Bengtie: My death fueled their madness.

Five days.

This is the time it took for Jingliu to complete an 80-mile run for the first time while acclimatizing to a load of 200 jin (100 catties) and a speed of no less than 40 li (20 km/h).

Every morning begins like the start of a predictable torture.

Exhaustion and complete unconsciousness are no different from losing half your life; that is the end.

The next day, all fatigue miraculously disappeared upon waking, and the process repeated.

Each time you lift your leg or swing your arm, the star iron sand devices on your limbs continuously release the weight that drags you down to the ground.

Sword training was interrupted for a few days as a result, which could be considered a blessing in disguise, and I could console myself with that.

Human adaptability and resilience often grow rapidly in harsh environments.

Finally, on the fifth day, Jingliu was able to stay awake and complete his morning run training.

She thought her master might praise her, but instead, she received a command that conveyed no emotion.

"You'll have two minutes to rest, then start practicing sword swings three thousand times. Oh, you can remove the weights from your hands and feet for now."

"..."

Jingliu's lips stiffened.

Having failed to complete the weighted long-distance run a few days ago, I naturally missed the sword-wielding training.

And at this stage, these three words... mean that they cannot be removed during subsequent sword-swinging training?

Her little face trembled slightly.

Looks like I'll be exhausted again tonight...

"Yes... Master!"

I wanted to protest, but in the end I swallowed my emotions.

She couldn't help but reminisce about the traditional challenge match during the Cloud Cavalry Camp tour before Cangcheng's fall, and the seemingly cold but actually warm-hearted Qi Xiaowei.

Compared to my current master... he's incredibly kind and approachable.

It's the same person, but their attitudes are completely different.

When it comes to training oneself, the word "strict" is simply inadequate; even "harsh" falls short.

but……

Thinking of certain things from the past, Jingliu felt incredibly conflicted.

How painful must it be for a master to kill a loved one who has fallen into demonic possession with his own hands?

She could roughly understand why her master had become like this.

Perhaps, the kindness and gentleness deep in the master's heart completely disappeared from the moment he killed his mother with his own hands.

All that remains is... endless hatred for the bountiful and wicked.

She and her master are in agreement on this matter.

We must not disappoint our master!

Jingliu clenched his fists, gripped his longsword, and gritted his teeth, striking a pose he knew all too well.

"one two three……"

As expected, he was so exhausted that he completely lost consciousness.

After that, it was Qi Zhimu's turn.

He was very familiar with this.

Only at this moment would Qi Zhimu shed his ruthless authority and tenderly embrace his disciple.

The next day, at the crack of dawn.

Jingliu stared blankly at his own fair and delicate hands, somewhat lost in thought.

My strength suddenly increased a lot... When I woke up, I accidentally pressed down on the edge of the bed and it collapsed.

Only now did she realize that if it were a short-lived species, these hands would probably have developed calluses long ago.

For people like us from Xianzhou, whose wisdom teeth grow back after extraction, there's no need to worry about skin damage.

After stroking the silver moon jade pendant around her neck for a moment, Jingliu got out of bed, quickly washed up, and entered the hall.

Breakfast was prepared as usual. After eating and resting for a while, the hellish training began.

He grabbed the bottle of pills from the table, put it in his pocket, and headed out to the training ground.

It was tough, but she had gotten used to it.

In the training ground, the master was practicing his horse stance as always.

The only difference is that her horse stance is for sword practice, while her master's stance is for bearing weight, remaining as immovable as a mountain.

Today, what Master is carrying on his shoulders is not a cylindrical steel cylinder, but two golden gatekeeper figures...

The sight of a human carrying two machines far exceeding his own weight, motionless, is somewhat terrifying.

Whenever Jing Liu saw Qi Zhimu's even more terrifying morning exercise routine, he would hypnotize himself that the suffering he endured was nothing.

This is a major source of motivation for her to grit her teeth and persevere every day.

Seeing my master's figure gives me the strength to persevere longer.

Good morning, Master.

"Um."

Upon hearing the response, Jingliu consciously put on his arm and leg guards, took a deep breath, and began training.

The morning sun sheds its shyness, peeking out from the horizon and rising steadily.

The warm, pleasant lighting cast a dreamlike glow over the martial arts arena, illuminating the master and apprentice.

The shadows stretched long beneath the green trees surrounding the track, and birds began to sing melodious tunes from the trees.

Among the various sounds of nature, the slightly rapid breathing of the camera gradually became more prominent.

The leaden weight that once weighed on her hands and feet no longer poses an unbearable burden.

In less than an hour, he completed what used to be a grueling training session in one go.

When he stopped and gasped for breath, Jingliu was still in a daze, feeling a bit unreal.

"Take a three-minute break. Starting today, the training will include 3,000 sword swings while wearing weighted equipment."

Qi Zhimu helped Jing Liu regain his senses in a second.

Jingliu's face fell. He silently took out a small bottle from his pocket, poured out a pill, and swallowed it.

The dry mouth and throat sensation quickly disappeared.

The weighted long-distance run was completed, but the weighted sword-wielding...

Maintaining one posture for a long time is actually more uncomfortable than repeating the same movements for a long time.

To be honest, Jingliu had no confidence at all.

To put it simply, how is it possible to lift a barbell weighing over 100 pounds three thousand times continuously, and at a fast pace?

As it turns out, Jingliu was very self-aware.

She fell backward several times throughout the morning, injuring her back and hips quite badly.

I fell forward several times, and the skin on my arms was scraped and turned dark red in many places.

Finally—he fainted.

However, this time, Qi Zhimu did not treat her wounds, nor did he let her take a medicinal bath.

He simply waited for Jingliu to wake up, then tossed her a box of nutritionally balanced lunch, instructing her to eat, rest for a moment, and then continue training.

For the first time, Jingliu felt extremely tired and unwell when he woke up.

The pain was excruciating; even being hit by a starship traveling at 200 kilometers per hour might not have been as painful.

My hand holding the chopsticks trembled uncontrollably, and the food I brought to my mouth kept slipping away and falling back into the lunchbox.

Given this state, the outcome of continuing training is predictable.

The blazing sun slants down into the sky, while the crescent moon rises steadily, bringing the night with it.

The familiar evening breeze, the familiar medicinal bath.

There's also the familiar, half-dead Jingliu.

The girl's bare, fair back was pierced with more than a dozen silver needles. As Qi Zhimu twisted them between his fingers, the pain between his brows slowly disappeared.

Once the emerald green liquid in the wooden basin had cleared, it was the familiar process again.

The next morning at dawn, Jingliu went to the full-length mirror and took off his pajamas.

Twist it to the left, then twist it to the right.

My skin is moisturized and fair, with a healthy glow, without any scars or discomfort from injury or fatigue.

"What exactly did Master do to me last night...?"

My biology textbook says that the people of the Immortal Ship have a strong ability to recover, but not to this extent.

How can someone who's half-dead suddenly become full of energy after a good night's sleep?

Wait, that's not right, thinking about it carefully, it really exists!

…the demonic body…