Chapter 69: Unbreakable

A maid weeping while clutching a wooden stick, and a master bare-chested.

When Fang Baoliang reached the gate of the small stone house yard, this was the strange scene that greeted his eyes.

He hesitated at once, unsure if he had stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have seen—should he quietly retreat and pretend nothing had happened?

“Baoliang, you’re here.”

Fang Yue greeted him, and Baoliang had no choice but to steel himself and enter.

Fang Yue had asked his younger brother Baoliang to come. After finishing the spear training under Deng Dahai, Baoliang hadn’t even had lunch before hurrying over.

Fang Yue took the wooden stick back from Xing’er, utterly baffled by her reaction. He had no way of knowing the wild, chaotic thoughts running through her mind.

He could only chalk it up to her reluctance and said, “Alright, if you’re not willing, just tell me. There’s no need to act like this.”

Between sobs, Xing’er replied, “Young Master, I can’t do such filthy things. If you have that kind of preference, you can try it with someone else. I’d rather die than do it.”

Fang Yue was completely at a loss. “I just mastered a new hard qigong technique and wanted you to hit me with the stick to test its effect. How is that filthy? What exactly did you think I meant?”

“Ah?” Xing’er stopped crying, her eyes wide with confusion. “Young Master, you mean practicing your art, not that sort of… that sort of…”

“What sort of thing?”

“N-nothing.” Realizing her misunderstanding, Xing’er’s face flushed scarlet and she fled in embarrassment.

…

“Strange girl,” Fang Yue muttered, then turned his gaze to Baoliang, who was standing in the yard.

“Come, you give it a try,” Fang Yue said, handing the stick to Baoliang.

Having overheard the exchange, Baoliang understood what Fang Yue meant and didn’t hesitate. The two took their positions; Baoliang gripped the stick with both hands and brought it down on Fang Yue’s back.

With a loud “thud,” the stick struck his back, ringing out sharply.

“No, harder!” Fang Yue was dissatisfied. This amount of force was like a gentle scratch—nowhere near enough to test how much his body could withstand.

Baoliang gritted his teeth and put more strength into it. He had only been testing before, but even then, he hadn’t held back much—and still, Fang Yue’s expression hadn’t changed at all.

“Thud.”

“More force.”

“Thud.”

“All your strength.”

“Thud.”

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Thud.”

With a sharp crack, the stick, as thick as a teacup, snapped in two.

Baoliang was left panting for breath. Ever since his body had transformed, his strength far surpassed that of an ordinary man. He hadn’t expected that, even going all out and breaking the stick, Fang Yue would still be unsatisfied.

Baoliang looked at Fang Yue in shock. He felt sure that Fang Yue was now even stronger than when he had slain the demon hound.

In fact, with his new, uncanny senses, he could sense that Fang Yue’s life force was more vigorous and overwhelming than before.

As for Baoliang himself, after drowning and lying at the bottom of the sea, then being revived and marked as a different being by the aura of the monstrous creature slumbering below, his body had grown stronger by the day.

Yet each step of strength came with a price—or rather, it wasn’t so much growing stronger as being further assimilated by that abyssal monster.

Baoliang knew that, as time passed, if he were assimilated too deeply, he would become a mere extension of the slumbering beast. It terrified him, for when that day came, not only his body but his soul would belong to that creature, leaving him not even the chance to become a ghost.

He realized that, even now, he was denied the right to die. No matter how his body or soul was destroyed, as long as the beast still slumbered beneath the sea, he would always be resurrected.

He was marked by the monster’s aura, condemned to wait for that grim fate.

But Baoliang was unwilling to accept this. It was his refusal to yield that had allowed him to revive under the monster’s influence—and it was that same unwillingness that made him resist a destiny more cruel than death.

Seeking instruction from Fang Yue was a desperate attempt. He didn’t truly expect much. The slumbering monster was simply too unimaginable; it could command life and death, and how could mere martial arts hope to contend with such power?

To put it bluntly, even to compare them was laughable.

Yet, while martial arts gave him little hope, Fang Yue himself inspired confidence.

Fang Yue was growing stronger, and at an astonishing rate.

“Perhaps one day, this scholar will be able to free me from the monster’s control over life and death.”

With blazing eyes, Baoliang stared at Fang Yue, who was lost in thought.

…

Fang Yue was carefully assessing the resilience of his Ironfire Body technique.

Blunt weapons like hammers and sticks, unless wielded with immense force, would have a hard time truly injuring him.

Baoliang’s blows, especially the last one that broke the stick, carried hundreds, perhaps even a thousand pounds of force. Yet the only effect on Fang Yue was a little pain—not even enough to count as a minor injury.

“With this hard qigong, my resistance to blows has greatly increased. Right now, my body’s toughness is almost on par with what that demon hound had.”

At the thought, Fang Yue felt both pleased and uneasy.

That demon hound had only been a demon for about a month and hadn’t even grasped any supernatural arts, yet its physical power alone was terrifying.

With just one hard qigong skill, Fang Yue’s body was only now approaching the hound’s level after a month of demonization—and to reach this strength without the help of his system would have taken at least ten years of grueling effort.

The fiends and monsters of this world were indeed frighteningly strong.

“This hard qigong is highly effective against blunt force, but against blades and sharp weapons, its efficacy is somewhat less.”

Just as, during his battle with the demon hound, Fang Yue could kill a wolf with a single punch, yet his fists could barely harm the hound, only a great blade could pierce its tough hide.

The hound, with its massive body, could endure sword wounds, but with a human body like Fang Yue’s, a single slash would be a serious matter.

Still, with this hard qigong as protection, even sharp weapons would struggle to inflict a fatal wound—he was now many times sturdier than before.

In essence, after mastering the Ironfire Body, though his internal energy hadn’t advanced, his actual strength had soared.

If he were to face the demon hound again, even without using merit points to heal, he could fight it to a standstill—and ultimately emerge victorious.

“More importantly, I can continue to refine this technique. As long as I have enough martial arts knowledge and theoretical foundation, I can keep improving it, almost without limit.”

An ordinary martial artist, even with manuals and theory, could not endlessly perfect a hard qigong. The body has limits, as does lifespan.

Hard qigong takes years or decades to temper the flesh, but with age, the body withers and blood energy fades—how could training continue then?

But Fang Yue was different. With his merit system, as long as he had sufficient knowledge, theory, and merit points, he could keep refining his hard qigong indefinitely, untroubled by age or time.

“At this rate, one day, I’ll temper my body to be truly indestructible—invulnerable, like a Diamond Body.”