James Thompson said, "It all depends on whether he keeps his heart in the right place and whether he crosses the line in the future. If he does, then he can't blame me for crippling him. My godson can be tempered, but he must never be suppressed or humiliated."

David Thompson said, "It's a pity his body is just too weak, and he started too late."

"Let him be. When he hits the wall and gets bloodied, he'll naturally understand and give up obediently," James Thompson said. "Although it's hard to rise to a high position in a civil post, it doesn't mean there's no future at all."

David Thompson said, "But you still hope to see Henry Clark create some miracles, don't you?"

James Thompson shook his head. "It's too difficult. There's too little time left, and his physical condition is just as poor as we expected, so miracles are impossible. Heaven probably won't be so generous as to send me a genius."

Chapter 12: In Just One Night, Slapping Andrew Reed's Face

At night, Henry Clark lay in bed, his mind racing.

He knew that if he relied solely on this body's physical condition, not to mention half a year—even in ten or eight years, it would be hard to make any progress in martial arts. So there was absolutely no hope for the graduation exam; the only thing he could depend on was the dream, this golden finger.

So, Henry Clark forced himself to fall asleep despite the aching pain all over his body. He was truly worried that the dream wouldn't work—after all, martial arts training is different from mental study. He was even more afraid that he wouldn't enter a special dream, and would be left to struggle in reality.

However, he was overthinking it. As soon as he fell asleep, he immediately entered a brand new dream.

In the dream world, he practiced horse stance over and over again. Ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times.

In reality, his body would be unbearably sore, so his condition would get worse and worse. But in the dream, every time he could fully recover all his energy, so he improved with each repetition.

Dream time was ten times that of reality, and the body in the dream never felt tired.

So Henry Clark practiced almost maniacally. By the two hundredth practice, he could already hold the horse stance for five minutes. By the five hundredth time, he could stay still for ten minutes.

Of course, while this kind of practice was useful, it wasn't exactly stunning.

The real surprise and gain was insight—insight into the relationship between tendons and strength.

Because when he practiced the horse stance, his brain domain participated in the whole process, deeply understanding the subtle tension of all the tendons and bones in his body during the stance.

When he reached the 509th practice, he suddenly had a breakthrough and grasped the absolute essence of holding the horse stance motionless: the way of tendon balance.

It's not about willpower, nor about toughness—both are limited, and no matter how strong, they will eventually collapse.

To maintain a perfect horse stance, it's all about the way of balance—the perfect balance of tendons, bones, and strength. Once you enter a state of balance, you can hold a perfect horse stance effortlessly for a quarter of an hour, half an hour, even an hour, truly motionless—not even Andrew Reed could achieve such stillness.

So, in the dream, Henry Clark sought this balance and made precise calculations.

After another hundred or so rounds of practice and insight, Henry Clark mastered this way of balance—the balance of tendons, bones, and strength.

Then... his horse stance entered a perfect state.

The most perfect horse stance, absolutely motionless, able to last for a very, very long time—several hours! At least in this aspect, he had far surpassed instructor Andrew Reed's level!

If the Eunuch Academy held a horse stance competition, Henry Clark would definitely take first place.

This was the power of the dream system—his brain domain usage was ten times that of reality, allowing him to quickly grasp the way of tendon balance. Otherwise, with just straightforward training, even practicing a thousand or ten thousand times wouldn't achieve such perfection.

...

The next day, Henry Clark once again came to the first-year basic martial arts class.

Teacher Andrew Reed hadn't arrived yet, but these thirteen- or fourteen-year-old eunuch boys surrounded and ridiculed Henry Clark mercilessly, their vicious words hard to believe coming from such young teens.

This was a world where the weak are prey to the strong, especially so within the eunuch faction.

"You still have the nerve to show up? Looks like not only did they cut off your balls, but they also cut off your shame."

"If we were you, we'd have drowned ourselves in a cesspit long ago. How do you still have the face to come out and embarrass yourself?"

"Get out of our class, or we'll beat you to death!"

Some tall and strong eunuch boys were already rolling up their sleeves, itching to make a move. Bullying the weak and fearing the strong was simply the law of the land among eunuchs—perhaps it was part of their culture. Falling behind meant getting beaten; among eunuchs, this was an iron rule.

Four or five of the bigger eunuch boys came straight over, ready to start a fight.

But just then, footsteps sounded outside, and Andrew Reed walked in.

Immediately, all the eunuch boys lined up, more obedient than kittens, not even daring to breathe.

After seeing Henry Clark, Andrew Reed said coolly, "Didn't you hear what I said yesterday? Get out of my class, or you'll be carried out next."

Then he raised his hand. Instantly, four tall eunuch boys stepped forward and surrounded Henry Clark in the middle. As soon as Andrew Reed gave the order, they would beat Henry Clark half to death and then carry him out.