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Chapter 4 - The Grueling Path to Power

White Night City stood as a stark contrast to the dangerous wilderness beyond its towering walls. Inside its bustling streets was the famed Iron Martial Arts School, a sanctuary for those who sought strength. The school was a sprawling complex of stone buildings, training yards, and dormitories. Its gates were emblazoned with an imposing insignia: a clenched fist wreathed in steel vines, symbolizing unyielding strength.

Ye Chen stood at the entrance, his heart pounding as he gazed up at the towering gates. He had made the journey here with the determination to step onto the path of martial arts. The faint murmurs of students training within reached his ears, blending with the rhythmic clang of weapons and the sharp cries of effort.

Inside, the school was teeming with activity. Apprentices sparred in sandy courtyards, their movements sharp and precise. Instructors barked orders, their voices cutting through the cacophony. Wooden dummies lined one side of the courtyard, each scarred and worn from countless strikes.

Ye Chen was greeted by Du Hai, a tall, stern-faced instructor with a no-nonsense demeanor. His sharp eyes studied Ye Chen briefly before speaking.

"You're late to start martial arts at your age, Ye Chen," Du Hai remarked, his voice as hard as the stones beneath their feet. "Are you certain this is the path you wish to tread?"

"Yes, Master Du," Ye Chen replied firmly, his resolve unshaken.

Du Hai nodded. "Very well. The fee is ten taels of silver a month. Pay it now, and you can begin."

Ye Chen handed over the silver without hesitation. This was nearly all the money he had earned from forging, but he knew it was a necessary sacrifice. Du Hai took the payment and led him deeper into the school.

---

The martial arts hall was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Rows of apprentices trained tirelessly, their faces set in grim determination. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint tang of blood. Weapons of every kind hung on the walls, their polished surfaces gleaming in the sunlight streaming through high windows.

Du Hai stopped before a massive iron cauldron filled with jagged stones. "Since you're new, you'll begin with the basics. Iron Martial Arts School teaches IronHand as its foundational skill. It's a skin-tempering technique designed to strengthen your hands and prepare you for the rigors of combat."

He gestured to the stones. "Your first task is to grind your hands against these stones. It will hurt—more than you can imagine. The goal is to tear your skin and force your body to heal stronger. When your hands are bloody, you'll apply a secret medicine to speed up recovery. With repeated effort, you'll temper your hands to the level of a Stone Skin Realm warrior."

Ye Chen listened intently, his determination undeterred even as Du Hai continued.

"Don't think it's easy," Du Hai warned. "Out of ten apprentices, only one ever reaches the Stone Skin Realm. The rest give up or fail. Mastering Iron Hand requires not just effort but talent, resilience, and resources. Each application of secret medicine costs one tael of silver. If you can't afford it, you'll have to use inferior remedies from outside, which slows your progress significantly."

Ye Chen clenched his fists. The odds were grim, but he refused to waver.

---

Du Hai demonstrated the breathing technique that accompanied the training, his movements slow and deliberate. "This breathing method enhances the body's natural healing and increases the effectiveness of your training. Focus your mind on your blood flow and synchronize your breaths with each grind against the stones."

After ensuring Ye Chen understood the basics, Du Hai left him to begin.

Ye Chen approached the cauldron, its jagged stones gleaming menacingly. He hesitated for a moment, then plunged his hands into the pile.

The pain was immediate and excruciating. The sharp edges tore into his skin with every movement, sending jolts of agony up his arms. His breathing quickened, but he forced himself to remember Du Hai's instructions. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and began to synchronize his movements with his breath.

The minutes dragged on like hours. Blood dripped from his hands, staining the stones beneath him. Other apprentices glanced his way, some with pity, others with disdain. But Ye Chen paid them no mind. He focused solely on the task at hand.

---

By the time his hands were reduced to raw, bloody messes, Ye Chen staggered to the medicine counter. The attendant handed him a small jar of thick, green paste in exchange for a tael of silver. The expense stung, but the relief the medicine brought was immediate. The cooling sensation soothed his torn skin, and the faint scent of herbs filled his nostrils.

"First day, huh?" the attendant remarked, eyeing Ye Chen's battered hands. "You've got a long road ahead."

Ye Chen nodded silently, his eyes burning with resolve.

---

The next morning, Ye Chen returned to the training yard, his hands still sore but functional. The other apprentices were already hard at work, their grimaces betraying the pain they endured. Some were sparring under the watchful eyes of instructors, while others practiced forms with wooden staffs and swords.

As Ye Chen resumed his training, the days began to blur into a grueling routine. He spent hours grinding his hands against the stones, each session leaving him bloodied and exhausted. The secret medicine became his lifeline, its cost a constant reminder of the stakes.

But with each passing day, his hands grew stronger. The pain became more bearable, and the once-foreign breathing technique became second nature.

---

At night, Ye Chen often sat alone in the apprentice dormitory, his thoughts racing. He had taken the first steps on a perilous journey, but the dangers of the world beyond the school walls loomed large in his mind. The streets of Red Night City were rife with danger—assassins, rogue cultivators, and even demonic beasts that occasionally breached the city's defenses.

Yet, as he stared at his scarred hands, Ye Chen felt a spark of hope. He was no longer the helpless boy who had struggled to survive in Red Night City. He was forging himself into something stronger, something unbreakable.

"This is only the beginning," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant clang of training weapons.