Chapter 292: The Way of Heaven Loves Reincarnation

Bai Lang's roar, amplified by a copper‑skin horn, shook the entire training ground, and almost every county soldier covered their ears, showing pain. "You bunch of maggots in a dung heap! Can't handle a little noise? Crawl back to the dung heap and eat shit!" Bai Lang was ready to make a show today; he recalled Sergeant Major Li Aiermi's seamless long shot, loosened his tongue, and prepared to stomp these people's dignity into a dog‑shit pile with a sergeant‑major's style of speech.

In fact it wasn't necessary; these lowborn aren't modern high‑school conscripts, no need to deliberately crush their dignity and reforge them into battle machines. These lowborn already have little sense of self; essentially each is a cowardly yet ferocious killer.

But it didn't matter; it was just an insult, not a beheading, they could take it. Yet Bai Lang's filthy language caught them completely off guard; these lowborn had limited learning, most couldn't even recognize many characters, and never imagined such creative profanity existed. So each turned red‑paled, trembling all over, yet dared not get angry—this roaring guy, who claimed he would have all sorts of relations with their ancestors' eighteen‑generation women, was an extremely terrifying killing maniac...

Bai Lang wasn't a master of insults; he was far from it, but his millennia‑spanning insight gave him some stock. After about half an hour he stopped, satisfied, and looked at the trash below: "Listen up, I'll start reading, you memorize it yourself! I'll read it again tomorrow! In three days I'll quiz you! Those who can't recite will get twenty lashes!"

Then Bai Lang loudly recited the qi‑cultivation method he had summarized. The method had no mystical jargon—just where the qi should flow and what to visualize in the mind. He took out a wooden carving of a glowing man and etched the qi‑circulation route onto it—a crude piece that had taken a craftsman two or three days to carve, far from lifelike.

While teaching, Bai Lang could sense people eavesdropping outside the training ground. The county soldiers' ground was already large, and there were plenty of merchants outside—these days there aren't many entertainments, so watching people train is a form of amusement. Moreover, the soldiers train only once every ten days; more frequent sessions would strain supplies and cost more.

Training once every ten days is the norm; once every five days marks elite troops, and once every three days is for household retainers… So the townsfolk have turned drills into a habit, and on drill days a market of performances and goods naturally springs up outside the ground—though that was only in peaceful times. At this moment, Bai Lang truly reminded the citizens of Xingyang City of those recent peaceful years.

Bai Lang didn't intend to keep his qi‑cultivation method secret; whether the idle onlookers outside could hear or succeed didn't concern him. The next day was the same, but Bai Lang personally went among the remaining five hundred county soldiers after the cull and nudged the flow of qi in each of them.

"Sure enough, none of the hundred could even cultivate the first step of true qi—age is the issue," Bai Lang surveyed. Among the five hundred, only two showed what seemed to be newly formed, shallow true qi, intermittent and not very active. These soldiers were mostly over eighteen, generally twenty‑five or twenty‑six years old—those older had already been assigned jobs, and most of these men had families, so giving them more time at home was fine.

Bai Lang thought, extended a finger and walked along, tapping each person and injecting a strand of true qi. "You bunch of trash, each find a stick and bite it! Time to test your endurance!" He glanced outside the ground and ordered the few soldiers who were not county troops but constables, "Have the outsiders keep back, at least a hundred paces from the ground. If they get scared, don't blame me!"

After about the time it takes for a incense stick to burn, the chaotic noise outside subsided. Bai Lang stood on the platform, watching the soldiers bite the small wooden sticks, and gave a sly grin. "Whoa!" he shouted, then a tiger‑like roar shook the heavens. Bai Lang unleashed his White Tiger Killing Aura, using his innate Internal Force to sense the heavens and reflect onto the five hundred soldiers, forcibly driving the true qi he had left in them to circulate and lay a foundation.

This method is almost divine in this world…

Bai Lang had hit the world's ceiling; the sky itself churned with stormy changes, and the entire ground was swept by a sudden gale of unknown origin. The sunlight that fell on the ground turned a pallid hue, as if a killing aura spread—exactly the battle‑array killing weather the soldiers had long known. Whenever their White County Governor went into battle, the weather was almost always like this…

A killing aura swept the four directions; a qi‑seer could probably see a White Tiger perched here, howling to the heavens above the ground—though are there such people in this world? Perhaps two will exist in the future, but for now they're still too young to wield magical power.

The White Tiger killing aura drove Bai Lang's innate true qi of the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist, stirring inside the soldiers like a blade—first sour, then itchy, finally a searing bone‑deep pain mixed with numbness, making life feel worse than death. The men bit the wood and rolled on the ground, heads thudding against the earth with a thump, yet their muscles and bones bulged like iron wood; each impact left them completely unharmed, not even fainting.

The qi‑circulation speed was rapid, and Bai Lang had no intention of torturing them, let alone tailoring a personalized flow rate for each. In the time it takes to sip a cup of tea, he opened all the meridians they needed for this internal art. As for the Ren‑Du channels? That depends on their own cultivation luck and talent; if they're opened now, it would be Bai Lang ending their lives.

Five hundred trash lay on the ground, too weak even to whimper, and Bai Lang ignored them, walking away. "Hmph, each of you is full of vital energy, you can't possibly die." The few constables at the gate who were dispersing the crowd collapsed on the ground, terrified by the White Tiger killing aura. Bai Lang merely emitted a strand of true qi to steady their mind and breath. As for the townsfolk who had retreated a hundred paces and were left with sore, weak legs, Bai Lang paid them no mind.

Back at his residence, Bai Lang continued his cultivation alone; Shang Xiuxun, who remained here, and Li Xiuning, who hadn't left, never came to see him, and Wei Zhenzhen was being forced to make new pastries.

At that moment, while Bai Lang was cultivating, a great force descended from the sky; after a splash erupted in the nearby pool, a man was seen squatting on the artificial rock beside the pool.

The force was like that of a deity or demon, appearing without cause; Bai Lang had no prior sense of it. Yet he recognized the man—the unruly, defiant face was etched in his memory. "Isn't that a big boss? Why is he here?" Bai Lang, upon seeing this big boss, didn't know whether to rejoice or fear.

"Oh, just passing through this world. Came to check out you, disciple." Zhou Shubi grinned. "Huh?" Bai Lang was baffled—when had he ever clung to this big boss's thigh hair? "Heh heh heh, I rarely find you pleasing. I'll give you two martial‑arts manuals; that makes you my disciple. Heh, I've roamed the world never taking students, don't sully my reputation. Heh heh heh, don't blame me later if I drag you into trouble!" Zhou Fei Fei seemed rather friendly.

Bai Lang happened to have some martial‑arts questions for this 'master', so he hurried to ask, but Zhou Shubi only gave him a glance. "I'm just chasing that old thief Qiao Damo, bald and passing by; I can't beat that old bald guy, and bothering the nun Miao Shan is fine too! This world is tightly bound, I can't stay minutes; your questions are yours to solve—good disciple, you're grown, you must cultivate on your own."

The demon before him exuded the aura of someone who had entered the palace a few times; Bai Lang didn't bother asking what grudge he held with Guanyin Bodhisattva, probably it had something to do with the kiln of suffering… The monkey‑demon said, "All the techniques of my sect I cultivated on my own; at least you, as my first‑generation disciple, should do the same. Remember, my kung fu has only two explanations. I once thought about mastering countless changing moves, but now I see they're all empty. The first one needs to be blasted away by his mother! The second…"

Zhou Shubi squeezed his eyes at Bai Lang, "It's the Saiya Rage Killing Method, ha ha ha ha!" Bai Lang could only laugh and cry. Since he was now a big‑boss's disciple, the thigh was thick indeed. Yet the demon didn't seem benevolent; later, hugging that thigh might attract countless enemies to trouble his disciple.

"Hahaha, if you ever meet a bald thief who's half enemy, half brother to your master, remember to ask him for favors! This old demon lord is a peerless martial‑arts master who turns simplicity into complexity and back, a body of Buddhist‑demonic arts… If he reaches here, he'll surely corrupt all the bald thieves of this world! Remember to ask for favors, don't get killed—don't worry, by my word and this world's rules, he won't beat you to death!"

It was unclear why the demon came, but after spouting that, the bored bastard turned into a gust of black wind and vanished, while a strand of that black wind struck Bai Lang directly, instantly shattering his Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield and Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist defenses, breaking seventeen or eighteen of his bones, and bruising his muscles and skin to a swollen, blue‑black state… "You kid, you're damn weak! Hahaha, I'll boost your ability to take hits! I'm out!"

Bai Lang knew without counting that his whole body had taken at least a thousand well‑timed punches, each shattering a tendon or bone; if he could re‑cultivate the Golden Bell Shield and recover, he would surely ascend a few more levels. "A thousand strikes in an instant!" Bai Lang shouted from his throat, also realizing that this…