Chapter 37: Second Layer of the Enlightened Fist

Late at night, Fang Yue was jolted awake by an intense burning sensation coursing through his body.

He had originally intended to wait until the Merit Divine Power finished deducing the martial art, but he had suddenly felt an overwhelming exhaustion midway and had drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

Now, he was abruptly awakened from his dreams.

The blood wine he had drunk was burning inside him like a raging fire.

And it wasn’t just in his stomach—by now, the blood wine had already spread throughout his body via his bloodstream, reaching every corner.

His hands and feet, his organs, his brain—every place touched by blood vessels was now aflame.

Fang Yue knew this burning was only an illusion, but the damage the spiritual blood wrought upon his body was all too real.

The pain, searing and unrelenting, was genuine.

Writhing in agony, Fang Yue rolled off the bed and tumbled to the floor, convulsing as if being roasted alive.

“Damn it, that cup of blood wine really was problematic!”

He realized things had taken a dire turn; his consciousness grew hazy beneath the onslaught of pain.

In the haze, a graceful figure of a woman seemed to beckon to him.

“Be good, listen, and the pain will stop.”

Her voice was gentle and melodious, reminiscent of a mother calling her suffering child home.

Fang Yue saw her face clearly—it was Wang Zhizhi.

But this wasn’t the real Wang Zhizhi; she was but an image conjured in his mind by the Curse of the Ghostly Servant.

He struggled to resist the urge to obey the phantom Wang Zhizhi, to surrender and prostrate himself before her.

“Curse that sorcerer! You want me to be your dog? Never.”

With a furious roar, Fang Yue slammed his head into the ground again and again until blood streamed down his face. He was nearing his limit; the burning in his head was eroding his very consciousness.

Even if he didn’t wish to submit, the curse could still consume his mind, reducing him to a puppet under its thrall.

“There’s only one way left. If this fails, I’ll end it with my sword—better to die than be enslaved.”

Clenching his teeth, eyes blazing with defiance, Fang Yue grabbed the sword hanging by his bed with trembling hands.

At this moment, the Merit Divine Power finally completed its deduction of the martial art.

Last time, after the red-robed ghost woman left her mark on his face, the inherited technique and bodily transformation allowed him to barely suppress it.

Now, cursed again, he could only hope the second-tier Enlightened Fist’s transformative power could suppress this spell.

“Sacrifice.”

Without hesitation, Fang Yue uttered a low growl. More than two hundred merit points were sacrificed, transforming into nourishment to fuel the martial art’s inheritance.

In his mind’s eye, two yin-yang fish—one black, one white—emitted a mysterious light.

Within this radiant glow, the burning inside him melted away like snow beneath the sun, vanishing without a trace.

But it was not only the burning; under that mysterious radiance, Fang Yue’s very flesh began to dissolve.

Isolated from his body, Fang Yue felt no pain—an out-of-body observer, detached from suffering, witnessing the entire process.

Dissolution, then remolding.

It seemed a mere illusion of light and shadow, yet it truly happened.

All the knowledge of internal martial arts in his mind fused seamlessly into the Enlightened Fist, deepening his understanding.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but when the first ray of dawn crept through the window, Fang Yue’s consciousness returned to his body.

Hunger—an intense, overpowering hunger.

It was the first sensation upon regaining control, so overwhelming it drowned out all others.

Rushing to the table, he opened a box of medicinal herbs, ignoring their type. Grabbing a handful, he shoved them into his mouth, biting through with a crunch and swallowing them whole.

His stomach, now like a vat of potent acid, digested the herbs instantly, converting them into nourishment for his entire body.

One box was not enough. He opened several more—ginseng, deer antler, angelica, whatever he found—biting them like carrots and swallowing them down.

Soon, a pile of precious blood-enriching, energy-boosting herbs was consumed, finally dulling the pangs of hunger.

The nutrients quickly transformed into blood essence, replenishing the losses caused by his body’s transformation.

He felt a current of energy swelling at the center of his chest. As blood essence increased, the flow grew from an imperceptible trickle to the thickness of an embroidery needle, then to the size of a finger, and now it was as large as a grown man’s fist.

And still, it continued to grow.

Glancing at the array of emptied medicine boxes scattered across the table, Fang Yue pushed open the door and headed to the kitchen.

There, food had already been prepared: braised pork hock, roasted beef and lamb, braised fish, and platter after platter of dishes delivered from the restaurant.

Fang Yue made no distinction—he simply grabbed the meats and devoured them.

Piece after piece of meat, plate after plate of food—he became a veritable glutton, his stomach an endless abyss that could not be filled.

He ate until noon, when the sun was high overhead.

At last, Fang Yue stepped out of the kitchen, patting his stomach with a look of deep satisfaction.

Food digested and transformed into blood essence more slowly than medicinal herbs, but with his enhanced digestion, a portion had already been absorbed.

The blood essence thus produced had made up for the energy deficit caused by the transformation that had strengthened his body.

Fang Yue—

Merit: 6 points

Divine Powers: Deduction, Illumination

Martial Skills: Enlightened Fist (Second Tier)

“What is the power of the second-tier Enlightened Fist, I wonder?”

Fang Yue felt the surging current of energy within his core, filling him with terrifying strength.

He walked to a massive boulder in the courtyard, composed his breath, then exhaled and strained to lift it.

“This stone must weigh over a thousand pounds. Before, I could barely budge it, but now I can lift it—my strength has greatly increased. Still, this is not enough.”

He focused, channeling the energy from his core into his arms.

In an instant, his arms swelled with power. The once-difficult boulder now felt light as a feather; he easily hoisted it overhead.

Setting it down, he directed the energy into his legs and leaped into the air.

He soared like a swallow, nearly twenty feet off the ground, startling himself.

“With inner strength, my skills now would make me a notable martial artist in any ordinary wuxia world.”

Fang Yue was satisfied, but in this world teeming with ghosts and fiends, it still wasn’t enough.

He thought of Tian Yangzi and Wang Zhizhi—the two sorcerers.

“I once believed they were sent by the court to rid the world of evil, but they cast a curse on me without cause. They are sorcerers in truth. A true man distinguishes between gratitude and grudges—this debt cannot go unpaid.”

Recalling the agony of last night’s burning, Fang Yue clenched his teeth. If not for his secret, he would already be enslaved by their spell.

“Still, their methods are strange and unpredictable. Though I have gained inner strength and my power has increased, I may still not be their match.”

He considered pretending to be under the curse, using the opportunity to strike and kill the two sorcerers.

Though their exact capabilities were unknown, they were still mortal, and a blade could wound them.

With his current power, a sudden attack might succeed.

But after much thought, Fang Yue abandoned the idea.

Their abilities were evident enough—turning paintings into people, cursing with wine—both bizarre and dangerous.

He had no certainty of success, and feigning the curse might not work; if the spell failed, they might sense it.

If he failed to kill them or was discovered early, he would surely die.

Moreover, these two were sent by the court—who knew what forces lay behind them?

To fight them would be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot—too risky, an impossible task.

Fang Yue resolved to stick with his original plan: return to the countryside, away from this city teeming with evil spirits, monsters, and all manner of strange beings.

With the merit system on his side, it was wiser to hide and quietly strengthen himself—revenge could wait ten years if needed.

With this in mind, Fang Yue wasted no time. Lest Tian Yangzi and Wang Zhizhi notice their spell had failed and come after him, he hastily packed a few belongings, abandoning the deposit on his rented house.

With his bundle on his back, he hired a mule cart and, without bidding anyone farewell, returned straight to his rural home.