“Shut up!” The middle-aged man in charge of supervision immediately barked. His name was William Dawson, and in terms of blood relation, he could barely be considered Henry Dawson’s paternal uncle. With a stern face, he said, “Putting on an act? Any of you can go put on an act! Whoever can sit on that big rock for an hour, I’ll exempt them from the rest of today’s lessons!”

At these words, the boys and girls instantly fell silent.

What a joke— that rock was so hot it could boil an egg. Who could sit on it for an hour? Forget an hour, even ten minutes would be unbearable! Only those who practiced the Lieyang Technique could possibly convert the heat— but not everyone in the Zhou family practiced the Lieyang Technique!

William Dawson walked over to Henry Dawson, sighing inwardly. He had witnessed the boy’s hard work, but alas, fate was cruel— he was born unable to cultivate.

“Don’t take it to heart!” He could only offer Henry Dawson a word of comfort.

“Thank you, Uncle!” Henry Dawson gave a sincere smile, as bright as sunshine.

“Don’t overexert yourself, take care of your health!” William Dawson advised.

Even he couldn’t last long cultivating on that big rock, let alone Henry Dawson, who hadn’t even reached the early stage of Body Refining Level One.

“I understand!” Henry Dawson nodded, but showed no intention of getting up.

William Dawson sighed again in his heart, feeling even more regret. He thought, if only this boy had the same talent as his father, then with such effort, his future would be even brighter!

He turned to look at the boys and girls resting in the shade, and a surge of anger rose within him. He shouted, “Break’s over, resume training!”

“Come on, we’ve only rested for less than five minutes!”

“Yeah, that’s barely enough time to catch our breath!”

“It’s all that loser’s fault, dragging us down!”

The boys and girls reluctantly returned to the training ground, all casting hostile glances at Henry Dawson, blaming everything on him.

Henry Dawson noticed these looks, but paid them no mind. He continued circulating the Lieyang Technique, using the power of the sun to refine the food in his body, converting it into his own true essence.

Inside him, the food was constantly refined under the effect of sunlight and his technique, forming countless streams of free energy, which, under the operation of the Lieyang Technique, transformed into streams of true essence, circulating within his body.

Everything was normal up to this point, but when the true essence reached his lower abdomen, it suddenly took a turn and plunged straight into his dantian, never to come out again!

True essence must be stored in the cells—skin, flesh, bone, blood—throughout the body, so it can burst forth when needed. But what was the dantian for? Though there were rumors that the dantian was important, related to the mysterious path to ascension, Henry Dawson hadn’t even laid his foundation yet, so how could he think about ascending to the heavens?

Only Henry Dawson himself knew the reason he couldn’t cultivate— it was all because of his dantian!

To be specific, it was because of a broken sword in his dantian!

Henry Dawson had a secret no one else knew: when he started cultivating at the age of eight, it was as if his consciousness could take form, freely moving within his body, seeing every detail inside.

It was then that he saw a broken sword floating in his dantian.

Over a foot long, pitch black from blade to hilt. Though broken, it exuded a majestic, world-sweeping aura, as if it had existed since the dawn of time, traversing endless ages, eternal and unchanging!

If it had been another child, seeing this would have scared them to tears!

But Henry Dawson had always been a strong-willed person. He managed to keep this secret.

He didn’t want to become a freak in everyone’s eyes!

When he was first examined by a physician, Henry Dawson was nervous, but the doctor didn’t notice the broken sword at all. Not just that doctor— none of the doctors David Dawson brought in discovered the black broken sword, as if it only existed in Henry Dawson’s imagination!

Since no one else even knew about the black broken sword, how could they remove it?

As time passed, he didn’t become a monster, but instead became known as a good-for-nothing. Yet no one knew that it wasn’t that he couldn’t practice martial arts, but that all the true essence he painstakingly cultivated was “eaten” by the black broken sword!

This bandit— not only did it make his body its lair, it even sucked up all his true essence!

But if Henry Dawson knew the black sword was a thief, why did he keep cultivating?

Because he still had a sliver of hope— that one day, the black broken sword would finally be full!

Then, the true essence he cultivated would be his to use!

His aptitude wasn’t bad— this was evident from his appetite, because for a martial artist, food equaled true essence. He ate more than any of his peers, which meant he produced far more true essence every day than anyone else!

Because of this hope, he faced all those contemptuous stares and scornful faces with composure! He firmly believed that as long as the black broken sword stopped holding him back, he would surely rise above the rest!

And that day was drawing ever closer!