Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

Jiang Lan returned to the courtyard in Shijing Lane and bolted the door.

Cheng Erniang was folding clothes in the east room when she heard the noise and poked her head out: "You're back?"

"Um."

Jiang Lan went into his room and closed the door. He took out the items he had taken from Black Tiger from his pocket and placed them on the table one by one.

The silver pieces, about sixty taels in total. They were stacked one ingot at a time, of decent quality, enough to pay off the remaining balance owed for the house purchase.

There were seven dark brown pills wrapped in oiled paper. He picked one up and brought it close to his nose to smell it; it had a fishy smell of angelica and tiger bone.

Peiyuan Pill—a product of the Black Tiger Gang. He had seen Huo Yuanlong's men take similar pills; they could replenish qi and blood and aid in the flow of qi and blood. He rewrapped it in the original paper and put it in the drawer.

Finally, there was that sheepskin.

Jiang Lan unfolded the sheepskin and placed it on the table. Moonlight filtered through the window paper, but it wasn't bright enough, so he lit an oil lamp.

Several small figures were drawn on the sheepskin, and densely written words were next to them. It wasn't some kind of martial arts or swordsmanship, but a method for tempering the internal organs. The first four words were written: "Internal Strength of the Internal Organs."

He looked down.

This skill is divided into three levels.

The first level involves inhaling air into the abdomen using a special breathing technique, focusing the breath into the dantian (lower abdomen), and inhaling air into the stomach and intestines. Once mastered, this strengthens the internal organs, enabling them to withstand the impact of ordinary punches and kicks.

The picture depicts a person sitting cross-legged with a bulging abdomen, accompanied by the caption "The sound is like the croaking of a frog, and the qi flows through the middle jiao (middle abdomen)."

The second level involves shaking the five internal organs. The breath sinks downwards, shaking the dantian and affecting the liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys. Once mastered, the internal organs are as if wrapped in a layer of cowhide, impervious to even the heaviest blows from a qigong master, and capable of neutralizing 30% of the penetrating force of the opponent's attack.

The picture shows a person being punched in the abdomen, with the words "Penetrating force but causing no injury" written next to it.

The third level is Thunderous Marrow Cleansing. It involves using breath to guide the vibration of bones and bone marrow, producing a buzzing thunderous sound that can cleanse the body of impurities and make the blood and qi more vigorous.

The picture depicts a person radiating heat, with the words "Immunity to heat and cold, freedom from all diseases" written beside it.

Jiang Lan looked at the three floors twice, and a flash of inspiration struck her—

[Internal Strength of the Internal Organs (Beginner): 0/100]

nice one!

He wasn't unfamiliar with methods of internal strength cultivation; Liu Changqing had mentioned it briefly in the diagram of the foundation of internal strength, saying that "methods of internal strength cultivation are mostly found in superior martial arts, and cannot be taught by ordinary martial arts schools."

But what's recorded on this sheepskin is exactly that kind of thing.

In a fight, the internal organs are the most dangerous part. Skin and flesh can be healed, and broken bones can be repaired, but if the internal organs are shattered, the person is gone.

Having this skill is like having an extra means of survival.

But he couldn't take this thing to the martial arts school to practice; there were too many people and too many eyes around Liu Changqing, and its origin was unclear.

I practice at home, at night, and nobody knows.

He carefully put the sheepskin away and placed it under his pillow.

After noon, Jiang Lan took a Qi-Nourishing Pill and went out to the martial arts school.

It wasn't far from Taiping Street to the martial arts school, about a quarter of an hour's walk. It was the height of summer, the sun was scorching, the bluestone pavement was burning hot, and a visible wave of heat hung in the air. Although he walked quickly, his back was still soaked with sweat.

In the courtyard of the martial arts school, the disciples stood scattered about. Some were practicing their punches, while others were taking shelter under the big locust tree. The water bucket next to the weapon rack was mostly empty, and a puddle of water on the ground quickly evaporated.

"Junior Brother Jiang is here." Several disciples looked up and greeted him.

Jiang Lan nodded and walked to the wooden stake she often practiced on.

He chewed and swallowed the Peiyuan Pill, then stood in a stance, shoulders relaxed and elbows dropped, his arms outstretched like a monkey's. The medicinal power spread from his stomach, heat surged to his limbs and bones, and his blood and qi were much stronger than usual.

He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, feeling the energy rising from his dantian, passing through the danzhong point, and reaching the Tiantu point—the Baihui point was still blocked, but the feeling of distension seemed to have loosened a little.

He practiced the Mountain-Crushing Fist twice, sweat beading on his forehead. He stopped, walked to the water bucket, scooped up a bowl of cool water, and leaned against the locust tree to drink it.

Several disciples nearby were talking quietly. He didn't pay attention at first, but when he heard the name "Zhao Heng," he put down his bowl.

"Have you heard? Senior Brother Zhao's arm is getting better."

"Really? Wasn't it said that the tendon was torn?"

"My master invited a traveling doctor from the north of the city, I forgot his surname, but he gave me a prescription. Sun Shun said that after applying the medicine for a few days, the swelling went down a lot and he could move his fingers again."

"You can move now? Doesn't that mean there's hope for recovery?"

"Who knows? But it's better than before. The doctor said it would be good if we could save my hand, but now the tendons are starting to grow back."

Jiang Lan held the bowl, pondering to herself.

He had seen Zhao Heng once. His arm was swollen and bruised, and his fingers were curled up and couldn't be straightened. Liu Changqing said that three bones were broken and the tendons were also torn. Even if they were set, he would never be able to practice martial arts again.

How long has it been, and it's already starting to grow?

He stood up, walked over to Sun Gengsan, and called out, "Senior Brother Sun."

Sun Gengsan was wiping the weapon rack when he turned around and saw him. He straightened up and asked, "Junior Brother Jiang, what's wrong?"

"Is Senior Brother Zhao's injury showing any improvement?"

Sun Gengsan's eyes lit up, and he lowered his voice: "You've heard about it too?"

"Master hired a doctor surnamed Yang from the north of the city. His prescription was quite effective. After applying the medicine for a few days, Zhao Heng's swelling subsided by more than half, and he could hook his fingers again."

"Dr. Yang said that the tendons are growing. At this rate, after two or three months of rest, he may not be able to practice martial arts, but he will be able to do daily activities without any problems."

"Didn't they say before that the tendon was torn and couldn't be repaired?"

Sun Gengsan scratched his head: "Maybe the previous diagnosis was wrong? Anyway, he's much better now. Master is very happy, and his complexion has improved these past few days."

Jiang Lan nodded, returned to the locust tree, finished the remaining cold water, and placed the bowl on the stone stool.

He was thinking about something: he had seen Zhao Heng's injury with his own eyes. That arm was swollen as thick as his thigh, the bone was broken, and the tendons were torn.

Could a traveling doctor from the north of the city really regenerate severed tendons with just a few prescriptions? Liu Changqing had previously consulted two doctors in town, both of whom said there was no hope.

Either the two previous doctors misdiagnosed him, or there was something unusual about this Dr. Yang.

He didn't think much of it; it wasn't his business.

……

The sun was setting, and people gradually left the martial arts school. Jiang Lan packed her things and walked out of the school gate.

Walking down Changping Street, he put his hands in his sleeves, his fingertips touching the oil paper package of Peiyuan Dan.

Go home and practice that internal organ strength technique.

Let's practice the first level first.

As for Zhao Heng's injury—we'll just have to wait and see.