Liang Qu soaked in the wooden bath tub.
A-Wei crawled along his shoulder to the tub's rim, its hundred legs dangling down. The two-finger-wide rim happened to match its body width perfectly, fitting together snugly like a mortise into a slot.
What filled the tub was not a medicinal wash for treating wounds, but a medicinal bath formulated to accompany Ape Fist.
The injuries Liang Qu had sustained fighting the mountain ghost earlier that day were already mostly healed after taking a Flesh-Replenishing Pill. His sparring with Senior Brother Hu had left some bruises, but none were severe enough to warrant dedicated treatment.
Wisps of medicinal potency seeped in through his pores, strengthening his body bit by bit.
Once the brown decoction faded to a pale yellow, Liang Qu stepped out, dried himself off, pulled on a pair of trousers, and began practicing Ape Fist.
His thoroughly depleted qi and blood swelled anew, expanding slightly in both volume and reach. Its efficacy was truly extraordinary.
After finishing his exercises, Liang Qu rinsed away his sweat with water, returned to his room, and fell into a deep sleep sprawled across his bed.
Too much had happened in a single day, leaving him utterly exhausted.
Early the next morning.
Liang Qu had Chen Jiechang run an errand to request leave from the academy on his behalf, then headed to the training ground to spar with Hu Qi.
The apprentices sat in a circle watching. Whenever Liang Qu launched a brilliant counterattack, they would cheer; whenever he was knocked down again, they would let out teasing groans.
When Liang Qu had first been accepted as Master Yang's personal disciple, many apprentices harbored resentment, feeling that honor should have been theirs rather than going to a mud-legged bumpkin from Yixing.
Yet more than half a month had passed since then. However displeased they were, they could only accept reality and grow accustomed to it, so the atmosphere between them had softened.
Quite a few clever ones wanted to treat Liang Qu to a meal to get on his good side. Regrettably, after taking Master Yang as his master, Liang Qu actually appeared at the martial hall far less often, giving them no opportunity.
Among the apprentices were several who shouted words of encouragement.
They had joined later and, hearing Liang Qu's story, regarded him as an extraordinary talent, worshiping him entirely as an idol.
They eagerly anticipated that they, too, might one day suffer unjust treatment, sweep aside all opposition, and win the favor of an expert.
It was only natural. Most who came to study martial arts were supported by their parents, fourteen- or fifteen-year-old youths whose blood ran hot, completely oblivious to how much indignation and sorrow lay buried beneath their naive dreams.
"Hoo... hah!"
Liang Qu was tapped back by Hu Qi once more. His skin was flushed red all over, and he panted heavily, the qi and blood within him drained completely once again.
He had undergone one round early this morning, and this was already the second.
Compared to collapsing at the first touch the previous night, he was now capable of trading two or three blows without letting his jin scatter—truly tremendous progress.
Hu Qi was inwardly astonished as well. Talent for cultivation did not equal a gift for actual combat; there were plenty of people with great aptitude who could never perform when it counted.
During ordinary training, their cultivation would surge by leaps and bounds, but the moment a real fight began, their legs would tremble uncontrollably.
Liang Qu possessed impressive martial instincts and advanced at a breathtaking pace. Moreover, his fighting style was bold and ferocious. Like a sponge, he rapidly absorbed experience, showing something new each time—a practitioner who truly used his head.
Seeing Liang Qu climb to his feet, intent on continuing, Hu Qi tapped his short rod against the ground and shook his head. "Let us call it here for now. It is already a quarter past noon. Eat first. After lunch, you should head over to Senior Brother Lu's. When you return, we can train again, which will also give your qi and blood time to recover."
Liang Qu glanced at the water clock, and the float indeed rested at the midday mark.
The apprentices dispersed in twos and threes.
Exhausted from half a day's exertion, Liang Qu worked up a ravenous appetite. Following right behind Senior Brother Hu, he set his chopsticks to work, putting away four bowls of rice and a mountain of beef on his own, until a comforting warmth enveloped his entire body.
Once he finished, he took his leave of Hu Qi and hurried off toward Senior Brother Lu's quarters.
After waiting half a month, his spiritual weapon was finally about to take its initial form. Liang Qu felt a surge of excitement, barely able to contain his anticipation.
The smithy remained quiet as usual. Lu Gang was not standing before the massive red furnace; instead, he had turned to a rosewood table, busily tracing designs on something.
Stepping closer, Liang Qu saw it was a sheet of thin, grayish-brown leather.
Senior Brother Lu wielded an ink-dipped brush, covering it with patterns of unfathomable profundity. Liang Qu stood quietly at his side, controlling his breathing so as not to disturb him.
As the final stroke fell into place, the entire sheet of leather flared with silver radiance before the patterns faded from sight. Lu Gang wiped the sweat from his brow and explained, "This is bat shadow hide. It exists between the illusory and the tangible, capable of sinking into shadows to feast on flesh and blood. In a moment, shaping your spear will depend entirely on it."
Liang Qu did not understand why shaping the weapon required a piece of leather, but he merely nodded without speaking.
This experience would be an invaluable asset; observing more and speaking less was the wisest course.
Only when Lu Gang picked up the beast hide did Liang Qu notice its bizarre texture—flickering between presence and absence, almost ethereal.
It was truly marvelous.
Inside the massive red furnace, the Scarlet Flame Mourning Feather had already been activated. Endless streams of golden energy poured into a lump of red, softened metal at the very top, while faint red threads drifted out from it.
This had to be what Senior Brother Lu meant by tungsten gold having balanced elemental properties: it would absorb only the life energy while purging the fire energy.
By now, the golden energy had weakened considerably, signaling that the entire forging process had reached the tail end of its second stage.
The first stage had been softening the tungsten gold, followed by thousands upon thousands of hammer blows to strip away impurities and enhance its resilience.
The second stage was activating the mourning feather's energy so the tungsten gold could absorb it.
Just as the golden flames began to flicker precariously on the verge of dying out, Lu Gang handed over a dagger and a bowl.
"Blood! Half a bowl!"
Without a word, Liang Qu took the dagger and drew it across his palm, letting blood pour forth.
It stung sharply!
Liang Qu winced. Cutting oneself with a blade—especially when braced for the pain—was the most excruciating of all.
Half a bowl of fresh blood quickly pooled inside. Lu Gang dipped a hand into a nearby water vat, took the bowl of blood, dropped something inside, and tossed a handful of silver powder into the furnace.
With a resounding roar, the temperature within the furnace surged violently, forcing even Liang Qu to take a step back.
Yet Lu Gang thrust his bare hand directly into the red furnace and poured the fresh blood over the softened metal.
The moment the blood met the scalding metal, a thick cloud of blood mist erupted.
A phantom of a great red bird suddenly surged out from the tungsten gold as if seeking to battle the blood, but its lingering spirituality was like a tree without roots, utterly incapable of enduring. In mere moments, it scattered into nothingness.
The blood flowed over the nearly liquefied metal, neither evaporating nor scorching into brittle flakes, but quietly sinking into it as though soaking into an absorbent cloth.
A faint sense of resonance welled up in Liang Qu's heart.
Was this shaping its nature?
It truly felt as though an extension of his own body were forming, Liang Qu thought.
As soon as Lu Gang withdrew his hand, he flicked his wrist, tossing out the shadow beast hide. Like a blood-drinking bat, the entire hide wrapped itself around the metal. Silver light blazed across the surface as the thin leather continually contracted, converged, and lengthened.
It was literally stretching a block of metal into the shape of a spearhead!
Measuring twelve cun and resembling the forward half of a sharp sword, the spearhead was drawn out without the slightest resistance, followed by the sleeve that would wrap around the shaft, as well as an iron core extending from its center!
Lu Gang reached out to snatch a long box resting on the table. Opening it revealed three wooden shafts soaking in an unfamiliar oil—two black and one white. He drew out the white one and thrust it directly into the furnace!
The unknown oil ignited instantly, the flames racing from the tip down the entire length of the wood. Appearing insensible to pain, Lu Gang aligned the wooden shaft with the iron core and drove it in without the slightest hitch.
After securing the entire long wooden shaft, Lu Gang fitted a metal butt cap to the tail end.
The shadow beast hide, which had originally covered only the spearhead, writhed downward to engulf the shaft as well. As it crawled along, it smothered the oily flames, then settled into stillness once fully wrapped.
Roughly half an hour passed before the motionless shadow hide began to writhe once more. It retreated from the spearhead, enveloping only the spear shaft, while the remainder hardened completely into a glossy, oily gray film.
Lu Gang let out a long breath of relief, pulled the spear from the furnace in one swift motion, and handed it to Liang Qu.
"It is done."
Liang Qu: "???"
Chapter 74