Henry Carter patted his son's back and said, "No practicing boxing today. Go back to your room and get some good rest. Haha, it's been over ten years, and I've never let you sleep in even once. I really am an unqualified father."

William Carter, under his father's gentle push, groggily returned to his room.

However, even though he saw the genuine relief and ease on his father's face, his own heart simply couldn't feel happy.

For more than ten years, he had diligently practiced boxing every day; this habit was already deeply ingrained in his bones and blood.

To condense true qi and become a martial artist, to win honor for his father—this was the ideal that had been instilled in him countless times since childhood. Yet now, overnight, everything had changed dramatically.

Such a change was enormous—perhaps someone with decades of life experience like Henry Carter could see through it, but it was definitely not something he could easily accept.

Sitting idly in his chair, he had already cast aside all other distracting thoughts, focusing solely on how he might be able to condense true qi.

Over ten years of lessons had taught him that, if he followed the usual methods, the chances of stimulating true qi while practicing boxing were extremely slim.

Everyone's constitution is different; if he could have easily crossed this threshold, he would have become a qualified martial artist a year ago, instead of waiting in vain until now.

Since the proper methods didn't work, he had no choice but to take a risk.

It's said that martial artists, in moments of life and death, experience a thousandfold increase in spiritual insight.

Supposedly, if one could survive in such an environment, their cultivation would see a tremendous leap.

However, just as Henry Carter had said, after falling into a desperate situation, most are killed before they can break through, sometimes leaving not even a corpse behind. With his small frame, if he foolishly tried to challenge the many kings of the deep mountains, it would be nothing short of seeking his own death.

Letting out a soft sigh, William Carter had to admit helplessly that he really had no good ideas.

His gaze shifted, landing on the wooden bed.

Suddenly, William Carter's body sprang up as if loaded with a spring. His eyes shone brightly, locking onto his wooden bed.

An extremely strange and bold idea was born in his mind.

That mysterious body, which seemed to have flowed out from his own glabella, aside from the facial features, was otherwise no different from his own.

Even more astonishing, this body could be controlled by his will.

So, what if he transferred his consciousness into this body and entered the deep mountains—what would happen then?

At this thought, his heart surged with excitement, and he couldn't wait to try it out.

However, it was broad daylight, and he didn't want this faceless fellow to go out and scare people.

Restless, he finally waited for nightfall. After dinner, William Carter hurriedly bid farewell to his parents and returned to his room.

His mother asked her husband in surprise when their son had become so impatient.

But Henry Carter just smiled and reassured her, saying the boy's mood was unstable and that he'd be fine after a while.

Yet, no matter how wild Henry Carter's imagination, he could never have guessed what his precious son was actually up to.

After returning to his room, William Carter immediately attached his spiritual sense to that faceless body. Then, he carefully controlled this body to leave the room and stealthily head out of the manor.

This manor, among the countless properties of the The Carter Family, was just an insignificant little place. So, there were no martial arts experts stationed here; Henry Carter, who had trained in boxing, was already the most formidable person around.

Having inherited Henry Carter's true teachings and with boxing skills nearly on par with his father's, William Carter could naturally avoid everyone's notice with ease, nimbly scaling the high courtyard wall and leaving the place.

Once outside the manor, he immediately broke into a run.

But this time, he didn't head for the small grove in front of the manor, but instead entered the back mountain, a place within the estate that no one dared to venture into.

Beyond the estate lay a vast mountain range.

This stretch of mountains extended for countless miles; even in the records of the The Carter Family, there was no precise measurement.

Such a massive mountain range naturally nurtured countless strong beings.

It's said that an ancestor of the The Carter Family once made a pact with a certain overlord of the mountains, setting the entrance to the back mountain as the boundary: any human or spirit beast whose cultivation reached a certain level could not cross this line.

Because of this, even though there were no experts stationed at the manor, it had always been as stable as Mount Tai, never once suffering a beast tide invasion.

William Carter controlled this body as it darted swiftly through the forest.

To his delight, he discovered that this body's physical qualities were even more formidable than his own—especially in terms of endurance, where it had an advantage he could hardly hope to match.

Because, as this body ran and expended energy, it was also constantly absorbing energy from the outside world.