“The swift wind reveals the strength of the grass; fierce fire forges true gold. Without enduring the bitter frost, how can one’s fragrance waft afar?” These four lines were his self-encouragement, and also the words he wrote most often while practicing calligraphy.

　　Over the past eight years, Henry Clark had persevered through heat and cold, studying diligently, and now he had finally achieved some success. Whether it was in classical texts or calligraphy and painting, Henry Clark had reached a level rarely seen among his peers.

　　Now, everything was finally approaching the time for “harvest.” Once the New Year passed, in another six months, it would be time for the long-awaited Tongsheng Examination for Henry Clark.

　　The Tongsheng Examination was a grand event held every three years in the Great Han Dynasty.

　　The Great Han Dynasty was prosperous and culturally rich, with abundant talent and great strength. Every year at this time, the competition would be extremely fierce. At that time, more than eighty thousand students from the ten-mile radius of Pingchuan County would participate in the exam, but in the end, only three would be selected.

　　Henry Clark was confident that if he did not make a name for himself, he would astonish everyone with a single feat. As long as he made it into the top three and became a tongsheng, he would have a way to break free from his clan and make a name for himself.

　　The strength of the Great Han Dynasty was such that even a tongsheng was no small matter.

　　“I wonder what expression that matriarch from the main branch of the clan will have when she suddenly discovers that I’ve passed the tongsheng exam.”

　　Henry Clark recalled that face and sneered inwardly.

　　During these years in the clan, he had always endured adversity in silence, bearing all the suppression quietly and telling himself to be patient. As a result, over the years, no one had paid him any attention.

　　If they found out he had passed the tongsheng exam, their expressions would surely be quite a sight.

　　“It’s just a pity that my physical foundation is too poor. Otherwise, I could have taken the martial examination directly and become a martial tongsheng, saving myself all this trouble.”

　　Henry Clark snapped back to reality, sighed, and his eyes showed a hint of melancholy.

　　This world is one where “martial arts ascend to divinity”!

　　It was said that those powerful martial artists could sanctify their bodies, their vital energy soaring like wolf smoke, move mountains and seize peaks, reach the heavens above and the underworld below, even create worlds, become gods or demons.

　　And in the current dynasty, martial saints were as numerous as clouds, and could even be directly conferred divine titles, have temples built, and enjoy incense offerings!

　　All of this was far beyond what a frail scholar could imagine or compare to.

　　Therefore, the imperial civil service examination had always only set “tongsheng” and “xiucai” levels, with no “juren,” let alone “zhuangyuan.”

　　Henry Clark also wanted to practice martial arts, but unfortunately, his clan had always withheld his silver and cut off his supply of medicinal herbs needed for training.

　　“It’s said that there once existed great sages of literature, who could become saints through reading, whose words were filled with righteous energy, able to make dragons and phoenixes bow, command heaven and earth, whose words became law—such tales are truly inspiring, though I wonder if they’re real.”

　　In a daze, Henry Clark recalled some unofficial histories and couldn’t help but yearn for such things.

　　According to the books, before this world, there was actually another world. And the “sages of literature” belonged to that era.

　　Such things were too distant to be verified.

　　Whether reading could make one a saint, Henry Clark did not know, but at least in his eight years of study, he had never felt anything like that.

　　Putting down his book, Henry Clark began to practice the “Art of Breathing.”

　　No matter how busy he was with his studies over the years, Henry Clark had never given up on physical training. The so-called “Art of Breathing” was a method of special breath control to improve blood circulation and train lung capacity and physical strength.

　　This was the most basic foundational exercise before practicing martial arts.

　　The Art of Breathing was divided into ten stages; for an ordinary healthy person, one inhale and one exhale counted as two stages. Due to the lack of sufficient medicinal support, Henry Clark progressed slowly and had only reached the third stage, barely stronger than his peers.

　　……

　　“Rustle, rustle!”

　　No one knew how much time had passed when the sound of footsteps came. Henry Clark was stirred and returned to his senses. He saw the door creak open, and an old man with a head full of gray hair entered.

　　His steps were unsteady, and he carried a food box in his hand. When he saw Henry Clark, he showed a gentle smile.

　　“Uncle Harris, you’re here.”

　　Henry Clark stopped his training and said happily.

　　“Hehe, young master, practicing calligraphy is hard work. Have something to eat first.”

　　After a pause, the old man said apologetically, “I’m sorry, I was delayed on the road today. You must be starving.”

　　“It’s nothing, a little late is no problem. Uncle Harris, thank you for your trouble.”

　　Henry Clark didn’t mind.

　　The old steward slowly walked to the table with the food box, then took out the dishes one by one. They were all very light—scallion tofu, stir-fried bamboo shoots.

　　“The accountant’s silver hasn’t been distributed yet. In a few days, I’ll make you some bamboo shoots with pork.”

　　The old steward busied himself as he spoke.

　　“Hehe, it’s fine.”

　　Henry Clark paused, then suddenly frowned and said, “—Uncle Harris, are you alright?”

　　For some reason, Henry Clark felt that Uncle Harris seemed a bit different from usual today.

　　“Ah, n-no… What could happen to me?”

　　The old steward stiffened slightly, a trace of panic flashing in his eyes, and he waved his hands repeatedly.

　　“Young master, it’s cold, and the food will get cold quickly. Eat while it’s hot.”

　　The old man urged.

　　Seeing the old man’s reaction, Henry Clark grew even more suspicious. Remembering that the steward had delivered the meal much later than usual today, he suddenly seemed to understand something.