Chapter 28: What Is the Proper Path of Martial Arts? I Only Want to Speedrun the Unorthodox Path (Please Keep Reading)

To express his gratitude for Feng Mu’s psychological counseling, Wang Jian refused the black core Feng Mu offered him.

His reasoning was that since he had skipped work yesterday afternoon and the calamity corpse was not cremated together, Feng Mu had done all the work alone; therefore, there was no need for him to share in the black core that had been unearthed.

Such was the nature of a good man: reasonable, principled, and unwilling to take unearned advantages.

Feng Mu disliked such back-and-forth, so he accepted the black core and handed Wang Jian 200 yuan, as if buying it from him.

"We set these rules together, so we must abide by them. If I have something to take care of next time and you cremate something alone, would you just keep it all for yourself?" Feng Mu firmly stuffed the money into Wang Jian’s pocket.

Seeing that Feng Mu had put it this way, Wang Jian had no choice but to accept the money. He thought to himself, "As expected, Feng Mu is just like me—a truly good man."

Wang Jian pulled out his wallet to make change; the black core, no larger than a date pit, was not worth 200 yuan—black market merchants would pay at most 120.

"No need," Feng Mu said, waving him off. He offered a suggestion, "In the future, could you let me have your share of the black cores from the cremations? I’ll buy them at a flat rate of 200 each, regardless of size. It’ll save you the trip to the black market. How about it?"

"Why are you collecting black cores?" Wang Jian agreed; at 200 each, he wasn't losing out and it saved him trouble, but he was still a bit puzzled.

"My father is with the Constabulary, and I... *cough, cough*." Feng Mu stopped himself, a look of difficulty crossing his face. "In short, it’s a little secret of mine. Can you keep it for me?"

The word "Constabulary" was enough to trigger several associations in Wang Jian’s mind. Since he wasn't losing anything, he didn't press further and gave his word.

"I will keep your secret. I won't tell a soul," Wang Jian promised with great sincerity. To add weight to his words, he added, "Even if the Green Wolf Gang interrogates me, I won’t let a single word of your secret slip out, Feng Mu."

Feng Mu smiled and believed him.

Between the day and the afternoon, they had cremated seven calamity corpses.

Feng Mu had one more black core in his pocket, and Wang Jian had 200 yuan more in his wallet. Both were very satisfied.

Transporting, cremating, collecting, sealing the ashes, and cleaning and disinfecting the seven corpses took a total of three hours.

Excluding meal times, Feng Mu spent the remaining five hours practicing his forging gymnastics.

By the time he clocked out, his "edibility" had increased by another 4 points.

The growth rate was slightly slower than yesterday, likely because his internal blood reservoir had recovered somewhat, but it was still impressive.

Feng Mu did some mental math. Even if he stopped self-mutilating to drain blood later and only maintained this growth rate while practicing his forging gymnastics during work hours, it would only take another 10 days to fill the first stage of the Iron Eater.

He planned to clear his evening schedule to practice the [Crane Claw Technique], supplementing his immediate combat power to deal with the conspiracies and accidents brewing in the shadows.

Every day after finishing his forging gymnastics, Feng Mu would record the daily settlement data. Last week, it was usually 4:00 AM, and now that it was significantly earlier, he felt somewhat unaccustomed to it.

[Iron Eater: Stage 1]
[Edible Metals: 1]
[Absorbable Metal Properties: 1]
[Currently Detected Edible Metal—Ordinary Pig Iron, Edibility 56.7%.]

[Absorbed Property: Embryo Molding (White)]

"The chill in my body hasn't increased, but it's been replaced by a faint itching sensation, as if small ants are crawling inside my bones. Fortunately, it’s still within a tolerable range."

Feng Mu’s tolerance had been high in both of his lives; perhaps this was a racial talent innate to those at the bottom of the social ladder, commonly known as the physique of an ox or a horse.

Feng Mu flexed his wrists and muttered to himself, "It feels a bit like a wound scabbing over. So, am I growing new bone?"

He biked to a general store and spent a thousand yuan, buying 30 pounds of iron beads and a few bottles of mechanical lubricant. The shopkeeper threw in a burlap sack.

Because of the Green Wolf Gang’s bizarre attitude toward the investigation, Feng Mu had become less cautious in his actions—not because he had fewer concerns, but because he realized that caution was useless.

Since Ma Bin wasn't genuinely trying to catch the killer, it didn't matter if he was the true culprit or not.

What mattered was whom Ma Bin wanted to be the killer. If it was him, no amount of concealment would matter; the blame would surely be pinned on him.

If it wasn't him, then what was he bothering to conceal for?

This feeling of waiting for the judge to drop the gavel was very unpleasant. Even though Feng Mu was indeed the true killer, the fact that they were so openly intent on fabricating a miscarriage of justice made even the real killer want to cry foul.

He carried the burlap sack home, grabbed an iron basin from the bathroom, and returned to his bedroom.

Following the instructions of the [Crane Claw Technique], Feng Mu spread the iron beads across the basin, poured in the lubricant, and stirred them thoroughly with his hands.

After two minutes, the basin of iron beads and his ten fingers were all slick.

"Fix your gaze on a single iron bead on the surface of the basin, curl one finger like a hook, and sweep across it like a breeze. If you can precisely hook the targeted bead without touching the surrounding ones, it is considered a success."

"Ten consecutive successes with one finger, without a single error, is considered mastering one finger."

"Proceed to the next finger until all ten are mastered and infallible. Only then is the finger strength considered to have entered the threshold, and you may begin training the Crane Claw."

Feng Mu recalled the essence of the [Crane Claw Technique] in his mind, held his breath, and swept his right index finger across the basin.

*Clatter~*

The surface of the basin was marred by a depression, and the scattered iron beads clattered loudly.

Feng Mu looked down; his hooked finger was empty.

"The gesture was wrong. I was too slow when I hooked down. Again."

Feng Mu replayed the movement in his mind, summarized the lessons learned, and took a deep breath.

His gaze was like that of an eagle. He inhaled, imagining his fingers as crane claws, the uneven surface of the basin as a still lake, and that iron bead as a fish hiding beneath the surface.

In the next instant, his finger swept past, like a crane skimming the water—did the hook catch the bloody fish?

Feng Mu felt this visualization was very much in line with the true martial meaning of the [Crane Claw Technique].

Don't ask Feng Mu why he did this; the answer is the influence of the martial arts films from his past life. In those stories, whenever a protagonist linked martial arts to nature, they would achieve enlightenment and leap forward in their progress.

Then, Feng Mu looked at his fingernails, which had been split and were bleeding from the impact with the iron beads, and fell into deep thought.

Inside his hooked finger, aside from air, there was only his own blood and his fractured nail.

Feng Mu decided to switch fingers. He smoothed out the surface of the basin and began to try hooking again, over and over.

Failure!
Failure!
Failure!
Failure!
Success!
...

An hour later, all five fingernails were shattered, his fingertips were swollen and bruised, and his muscles and tendons were trembling.

"A total of 411 attempts, 370 failures, 41 successes. A success rate of 9.9%."

Feng Mu used a razor blade to prick his fingers and squeeze out the pooled blood. He sighed inwardly:

"The boost from [Frenzy Blood] doesn't seem to have much effect on the [Crane Claw Technique]. Is it because I haven't mastered the technique yet, or is this already the result of the boost, and otherwise, my success rate would be even more dismal?"

Feng Mu was not discouraged. He believed that with his hard work, he would eventually master the [Crane Claw Technique].

Although the recommended bone structure for the technique was 65, he was far from meeting that standard.

But Feng Mu didn't intend to train it to perfection or mastery; he just wanted to light up the skill icon.

Feng Mu felt uneasy: "49 points of bone structure should be enough. The only question is how long it will take—a day, a week, a month, or a year?"

He would succeed—he was certain of it. But...

Thinking of his [Forging Gymnastics], which still hadn't lit up its icon, Feng Mu felt he shouldn't be too confident and should prepare for a long, drawn-out battle... as if!

He was racing against time. Time was life!

"Forget it, I have to cheat!"

Feng Mu recognized the reality. Not only was his bone structure lacking, but his aptitude was likely just as mediocre. He feared he wouldn't make it on the path of orthodox martial arts. Fortunately, he had a "Plan B" for a shortcut.