Chapter 3: A Critically Wounded Man

“Again.”

Jiang Changkong said once more.

Zhou Wen nodded and struck again: “Tell me if you can’t take it.”

Jiang Changkong nodded, enduring another palm strike without issue this time.

The second strike continued to pummel his body, letting the force hammer away.

But Iron Cloth Shirt showed no movement.

After five minutes of continuous strikes, Iron Cloth Shirt finally stirred.

20.7/40

Only increased by 0.1?

He suddenly felt that getting stabbed might be faster.

The pain would also fade quicker.

“Let’s rest for a bit.”

They continued until it reached 21/40.

Jiang Changkong stopped, realizing that the more he endured beatings, the slower the progress became.

At first, it took five minutes, then seven, then ten.

Moreover, with each beating, he felt increasingly exhausted, a sense of utter fatigue—this damn body.

It took nearly half an hour just to reach 21. At this rate, improvement would be difficult, and he was utterly worn out.

Sitting on the ground, Jiang Changkong asked, “You said Doctor Ziling needs to improve her healing ability?”

“Yes, you probably don’t know, but Star Demons contain Star Stones within their bodies.”

Zhou Wen thought for a moment and said, “Some Star Stones mutate for unknown reasons, gaining special abilities.”

Jiang Changkong understood—these special abilities could be refined.

Ziling had obtained this healing ability and needed to continuously practice and refine it to master it.

The ability was newly acquired and not particularly powerful yet.

It couldn’t heal severe injuries, only minor wounds.

That’s why she opened a clinic here instead of at a Martial Arts School.

Those folks at the Martial Arts School were reckless; their wounds were often too large to treat easily.

“Star Demons…”

Jiang Changkong stroked his chin. The Essence of Star Demons must be abundant.

“Don’t even think about it. Look at how weak you are, sweating all over after just a short while. Who knows when you’ll be able to join a Martial Arts School.”

Zhou Wen shook her head. This wasn’t meant to discourage him—it was the truth.

Jiang Changkong nodded. “So, I have to take an unconventional path. How about… continuing with the stabbings?”

Zhou Wen: “…”

You’re the first person I’ve met who dares to keep stabbing themselves.

If Jiang Changkong didn’t seem relatively normal, she’d suspect he had a few screws loose.

“Senior Ziling won’t agree.”

Zhou Wen sighed helplessly. “Why are you so harsh on yourself? Martial Dao can’t be rushed. If nothing else, you could buy medicinal herbs to temper your body, or even strengthening serums.”

Jiang Changkong shook his head. Medicinal herbs were unaffordable.

Strengthening serums were even more out of reach.

“Poor people can only endure more hardship.”

Jiang Changkong said, “How about you put in a good word with Doctor Ziling? I’ll practice Iron Cloth Shirt, and she can improve her healing ability?”

Zhou Wen shook her head, refusing his request.

This wasn’t enduring hardship—this was self-mutilation.

“Keep practicing.” Zhou Wen stood up.

Jiang Changkong rose to his feet. His body had recovered somewhat, and any improvement, no matter how small, was worth it.

This time, it wasn’t until noon that he managed to improve by a single point.

The two had also grown familiar by now. Ziling’s full name was Ji Ziling.

The Ying Ji Clinic took one character from each surname as its signboard.

There was also a boss with the surname Ying, the senior Zhou Wen wanted to pursue.

Lunch was prepared by Ji Ziling, and it tasted excellent.

After the meal, Jiang Changkong didn’t rush to practice. Instead, he went to the market.

In this world where almost everyone practiced Martial Dao, the demand for meat was immense.

Everyone preferred fresh meat, so fresh supplies were available both in the morning and afternoon.

After wandering around for a bit, he gained another 2 points of Essence, which he saved.

Good steel should be used on the blade—once he reached minor mastery, he could directly upgrade to major mastery.

In the afternoon, he continued training, but only improved by 0.5 points.

Iron Cloth Skill: Minor Mastery 22.5/40.

While eating the dinner prepared by Ji Ziling, Jiang Changkong had a sudden thought: “Brother Wen, could I ask you for a favor?”

Zhou Wen looked up: “What favor? If it’s too difficult, I’ll refuse.”

“It’s not difficult. I just want to become a butcher…”

“No.”

Zhou Wen refused decisively.

Didn’t you see? Ji Ziling hid your dagger.

A butcher?

Are you planning to slaughter chickens and sheep, or slit your own throat?

Who could say for sure?

For someone who kept stabbing themselves, staying away from weapons was the best choice.

Ji Ziling glanced at him: “If you want to die, do it somewhere else. Don’t ruin my reputation.”

Jiang Changkong explained: “No, I just want to find a job.”

“You’re still young. Why be a butcher? How about this—work in the clinic. Monthly salary of three thousand.” Zhou Wen said.

Ji Ziling nodded without objection.

Before he could speak, Zhou Wen continued: “Besides, do you think being a butcher is easy? You need a license.”

Jiang Changkong opened his mouth but could only say: “Thank you.”

After finishing the meal and returning home, Jiang Changkong began working at Ying Ji Clinic.

Zhou Wen helped him train every day, while Ji Ziling treated the injured.

However, all the injuries here were superficial wounds.

The most serious one was when someone cut themselves while gutting a fish, barely even bleeding.

Naturally, Jiang Changkong didn’t gain any Essence.

Every day, he wandered around the market and practiced Iron Cloth Skill.

Five days passed in the blink of an eye.

Iron Cloth Skill’s minor mastery reached 25 points.

Progress grew slower and slower, and his Essence accumulated to 16 points.

Jiang Changkong stopped stabbing himself, and Ji Ziling didn’t say anything, though she wasn’t particularly enthusiastic either.

He noticed something: Ji Ziling was rather distant toward him and Zhou Wen.

Though not outright cold, she maintained an aloofness that kept others at arm’s length.

That evening, after Jiang Changkong finished wiping the clinic’s tables and chairs, Ji Ziling also tidied up and prepared to leave.

Zhou Wen had already left earlier.

“Doctor Ji!”

A panicked cry rang out.

A woman, supporting a blood-soaked middle-aged man, walked in: “Doctor Ji, please save him.”

Essence +1+0.1…

Essence continuously surged—this man’s Essence was dissipating rapidly.

Ji Ziling quickly cast a green light, which sank into the middle-aged man’s body.

But the man was still bleeding, and a few green lights couldn’t stop it.

Only after several more green lights did the bleeding barely slow.

“He’s too severely injured. I can only stabilize his condition. He needs to go to the hospital immediately,” Ji Ziling said.

“Thank you, Doctor Ji.”

The woman hurriedly tried to help the middle-aged man up, but she was exhausted. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed.

The middle-aged man fell straight toward the ground.

Ji Ziling quickly supported the woman, while Jiang Changkong barely managed to catch the middle-aged man.

He glanced at Ji Ziling curiously. Clearly, the man was more severely injured—if he fell, he could die.

Yet she chose to support the woman.

“I’ll carry him to the hospital.”

Jiang Changkong lifted the middle-aged man onto his back and ran outside.

Ji Ziling followed behind, casting another green light into the severely injured man’s body to help stabilize his condition.

“Thank you, thank you both,” the woman kept saying gratefully.

He jogged all the way to the hospital. Fortunately, his Iron Shirt technique had reached a minor achievement, so carrying someone on his back wasn’t a problem.

However, he hadn’t gone far before he started feeling tired. Once his energy was depleted, drowsiness set in.

Luckily, the hospital wasn’t too far away. As soon as Jiang Changkong arrived, a doctor came over to help take the middle-aged man.

“Let’s go.”

Ji Ziling turned and left without hesitation.

Jiang Changkong shook his body, feeling exhausted.

The woman was still at the entrance, expressing her gratitude: “Thank you both, I’m so grateful.”

“Go inside and take care of him,” Jiang Changkong said briefly before quickly catching up to Ji Ziling.

“He was injured by a cow. Do you still want to be a butcher?”

Ji Ziling suddenly remarked.

“Just curious,” Jiang Changkong replied with a smile, not elaborating further.

Ji Ziling didn’t say anything more either.

They parted ways, and Jiang Changkong secretly wiped away a bead of sweat, worn out from the exertion.

But when he checked his Essence, he couldn’t help but smile:

“Not bad.”

Another five points, and he had saved someone too.

Twenty-one points now—the critically injured man had just dispersed five points.