Chapter 34: Success

Time slipped away as Chen Xian circulated his internal energy and basked in the sunlight to heal his palms. By mid-morning, the bruising on his palms had completely dissipated.

He pulled his hand back from the sun, squeezed it into a fist, and then spread his fingers, observing the return of a healthy, lustrous glow to his skin. He had felt no discomfort throughout the entire process.

"The energy flows smoothly without any obstruction. It seems I’ve recovered!"

Only then did Chen Xian breathe a sigh of relief. "Good! It only took one morning. It seems practicing once a day is perfectly fine. I could even do it twice a day, perhaps once more in the afternoon. No, better not to overreach; once a day is enough. I’ll spend the afternoon digesting these insights into my power before attempting the next session. That should be sufficient."

Chen Xian reconsidered and decided against pushing himself. While he could technically force another explosive release of *Ming Jin* (Bright Power) in the afternoon—and his palms would likely recover under this weather—the transition from *Ming Jin* to *An Jin* (Dark Power) was primarily a matter of enlightenment. If he grasped it, the barrier between the two could shatter in an instant; if he didn't, no amount of force in his *Ming Jin* would ever lead him to *An Jin*.

Chen Xian understood this and refused to be shortsighted. Instead, he prepared to spend the afternoon organizing the changes in his power, etching them into his mind. Though a single session of insight wasn't enough to master *An Jin*, it provided a start. Through repeated bursts of *Ming Jin* and the accumulation of these insights, quantity would eventually lead to a qualitative change. That would be the moment he truly mastered *An Jin*.

"Hoo..."

Taking a deep breath, Chen Xian calmed the surging energy within him. With noon approaching and his experiment concluded, he had no reason to linger in the residential compound. He headed upstairs, opened the door, and found Chen Qiqi playing on her phone. His parents had not yet gone on holiday and would not be returning for lunch; it was only during these times that Chen Qiqi could play with her phone so unrestrainedly.

Seeing her so engrossed, Chen Xian did not disturb her. She hadn't owned a phone before, having only used his or their mother's during holidays, so the novelty was natural. He figured she would lose interest after a while. With this thought, he entered his room and began to recall the sensations and changes that occurred after his power scattered that morning, analyzing and organizing every detail in his mind.

"After the *Ming Jin* exploded, it split into several fine threads of power. These were not as fierce as the original *Ming Jin*, but they still possessed destructive force—otherwise, they wouldn't have caused those bruises on my palms," he mused, recording his observations one by one.

...

The morning sun rose in the east. With the New Year only days away, even those who worked had begun their holidays, and the residential compound was livelier. Downstairs, more people were exercising in the sun—not just the elderly, but some young people as well, adding a touch of vitality to the usually quiet neighborhood.

Chen Xian, as always, faced the sun, silently circulating his energy. He gathered a wisp of power, guided it through his body, and finally sent it into his arm. After several days of experimentation, his understanding of *An Jin* had grown, and a breakthrough felt imminent—as if it were just a thin layer of paper waiting to be pierced.

He cleared his mind and focused his full attention on his arm. As the power traveled, he could see the muscles beneath his skin twitching, as if something was snaking its way down his limb. Once the power reached his palm, he suddenly clenched his splayed fingers, as if trying to crush the air itself.

*Snap.*

In the next second, visible ripples of air surged from his palm, transforming into rings of white heat that dissipated into the surroundings. Chen Xian was accustomed to this sight and paid it no mind, focusing instead on the sensations in his arm.

*Sssss...*

A faint sound emanated from his palm. Chen Xian looked down to see a thin thread of blood seeping from his finger. His eyes lit up—the barrier to *An Jin* had shattered.

"This is the feeling!"

He calmed his heart to carefully experience the change in his fingertips. "An Jin is the 'soft power' of the fist. Soft does not mean weak. Though my finger bled, I felt no fierce, explosive force; it broke through silently, without a trace."

"This feeling..."

In that moment, ignoring the wound on his finger, Chen Xian began to practice his martial arts right there in the compound. As he moved, the power within him was mobilized, flowing in streams along his arms. The style he practiced was recorded in the *Dragon-Tiger Pellet Scripture*, a technique defined by grand, sweeping movements. Chen Xian had reached a high level of proficiency in it, and even the non-practitioners in the compound could sense something extraordinary about his movements, drawing the eyes of passersby. However, after watching for a moment, they lost interest; not being martial artists themselves, they couldn't grasp the deeper nuances.

Chen Xian was oblivious to them, his entire being immersed in the power flowing through his body. He sensed another, faint, subtle force circulating within his original power. Had he not been contemplating the aftermath of his *Ming Jin* explosions for the past few days, he never would have discovered it—it was simply too minute, almost non-existent.

As he continued his routine, his internal power converged in his arms at a precise moment, and he thrust his fist forward with lightning speed. The air did not explode as it usually did, yet he could feel his power discharging—unlike the *Ming Jin* of the past.

A smile spread across his face. He slowly withdrew his fist, standing still in the compound, basking in the morning sun as he quietly savored this transformation.