Martial Arts: My talent multiplier increased

The stench of blood on the training ground had not yet dissipated.

Two medical staff from the Fang family rushed up the stone steps from the side of the platform, one carrying a medicine box and the other carrying a folding stretcher.

Fang Teng was turned over.

He was conscious. His eyes were open, his pupils could focus, and his lips were moving slightly. But from the neck down, the muscles of his entire torso were in a state of complete, uncontrolled spasm, and his limbs felt as if their bones had been removed.

As the medical staff lifted him onto the stretcher, Fang Teng gripped the wooden frame with his right hand. His knuckles turned white, but he only held on for a moment before letting go.

The stretcher was carried down the ramp on the north side of the platform. Fang Teng's gaze paused for a moment as it passed by Fang Yuan's side.

Fang Yuan didn't look at him.

It wasn't a deliberate avoidance; another medical worker was pressing her down to sit on the edge of the table, pulling open her left side of her clothes to examine her ribs.

"The second and third ribs have cracks, but they're not completely broken." The medical staff ran their fingers along the ribcage, their voice low. "They need splints to immobilize them, and at least rest—"

"Do it here."

Fang Yuan interrupted him.

The medical staff hesitated for a moment. "It's windy up there, go back inside—"

"Here it is."

Two words: There is no room for negotiation.

The medical staff gritted their teeth, rummaged through the medicine box and pulled out a roll of linen bandage soaked in medicine, beginning to wrap it around Fang Yuan's chest to secure it. As the bandage tightened, a sharp pain shot through the crack in his ribs, causing Fang Yuan's breath to catch in his throat, but his facial muscles remained unchanged.

Hundreds of people were watching.

Fang Yuan sat on the edge of the training platform, shirtless, as medical staff wrapped bandages around his body. The purplish-blue bruise on the left side of his chest was exposed to the sunlight.

He will not step down.

He wanted everyone to see that the winners were still sitting on the stage, while the losers had already been carried away.

This image is more convincing than any words.

On the west side of the stands, Fang Ping finally loosened his lip, which had been bitten until it bled. He wiped his face hard with his sleeve, removing whatever was possibly sweat or something else.

Fang Shi sat beside him, his hands on his knees, staring at Fang Yuan's back, which was wrapped in bandages.

No one spoke.

But Fang Shi stood up even straighter than before.

The high platform on the north side.

Third Elder Fang Shoude slowly stood up, leaning on the cane he had picked up.

He didn't go up the steps.

Descending the slope on the side of the platform, the cane tapped the ground with each step, making a sound, and headed straight for the medical area where the stretcher was placed.

Two medical staff were administering medicine to Fang Teng. A bowl of thick, dark broth was forced down his throat, and Fang Teng choked twice as the medicine dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining the white cloth on the stretcher.

Fang Shoude stood beside the stretcher and looked down at Fang Teng for a long time.

The medical staff tactfully took two steps back.

"The internal blood and qi imbalance is quite severe, but the meridians are not broken and the organs are not damaged," the older medical staff said respectfully. "With medication and bed rest, he can get out of bed in half a month to twenty days, and there will be no aftereffects."

Fang Shoude did not respond to the medical staff.

His hand rested on Fang Teng's shoulder, the pressure seemingly unpredictable. Fang Teng's eyes flickered, and his lips opened and closed again.

Fang Shoude let go and turned to walk towards the high platform.

His route back passed the martial arts arena.

Fang Yuan had just finished bandaging himself and was putting his clothes back on. The bandages were tightly binding his torso, making his movements somewhat stiff as he dressed.

Fang Shoude stopped two steps away from Fang Yuan.

The cane struck the blue brick with a dull thud.

Fang Yuan turned his head.

The two people looked at each other.

There is no language.

Fang Shoude's face was unreadable. The wrinkles on his old face were as deep as ravines, as if they had been carved out by time and calculation.

He nodded.

The range of motion was extremely small. It was as if the neck had accidentally relaxed slightly, only to immediately snap back into place.

Then he left. The sound of his cane tapping the ground became even again.

Fang Yuan watched his figure disappear down the steps of the high platform.

The Third Elder nodded. The medical staff beside him didn't understand, but Fang Yuan did.

In the Fang family's rules, when an elder nods to a younger person, it is not encouragement or praise, but acknowledgment.

Acknowledge that you are qualified to stand in this position, acknowledge that what you have is genuine.

Fang Shoude spent two months trying to prove that Fang Yuan was an accident. Today, he watched with his own eyes as his grandson knelt before Fang Yuan.

That nod wasn't voluntary.

But it's true.

Fang Yuan tightened the ties on his clothes. The crack in his left rib throbbed with a faint ache under the pressure of the bandage, but he could bear the pain.

On the other side of the platform.

Fang Shou'an was no longer in his seat.

He left through the side door. That narrow door was behind the platform, hidden by a screen, and easily missed if you weren't paying attention.

When Fang Shou'an stepped out of the side door, he was followed by two attendants. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor for a moment before disappearing around the corner.

He didn't greet anyone. He didn't leave any words. He didn't even glance in the direction of the martial arts arena.

Fang Shouzhen sat on the high platform, watching Fang Shouan's figure disappear from sight.

He knew his fourth brother too well.

Fang Shou'an wasn't admitting defeat. Fang Shou'an had never admitted defeat in his life. He was trying to stop the bleeding.

Having lost the bet, Fang Yuan secured full endorsement, legalizing his elixir business. Continuing to openly oppose Fang Yuan would only put them in a difficult position.

Take a step back, retreat, and wait for the next opportunity.

Fang Shou'an left, but Fang Shouzheng knew that the snake had simply changed its den.

South exit of the training ground.

Li Jue rose with ease. He straightened the hem of his long robe and left the empty teacup on the low table beside his seat. Two gray-robed guards followed him, one on each side.

They walked toward the archway at the south exit.

The archway is narrow, just wide enough for two people to pass side by side.

Fang Yuanshan stood right in the center of the archway.

His positioning was extremely delicate—he hadn't blocked the exit, but his body was angled slightly, close to the left side of the archway. Theoretically, there was still enough space on the right for one person to pass through.

However, Fang Yuanshan was in the mid-stage of the Bone Refining Realm.

He didn't need to reach out to stop people. Just by standing there, the pressure of his internal energy would naturally radiate outwards within a three-foot radius.

Li Jue slowed his pace by a beat when he was five steps away from the archway.

The pause was extremely brief, so brief that the gray-robed guard behind him didn't even notice.

But Fang Yuanshan noticed.

Li Jue started walking again, unhurriedly towards the passageway to the right of the archway. His shoulder was less than half a foot away from Fang Yuanshan's arm as he passed by Fang's body.

Fang Yuanshan didn't look at him. He didn't even blink.

But the pressure of the mid-stage Bone Refining Realm qi and blood, the moment Li Jue passed by, felt like an invisible wall pressed against his right side.

A heavy feeling seeped from the very marrow of my bones. It wasn't murderous intent, it was a warning.

Li Jue walked out of the archway.

The sound of footsteps faded into the distance on the stone path in the outer courtyard.

His expression remained unchanged throughout. His moon-white robe remained clean in the sunlight. However, the back of his inner garment, which clung tightly to the inside of the robe, was soaked with a thin layer of sweat.