From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

The wind and snow in the courtyard seemed to stop for a moment.

All eyes were fixed on the boy who came out of the kitchen.

"You're Zhao Lai's little apprentice?"

Wang Zhenshan raised an eyebrow, his hawk-like eyes sweeping over Zhu Hong: "Did you sew up that Jianghu's head?"

"Yes," Zhu Hong replied.

Wang Zhenshan flicked his wrist, and the blade clanged back into its sheath: "What's your name?"

"Zhu Hong".

"Interesting." His eyes flickered slightly, and a playful smile appeared on his lips.

These days, there are plenty of people who don't value their lives, but it's rare to see someone who can stand so firmly in front of a government official's blade when they've already stepped into the gates of hell.

Wang Zhenshan took a step forward, his imposing figure casting Zhu Hong entirely into shadow: "Before midnight, I want to see a complete tiger skin. If it's even slightly damaged," he paused, reaching out to brush a snowflake from Zhu Hong's shoulder:

"Then you shall keep this beast company, shall you?"

"Rest assured, sir." Zhu Hong's expression remained unchanged; he merely stepped aside half a step and pointed to the demon corpse covered with an oilcloth:

"Please lend a hand and move this beast into the mortuary."

He couldn't possibly move that inanimate object weighing several thousand pounds.

Wang Zhenshan was taken aback, not expecting that the young man would not only not show any fear, but would instead start ordering around the officials.

There was a moment of silence.

He suddenly grinned and said:

"...You've got guts." He then turned and waved his hand, "You lot, carry it inside."

Zhao Lai and his companions had already huddled behind the pillars, barely daring to breathe, their beady eyes filled only with the relief of surviving a disaster.

"Bang!"

The door was tightly closed.

Inside the cramped room, only Zhu Hong and the enormous monster covered with oilcloth on the cart remained.

He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and ripped open the oilcloth.

Before them stood a black tiger with piercing eyes, nearly two zhang long and almost one zhang tall, taking up half the room. Its glossy black skin was torn in seven or eight jagged gashes, revealing the white bone beneath. The most fatal wound was at its throat: a deep gash exposed bone, almost severing its neck.

"What a monstrous creature!"

A burning glint flashed in Zhu Hong's eyes. "I wonder what benefits we can gain this time..."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a thin, willow-leaf-shaped knife from a hidden pouch. At the same time, the "Iron Chain Across the River Technique" silently began to operate.

This time, I have no intention of returning to dust; I only seek to snatch food from the tiger's mouth.

The knife falls!

The blade aimed straight for the fatal wound on the tiger's neck.

"Swoosh—crack..." The blade cut in and made a strange, rough sound like filing iron.

Zhu Hong's heart skipped a beat, thinking to himself, "What a tough body!"

If it weren't for the fact that my own strength had improved considerably after mending Liu Mang, I'm afraid I wouldn't even be able to cut through this layer of skin today.

"A dead body can't do anything to you?"

A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he channeled all his strength into his palm, gripping the hilt of the knife: "Today, I'm going to eat you alive!"

Before he could finish speaking, the knife tip fell.

First cut:

Seven inches below the throat, the flesh is exposed when the robe is opened.

The second cut:

Swim along the spine of the dragon, peeling away the skin and membranes.

The third cut, the fifth cut, the seventh cut... each cut followed the bone joints, each cut revealed the tendons and muscles.

Peeling halfway through:

Zhu Hong suddenly roared, "Go! Go!"

He planted his left foot on the tiger's head, pushed off the tiger's rump with his right foot, grabbed the torn skin with both hands, and suddenly twisted his waist backward.

"Sizzle!"

The skin and flesh were torn apart, with dark skin mixed with bright red blood and flesh.

"They've actually figured out some tricks of the trade..."

Zhu Hong wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and smiled bitterly to himself, "If I had known this day would come, I should have learned to be a butcher in my past life." Before the smile faded, the short knife was already pressed against the tiger's corpse again. He shook the sweat from his palms, his left foot still on the tiger's head, and with a twist of his waist and hips, the blade flashed again.

Ninth cut:

Follow the joints of the limbs and peel away the tiger's paws.

The eleventh cut:

Around the outline of the chest and abdomen, remove the belly skin.

Blood splattered everywhere, the abdomen was torn open, and the internal organs were vaguely visible. As the story drew to a close, Zhu Hongzhi stood up, his gaze deep and serious.

The final blow—

"May Buddha have mercy."

He mumbled something incoherently, then suddenly exerted force in his waist and back, like a fully drawn bow snapping back.

"Sizzle—!" A loud tearing sound echoed through the hut, and the entire black tiger skin, from the neck to the tailbone, fell off along the knife marks and lay limply to the side.

"Phew... I've finally accomplished my mission."

Zhu Hong's face turned deathly pale. He slid down slowly against the earthen wall, panting for a long time before shaking his head and letting out a bitter laugh: "Peeling a skin is so tiring? Indeed... the butcher's profession is ultimately incompatible with my nature."

After saying that, his gaze fell on the tiger skin on the ground.

"There's one last step to complete the process."

He looked at the seven or eight holes in the tiger skin, got up again, and took out a row of rarely used fine steel needles from his satchel.

Threading a needle.

Zhu Hong's hand was as steady as a rock, without even frowning, as he precisely pierced the flesh with the silver needle and thread.

Stitch after stitch, I don't know how much time passed.

A warm feeling suddenly flashed through my mind:

[To mend the tiger demon's (mastered flesh-refining) skin, completing its essence and outward appearance.]

[Postscript: A miraculous cure.]

[Awarded: Three Gu Qi and Blood]

After detecting the remaining essence of the demonic tiger, stripping away its bloodlust, and learning the martial art: Crouching Tiger Fist (Martial Art - Beginner Level)

Three Gu Qi and Blood?

As Zhu Honggang finished reeling in the needle, he saw the Dead Man's Scripture emit a clear light, and he was overjoyed: "I had already been reborn after obtaining one Gu of Qi and Blood, and now these three Gu..."

Before I could think it through, the soreness in my muscles surged like a tidal wave. At first, the sensation was like ants crawling, but it quickly turned into thousands of steel needles piercing my chest, abdomen, shoulders, back, arms, legs, and other twelve core muscles all at once.

"Washing the tendons and marrow?"

He felt a chill run down his spine and dared not be negligent. He immediately lowered his waist and hips and adopted the "locking the river" stance.

Once the method is established, the dantian will feel a heat.

A warm current rose from three inches below the navel, neither hot nor cold, as gentle as a spring stream in March, slowly spreading along the meridians. Wherever it passed, the needle-like stinging pain gradually subsided, leaving only a tingling warmth.

Throughout the entire process: Hunger? Absolutely nonexistent.

Feeling weak?

The smoke disappeared.

Zhu Hong closed his eyes and concentrated, letting his thoughts sink into his body:

The originally loose, fluffy fibers expanded and contracted noticeably under the influence of this warm current.

About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

"Drink!" Zhu Hong exhaled and shouted, suddenly pulling back his stance. He casually picked up the black tiger skin on the ground, and with a forceful lift, he steadily held the tiger skin, which weighed over two hundred pounds even after the flesh and bones were removed, in his hand.

"So this is... the Flesh Refining Realm?"

He clenched his right fist, his bones cracking, and then suddenly slammed it onto the bluestone ground.

"Bang—"

With a dull thud, the stone surface cracked open with fine, spiderweb-like lines, and fragments scattered everywhere.

He possesses the strength to shatter rocks and weighs a hundred pounds.

"...Finally." After verifying the claim, Zhu Hong's eyes gleamed, and a smile curled at the corner of his lips:

"I am no longer helpless."

After calming himself down, he once again immersed his thoughts in the "Tiger Fist of the Mountain" that was already imprinted in his mind.

This fist technique is powerful and consists of three forms:

"Tiger Leaps Across the Ravine," "Black Heart Strike," "Tiger's Might Settles with a Thousand Pounds." He has only just begun to grasp the basics, and his martial arts skills are still developing. He can only barely execute the rudimentary form of the first move, "Tiger Leaps Across the Ravine." However, even in its rudimentary form, when he exerts his strength, he can feel his blood and qi surging and subtly pulling on the major tendons throughout his body. There seems to be a deep tiger's roar echoing in his chest and abdomen, and the direction of his fist sends chills down one's spine.

……