C10 Beginner

Meng Yang was ecstatic, his face flushed with excitement. It wasn't until the stern-faced Lee Shen called out to him several times that he snapped back to reality. Despite this interruption, Meng Yang's heart was still bubbling with excitement, like water on the verge of boiling over.

"Thank you, Lee Shen. I will definitely redouble my efforts..." With his cheeks still glowing, Meng Yang quickly expressed his gratitude and turned to leave. His spirits remained high as he walked away, his mind buzzing with exhilaration.

Meng Yang needed no introduction to the soul stone; he recognized it as a rare treasure capable of absorbing and storing spiritual energy from the heavens within its form. It was not only a catalyst for cultivators to break through realms more swiftly but also a vital currency in their transactions. Containing pure spiritual energy, it could permeate one's body without the need for refinement, forming the cornerstone upon which many noble families were built.

Yet, what thrilled him even more were the changes in his pupils and the emergence of new information and functions. He hadn't forgotten that these changes were all triggered by his contact with the soul stone. In his excitement, he focused intently on the plus sign that had appeared in his right pupil, which reminded him of a game interface from his past life, where attributes would increase with each level up.

With a sense of curiosity, Meng Yang mentally tapped the plus sign next to the flesh puppet skill. The information that subsequently appeared left him astounded, and he burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Success! 10 wealth value points consumed, increasing flesh puppet proficiency by 100. Current proficiency: 5285/10000."

"Damn, this is the rhythm of my rise..." Meng Yang thought, amazed.

He was acutely aware of the challenges in cultivating the Scripture of the Triune Soul. This difficulty might have been influenced by the innate talent of the body's previous owner. Yet, the introduction of wealth value had Meng Yang dismissing the world's conventional views on talent. With sufficient wealth value, he could continuously grow stronger, potentially surpassing all unparalleled prodigies. With such a prospect, what was there to fear? What could possibly hinder his progress?

Moreover, Meng Yang had a hunch that once his wealth value reached a certain threshold, his pupils would undergo another transformation. With that in mind, he couldn't help but think of wealth value as the ultimate power player, orchestrating his ascent from the shadows.

"Feeding this big boss is the key. Once I do, I, Meng Yang, will command the elements and travel anywhere in this grand world," Meng Yang said, his body quivering with mounting excitement, his every hair seemingly standing on end.

"Everything comes down to strength. No, it's all about wealth value..."

"I never imagined my cheat would be so starved for cash."

...

Back in his room, Meng Yang didn't hesitate to toss the soul stone into the water tank.

Though his pupils absorbed the soul stones, converting them into wealth value, the stones remained intact.

Meng Yang was baffled, but no matter how hard he pondered, he couldn't unravel the mystery.

Nan Chenhai watched the whole process, but Meng Yang was unconcerned.

After all, soul stones only reveal their power when one's strength reaches the Innate Realm.

Until then, they're nothing more than attractive, translucent rocks.

As the saying goes, one shouldn't harbor ill will, but it's wise to be cautious.

Meng Yang wasn't worried about Chen Nanhai in the room, nor the unconscious dark-skinned man. His concern was Ma Qingshan and his crew.

With no pockets to hold them and nowhere to hide the soul stones, the three-foot-deep, one-foot-wide water tank seemed the safest bet.

"You're quite clever, kid. I thought you'd stash them under the bed or the pillow," Nan Chenhai remarked.

Meng Yang smirked, casting a glance at Nan Chenhai before suddenly asking, "Old Nan, you mentioned your days are numbered. What did you mean by that? Don't tell me it's as I feared—the Lin family has...?"

He trailed off, his hand miming a throat-slitting gesture.

Seeing Meng Yang's serious face, Nan Chenhai sighed and shook his head, lost for words.

"Here's a proposal, Old Nan: you help me improve my martial arts, and I'll do something for you in return," Meng Yang offered, his eyes gleaming with shrewdness, his words stirring a significant reaction from Nan Chenhai.

"Are you serious?"

Meng Yang nodded earnestly before breaking into a smile. "Don't think I haven't noticed, Elder Nan. You've been wanting to speak up but feared I'd turn you down, so you've been subtly testing the waters. But I get it—if one day I, Meng Yang, achieve my goal and become a core disciple of the Lin family, I'll do my best to help you with your issue."

Nan Chenhai scrutinized Meng Yang's expression several times, his eyes narrowing slightly. After a moment of contemplation, his face softened into a faint smile. "That's all I needed to hear."

Meng Yang chuckled heartily and sauntered over to Nan Chenhai's bedside, gazing at him with the wide-eyed curiosity of a child. Nan Chenhai felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment under Meng Yang's intense gaze, almost prompting him to slap Meng Yang, who then urged him to get on with it.

Meng Yang's statement had a double meaning; he hadn't specified what he wanted Nan Chenhai to talk about, as he was actually trying to suss out his secrets. Unfortunately for Meng Yang, Nan Chenhai, with over forty years of experience, quickly picked up on the subtext.

With a breezy smile, Nan Chenhai said, "Last time, I mentioned that your martial arts lacked a certain force."

Seeing that Nan Chenhai had chosen to focus on martial arts rather than asking for help, Meng Yang became serious. This time, his cultivation practice left him feeling more exhausted than usual. Yet, for the first time, a whistling wind could be heard accompanying the Soul Stealing Palm and Water Serpent Style.

Each movement was executed with the resolve of a man facing his last moments, resulting in a gratifying release of energy. "Your posture is incorrect. Whether you're kicking or using your palm, remember it's not about arm strength, but the power from your waist."

"Hmm, the force is there, but you're not able to control it at will. Try again."

"I may not understand the principles behind your Water Serpent Style, but it all comes down to stability."

"If your stance is shaky, how can you exert enough force to repel an opponent? Yes, that's it. Keep going."

"No, no, no. The Soul Stealing Palm should be executed like this. It's meant to be a surprise attack. Your palm is too slow; it needs to be faster. If you're still, you should be like a rainbow; if you move, you should be like thunder. Otherwise, before you can snatch your enemy's heart, they'll have already taken your life. And where's the humor in that?"

Time flew by, and before he knew it, three days had passed.

Throughout these days, Meng Yang, under the tutelage of Nan Chenhai and diligently practicing his martial arts, had improved remarkably.

Setting aside the rapid increase in his proficiency, for the first time, Meng Yang truly felt the exhilaration of sweating profusely from his training efforts.

It wasn't until he was completely spent, barely able to stand, that Meng Yang ceased his practice.

Though night had fallen, his excitement was palpable.

He had planned to max out the proficiency of both the Soul Stealing Palm and the Water Serpent Style by this evening.

But his priorities had shifted; his thoughts were consumed by the mantra: A warrior must fight, a warrior must conquer.

Soul Stealing Palm: Proficiency 9888/10000 (+) Beginner.

Flesh Puppet: Proficiency 9541/10000 (+) Beginner.

Water Serpent Style: Proficiency 9864/10000 (+) Beginner.

Gazing at Nan Chenhai, who had already succumbed to sleep, Meng Yang inhaled deeply, his anticipation for the next day's sparring session soaring.

The following morning, Meng Yang awoke reinvigorated and freshened up.

By the time the training ground guards reached the Sparring Courtyard, he was already eagerly awaiting them in the yard.

In about the time it takes for half an incense stick to burn, a group of forty to fifty individuals had assembled and set off for the training ground.

Since being placed in the intermediate level training ground, Meng Yang had been integrated into the ranks of the intermediate training partners.

Yet today, for some reason, there were scarcely any core disciples seeking out training partners for practice.

Meng Yang and the other training partners had been standing for a good two hours when finally, six individuals departed.

"Do they have holidays in this otherworld?" he mused, shaking his head with a chuckle.

His smile was brief, however, as his expression abruptly darkened.

His eyes widened in alarm, turning a startling shade of blood red.

"It's him! It's him..."

There, approaching the sparring platform, was a young man in white, his eyes exuding malevolence.

The jagged scar that ran from his forehead to the tip of his nose made the young man appear rough and unsightly, fueling Meng Yang's heart with an unstoppable rage. The original owner of the body had suffered a humiliating and grievous defeat right here, beaten to the brink of death.

Perhaps due to the fusion of memories, Meng Yang could feel an overwhelming and uncontrollable surge of murderous intent within his chest. This intent was haughty and ferocious, like a wild inferno in the darkness.

Not only did it unsettle the numerous training partners around him, but it also caught the attention of a sinister-looking young man who was approaching.