Chapter 5: The Shiquan Hand

Chapter 5 The Complete Hand

Qin Feng watched him leave, composed his thoughts, and stepped toward the open alloy door.

Inside was a private training room of about two hundred square meters.

Unlike the bustling training grounds of the public area outside, this place lacked the cluttered equipment, appearing exceptionally vast. The floor was laid with warm wooden planks, and an entire wall consisted of a massive floor-to-ceiling window, beyond which lay the gloomy gray sky of Industrial Zone Three and an intricate web of steel pipelines.

Sun Chantang sat cross-legged right in the center of the room.

He had changed into a loose black martial arts uniform, and his tower-like physique now held far less of an oppressive aura, replaced instead by a hint of a grandmaster's demeanor.

"Come in, close the door," his voice remained low and raspy.

"Yes."

Qin Feng entered as instructed, and the alloy door slowly sealed shut behind him.

A profound silence filled the room.

Sun Chantang opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as lightning as it fell upon Qin Feng.

"Age."

"Fifteen," Qin Feng replied, neither servile nor overbearing.

"Tell me your understanding of martial cultivation," Sun Chantang continued to question, as if conducting the simplest of interviews.

Without hesitation, Qin Feng spoke, combining the knowledge he had gathered from school and books with his own insights.

"The essence of martial cultivation is the evolution of life's tier. By practicing specific body-forging methods, one tempers and tortures the physical body to its absolute limits, causing deep-seated damage. Then, by consuming resources rich in psionic energy, such as nutritional fluids and the flesh of exotic beasts, one repairs the physique. Through this cycle of destruction and reconstruction, the physical body grows increasingly powerful, and the vitality index naturally rises. However, the vitality index is merely an external manifestation. It is the strengthening of the body that causes the index to read higher, not the rising of the index that makes the body stronger."

Finished, he waited quietly for Sun Chantang's evaluation.

For the first time, a trace of satisfaction appeared on Sun Chantang’s face.

"Not bad. Much better than that brat just now who only knows how to throw money around. What you described is the 'Refining Method' among the three paths of martial arts, which is also the foundation of all cultivation."

He stood up, his towering figure casting a massive shadow.

"But having the Refining Method alone is not enough. Martial cultivation requires the trinity of 'Refining', 'Killing', and 'Nurturing'—none can be discarded."

"The Refining Method is the way of body-forging you spoke of, the fundamental root."

"The Killing Method is the art of combat. It takes the strength you spent immense effort to refine and releases it in the most efficient manner, translating it into lethal force. The Imperial Military Combat Techniques and various weapon arts all belong to the Killing Method. These are the core teachings that will be systematically passed down to you only after you enter a martial high school."

"The Nurturing Method is the way of cultivation and preservation. Given the exact same psionic resource, someone with an advanced Nurturing Method can absorb eighty percent of it, while someone with a crude one might not even manage thirty percent. This determines the efficiency of your cultivation."

With every sentence Sun Chantang spoke, Qin Feng's eyes grew brighter.

These theories were far deeper and more systematic than anything taught at school. This was precisely the knowledge he yearned for.

"Beyond this, there is also spiritual cultivation, which belongs to the realm of third-tier martial artists and above, and has nothing to do with you for now."

"What you need to do now is the 'Refining Method' and the 'Nurturing Method'. As for the Killing Method, wait until you pass the exam for a martial high school," Sun Chantang walked over to stand before Qin Feng, his towering frame bringing a potent sense of pressure.

"Extend your hand."

Qin Feng extended his right hand as requested.

Sun Chantang reached out with a hand as large as a palm-leaf fan and gripped Qin Feng's wrist.

His fingers were rough and warm, covered in thick calluses, yet his movements were surprisingly gentle.

Starting from the wrist, he moved up Qin Feng's arm inch by inch, pressing and feeling.

From the arm to the shoulder, then to the neck, and down the spine...

The moment Sun Chantang touched Qin Feng's body, his brow furrowed tightly. As his examination deepened, the furrow between his brows grew more pronounced.

"Hmm?"

He let out a soft nasal grunt and halted his movements.

"Kid, this body of yours..."

He released his grip, took a step back, and re-examined Qin Feng with a strange look in his eyes.

"Your meridians are narrow and blocked in multiple places. Your vital energy and blood are superficial, and your foundation is unstable. It is far below the average standard of peers your age... Have you been carrying a congenital ailment since childhood?"

Qin Feng's cheeks burned slightly.

"Yes. When I was seven, I encountered a hyperspace rift and inhaled the toxic gas of an exotic beast."

"I, Sun Chantang, pride myself on never misjudging a person, yet I misjudged today. I accepted ten thousand yuan, only to take in a sickly weakling."

"This time, I've taken a massive loss." Sun Chantang’s words were direct, without the slightest attempt to sugarcoat them.

Qin Feng stood frozen, his hands tightening involuntarily, at a total loss for words.

Seeing his awkward distress, Sun Chantang waved his hand.

"Alright, don't be tense. Since I, Sun Chantang, have taken the money, there is no rationale for returning it. Having accepted your money, I must see the job through."

"Relax, stand straight."

Qin Feng complied, taking a deep breath and trying his best to let his body loosen up.

Sun Chantang stepped behind him, pressing his large hands against the center of Qin Feng's back and lower waist.

"I will use my unique technique, 'The Complete Hand', to realign your body, clear the congested vital nodes, and purge the toxins along the way, bringing your body to the optimal initial state for cultivation."

"That other kid has a decent foundation. After I cleared his pathways, his cultivation efficiency back home will increase by at least thirty percent."

"As for you... at most, it will restore you to how you should have been."

Before Sun Chantang's voice could fully fade, his hands suddenly unleashed a tremendous force.

"Hold your breath!"

Boom!

An unstoppable, majestic surge of vital energy and blood, like molten iron, erupted from Sun Chantang's palms and violently flooded into Qin Feng's body!

Qin Feng's body shuddered violently, his face instantly flushing a deep crimson.

He felt like a tiny skiff sailing through a tempestuous sea, liable to be torn to shreds at any given moment.

Countless scorching currents rampaged wildly inside him, washing through every fragile meridian and every withered cell.

Agony!

An indescribable, agonizing pain!

It felt as if countless red-hot steel needles were frantically piercing every single corner of his body.

Yet he bit down hard, refusing to let slip a single groan.

He remembered Sun Chantang’s instruction to hold his breath.

"Your bones are quite stubborn."

Sun Chantang's voice echoed in his ear, carrying a hint of approval.

"Focus your mind and guard your spirit! Endure it, and the ailment will be expelled; fail to endure it, and your meridians will be entirely shattered!"

Sun Chantang's hands began to move along Qin Feng's back, chest, abdomen, and limbs in a peculiar rhythm, pressing, shifting, and striking.

His movements were sometimes as gentle as spring rain, and sometimes as fierce as sudden thunder.

With each palm strike, a surge of pure qi and blood force penetrated his body, precisely hammering the nodes in Qin Feng’s body that had been clogged and atrophied by toxins.

“Pfft!”

The first blockage burst open; Qin Feng felt a sweetness in his throat, and a thread of black stagnant blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

“Pfft!” “Pfft!”

As Sun Chantang’s technique quickened, more and more blockages were forcibly broken through.

From Qin Feng’s seven orifices, black, foul-smelling traces of blood began to ooze.

His body trembled violently like a sieve, and beneath his skin, it seemed as if countless tiny snakes were writhing.

Just as Qin Feng felt he was about to be torn apart by this raging force, Sun Chantang’s technique suddenly shifted.

The violent qi and blood force instantly turned gentle as water, like countless trickling streams, beginning to repair the meridians that had been broken open and widened, nourishing the parched cells.

The sensation of two extremes—ice and fire—nearly made Qin Feng faint.

He did not know how long passed—it felt like an entire century.

At last, Sun Chantang released his hands, withdrew his technique, and stood up.

“Huuu…”

He let out a long, turbid breath.

Removing the root of Qin Feng’s illness had cost him no small amount of energy.

Still, it was because this was delicate work requiring total concentration; otherwise, a single misstep could have harmed Qin Feng’s foundation.

(End of this chapter)