Achieving physical sainthood begins with the Iron Shirt technique!

The mud alleys outside Xuanni City are perpetually shrouded in darkness.

Even the wind here smells sour.

The air is perpetually filled with the smell of fermenting swill, and these past few days it has been infused with the bitterness of low-grade hemostatic herbs, as well as the lingering, acidic smell of sweat that mortals can't wash off.

Looking up into the distance, celestial light soared into the sky from the direction of the inner city, and the array's light was colorful and dazzling.

That's where cultivators live.

The alleyway was gloomy.

Lu Chen, shirtless, squatted in front of the dilapidated mud stove.

The timing and temperature must be perfectly controlled.

He dug up these few low-grade hemostatic herbs after three days of digging in the wasteland outside the city.

If even a tiny bit of the medicine is lost, Anan's cough at night will become uncontrollable.

Taking advantage of the slow simmering in the stove, Lu Chen spread his legs apart.

Immediately assume a horse stance.

His breathing instantly became heavy and long.

The large tendons in his lower back bulged, running down his spine to the back of his head.

The technique he practices is called "Iron Shirt".

This technique has absolutely no trace of mystical power.

Years ago, a group of veterans fleeing famine came to Xuanni City, and most of them starved to death.

Lu Chen used half a moldy, blackened coarse flour bun to forcibly break a tattered book from the hand of a dead old soldier.

This was all his possessions.

Mortals cannot cultivate immortality because they lack spiritual roots.

In this muddy alley where life is worse than that of weeds, mortals can be killed at any time by the guardians of the immortal city, or thrown out to be fed to demon beasts.

Lu Chen practiced this vulgar external martial art for no other reason than...

So that when the guards whipped him, his bones wouldn't break on the spot.

The broken wooden door creaked open.

A-Nan walked out barefoot, feeling her way out.

Her small body was somewhat frail.

He was clutching an old rag doll with half an ear missing tightly in his hand.

A grayish strip of cloth covered his blindfold.

"Lu Chen".

Ah Nan's voice was timid.

She always habitually reached out her hand to grab Lu Chen's clothes.

Upon hearing the sound, Lu Chen quickly withdrew from his horse stance.

He looked at his hands, which were covered in herbal ash and mud, and did not immediately go to help her.

He first vigorously rubbed his faded coarse cloth trousers a dozen times.

Until my palms were red and hot from rubbing, and all the dust was gone.

Then he reached out and placed his palm on the top of A-Nan's head, rubbing it twice.

"The medicine will be ready soon. Don't wander around. Just stand here and wait for me."

A-Nan nodded obediently and hugged the rag doll with the missing ear even tighter.

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the neighboring yard.

That was the sound of a hard object hitting iron.

Then came a burst of wailing and crying.

Old Zhang next door was swinging a chipped hammer, smashing the only iron pot he had for cooking into pieces.

Then they put the pieces of iron into the tattered burlap bag one by one.

Tomorrow is the "Festival for Offering to the Immortals".

Every mortal in the outer city must collect three silver coins as an offering and submit them.

Those who cannot pay the full amount will be immediately expelled from the city to feed the monsters, with no room for negotiation.

While wiping away his tears, Old Zhang stuffed the iron sheet into his cloth bag.

He kept muttering to himself.

"Smash it for money... exchange it for silver..."

"If we don't pay, the immortals will take us to feed the monsters in the back mountains..."

"I don't want to die, I still have a grandson to raise..."

The entire mud alley was filled with this lifeless weeping sound.

Lu Chen continued fanning the stove with a palm-leaf fan.

He was used to it long ago.

In this world, mortals are merely livestock kept by the immortals, laborers providing offerings.

The lives of ordinary people are worthless.

Suddenly, Anan's brows furrowed.

Her small hand suddenly grabbed Lu Chen's clothes.

The more they try to control it, the tighter it gets.

The knuckles turned white from the exertion.

"Lu Chen..."

A-Nan hunched her shoulders and shivered.

"What's wrong?" Lu Chen immediately threw down the palm-leaf fan, turned around and pulled her behind him.

"Something fell down..." Ah-Nan looked up, her eyes covered by a cloth strip, facing the sky above the mud alley.

"Very cold...very sharp..."

Ordinary people cannot sense spiritual energy, but although Ah-Nan cannot see it, her intuition is always accurate and uncanny.

She has an instinctive aversion and disgust towards the fluctuations of spiritual energy in the sky.

Without hesitation, Lu Chen pulled A-Nan into his arms.

The back is taut, and the muscles bulge out.

The Qi and blood in "Iron Shirt" accelerate circulation within the body.

A muffled bang suddenly erupted from the alley entrance.

That was the sound of a tanned cowhide whip lashing against flesh.

"Get out of my way! You blind fool!"

The shouts of the Immortal City guards shook the mud walls, causing debris to fall from them.

Several ordinary people huddled at the alley entrance were whipped away and rolled in the mud, screaming in agony.

With his large pregnant belly, Deacon Zhao swaggered into the mud alley with his hands behind his back.

My boots sank into a mud puddle, splashing dirty water all over me.

He shook his foot with a look of disgust and covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief.

Two guards from the immortal city quickly cleared the way, carrying blood-stained whips in their hands.

Deacon Zhao kicked open the gate to the neighboring courtyard.

The wooden door collapsed with a crash.

Old Zhang had just finished wrapping up the broken pieces of the iron pot and hadn't even had a chance to kowtow in welcome.

Deacon Zhao stepped forward and kicked him directly.

The iron pot fragments were scattered all over the ground, and even the broken clay pot used to boil herbs for treating rheumatism in the yard was kicked over.

The scalding hot medicine was poured directly onto the old man's legs.

The old man screamed and fell to his knees, ignoring the burns on his legs, and frantically kowtowed.

Deacon Zhao looked down at him from his high position.

"Are you wailing?"

"To pave the way for the Holy Maiden is a blessing you've accumulated over ten lifetimes!"

"Don't be ungrateful and ruin your path to immortality!"

"Tomorrow is the Festival of Offering to the Immortals; the offerings must be doubled. If you're short even a penny, your whole family will be thrown out of town!"

The old man kowtowed repeatedly, his forehead hitting the gravel and bleeding profusely.

They didn't even dare to beg for mercy.

Deacon Zhao snorted coldly, turned around and walked out of the courtyard.

He turned his head and saw the courtyard gate on Lu Chen's side.

Lu Chen, shirtless, tightly protected the little blind girl, A'nan, behind him.

Deacon Zhao stopped and took two steps forward.

"Isn't this Lu Chen, the toughest guy in our alley?"

The two guards laughed and cracked their whips.

Lu Chen clenched his fists tightly.

The veins on the back of my hand bulged all the way down to my forearm, and the blood vessels were throbbing.

The internal energy of "Iron Shirt" surged wildly through the muscles.

I want to smash that disgusting fat face with my fist.

But he didn't move.

He turned his head and glanced at A-Nan, who was hiding behind him.

The little girl was trembling with fear, clutching the rag doll with the missing ear tightly.

If he takes action now, he won't be able to protect A-Nan.

Anger was about to explode in his chest, but Lu Chen swallowed his anger back.

Bow down.

He did not utter a word.

When Deacon Zhao saw Lu Chen lower his head, he sneered and spat a wad of phlegm in front of Lu Chen's door.

"What's the use of having strong bones?"

"A piece of trash who doesn't even have a spiritual root."

"You'll only ever be a maggot in the mud, easily crushed with a single step."

Deacon Zhao pointed his chubby finger at Lu Chen's forehead.

"Prepare the offerings for both of you tomorrow."

"Otherwise, I, the deacon, will personally throw your useless, blind sister to feed the monsters in the back mountains!"

Upon hearing the last sentence, Lu Chen suddenly raised his head.

Just as he was about to erupt.

The world has changed.

Without any warning, the clouds overhead were violently torn apart by a brute force.

A deafening thunderclap crashed down from the heavens.

The ground of the entire mud alley began to tremble violently.

The tiles crashed down and shattered in the muddy water.

The already dimly lit mud alleyway was instantly plunged into complete darkness.

A massive white jade spirit boat, so large it occupied half the sky, hovered directly above Xuanni City.

The spirit boat blotted out the sky.

A huge shadow pressed down on the entire mud alley.

This is no ordinary patrol by the immortal sects.

This is the Qingxiao Sword Sect's inter-state spirit boat.

Immediately afterwards, a terrifying, suffocating pressure descended from the sky.

This is spiritual pressure deliberately released by a cultivator.

Indiscriminate crushing.

In the muddy alley, mortals knelt down in droves.

Some people were crushed so badly that they bled from all seven orifices and fainted on the spot.

Old Zhang was pressed firmly into the mud and water, unable to even lift his head.

The arrogant and domineering Deacon Zhao and his two guards suddenly knelt down, trembling all over.

Lu Chen's knees bent instantly, producing a piercing sound of bones grinding together.

"Bang!"

He trampled two cracks into the mud-brick ground.

The immense pressure forced him to kneel.

Anan's face turned deathly pale from the pressure, and even her breathing was completely interrupted.

Lu Chen grabbed A-Nan's shoulders and held her tightly against his chest.

Use your own back to carry that invisible mountain.

Bleeding from his teeth.

It dripped down his chin.

The Iron Shirt technique was pushed to its limit.

I will never kneel!

I'd rather die than kneel before these scum who treat mortals like livestock!

His legs continued to bend, his muscles were overworked and almost bursting.

Just when he was about to give up.

A huge shadow peeked out from the edge of the spirit boat.

That's not a person.

It was a strange beast whose entire body was burning with a pale blue light and whose size was as large as a house.

It poked out its ferocious head.

This is the Azure Water Qilin, a high-level mythical beast tamed by the immortal sect.

The beast opened its blood-red maw, spewing out white, icy breath, and looked down at the mortals crawling haphazardly on the ground below.