Xiao Huzi sat in a comfortable posture on the ground with his back straight and with his hands resting near the Dantian (abdomen) without further paying attention to the surrounding chatting children. He then closed his eyes and started to regulate his breathing.

He then focused his awareness on the Dantian and started visualizing it as a glowing core of light or energy. With each inhalation, he visualized natural energy from the surroundings gathering into the Dantian.

With each exhalation, he imagined the Dantian compressing the natural energy into a denser, more refined state. Through steady breathing and visualization, he imagined the warmth of natural energy pooling like a tiny ember in his belly. Suddenly, his Dantian began to stir.

With his Dantian active, Xiao Huzi directed the natural energy downward to the Huiyin Point at the base of his body. Xiao Huzi then visualized natural energy rising along his spine through the Governing Vessel and it passed through acupoints such as Mingmen (Lower Back), Dazhui (Base of the Neck), and finally it reached the top of his head, the Baihui Point. From there, it descended down his front, completing the small circulation.

....

The Sect Leader of the Iron Vein Sect, Bo Chen, stood atop a rocky outcrop overlooking the courtyard where disciples tirelessly practiced the Vein Surge Fist. His sharp, seasoned eyes scanned their forms with a critical yet approving gaze.

“Good. Very good. Strength is born from suffering,” he murmured, his voice like low thunder. “Only through relentless discipline can one achieve greatness. The body is a weapon—one that must be forged like iron in a furnace, through heat, pressure, and time. There are no shortcuts on the martial path.”

His words carried the weight of decades of cultivation and discipline. Bo Chen folded his arms, his expression as firm as tempered steel, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. None of the disciples were slacking; their dedication pleased him.

However, his attention soon shifted. Beyond the main training ground, a group of small children peeked through a half-open door, their wide eyes fixed on the older disciples. The youngsters, no older than seven or eight, were clumsily mimicking the Vein Surge Fist.

Their movements were awkward, their balance shaky, but their serious expressions made the sight almost comical.

Bo Chen let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Those little brats… They’ve barely begun to build their foundations, yet they’re already dreaming of mastering techniques beyond their reach. Admirable, but foolish.”

He sighed deeply, his amusement tinged with concern. Vein Surge Fist wasn’t an advanced technique, but it required a stable foundation and a trained body. For these children, whose meridians were as fragile as spider silk, attempting such techniques was akin to courting disaster.

“If they force this too early,” Bo Chen muttered, his tone darkening, “they’ll cripple themselves before their journey even begins.”

With purposeful strides, he began descending toward the children, intent on stopping their reckless attempts. But then, something caught his eye—a boy sitting cross-legged, his eyes closed in serene concentration.

Bo Chen froze mid-step. His eyes narrowed, and his heart skipped a beat. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light. But no, it was real. A faint, almost imperceptible aura of natural energy was gathering around the boy.

The Sect Leader’s breath hitched. “No… it can’t be.” His trained senses honed in on the boy, scrutinizing every detail. The child wasn’t just absorbing natural energy—he was refining it into internal energy and circulating it through his meridians.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Bo Chen’s jaw slackened as if thunder had struck him. “Impossible,” he whispered. “He’s barely seven years old! How is he not rupturing his meridians?”

The boy, however, sat perfectly still, his small frame enveloped in a soft, white glow. There was no tension in his posture, no strain on his face. His breathing was steady, his expression tranquil.

To Bo Chen, the scene was nothing short of miraculous. He muttered to himself, “The meridians of a child this young can’t handle Internal Energy. It’s reckless—even suicidal—to attempt such a thing without proper cultivation. And yet...”

The Sect Leader’s mind raced. Before reaching the Meridian Strengthening Stage, refining internal energy was universally regarded as madness. Meridians needed to be tempered through rigorous training before they could endure the flow of Internal Energy. Otherwise, they would rupture, leading to agonizing pain or even death.

But this boy—this unassuming child—was defying all known logic. Not only was he refining internal energy, but his meridians showed no signs of strain. The energy flowed smoothly, like a gentle river through well-carved channels.

Bo Chen’s voice trembled slightly, a rare occurrence for the indomitable Sect Leader. “How… how is this possible? A mere child... cultivating Internal Energy?”

The Sect Leader's intense gaze did not go unnoticed. The other children who had been sneakily mimicking the Vein Surge Fist, froze mid-motion. Their minds erupting into a chaotic flurry of thoughts.

'Oh no, oh no, he’s looking this way! Does he know I stole an extra meat bun last week? Wait, does that even matter right now?!'

'Why is Sect Leader so quiet? Quiet is bad. Quiet means he’s planning something… something painful!'

'Should I fake fainting? Maybe he’ll send me to the infirmary instead of punishing me. But what if they make me drink that gross bitter tea?'

The chubbiest of the kids gulped, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. 'I should’ve stayed home today. I could’ve faked a stomachache… but noooo, I had to be here for ‘training.’ Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

A particularly nervous girl stole a glance at Xiao Huzi. 'Look at him, so calm. It’s like he doesn’t even know what’s coming. Or… wait. What if he’s already fainted?'

Another boy rubbed his face anxiously. 'What if Sect Leader punishes us for copying martial techniques? I’m too young to die! I haven’t even tasted roasted pheasant yet!'

"S-Sect Leader..." one of them stammered, trembling.

The children quickly dropped their poses, standing in a sloppy line with faces as pale as ghosts. Yet, amidst all this chaos, Xiao Huzi continued practicing the Ironflow Technique, blissfully unaware of the trouble brewing around him.

Bo Chen waved his hand, dismissing the children. “Leave,” he said, his voice calm.

The kids didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled out of the courtyard like a flock of startled chickens, whispering amongst themselves as they glanced nervously back at Xiao Huzi.

“We’re free! Wait, no, Huzi’s still there. Poor guy. He’s about to learn why they call it the Iron Palm of Discipline.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna get smacked so hard his ancestors will feel it,” another added, half whispering, half giggling nervously.

“I bet Sect Leader will make him sweep the whole mountain for a week. No, a month! With a toothbrush!”

“No, worse! Sect Leader might make him kneel on the porcupine mat!” another whispered dramatically, his voice trembling at the thought of such a legendary punishment.

As they turned their backs, some couldn’t help but glance back at Xiao Huzi. Their expressions were a mix of pity and dread.

“Do you think he’ll cry?”

“Nah, Huzi’s too dumb to realize he’s in trouble.”

Bo Chen, meanwhile, paid no attention to their antics. His gaze was firmly fixed on Xiao Huzi. The boy was still drawing in natural energy, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For someone his age, this level of control was unthinkable.

“This boy…” Bo Chen murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “Is he a prodigy—or just too foolish to realize he should have exploded by now? This matter is too big now. I should call Grand Elder and other higher-ups now.”

He decided to wait. Whatever Xiao Huzi was doing, it was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Whether he was genius or not, the answer would reveal itself soon enough.

Xia Huzi didn't know how much time had passed. It was as if a long time had passed, but also it felt like only a moment had passed. It was a strange feeling. Finally, a small amount of internal energy condensed silently within Xiao Huzi's Dantian.

“This should be the internal energy that I have refined right. I have circulated the natural energy throughout my entire body. It is definitely beneficial for my body. Circulating it has opened and cleared all the blockages in my meridians. It has also strengthened my foundation." Xiao Huzi speculated in his mind.

The original Xiao Huzi was just a seven-year-old boy. He only knew a little about the path of martial arts. But he knew the strength of martial artists was divided into four basic stages. The four stages were, respectively, Body Tempering, Meridian Strengthening, Stone Core Stage, and lastly, Titanium soul stage.

All the stages were divided into four sub-stages, namely early, mid, late, and peak. The peak combat power present in all of the Dao Zhu Dynasty was at the Peak of Titanium Soul Stage.

As Xiao Huzi was contemplating, an unsettling silence enveloped him. His earlier excitement and curiosity were replaced by a creeping unease.

"Wait... why is it so quiet all of a sudden? Did something happen?" Xiao Huzi thought in his mind and opened his eyes and scanned the empty courtyard. The disciples and his partners, who had been practicing nearby, had vanished without a trace.

Even the usual chatter and laughter were gone and replaced by an oppressive stillness. Because he was focused too much on refining natural energy, he did not notice the sudden silence in the surrounding environment.