In the first light of dawn, Zhang Liwei awoke in the familiar surroundings of his room in Green Willow Village. The night's journey back from Amethyst Heart Mountain, a name he had affectionately bestowed upon his previously nameless cultivation site, still lingered in his muscles.

Three years had passed in a blink, dedicated entirely to the rigors of cultivation. Though only fourteen, Liwei had grown tremendously in both strength and understanding. His mastery over techniques and Qi manipulation had reached new heights, yet the Resonating Pulse stage, the elusive final phase of the Whispering Qi Initiation realm, still seemed beyond his reach. This failure to break through, despite four years of focused effort, weighed heavily on his mind.

Moreover, his dedication to Spiritual Alchemy bore fruit. After several failed attempts, he successfully crafted Jade Bone Pills, fortifying his bones and muscles with tangible results. He then formulated the Clear Meridian Elixir, which unfurled minor blockages in his meridians, paving the way for smoother cultivation. His travels even yielded the rare Spirit Stinger honey, which he used to nourish his Dantian with each golden drop. And as he shared these bounties with his family, their shared growth echoed his own, reaffirming the power of his dedication.

Liwei recalled Master Yan's teachings—cultivation realms are milestones, marking a cultivator's journey, and techniques are the paths carved towards the peaks that loomed in the distance. He knew that what he needed was not just rigorous training, but an epiphany, a moment of profound insight into the Dao that would propel him to the next stage of his journey.

Shaking off his thoughts, Liwei washed his face in the cool morning water, feeling the familiar resilience of his skin, toughened by years of body tempering. As he stepped into the family's common area, he greeted each member with a warmth that only deepened with each return.

"Good morning, Father," Liwei smiled at Zhang Jian. "Mother," he nodded respectfully towards Liu Mei. Turning to his younger sister, his smile broadened, "And good morning to you, Ningning."

The familiar faces of his family, Zhang Jian, Liu Mei, and Zhang Ning, were like a soothing balm to his spirit.

With a mind set on consultation and guidance, he made his way towards Master Yan's residence. Upon arriving, Liwei found the gate firmly shut, an unusual sight. A sign, weathered and covered in a fine layer of dust, hung from the door, declaring Master Yan's absence on a personal trip. The accumulated dust spoke of the master's prolonged departure. A twinge of disappointment flickered in Liwei's heart, but he understood the unpredictable nature of a cultivator's journey.

Turning back, Liwei's steps led him home. His father, Zhang Jian, had already left for the fields, embracing the day's labor. His gaze swept over the familiar surroundings, now subtly changed. The crystal jewelry and Spirit Stinger honey he had brought from his cultivation site, traded through Uncle Zhou, had brought prosperity to his family. The evidence of this newfound wealth was apparent in the quality of life that his family now enjoyed. The thought brought a quiet sense of satisfaction to Liwei.

Reflecting on the Spirit Stinger honey, his mind turned inward to his own progress. His body tempering efforts had borne fruit—his muscles were now as hard as basalt, impervious to the buzzing menace he'd once feared.

His focus now lay in a deeper form of body tempering, aiming to strengthen his bones to an extraordinary degree. This process was not merely about hardening the surface; it was about infusing the very essence of his marrow with a resilience that surpassed the hardest natural materials.

In the modest kitchen, where the aroma of simmering porridge and fresh buns filled the air, Zhang Liwei observed the light-hearted exchange between his mother, Liu Mei, and his sister, Zhang Ning.

"Mother, do you remember the time when Brother tried to cook and almost set the kitchen on fire?" Zhang Ning giggled, playfully stirring the porridge.

Liu Mei chuckled, "Oh, how could I forget? Your brother, the mighty cultivator, met his match in a simple cooking pot!"

"And now look at him," Ning continued, glancing at Liwei with a mischievous smile. "He conquers mystical realms but still struggles with the mysteries of cooking."

Liu Mei laughed, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "True strength lies in conquering all aspects of life, even the kitchen. Maybe it's time for another cooking lesson, Liwei?"

Liwei smiled, joining in the humor. "Perhaps, but let's not risk another kitchen catastrophe. I'll stick to cultivation and leave culinary arts to the experts."

Their laughter mingled in the warmth of the kitchen, a gentle reminder of the joy and simplicity of family life amidst the rigorous path of cultivation.

Suddenly, their tranquility was shattered by a piercing yell from the communal square.

"Bandits! Bandits are here!" came the desperate scream, a sound so alien to the usually serene and peaceful village.

Liu Mei's face turned pale, and Ning's eyes widened in fear. Without a word, they all rushed out of their house, propelled by a sense of urgency.

As Liwei sprinted towards the square, his ears caught the frantic screams of "Help! Somebody, please help!" His heart pounded with a mix of fear and rising anger. His steps quickened, driven by a desperate need to protect his home.

Upon reaching the square, the scene that unfolded before him was one of chaos and pain. Villagers lay scattered, groaning and bleeding. Old Man Zhang, the village blacksmith, clutched his stomach, pain etched across his face, his trusty hammer lying discarded beside him. Farmer Lu, a figure usually brimming with vitality, lay on his back, struggling to rise, his face marred with bruises. Madam Lin, known for her gentle smile, was slumped over a bench, unconscious, blood trailing from her mouth.

Liwei's eyes blazed with fury as he turned towards the assailants. Twelve in total, they were burly figures clad in mismatched animal furs, their grimy faces twisted in malice. Each brandished a weapon, their crude blades and clubs glinting in the sunlight.

A man stepped forward from the group, his early forties countenance marked by scars and a cruel, savage glint in his eyes. He was taller than the others, his muscular frame exuding a menacing aura. "I am Black Fang Rong," he growled, his voice dripping with malice. "I lead these men. Bring us your food, wine, and your prettiest women to serve us!" He scanned the villagers with a predatory gaze.

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"Surrender all valuables, or we'll burn this village to the ground!" His goons echoed his threats, their coarse laughter slicing through the air like daggers.

Liwei, seething with anger, instinctively stepped forward, his fists clenching. But Liu Mei, her face a mask of fear, grasped his arm tightly. "Liwei, no," she whispered, her voice trembling. Despite his cultivation and strength, she still saw him as her boy, vulnerable and in need of protection.

Torn between the urge to defend and his mother's fear, Liwei hesitated. His eyes darted across the crowd, assessing the situation, searching for a solution.

Like a vulture seeking carrion, a goon, his face a twisted mask of violence, scanned the panicked villagers. He found Li Hua, her delicate features a beacon in the turmoil. A cruel leer stretched his lips. "You," he rasped, his voice sandpaper on stone. "Join us, sweet one. Our lord has need of your charm."

Li Hua, frozen in shock, could only stare back, her face drained of color. The situation was escalating, and Liwei felt a surge of protectiveness for his childhood friend. The conflict within him grew—the desire to act, tempered by the fear in his mother's eyes.

The tension in the air of Green Willow Village square was palpable as the brutish goon approached Li Hua. His cruel axe glinted menacingly in the sunlight, reflecting his evil grin. Standing ominously close to her, he reached out with filthy hands, lifting her chin to force a glimpse at her face.

"Let go of me!" Li Hua's voice pierced the morning air as she attempted to recoil, her plea sharp and desperate.

The goon's grip remained unyielding, his voice laced with malice as he yanked her toward the bandit leader. "Quiet, girl, or it'll be worse for you!" he snarled, his anger flaring.

Li Hua's continued struggle seemed only to fuel his fury. With a vicious tone, he spat out, "This will teach you to resist!" before striking her across the face with a backhand. Then, raising his axe high, he threatened ominously, "One more word, and you won't live to speak another!" His intentions were clear and deadly.

At that moment, something within Zhang Liwei snapped. No longer thinking, his body moved on instinct. Utilizing the Slope Traverse Step, his large strides caused the ground to tremble with each step, his presence commanding the attention of all. The sound of his approach resonated through the square, a prelude to retribution.

The goon, caught off guard, swung his axe towards Liwei with a grunt. But Liwei, burning with an unprecedented fury, countered with remarkable calmness.

"My body is an unyielding fortress!" Liwei declared, his voice echoing with the strength of his resolve as he raised his left arm to block. The axe struck with a resounding clang, completely ineffective against his Stone Body Method-infused physique.

Gathering his Qi, Liwei readied his Cliff Crumble Fist. "Witness the power of the earth!" he shouted, his right fist spiraling forward like a corkscrew and connecting with the goon's chest. The impact boomed through the square, followed by the goon's agonized yelp.

Blood sprayed from the goon's mouth as he gasped in disbelief and pain. "Impossible..." he choked out, his eyes wide with shock, locking onto Liwei's fierce gaze before he crumpled to the ground.

The remaining bandits and their leader, Black Fang Rong, were stunned into silence. "Who... who is this boy?" one bandit whispered in disbelief.

Black Fang Rong, his voice laced with a mix of fear and awe, muttered, "This... this is no ordinary village... This is a cultivator's haven!"

Their realization was stark; they had grievously underestimated Green Willow Village. They had encountered cultivators in tales and distant lands, beings of near-mythical prowess, but never had they expected to face one in such a small, unassuming place.

For years, they had raided settlements with impunity, confident in their strength and the helplessness of their victims. But today, for the first time, they had attacked a village under the protection of a cultivator. The realization of their grave miscalculation set in, as they stared at Zhang Liwei, a young cultivator whose power and resolve had just been unmistakably displayed.

Despite Zhang Liwei's display of strength, the bandit leader believed their advantage lay in numbers and inexperience of their young opponent. "Take him down, together!" he shouted, his voice laced with a mixture of fear and determination.

Liwei, with a swift movement, guided Li Hua behind him, ensuring her safety as the bandits formed a menacing circle around him. He briefly locked eyes with her, signaling with a firm nod for her to retreat to a safe distance. Understanding his intent, Li Hua quickly moved away from the imminent combat zone, her steps hastening as she sought shelter behind the sturdy walls of a nearby dwelling.

Their weapons glinted maliciously in the morning light, a ring of steel and ill intent. Liwei steadied himself, adopting the formidable stance of the Mountaintop Strike Fist Art's third form: the Mountain Shatter Fist.

Positioning himself with a twist of his torso, Liwei raised his right fist, aligning it with his unwavering gaze. Qi began to swirl around his hand, a visible manifestation of his immense power. As the bandits charged, their shouts melding with the metallic symphony of their weapons, voices of concern sliced through the chaos. "Liwei, my son, be careful!" Liu Mei's voice was a sharp echo of maternal fear. "Brother, be wary!" Ning's cry followed, laden with apprehension.

The clash of metal met an unyielding force, resonating throughout the square. "How... how is this possible?" The bandit leader's voice trembled with disbelief, his eyes wide as he witnessed Liwei taking their combined assault head-on, yet emerging without a single scratch.

In that crucial moment, Liwei, his body a conduit of concentrated Qi, thrust his fist downward. The ground trembled and burst forth in a mighty roar, unleashing a wave of Qi that rippled outwards with ferocious intensity. Caught in its wake, the bandits were hurled back, their bodies tumbling through the air before collapsing in disarray, vanquished by the sheer might of Liwei's Mountain Shatter Fist.

As the dust settled, Liwei remained a kneeling figure, his right fist and knee pressing against the earth, a quiet guardian amidst the chaos. Then, the hush was broken by a chorus of groans, each one a testament to broken pride and failed ambitions.

Rushing towards Liwei, Liu Mei, Zhang Ning, and Li Hua wore expressions of deep concern. "Liwei, are you hurt?" Liu Mei's voice quivered with maternal worry.

Ning, inspecting him, noted with relief, "Your clothes are torn, but there's no blood!"

Liwei, gathering his strength, rose slowly to his feet, the exertion from using the Mountain Shatter Fist evident in his strained breath. "I am unharmed, but my mastery of the technique is not yet complete," he explained, his voice steady but fatigued.

The villagers, his family, and Li Hua gazed at him, their faces a mix of awe and concern. Sensing the need for leadership, Liwei commanded, "Everyone, we must aid the wounded and secure these bandits. Act swiftly!"

His words jolted the villagers from their daze, and they began to move, helping the injured and binding the defeated bandits. The spirit of unity and determination rose amongst them, inspired by Liwei's unyielding courage and leadership.

Suddenly, Li Hua's voice trembled with alarm. "Liwei, this bandit..." She was staring at the goon who had accosted her, lying motionless on the ground. "He doesn't seem to be breathing." Liwei's heart sank. He scrambled to the goon's side, turning the motionless form over with a hesitant touch. The man's face was a ghastly shade of blue, lifeless. Liwei felt a sickening lurch in his gut. In his righteous fury, he hadn't realized the lethal potential of his blow.

Guilt washed over him like a cold wave. "What have I done... How could I..." he whispered, his voice breaking. The reality of his actions hit him hard. His cultivation, meant for protection and growth, had led to a life being extinguished under his fist. The weight of this realization bore down on him, his eyes reflecting a turmoil of emotions. The villagers, still busy with the aftermath, cast worried glances at their young hero, sensing the inner conflict raging within him. Liwei stood there, amidst the chaos he had quelled, grappling with the harsh lessons of power and responsibility.