Thinking about it carefully, this ghost place really does seem a bit off.

Wen Yan confirmed it with Zhuge Wanjun, plus the hint from the Natural Enemy profession, so he stopped paying attention to Old Meng's affairs.

At least, he didn't have to worry about Old Meng retaliating afterwards; the guy truly had no intention of making enemies.

Zhuge Wanjun said Old Meng, this shady trader, his flaw is being a mercenary, but his advantage is he never sells fakes. Plus, no matter how ugly things get, as long as he's willing to do business with you, he doesn't care about anything else.

Wen Yan put away the small gold grain. For something that could make even a shady trader's eyes light up, it surely wasn't simple.

He had heard those two muttered phrases clearly.

Previously he thought this thing might not be of much use for now, not that versatile, because they all said the Water God's cultivation was more about accumulating merit; everyone—and every place—was different.

Now, he figured this thing might actually have some use after all.

He decided to put it away for now and find someone tomorrow to frame the painting, hang it up inside the house, so it wouldn't get damp and damaged by the time he came back from Southern Heaven.

He checked the time, wasn't feeling sleepy, and went to the backyard to train his fist technique.

These days, with all kinds of things happening, his training had been somewhat neglected—not like the hardcore routine he used to have.

He no longer had that anxiety that Scorching Sun would disappear, so everything felt different now.

Now that the big things were finally settled, he didn't activate Scorching Sun, just practiced two slow rounds first.

After those two rounds, he could feel his Yang energy draining away like flowing water.

He didn't stop, and continued for a third round.

After the third round, he already felt his Yang energy dropping close to what it was before any training.

With the fourth round, he started to feel cold, the night wind carried a chill of Yin energy.

After finishing the fifth round, he felt weak, Yang energy nearly completely depleted. When he looked up, everything before his eyes seemed somehow different from usual.

He saw Old Zhao's building radiating gray Yin Qi, with the Yin Qi bound inside the villa's perimeter, most of it rising like a huge chimney straight into the sky.

The whole villa area, at night, was emanating Yin Qi from the ground—thicker than outside the villa complex.

But in houses where people lived for a long time, the Yin Qi was clearly being suppressed by human Yang energy.

A strange feeling welled up in his heart.

He couldn't help but wonder—without Scorching Sun, if he kept training Scorching Sun Fist like this, wasn't that basically reverse cultivation? The more he trained, the less Yang energy he'd have.

What would happen when it got as low as it could go?

After all, he didn't even have a soul.

He was thinking about this when a little brat's piercing cry came to his ears.

Wen Yan sighed inwardly. Forget it, best not to look for trouble.

He took out Warm Jade, activated Scorching Sun, Yang energy blessing himself, and continued training.

This time was the usual routine he'd always practiced.

After another two rounds, with Yang energy full to the brim and about to overflow, he started thinking it was time to begin the second phase of the Scorching Sun Fist.

Every martial artist training in this world was pretty much the same: the first phase focused on strengthening blood and Qi, then growing Yang energy.

The only thing was, Wen Yan was on a different path—borrowing external objects through Scorching Sun to boost his Yang energy first.

As long as Yang energy stayed full and kept flushing through him, he could first form a rough main "trunk," finish a full-body circulation, and then move on to the next step, boosting blood and Qi.

Compared to most martial artists, it was the complete opposite.

Most martial artists nourished their blood and Qi mainly through eating—meat, supplements.

That's why there were always legends of ancient generals eating a dou of rice and ten jin of meat per meal, downing a hu of wine.

Which is roughly a dozen or more jin of rice and meat, and twenty or thirty jin of wine per meal.

Especially in the first and second phases, as one improved, the appetite would skyrocket.

"Scholarship is for the poor, martial arts for the rich"—even now, most families couldn't afford dozens of jin of beef each meal.

When you think about it, buying some inferior Warm Jade for training is way more cost-effective.

Qin Kun said, for disciples with a bit of talent, with regular boxing techniques, the first stage—laying the foundation from childhood and then starting formally after puberty—usually takes three or four years.

But for most people, that's as far as they get—maybe push through their twenties at their energetic peak, and then one step further.

But for this kind, the future is basically set in stone.

And given the current era, even reaching the second stage isn't a big deal—you could still be knocked out in one go.

The real benefit is for physical health and resisting supernatural evil entities; brawling with people is just the low-end stuff.

Ever since the spiritual qi resurgence—especially when it sped up ten years ago—basic boxing techniques have quietly become widespread in some places.

In the military and law enforcement, basically everyone has practiced—not for skill, but for fitness and boosting Yang energy.

The truly talented are picked out right from the start.

Wen Yan wasn't cocky or impatient, making steady progress; with Scorching Sun, as long as he worked hard, he'd reach Qin Kun's level sooner or later.

The first phase of Scorching Sun Fist is just Yang energy surging through the whole body, instinctively constructing the main "branches" in the way that suits oneself best—at this stage, its effect on blood and Qi is so-so.

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