Martial Uncle’s teasing left them no choice but to wait until tomorrow.

Dinner was another wild vegetable stew, which initially, Tao Ci found hard to adjust from the rich flavors of his past life. Ironically, despite the additives and unhealthy foods, those flavors still held a special allure compared to the bland wild yam dishes here.

“Medicine is three parts poison,” as they say. Even though the elders removed the toxins, only the elders themselves could stomach the taste.

Surprisingly, everyone else ate heartily, even fighting for seconds, making the meal seem strangely enjoyable. Speed mattered less than situational awareness; the hint of movement would send a few swift eaters rushing for the pot.

Eventually, Tao Ci grew accustomed to—or rather, gave up on—expecting flavorful meals. Eating became a mechanical act, essential for growing in height and strength—imperative for a future protagonist.

After dinner, Tao Ci rested briefly before heading to the training ground, a rough, human-carved clearing. Despite its uneven surface, it was ideal for practice. Training in the courtyard would draw unwanted attention, undermining the secrecy behind the saying, “An hour on stage takes ten years of practice.”

In his musings, Tao Ci began his nightly practice. Though Chaoyang Sect had fallen, the basic martial arts for children on Jiuyang Continent aimed at physical enhancement, avoiding any insights into the Dao.

These foundational martial arts increased flexibility and overall strength, improving various abilities like power, endurance, and balance. Even without becoming a cultivator, one would at least be a strong and healthy person.

"Ha! Hah!" Tao Ci's sweat dripped steadily, undeterred as he executed perfect, graceful movements. He believed in his remarkable potential, driven to build a solid foundation for future success.

Every night he practiced on this training ground, rain or shine. This dedication cured him of diseases that plagued his prior life’s sedentary habits, boosting his immune system and overall health, which brought him immense satisfaction.

Lost in his movements, Tao Ci felt the world around him quieting. Each deliberate motion unfolded meaningfully, martial arts practiced countless times, as natural as eating or sleeping.

As time passed, he felt the wind dancing with his arms, the leaves moving in time with his steps, stepping forward and back with his footfalls. The forest’s wild frogs croaked in harmony with his swaying body.

One hand rising, one hand descending, he held a radiant moonlight glow between his hands, unaware, eyes closed, feeling the intent and rhythm of each movement.

The moonlight dispersed as he spread his hands, then drawing a circle with his right hand and positioning his left hand powerfully to his si

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