I attained sainthood through alchemy on the cliff.

Chapter 23 Breathing as a Hammer

As the days went by, Yang Jin, under the identity of "Stone," honed his repetitive and tedious work to a higher level of skill.

On this day, the furnace was burning brightly. Chen Shan did not direct Yang Jin to sort iron materials or operate the bellows as usual. Instead, he called him to the anvil, handed him a medium-sized iron hammer that matched his size, and picked up a piece of red-hot iron ingot and fixed it on the anvil.

"Watch the heat and listen to my commands." Chen Shan's tone was calm, yet carried an unusual seriousness. "Today, I'll teach you the real 'one hammer blow'."

Yang Jin felt a chill run down his spine, gripped the hammer handle tightly with both hands, and focused all his attention.

Chen Shan did not give the order immediately, but closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly in a strange rhythm.

His breathing was very soft, but it was unusually clear in the quiet shop. His inhalation was long and deep, as if he were taking in the heat and the metallic smell of the surroundings into his lungs, while his exhalation was short and forceful, exhaling with a scorching breath.

With each breath, an invisible aura seemed to envelop him, even affecting the frequency of the flickering fire in the furnace, and the rhythm of light and shadow quietly synchronized with his breath.

Yang Jin watched with bated breath, vaguely sensing that this breathing technique was probably the true core of Chen Shan's "Iron Hammer Forging Technique"!

"Hiss—" Chen Shan suddenly opened his eyes and let out a low shout.

Yang Jin subconsciously took a deep breath, focusing his energy in his dantian, and felt his blood and qi surge.

"fall!"

Almost at the same time Chen Shan uttered the word "fall," Yang Jin had a sudden inspiration. He moved his waist and stance in perfect harmony, twisting his body and turning his arms, concentrating all his strength into the hammerhead. Following the muscle memory formed from days of hard training, he smashed it down hard on the red-hot iron blank!

"clang--!!!"

The sound of this hammer blow was unlike any of his previous strikes!

The sound was deeper, more solid, and extremely penetrating, as if it were not the collision of metal, but a boulder crashing into a deep pool, with a long and lingering resonance that echoed endlessly in the small shop.

The moment the hammer fell, Yang Jin clearly felt that the breath he had inhaled seemed to transform into a scorching torrent, surging out from his dantian with the exertion of force, flowing through his limbs and bones, and finally pouring into the hammer!

The recoil from the hammer hitting the iron billet did not scatter and impact his arm as usual. Instead, it was cleverly neutralized and absorbed by the blood and qi flowing naturally under his skin. There was even a slight feedback from him, which made him feel not only no soreness or numbness in his arm, but also a surge of energy!

Looking at the iron billet again, an unusually neat and clearly defined dent appeared on the hammered part. The surrounding impurities and bubbles seemed to have been shaken and squeezed out by the hammer blow, and the metal texture seemed to have become denser!

The power of a single blow is truly astounding!

Yang Jin held the still-warm hammer handle, his heart filled with inexplicable shock.

This is no ordinary blacksmithing! This is clearly a martial arts tempering method that perfectly integrates one's own blood, breath, spirit, and will with external movements!

"You felt it?" Chen Shan's voice pulled him back to reality, his tone still calm. "This is called 'Furnace Breathing Technique.' It's not some profound skill, just a clumsy method passed down in the blacksmithing trade to help control the heat and save energy. With specific power exertion techniques, it can stimulate one's own blood and energy while hammering iron, removing impurities and retaining the essence."

He pointed to the hammer in Yang Jin's hand, then to his own chest: "The iron blank is like the human body, impurities are like superficial qi and blood, the furnace fire is like internal breath, and the hammer is like willpower. Breathing is the guide, the hammer blows are the conductor; externally refine the iron, internally refine yourself. This is the true purpose of your strength training these days—not to turn you into a strongman, but to teach you how to unleash your strength, no, your qi, blood, willpower, and even your breath, into one unified force, focusing on a single point."

Yang Jin was deeply moved as he listened, finally understanding Chen Shan's profound meaning.

This "Furnace Breathing Technique" and its accompanying power generation techniques are the key to completely digesting and condensing the complex power within his body into his own combat strength!

"However, don't get too excited yet," Chen Shan poured cold water on your enthusiasm. "That last move was just borrowing my momentum to stir your qi and blood. You're still far from truly mastering it. Starting today, every afternoon, practice 'Standard Hammer' for an extra hour—no iron, just swinging the hammer in the air, focusing only on breathing and power generation. Only when you can swing the hammer a hundred times in a row, with each swing producing a consistent sound, maintaining steady breathing, and delivering a clear and powerful force, will you be considered to have reached the threshold."

"Yes!" Yang Jin nodded vigorously, his eyes burning with fervent light.

In the days that followed, Yang Jin's life became more fulfilling, but also increasingly arduous.

During the day, he was still the apprentice "Stone" who did odd jobs, dealing with the occasional villagers or spies from the Sun family who came to visit.

In the afternoon, he would sit in a corner of the courtyard, swinging a hammer at the air again and again.

There was no scorching iron billet, no flying sparks, only an extremely monotonous repetition: adjust your breathing, concentrate your mind, feel the flow of qi and blood, and then—swing the hammer!

At first, chaos will ensue within ten strikes.

It's either that you can't keep up with your breathing, your exertion is scattered, or you can't concentrate.

But Yang Jin possesses extraordinary patience and resilience, and is supported by a firm belief in avenging Shi Gong.

With each failure, he carefully analyzed the problem and made adjustments for the next attempt.

Chen Shan would occasionally observe from the sidelines, offering a few pointers at crucial moments: "Your breath isn't deep enough, it hasn't settled to the bottom." "Your wrist is stiff, the power is lost at the elbow." "Your mind should follow the hammer, not the other way around."

Gradually, Yang Jin's hammer swing rhythm became more and more stable.

Twenty hammer blows, thirty hammer blows, fifty hammer blows... Breathing gradually became one with movement, each inhale and exhale, each hammer blow, seemed to form a unique rhythm.

Under this conscious guidance and stimulation, the body's Qi and blood become more active and refined, significantly enhancing their nourishing effect on the skin.

He could even feel that the stone's toughness was slowly increasing, making it more effective at mitigating blunt impacts.

Seven days later, in the afternoon.

Inside the courtyard, Yang Jin was shirtless (to avoid sweat damaging his "Thousand Faces Adhesive"), his bronze skin covered in beads of sweat that reflected a healthy glow in the sunlight.

His eyes were slightly closed, his entire mind focused on the cycle of breathing and swinging the hammer.

"breathe--"

"clang!"

"breathe--"

"clang!"

The hammers flew, creating a dull whistling sound.

His movements were not fast, but they were exceptionally steady and powerful. Each swing seemed to carry immense force, yet he handled it with effortless ease.

The chest and abdomen rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, and heat rose from the body, with the blood and qi flowing like a stream under the skin.

Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine...

Chen Shan had stopped what he was doing at some point and was standing at the shop entrance, watching quietly.

The hundredth strike!

Yang Jin exhaled and spoke, though he didn't actually shout it out, but a surge of pent-up energy in his chest burst forth with the final, full-force swing of the hammer. The hammerhead drew a perfect arc in the air, and the wind it generated was sharp for a moment!

"Buzz—"

The hammer stopped beside him, its head trembling slightly and emitting a low hum.

Yang Jin slowly stopped his movements, opened his eyes, and exhaled a long breath. His breathing was long and steady, and his eyes were clear and bright, showing no signs of excessive fatigue.

He struck the ground a hundred times in a row, his breathing remained steady, and his strength did not dissipate!

Chen Shan walked over, reached out and touched Yang Jin's shoulder, back and arm muscles, feeling the taut yet elastic and full of blood and energy, and nodded.

"So-so, you've got the basics down." His evaluation was still sparse, but a hint of genuine satisfaction flashed deep in his eyes. "You've mastered the 'Furnace Breathing Technique' and the power generation techniques. Next, you need to integrate them into every movement you make in your daily life—walking, sitting, lying down, and even... in combat. Make it your instinct."

He paused, then looked at Yang Jin: "How's your 'Mountain Splitting Style' coming along?"

Yang Jin was taken aback, and honestly replied, "I've practiced the moves in the booklet until I'm familiar with them, but I always feel like... something's missing."

He recalled Chen Shan's previous assessment of him as "similar in appearance but not in spirit."

"What you're missing is the 'spirit' of 'breathing' and 'power exertion'!" Chen Shan sneered. "Fist and foot techniques, in the end, are nothing more than methods of utilizing qi and blood and strength. You have brute force and defense, but you don't know how to efficiently circulate qi and blood, how to concentrate all your strength into one point for an explosive burst, or how to cause the greatest damage with the least consumption. Your 'Mountain Splitting Style' is just an empty shell."

"Please enlighten me, Uncle Chen!" Yang Jin immediately clasped his hands in a respectful gesture.

Having spent so much time together, he had come to truly admire Chen Shan, and his address of "Uncle Chen" was heartfelt.

Chen Shan stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the vast mountains outside the courtyard, and slowly said, "The essence of the 'Mountain-Splitting Style' lies in the word 'splitting' and the word 'mountain.' 'Splitting' is a technique, it's about exerting force, it requires unwavering determination and sharpness to cut through everything. 'Mountain' is the artistic conception, the goal, and even more so, it is yourself—your foundation must be as stable as a mountain, your momentum as heavy as a mountain, and your will as firm as a mountain."

"Starting tomorrow, practice for an extra hour each morning and evening. In the morning, face the stone wall behind the mountain and practice the 'chopping' force with your palm instead of an axe, coordinating with the 'Furnace Breathing Method' to feel your blood and qi flowing with the force of your palm, and experience the meaning of 'severing'. In the evening, I will teach you a set of standing meditation methods called 'Mountain Standing Posture' to temper your lower body, stabilize your foundation, and cultivate the meaning of 'mountain'."

He turned his head, his gaze sharp as lightning, and looked at Yang Jin: "When you can shatter a stone wall with a single palm strike without harming yourself, when you can feel yourself connected to the earth while standing in a stance, as stable as a rock, with your aura as deep and solid as a mountain... then your 'Mountain Splitting Style' will truly be considered mastered, your Skin Refining Realm will be considered complete, and you will be qualified... to touch the threshold of the Flesh Refining Realm, and only then will you have a slight chance to face your true enemy."

Yang Jin took a deep breath, feeling as if a fire was burning in his chest—a fire that yearned to become stronger and to avenge Shi Gong.

Stone walls, earth, mountains.

"Splitting" and "mountain".

He clenched his fist so tightly that his nails almost dug into his palm.

"I see."

From that day on, increasingly deeper and more regular palm print cracks began to appear on the hard stone wall behind the blacksmith's shop.

In the courtyard, the boy's figure, standing tall like an ancient pine and a rock, became a frozen painting in the morning light and twilight.

"Breathe as the hammer, yourself as the iron, and hatred as the furnace."

The path of revenge unfolds quietly between the anvil and the stone wall, in the breath and the stance, tempering itself step by step.

Just then, the people from the Iron Bone Martial Arts School arrived.