“You had fun without me, you little shit!” Lao Yu’s disheveled head appeared above him. “What do you think I’ve been training you for? You should’ve called me if you were going to fight. I wanted to watch...”

  “Do I look like I was having fun?” Zhang Min asked calmly.

  “Uh… kind of,” the shaggy bandit scratched his chin, looking him over from head to toe. “And what did you tell old Lin about me?”

  “You tried to buy wine instead of medicine?” Zhang Min asked.

  “Uh… no,” the shaggy drunk lied, staring him straight in the eye.

  “He did,” came a voice from behind him.

  “You’re all so boring. You know why? You drink too little.”

  “All right, all right, calm down,” Lin Bo patted him on the shoulder. “We brought what you asked for, Brother Zhang.” He held up a small bundle. “How do we use this?”

  “You need to prepare a bath—one packet per barrel of water,” Lao Yu answered for him.

  “Put a beaten man in hot water?”

  “Why hot? Let it cool a bit.”

  “We don’t have a tub. Will a barrel do?”

  “Perfect!”

  When the peasants finished their work, they prepared a bath for Zhang Min using an oak barrel, into which they poured a bundle of herbs pre-boiled in a kettle. In the dusk, the brown water looked almost black. With the help of the Lin brothers, Zhang Min climbed into the barrel and submerged himself up to his neck in the healing brew. To better absorb the medicine, he used his breathing and body-recovery technique, the same one he used during meditation.

  Above him, the sky glittered with stars. From the forest came the rustle of leaves, the chirping of insects, and the relentless buzzing of mosquitoes near his ears. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air filled with the scent of the woods. The warm bath soothed his body, while the breeze cooled his face. After two hours, the water had completely cooled, and the pain was gone. Only a faint tingling remained in his skin and muscles, like tiny ants running back and forth.

  “Same as before,” Zhang Min murmured to himself. “After a beating, the flow of warmth in my body grows stronger and moves more smoothly. The scroll doesn’t say a word about this… what a strange martial art.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The next day, he was able to stand on his own and even walk, though he limped a little. The healing power of the herbs exceeded all expectations. Eager to recover faster, Zhang Min slowly carried water, warmed it, and prepared another bath for himself. In the shade of a broad tree near the barn, he soaked in the herbal solution, using the technique from the scroll. Two hours later, the water cooled, and a dark, greasy film formed on the surface, like rancid oil.

  “Is that from me?” Zhang Min said in surprise. “Am I really that dirty? What’s happening?”

  He reheated the water, washed off the greasy residue, dried himself with a clean cloth, and felt as if he’d been reborn. His body felt incredibly light. His injuries were half healed, as if a week or more had passed. Only bruises and a faint ache in his bones remained where the hardest blows had landed.

  “Brother Lin Bo,” Zhang Min found the older peasant near the chicken coop. “I wanted to thank you for your help.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. No need for thanks.”

  “That won’t do. Here, take this for the four of you.” He handed Lin Bo the two remaining silver coins.

  Sometimes you have to be generous, or people will stop helping you, Zhang Min thought. Now they’re the ones who’ll feel indebted to me.

  “What’s this for?”

  The other former peasants approached, having caught the gleam of silver from afar, and shifted their gazes expectantly from the coins to Lin Bo and back again. His younger brother, Lin Bin, looked especially anxious, barely restraining himself from grabbing the money first. Smiling, Zhang Min took Lin Bo’s hand and pressed the coins into his palm.

  “Keep looking after me,” he said politely, bowing slightly.

  “Of course! Don’t even mention it!” Lin Bin exclaimed, patting him on the shoulder, afraid his older brother might return the money.

  “Brother Zhang, say no more!” Lu Han placed a hand on his chest. “I’ll make you the best bean stew you’ve ever tasted!”

  “All right,” Lin Bo agreed. Everyone seemed pleased, and he had no choice but to accept the payment.

  Over the next three days, Zhang Min continued his herbal baths, using up half his supply of herbs but making a full recovery. Had he not experienced the healing power of the plants himself, he would never have believed such a thing possible. On the sixth day, his body had strengthened enough for him to return to training.

  From early morning until late at night, drenched in sweat, he practiced the technique from the scroll, a movement like an intricate martial dance. He repeated it over and over, urging the boiling energy within to flow through his veins, to wash through every cell of his body. When he finished, Zhang Min meditated until dawn, until dew gathered in his hair and the first rays of sunlight began to sting his eyes.

  “Uaaah,” he yawned and stretched, flexing his joints. “A new day.”

  In just one night, he had not only shed the remnants of his injuries but also grown stronger than before. Though he still hadn’t reached the first stage of body tempering, he could feel himself getting close — just a little further. Zhang Min felt renewed, rested, and full of strength. In the cool morning air, steam rose from his bare back, though he had spent the entire night shirtless. No one would have recognized the former dockworker and drunkard in his solid, well-built figure.

  “So Tu Hama doesn’t plan to kill me,” Zhang Min said, rolling his shoulders. “He wants to humiliate me, break me like a dog. Fine, let him send more of his lackeys my way. I’ll gladly accept his generous gifts. Let them bring me money! Ha-ha-ha! I’ll only grow stronger! Ha-ha-ha!”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Lu Han asked nervously. “We came to work, and he’s… like that.”

  “Poor fellow,” Lin Bo sighed. “Looks like they hit him on the head too hard.”