My cultivation method shines upon all heavens.

He looked at the stone tablet again; the fist imprint was still there, but it had clearly lost its previous charm.

His eyes flickered slightly, and he tentatively peered at the scroll.

A surge of information suddenly flooded my mind:

"The Heavenly Heart Scroll allows one to imprint one's own heart onto the Heavenly Heart. Anything that bears the imprint of one's mind can be absorbed and refined for one's own use."

"The martial arts techniques recorded in this scroll can illuminate all the heavens. Those who cultivate these martial arts in all the heavens can contribute a trace of their cultivation progress to the scroll's owner..."

As Lu Ming processed the information in his mind, he stared blankly at the progress bar of "Raging Bull Fist" that kept jumping forward, and at the scattered insights that kept appearing in his mind.

"Refining the Heart Seal grants access to martial arts techniques? And allows one to reflect upon the heavens, borrowing the power of all living beings to cultivate oneself?"

The surprise came so suddenly that he didn't react for a moment.

In this chaotic world, martial arts skills are rare, and even more difficult to master.

Many people spend their entire lives without ever getting inside, and many who push the door open find it impossible to go any further.

Any martial artist who reaches the Skin Tempering Realm is eligible to be recruited by the government.

Wearing a tiger skin and holding a secure job, one can find a place to stay in this turbulent world.

Now that he possesses the Heavenly Heart Scroll, he no longer lacks sources of martial arts techniques.

Even more outrageous is that even if he lies still, the cultivation results of martial artists from all the heavens and myriad realms will continuously flow into him.

Automatic training. The effort of one day is equivalent to the hard work of others over several years or even decades.

Even though he was usually calm, he was overwhelmed with joy at this moment.

"No, it's not time to be happy yet."

He pinched his palm hard to suppress the turmoil in his heart.

When Xu Hong broke through to the Skin Tempering Realm, he must have been just as spirited.

But the result?

He was tempered at sixteen, failed the imperial examination for ten years, and finally, filled with resentment, he smashed his body into a stone tablet. Few people even remember his name anymore.

His current situation is probably even more dangerous than Xu Hong's back then.

The Zhang family sees him as a thorn in their side, Wang An is sharpening his knife and preparing to take action against him, demons are growing stronger outside the city, and he also has to protect his widowed mother at home...

The Skin Tempering Realm is far from enough.

Fan Wu, oblivious to all of this, was squatting on the ground, smoking his extinguished pipe, staring blankly at the wealthy young men in fine clothes not far away.

"Let's go, it's time to go in."

He got up, patted the mud off his backside, and spoke in a muffled voice.

Lu Ming responded, stood up, and walked side by side with him into the depths of the training ground.

When soldiers come, we'll block them; when water comes, we'll dam it. We can only take it one step at a time.

Inside the training ground, candidates had already formed several long queues at the entrance.

Two constables stood guard in front of a wooden table, on which lay a roster, and next to it was a stack of palm-sized bamboo number plates, their edges worn smooth.

Lu Ming gave his name, and the yamen runner flipped through the register and handed him a plaque engraved with "Bing Qi".

Fan Wu was holding "Ding Shier", and the two were two groups apart.

They crossed the fence and went deep into the training ground.

The so-called examination room was nothing more than a few rows of low tables temporarily erected. Behind each table was a low stool that creaked when you sat on it.

Dozens of candidates took their seats, and the room was filled with the noise of chairs being moved and low coughs.

The written test begins.

The hair was curled and the result was a thin sheet of yellow hemp paper, covered with densely packed black characters, with the vermilion official seal of Yinhu County government pressed in the corner.

The exam had few questions, but each one tested practical skills:

Excerpt from the "Mysterious Arrest Laws" promulgated by the Divine Arrest Bureau, detailing the types, habits, and weaknesses of common demons in the world...

He had already memorized these contents thoroughly, and when he picked up his pen and dipped it in ink, his writing flowed like a dragon in flight.

In less than half an hour, he put down his pen, carefully checked the paper from beginning to end, and after confirming that there were no errors, folded the paper in half, covered the name, and waited for the papers to be collected.

Half an hour later, a gong rang out, and all the candidates put down their pens.

A middle-aged constable carrying a bamboo basket began to collect the scrolls.

He had a sallow complexion, a wisp of mustache, and walked with a light, unsteady gait. His triangular eyes darted around.

When the test paper was presented to Lu Ming, he didn't stop walking and reached for it, but suddenly his foot slipped.

With a cry of "Ouch!", he staggered forward, nearly dropping the bamboo basket.

"Hey...you son of a bitch, are you blind?!"

The middle-aged constable barely managed to steady himself, turned around and glared at Lu Ming, causing several other examinees around him to turn their heads to look.

The instant Lu Ming stretched out his leg, he swiftly stuffed his exam paper into the bamboo basket to blend in, then hurriedly stood up and repeatedly clasped his hands in greeting:

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

The constable glanced around and, not wanting to cause any trouble, gave a cold snort and walked away with his bamboo basket.

Just as he turned to leave, he casually brushed his left hand across the test paper at the top of the bamboo basket.

I pressed my fingertip on the area where the name was pasted, leaving a blurry black mark.

Lu Ming lowered his gaze slightly, taking in everything.

"really!"

He calmly withdrew his gaze and walked out of the examination room with the flow of people.

Fan Wu was already waiting at the edge of the open space, squatting on the muddy ground, sighing and munching on a steamed bun.

"When you get too old, who remembers these things... Isn't it just making things difficult for people to take these fancy tests?"

Lu Ming sat down next to him and took out a flatbread from his pocket; it was already cold.

He broke off a piece and put it in his mouth, chewing it slowly.

Suddenly, a rapid sound of hoofbeats and a mournful scream came from afar.

The two looked up at the same time and saw several cavalrymen dragging a disheveled refugee across the muddy ground near the training ground.

The refugee was tied to a horse's tail with a hemp rope, and he was tumbling and dragged through the mud.

Their clothes were torn to shreds, their skin was ripped open with bloody gashes, and their screams rose one after another.

The cavalrymen laughed loudly, spurred their horses into a circle, and rode away, their hooves kicking up mud everywhere.

The refugees lay sprawled in the mud, their bodies curled up, their groans growing weaker and weaker.

The surrounding examinees glanced at him and then looked away, as if they hadn't seen him.

"Sigh, this world... this is fate."

Fan Wu sighed deeply, his wrinkles deepening.

Lu Ming stuffed the flatbread into his mouth and chewed it without saying a word.

The lunch break ended quickly.

The sun finally peeked out from between the clouds.

"clang--"

Another gong sounded, deep and resonant, signaling the start of the martial arts test.

On the high platform to the north of the drill ground, several rows of grand master chairs have already been arranged.

Below the high platform, hundreds of black iron bricks, each weighing tens of kilograms, were lined up in a row.

A hundred paces apart, rows of straw targets stood on the earthen slope.

All the candidates stood silently, their eyes all turning toward the platform.

Officials and gentry filed in.

The leader was a refined middle-aged man with a long beard, his narrow eyes half-closed, and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

Behind him followed a short, stout man dressed as a constable, with a round face and large ears, whose smile resembled that of Maitreya Buddha.

Further behind were several people dressed in fine clothes.

As Lu Ming looked at these people, information about them flashed through his mind:

Liu Zhiyuan, the upright and incorruptible magistrate of Yinhu County, arrived three years ago to take up his post.

Wang An, the chief clerk of the yamen, is a tyrant in Yinhu County who has destroyed countless families and wiped out many clans.

The heads of the four powerful families: Zhang, Wang, Lin, and Hong...

The "heaven" of Yinhu County is almost complete.

The students below the stage seemed to breathe a little lighter.

"How strange. Why isn't our Judge Liu counting his silver dollars in the yamen? What's he doing here, joining in the fun?"

Fan Wu stood beside Lu Ming, muttering to himself:

"Could it be... that the Lord of Yinshan was frightened after hearing that a witch had drained his life force, and now he wants to work harder to improve himself?"

Lu Ming's heart stirred slightly.

Perhaps he can demonstrate his value in exchange for protection?

At the exact hour of Wei (1-3 PM), Wang An stood up, bowed respectfully to Liu Zhiyuan, and then turned to the audience.

His round face remained smiling, but his voice was loud and clear:

"It is a great pleasure to have Lord Liu and all the gentry present today as witnesses, allowing you all to freely express your thoughts and fully demonstrate your talents..."

He looked around the audience, his gaze sweeping over the young faces, finally lingering on Lu Ming for a moment.

"Alright, enough with the chit-chat, let the martial arts test officially begin."

The moment the words were spoken, a commotion erupted in the audience.

The military examination, intended to select talent for the imperial court, was seen by most as nothing more than a joke.

The real way out is behind the scenes. If you can get on the good side of a powerful family and become their retainer, that's the real way out.

Soon, the candidates entered the examination hall in batches under the arrangement of several constables.

The first test in the martial arts competition: drawing the bow.

Ten people per group, with ten groups taking turns.

Before each person lay a black iron horn bow, its entire body jet black, with dark patterns cast on its limbs, cold and heavy.

The Three Stones' hard bow requires even the strongest man to exert all his strength to draw it fully.

The first group of ten people stepped forward, picked up the bow and nocked the arrow.

Some people strained until their faces turned red, veins bulged on their foreheads, but their bent arms could only bend slightly before they could no longer move and slumped down.

Some people barely managed to draw the bowstring to its fullest extent, but when they loosened their grip, the arrow veered and sank into the mud five steps away.

Only two or three out of ten people can hit the bullseye.

The proctors on the perimeter were scribbling scores rapidly in their notebooks with charcoal pencils.

Soon, it was Lu Ming's turn to take the stage.

As fate would have it, Zhang Yuquan ended up in the same group as him.

The two walked into the venue side by side.

As Zhang Yuquan brushed past him, he turned his head slightly, raised his eyebrows slightly, placed his right thumb across his neck, and a playful smile appeared on his lips.

Lu Ming walked straight to his seat without looking to the side.

There was also a black iron horn bow on the ground, but it was noticeably thicker than the one used by the examinee next to him.

He bent down to pick it up, and the moment he touched it, he realized something was wrong.

He immediately nocked the arrow, and as he drew his arm to pull it back, his brow furrowed.

This is no bow with a strength of three stones; it's clearly a bow with a strength of ten stones!

Even ordinary martial artists at the early stage of the Skin Tempering Realm might not be able to pull away, let alone ordinary martial arts apprentices who come to participate in the martial arts competition.

Yu Guangzhong: Zhang Yuquan has already calmly drawn his bow and nocked an arrow, his arms outstretched like crane wings.

He glanced at Lu Ming, his smile growing even more blatant.

Being able to enjoy the same treatment as Xu Hong back then is quite an honor.

But soon, his smile froze.

Lu Ming's expression changed instantly, and a surge of heat rushed out from his dantian, passing through his waist and abdomen, down his shoulders and back, and into his right arm.

With a "boom," his entire arm suddenly tensed, his muscles bulged, and a tremendous force surged forth.

"Bang--!"

The bow was drawn taut, the string twanged loudly, and the arrow transformed into a streak of black light that shot through the sky.

"puff!"

With a muffled thud, the arrow pierced the bullseye.

A black hole suddenly appeared in the center of the snow-white limestone circle, and the white feathers at the end of the arrow continued to tremble.