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

The back gate was ajar, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Sun Geng raised his hand and knocked twice. A voice from inside the door said "Come in." He then pushed the door open and closed it tightly behind him.

In the center of the training room, Liu Changqing stood as still as a deep mountain.

The old wooden stake behind him, as thick as a bowl, was covered with fist marks, pitted and mottled, with several fresh cracks clearly visible, and still had undried wood shavings, clearly indicating that it had just been shaken out by a force.

"Stand still."

Sun Gengsan and Jiang Lan stood side by side, bowing and clasping their hands in unison: "Master."

Liu Changqing glanced indifferently at Sun Gengsan, then his gaze fell on Jiang Lan, lingering for a moment without any change in expression.

"It's been a long time since I've witnessed your progress in cultivation. Today, I'll test you on the spot." He took two steps back, clearing the space. "Jiang Lan, make the first move."

Jiang Lan calmly took off his outer robe, draped it over the weapon rack, and slowly walked to the center of the field to stand still.

With shoulders relaxed and elbows dropped, and spine straight as a pine tree, the body's energy instantly converges and returns to one.

The next instant, his right arm suddenly shot out, the force surging from the meridians of his shoulder blade, penetrating straight to his fingertips, tearing through the air with a clear and crisp sound.

The starting stance of the Crashing Mountain Tiger is characterized by a stable stance with the body firmly planted on the ground and eyes focused like an eagle's.

In the inch-force of collapsing mountains, the tiger swings and pounces with agility, while the inch-force that shakes mountains is heavy and powerful.

After slowly completing the three rounds of boxing, Jiang Lan's forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, which slid down his chin, but his breathing remained long and steady, without the slightest disorder, clearly showing that he had mastered the control of his strength.

Liu Changqing stood by with his hands behind his back, expressionless throughout, neither praising nor criticizing.

After Jiang Lan finished her stance and returned to her original position, she slowly spoke: "Your strength is sufficient, and your foundation is solid. Is your Yongquan acupoint still blocked?"

"Yes, I just can't get past the barrier." Jiang Lan answered truthfully.

"Come closer."

Liu Changqing raised his palm and placed it on Jiang Lan's Yongquan acupoint on the top of his head, his thumb suddenly pressing harder. A tingling, numb, and throbbing pain instantly shot straight to his brow and eye sockets, making his eye muscles tighten. Jiang Lan clenched his teeth, his body remaining motionless, letting the internal energy flow through his body. After three breaths, Liu Changqing released his hand and then lightly patted his Jianjing acupoint, a gentle internal energy flowing smoothly through him, relieving the stagnation.

"The acupoints are showing signs of loosening, but the final barrier is still missing," Liu Changqing said in a deep voice. "Your strength, posture, and internal energy have all crossed the threshold; all you lack is the right opportunity."

He looked at Jiang Lan, his tone carrying the wisdom of someone experienced in martial arts: "When it comes to opening acupoints, the most important thing is to avoid being impatient and rash. Some people are stuck for three to five years without making any progress, while others achieve success naturally once their mind is clear. It's not about forcing your way in, but about patiently waiting."

Jiang Lan nodded silently, keeping these words firmly in her heart.

"Sun Gengsan".

Sun Gengsan's punches were fierce and domineering, each move aimed at the extreme of power. However, when he was about to retract his fist in the third move, Jiang Lan saw it clearly—Sun Gengsan's right arm trembled slightly. It was not as if he was exhausted, but rather as if an old injury was aggravating his tendons and muscles, causing him to feel a dull pain inside.

Liu Changqing, being astute and astute, immediately ordered a halt in a deep voice.

Stepping forward, he grasped Sun Gengsan's wrist, precisely pressing his thumb against the Neiguan acupoint with a slight force.

"The internal injuries left from forcibly stimulating those seven acupoints last time?" Liu Changqing's tone was slightly somber.

Sun Gengsan lowered his head, his voice low and hoarse: "Exactly. At that time, I was too eager to succeed, and my strength went against my meridians, injuring the tendons in my right hand."

"How long have you been injured?"

"It has been four months."

Liu Changqing slowly released his grip, and the training room fell into a deathly silence. Only the evening breeze whistled through the cracks in the wooden stakes, making a faint, mournful sound that only amplified the oppressive atmosphere. Sun Geng stood with his hands hanging down, his whole body tense, his palms slightly damp, like a prisoner awaiting his final verdict, knowing that hidden injuries to his meridians were a major taboo for martial artists.

"From this day forward, for the next six months, all attempts at acupoint stimulation are strictly prohibited." Liu Changqing's words were steady and firm, like nails striking the ground. "The herbal medicine must not be interrupted, and your hands must be soaked in blood-activating powder every morning and evening for maintenance. You must not be lazy or perfunctory."

His gaze fixed on Sun Gengsan, and his tone suddenly became stern: "If the damage to your meridians is not thoroughly healed, and you rashly attempt to break through to the Xuan Guan again, it will not only be a failure and setback, but you will directly cripple your entire arm, and your path in martial arts will be completely cut off from then on."

Sun Gengsan pursed his lips, his expression somber, yet he still bowed and clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Disciple will remember Master's instructions."

Sun Gengsan's inner sharpness and obsession had quietly dissipated by more than half.

He had been forbidden from opening his acupoints for six months, and the martial arts examination was just around the corner. He had only one last chance to break through to the next level. Success would pave the way to fame and fortune; failure would mean a lifetime of obscurity, with no hope of ever rising again.

Liu Changqing stopped paying attention to the two men's expressions, turned around and walked to the wooden stake. He lightly placed his palm on the wooden surface, without using any strong palm force, but only using a slight force hidden in his palm.

A few breaths later, with a very slight flick of his wrist, wood chips fell from the back of the wooden stake with a soft "poof," while the palm print on the front remained completely intact, without a trace.

"Sun Gengsan, you need to understand this." Liu Changqing withdrew his hand and said calmly, "A martial artist's strength lies not in the weight of his punch, but in knowing where to land and how to control it. No matter how heavy the punch is, if it doesn't hit vital points or penetrate the muscles, it's all just a waste of effort."

He then shifted his tone, revealing a profound truth about survival in the martial arts world: "What you're learning right now is just about hitting the mark and breaking through defenses. What you really need to cultivate in the future is how to conceal your weaknesses and avoid your strengths, so that your opponents can't get close, and when you strike, you'll always have the upper hand."

That's all I have to say; there's no need to elaborate further. The martial arts world is never just about practicing fists; it's also about cultivating the mind, strategy, and self-preservation.

Liu Changqing turned around, opened the wooden cabinet in the corner, took out two oil paper packets, and tossed them to Jiang Lan and Sun Gengsan respectively.

"This month, take five Qi and Blood Pills each to calm the mind, nourish Qi, and solidify the foundation of internal energy."

Jiang Lan caught it; the oil paper package felt heavy in her hand and faintly emitted a medicinal fragrance.

It smelled like a Qi-nourishing pill, but since his master casually called it a Qi-blood pill, Jiang Lan didn't say anything and tucked it into his pocket.

"How much have you heard about Zhao Heng's affairs?" Liu Changqing suddenly changed the subject.

Sun Geng glanced at Jiang Lan subconsciously, remaining silent, unwilling to easily get involved in the feud between his sect and his master.

Jiang Lan calmly replied, "I only know that Senior Brother Zhao Heng suffered a ruptured tendon in his right arm and has been recuperating in his room."

"It's beyond saving." Liu Changqing's tone was calm, revealing no emotion. "All the famous doctors in the city have examined him. The major tendon in his right arm was severed in two places. At present, the best medical skills can only barely reconnect one of them. Even if the wound heals, his right arm will be difficult to exert force. He can barely do ordinary labor, let alone practice martial arts."

These words made the atmosphere in the training room even heavier. Sun Gengsan's Adam's apple bobbed, he hesitated, and finally let out a silent sigh. For a martial artist, losing their hands and feet is equivalent to losing half their life.

Liu Changqing's gaze fell on the wooden stake, his eyes distant, concealing a trace of barely perceptible guilt: "Cangsong Martial Arts School and I have a deep-seated grudge. That Japanese were seeking revenge against me and attacked me viciously. Zhao Heng took the fatal blow for me. In the end, I dragged him down with me."

Jiang Lan remained silent.

This sense of indebtedness and guilt is something no one can console or even respond to. In the world of martial arts, conflicts and grudges are always interconnected, with one small act having far-reaching consequences.

Just then, a sharp sound of a porcelain bowl shattering came from the backyard corridor, and medicine was spilled all over the ground.

Immediately following, Zhao Heng's hoarse and violent roar exploded, "Get away from me! Don't bother me!"

Liu Changqing's face darkened, and he turned and strode out of the room. Jiang Lan and Sun Geng followed closely behind, hurrying towards the side room.

The door to the side room was wide open, and the room was dimly lit. Zhao Heng sat slumped on the edge of the bed, barefoot. Broken porcelain lay scattered on the floor, and brown medicinal liquid spilled over the blue bricks, reaching the threshold.

His face was expressionless, but his eyes were bloodshot, filled with a frenzied, resentful rage.

Liu Yun stood at the doorway, holding a medicine pot, steam rising from its opening. Her cuffs were soaked with the medicine, and a small cut on her fingertip from a piece of broken porcelain caused blood to slowly seep out and drip onto the pot's lid. Ignoring her wound, she stood quietly, her expression calm and undisturbed.

"Liu Yun, you may step back now," Liu Changqing said in a low voice.

Liu Yun bowed her head in agreement and walked past Jiang Lan. She paused slightly as she passed the bed, but ultimately did not turn back.

"Junior Sister Liu," Zhao Heng suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse and piercing.

Liu Yun stopped, her back straight, without turning around.

"Now that I'm a cripple, do you look down on me in your heart too?"

"Junior Brother Zhao is overthinking it."

"The medicine is ready. Drink it while it's hot, and don't waste the time you need to recuperate."

After saying that, she slowly walked away, her footsteps fading into the distance and disappearing into the depths of the corridor.

Liu Changqing walked into the side room, stood by the bed, and remained silent, his back conveying an unspeakable heaviness.

Jiang Lan paused briefly at the door, unwilling to linger on this desolate and sorrowful scene, before turning and silently leaving. Sun Gengsan quickly followed, and the two walked through the corridor into the front courtyard.

Sun Gengsan suddenly stopped and lowered his voice, saying, "Zhao Heng is completely ruined."

Jiang Lan looked up at the deep twilight outside the door and remained silent.

"He used to be exceptionally talented and arrogant, never taking his peers seriously. He was one of Master's most valued disciples," Sun Gengsan said regretfully. "Now his martial arts are completely ruined, and Master's expectations and his own future have all vanished."

The fact that Cangsong Pavilion dared to cripple someone in public shows that it was not just a matter of personal revenge.

The feud is settled, the rift is irreparable...