s mansion training ground, a fat figure was running laps around the field.
At the edge of the field, two young men dressed as servants glanced at the sweating Leon Huang, then began whispering to each other.
“Little Hu, why do you think our young master suddenly wants to train in martial arts?”
Little Hu curled his lip. “He must’ve been provoked!”
Little Wu nodded in agreement. “I think so too. But I bet our young master can last half an hour at most!”
“You’ve got guts, talking about the young master like that. But I say he’ll only last fifteen minutes!”
The two then burst out laughing, snickering together.
Out on the training ground, Leon Huang could feel sweat pouring from every pore. He’d only finished one lap, but his clothes were already soaked. Truthfully, slimming down to his usual figure would be easy for him, but that would be too shocking for this world. That’s why he’d asked Harold Huang for martial training.
This way, when he lost weight later, it wouldn’t seem so abrupt.
One lap!
Two laps!
Three laps!
Five laps!
Little Wu and Little Hu’s faces gradually shifted to shock, their mouths hanging open in disbelief.
At some point, Harold Huang appeared at the edge of the training ground.
“How long has the young master been running?”
“Ah!”
Hearing Harold’s voice, Little Wu and Little Hu quickly turned and bowed respectfully.
“Alright, no need for formalities!”
“Thank you, sir. The young master has already run five laps!” Little Hu reported.
Harold’s eyes lit up at this. Could it be his troublemaking son had really changed? He glanced over the field and saw that everywhere Leon had run was soaked with sweat. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of fatherly pride.
As soon as Harold appeared, Leon Huang noticed and subtly stopped letting his fat jiggle in that unnatural, controlled rhythm, restoring his normal appearance so the Grandmaster-level Harold wouldn’t notice anything strange.
The martial power in this world was truly impressive.
Just take his two close servants, Little Wu and Little Hu. Both had reached Qi-Refining level one, each possessing ten thousand jin of strength. With the boost from mysterious qi and martial skills, a single punch could reach at least twenty thousand jin.
After two more laps, Leon deliberately panted heavily and walked to the edge of the field, barking at his two servants, “Why are you just standing there? Get me some water and a towel!”
“Yes, sir! Right away!”
The two quickly put on flattering smiles, grabbed a towel and some cool water, and hurried over.
“Young master, please wipe your sweat.”
“Young master, please drink some water!”
Leon grabbed the towel and wiped the sweat from his face, then took the cup and drained it in one go.
After a short rest, he started running laps again, leaving Little Wu and Little Hu staring at each other in shock—when had their young master ever been this hardworking?
In the blink of an eye, three days passed.
Over these three days, just by running laps, Leon lost thirty jin. He was already looking much better.
On the fourth day…
Leon was still running laps on the training ground when Harold Huang arrived, dressed in a loose training robe.
“You brat, stop running and get over here!”
“Dad, what’s up?” Leon jogged over, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and flicked it away.
Harold straightened his back and announced proudly, “Since you’ve actually been working hard, I’ve decided to personally teach you martial arts!”
“Heh, like it’s some big honor,” Leon muttered under his breath.
Hearing this, Harold exploded, “You ungrateful brat! Do you know how many people beg me in tears to take them as disciples? I always refuse! If you weren’t my son, with your lousy talent, I wouldn’t teach you even if you knelt and begged!”
“So you’re really that amazing, huh?” Leon asked, feigning ignorance.
“In New Dawn City, there are fewer than ten people who can stand against me!” Harold said smugly.
“Tsk, I thought you were the number one expert under heaven!” Leon teased.
“You brat, I’ll split you in two!” Harold roared.
That night, the city was silent. In his room, a single candle burned as Leon sat cross-legged on his bed, cultivating the Sunflare Art Harold had taught him.
This Sunflare Art was very different from martial arts techniques in the modern world.
In the modern world, martial arts manuals before the innate stage all focus on refining essence into qi. Only after reaching the innate realm can one draw in the world’s spiritual energy.
But Sunflare Art used a special breathing method to directly absorb heaven and earth spiritual energy, nourishing and tempering the body. Only when the body was refined to a certain degree would true qi naturally arise.
With each breath, Leon felt vast amounts of spiritual energy pouring into his body, tempering his flesh.
The spiritual energy in this world was incredibly abundant, no weaker than secret realms, and even a bit stronger.
The Body-Refining realm had nine stages, and most people measured progress by raw strength.
A five-hundred-jin punch meant Body-Refining stage one.
A thousand jin meant Body-Refining stage two.
Two thousand jin was Body-Refining stage three.
Four thousand jin for Body-Refining stage four.
Five thousand jin for Body-Refining stage five.
…
Nine thousand jin meant Body-Refining stage nine.