Time flew by, and November arrived. Two months had already passed since the start of term at Wuyi Academy.
Many Class A students had formally begun their cultivation and mastered the breathing, yet quite a few had failed, and their numbers were the highest among all previous classes.
The academy's board of trustees had discussed the matter and exerted pressure on the administration. However, the management maintained that with the increased total enrollment, such numbers were entirely normal in proportional terms, thereby deflecting the inquiry.
Meanwhile, the Class B students redoubled their rigorous training in preparation for starting their cultivation. Because their innate talent was considerably lower than that of the Class A students, they required more foundational buildup and training; most would not qualify to begin cultivation until six months or a year later.
With no commissioned tasks demanding his attention for the time being, Chen Chuan was able to devote himself wholeheartedly to his training.
As for the second monthly exam, it passed without any incident.
By this point, he had once again slipped into that immersive state, losing all track of time, until one day, in the midst of repeated, arduous practice, he felt a faint heat rising within his body once more.
This heat was distinctly different from the last time. It was as though a distinct sort of power was welling up from inside him, poised right on the verge of erupting.
It felt like a restless stirring, like a butterfly about to break from its cocoon, eager to shed its old husk for new life. Yet at the same time, it was bound and obstructed by an invisible force.
Chen Chuan seemed to grasp something instinctively. Over and over, he performed Orthodox Sanshou, striving to push and assist that surging power to break through the barrier.
Initially, his movements and forms were rapid, but gradually they grew slower and slower. His footwork seemed to turn immensely heavy and sluggish, as if bearing an enormous burden with every single motion.
Yet that layer of obstruction remained stubbornly unbroken, as though it could never break free of its ingrained cage. Even so, he did not grow impatient. Keeping his mind steady, he cast all stray thoughts aside, focusing solely on the moment before him. And so, the night slipped away.
Just as the sun was about to rise and the first light of dawn broke across the sky, he pressed one palm forward. Suddenly, a shudder ran through his entire body. It felt as though some fetter had snapped away, and he froze motionless in the stance of the Sanshou stake.
After a good while, when the rays of the rising sun streamed across the French window and illuminated the entire sky ahead, he let out a long exhalation. Slowly drawing back his stance, he walked to the window and bathed in the early morning sunlight.
Though he had not slept all night, the abundant strength brought by mastering the jin technique, coupled with the inner joy of seeing his hard work bear fruit, left him brimming with energy, completely devoid of fatigue.
Slowly, he channeled the Aperture Breathing Technique, feeling the changes in the mutated tissue within his body.
Unlike the growth trajectories produced by other jin techniques, his mutated tissue had begun growing from the fascia. From the fascia, slender strands of mutated tissue branched outward, extending into the muscle.
Intermittent and intertwined, they seemed to form an almost unbroken web; yet with merely a slight exertion of force, they would pull tight and bind together, twisting into unified strength.
As for the parts reaching just under his skin, they took on another mutated form—an even finer, exceptionally resilient, gossamer-like presence that seemed to extend from those slender cords.
It felt fluid and alive; at a single thought, it would stretch and link together, forming a protective layer that was neither purely membrane nor skin.
These different sections of mutated tissue did not exist independently. Rather, they were intimately connected in multiple layers, rooted in the fascia that clung to and wrapped around bones and muscles, extending outward.
The moment he exerted force, the mutated tissues coordinated with one another, contracting and expanding to mobilize and transmit power layer by layer.
However, the mutated tissue constrained and guided by Zhouyuan Jin still appeared quite delicate for now.
Just like that layer of seemingly fluid mutated tissue: although it could gather instantly, it could not form a sufficiently sturdy protective layer like Wrapped Robe Jin, since he had not specialized in that kind of mutated membrane.
Yet this was only his normal state. Because the mutated tissue had grown from his own body and was part of "himself," the Second Self naturally possessed this power as well. And when the two were superimposed...
He shifted his gaze to the sandbag hanging to the side. Reaching out, he tapped it lightly with the back of his hand.
The sandbag barely swayed, yet in an instant, it burst open entirely. Sand, cotton wadding, sawdust, and all sorts of stuffing spilled across the floor.
Chen Chuan slowly withdrew his hand. That had been an imitation of Hunyuan Jin's soft internal shock force. He did not know how it compared to true Hunyuan Jin, but one thing was certain: he could adapt and channel the force applications of all kinds of jin techniques, and in actual combat, that would yield performance beyond what any single jin technique could match.
At this point, he also noticed a few important details. For instance, when he generated power using Hunyuan Jin's method, the force naturally arose from the dantian, which served as the foundation of Hunyuan Jin's power generation.
With his Zhouyuan Jin, however, the power generation points were not limited to just that. Currently, most of them resided at the root joints, with only a few in the middle joints.
He understood that this was because he had only just mastered Zhouyuan Jin, which was not yet enough to turn every part of his body into a release point. Still, if the mutated tissue within him continued to grow, then as his practice deepened, more release points ought to emerge.
Next, he tried imitating the other jin techniques he knew one by one. Naturally, this remained superficial. After all, every mature jin technique was tempered through countless trials and required total systemic coordination.
Even among practitioners of the same jin technique, levels of mastery varied greatly. Thus, even if he could mimic them, he would hardly match someone proficient in that specific technique.
Yet he had no need for that. As long as his various techniques could follow his jin, that was enough. He walked his own path and did not need to merely copy others.
After taking stock of everything, he washed up, tidied himself, and stepped out of the dormitory. Although it was still early, most students had already headed out to begin training.
He walked over to the public telephone, picked up the receiver, and dialed a number. Once connected, he asked, "Teacher, I hope I'm not disturbing you so early?"
Cheng Zitong's voice came through from the other end. "Your teacher runs logistics—early to rise and late to bed is what I do. Well, what's up?" Then he seemed to realize something, and his voice rose slightly. "Don't tell me..."
Chen Chuan said, "Yes, Teacher. I've mastered it."
He heard a brief silence on the other end, followed by a voice deliberately holding back its emotion. "Good! Chen Chuan, you haven't let down my expectations. More importantly, you haven't let down yourself! Your hard work has paid off!" After a pause, he added, "Listen, don't go anywhere. Wait there for me."
Chen Chuan said, "Don't you have things to attend to this morning, Teacher? How about..."
Cheng Zitong cut him off at once. "What could possibly be more important right now than my student? Just wait there."
Ten minutes later, Cheng Zitong arrived at Dormitory 4 on the seventh floor. He had Chen Chuan demonstrate first, then used specialized patting techniques to examine him and asked several questions, confirming that his student had indeed mastered Zhouyuan Jin.
"Just over two months, and you really mastered it! Good, very good!"
Cheng Zitong no longer suppressed his excitement, letting his joy show freely. He also knew that this student of his possessed a maturity well beyond his years and wouldn't let praise go to his head, so he spared no compliments.
Chen Chuan said, "It's all thanks to your guidance, Teacher."
Cheng Zitong chuckled. "No matter how much I teach, it would mean nothing without your own diligence. Still, I must remind you: mastering Zhouyuan Jin doesn't mean you've fully commanded it.
"'Nurturing the True Seed' places the emphasis on 'nurturing.' Now that the true seed has taken root, you must find a way to let it 'grow.' This means having the mutated tissue develop along this path and gradually become robust, though there are certain intricacies to it."
Chen Chuan felt the truth of this as well. Bowing with hands clasped toward Cheng Zitong, he said, "Please advise me, Teacher."
Cheng Zitong nodded. "The first mutated tissue you developed was fascia, and this mutated fascia clings to bone and ties into muscle. Therefore, to anchor its own existence, the mutated tissue will permeate backward into the bone, making the skeleton even tougher and stronger, capable of bearing greater force.
"In the parlance of old martial arts, this process is known as 'building tendon bridges, framing bone beams'! It's akin to forging an entirely new set of sinews and bones within your body.
"Although practitioners of the old martial arts didn't understand the exact mechanisms, they could sense the changes in their bodies and summarized viable methods and steps through empirical experience. This aligns completely with the training philosophy of the 'First Limit.' The only difference is that modern methods are more targeted, practical, and efficient."
Pointing at Chen Chuan, he said, "From here on, besides medication, what you need is continuous training and actual combat to make this mutated tissue obey your will and answer to your commands."
Chapter 65