Once again facing the morning sun, Brian Carter felt his mind both empty and fulfilled, reaching a most wondrous state.

Grasping the sparrow’s tail, lazy tie of the clothes, single whip—each movement, each posture, the force balancing hardness and softness, seeped from muscle into bone and organs, finally merging with his spirit and intent as one.

Reading ten thousand books makes writing flow like a god’s inspiration. Practicing martial arts is the same.

At this moment, Brian Carter naturally let go of all distracting thoughts, his mind as clear as a mirror, perceiving every subtle change.

Ambushed and killed, traversing time and space, arriving in this world. From a peak powerhouse, he became a miserable, foolish youth.

To say Brian Carter had no thoughts about this would be a lie.

But faced with the twists and turns of fate, Brian Carter confronted it with the heart of a warrior, calm and unflinching.

All these changes, in his eyes, were merely tempering. Only through such trials could life shine brilliantly.

Brian Carter was born with a tenacious character, and his experiences further forged his powerful will.

After days of nurturing his spirit and intent, his martial intent finally erupted.

Manifested in his boxing, it was as fierce as thunder, as solid as a mountain, as weighty as the earth, as vast as the sky.

Within the familiar moves, Brian Carter gradually found the feeling of his previous life, expressing his own will and momentum—there was spirit in his martial arts.

Old Reed had originally been practicing slowly alongside him, but as Brian Carter’s martial intent changed, he sensed the spirit within.

Old Reed stared blankly, his wrinkled old face shifting between joy, excitement, and emotion, his expression ever-changing.

This was the fist of a warrior, daring to confront all, nothing could subdue him, nothing could stop him, not even the mightiest fate.

Brian Carter did not explain the essence of the martial art, but Old Reed understood—he understood his martial intent, his lofty ambitions, his courage and indomitability, his heroic presence, and the spirit within his boxing.

This did not mean he had mastered it. Rather, it was a kind of enlightenment.

Just like the woodcutter Henry Bell listening to Boya play the qin. Without any explanation, he could understand the emotion and meaning in the music.

But that didn’t mean Henry Bell could play the qin himself. Understanding is one thing, doing is another.

Moreover, Old Reed did not have Henry Bell’s innate talent. He could comprehend the spirit in Brian Carter’s boxing only because Brian Carter’s interpretation was so brilliant and outstanding.

Brian Carter himself felt his martial arts were still a bit raw—after all, this body was too young, and his strength could not yet reach the finest level.

But in terms of martial intent, he had gone a step further than at the peak of his previous life.

Crossing time and space, becoming another person—this extraordinary life experience was an invaluable asset.

Only by experiencing it personally could one understand that feeling, could one have such emotions, could one give rise to the heroic spirit to defy the heavens.

This does not come from nothing, nor can it come from nothing.

It’s like someone saying that climbing Everest is nothing. Such words only have meaning when spoken from the summit of Everest.

Otherwise, it’s just empty talk—not worth a laugh.

The twists and wonders of fate, like a furnace, did not melt Brian Carter; instead, they refined away his impurities, forging him into tempered steel.

Brian Carter also knew that the reason he could unleash such powerful martial intent was not just his experiences, but that his spiritual strength was far greater than before.

Deep in the center of his brow, there seemed to be some tangible force constantly expanding, making his brow feel swollen.

It was as if something was about to break out from within.

For now, it was hard to say what caused this change; he guessed it might be a mutation brought by traversing time and space.

If even the soul could reincarnate, a mutation in spiritual power was nothing strange.

After finishing a set of boxing, Brian Carter assumed the stance of the Wuji post.

He stood there motionless, yet every muscle and bone in his body was moving. The subtle trembling of flesh and bone, like sifting sand, continuously refined his strength, penetrating flesh, bone, and blood.

No matter how profound Brian Carter’s martial intent, it still had to be expressed through the body. Through the Wuji post, he constantly strengthened his body and improved his control over it.

On the other hand, such high-intensity training could accelerate the fusion of titanium alloy and bone.

Extreme training would inevitably damage the body to some extent.

By comparison, the tearing pain fed back by his nerves was nothing.

Right now, he needed to complete the first stage of fusion as quickly as possible, to gain the power to protect himself.

Some physical injuries could be temporarily ignored.

As for the most dangerous second stage of fusion, Brian Carter would delay it as much as possible.

When Brian Carter opened his eyes again, he found his shadow slightly slanted—it was already past noon.

Old Reed, who had been waiting nearby, hurried over and said, “Let’s eat, I’ve already prepared everything.”

The tone and manner in which Old Reed spoke were less slick and more respectful.

This surprised Brian Carter a little. He wondered what the old man was up to.

After eating and drinking his fill and resting for a while, Brian Carter continued practicing.

This time, Old Reed did not practice. He just watched quietly from the side, his gaze shifting, lost in thought.

Brian Carter practiced until evening, ate dinner, then trained for another hour before returning to his room to rest.

Old Reed, who had long since lain down, sat up when he heard movement and greeted Brian Carter: “Zhengyang, going to sleep?”