Chapter 11 Break His Finger

"To reach the fourth grade of Skin Refinement, you swallowed 25 Body Refining Pills. Don't you
understand what it meant? You shouldn't have breathed a word of this to anyone. Not even me!"

Grace uttered, seating herself on the cattail hassock, legs crossed. As she glowered at Ricky, the
meaning in her eyes was unmistakable.

Other women had richly ornamented chambers, but Grace's was positively spartan. It was as basic as
Ricky's, with only a single bed, one small table, several chairs, and a cattail hassock she sat on.

"Master, I cannot lie to you. You're almost as good to me as father." Ricky replied with a smile.

"Don't play cute with me," Grace scolded, but her tone softened and a glimmer of a smile flickered
across her face.

"Well, enough of that. By the way, I've found a cultivation method that might suit you. Now whether it
works or not depends on your willpower." Grace turned deadly serious.

"So what cultivation method is that?" Ricky asked quickly. He was super-impatient for an answer.

Then Grace took out a well-worn scroll from her inside pocket and handed it to Ricky.

"Nine-degree Body Refining Formula!" The title of the method jumped out at Ricky as he opened the
parchment.

"It was created tens of thousands of years ago by a predecessor who also lacked a spiritual meridian.
But what's in here can give you the same power as anyone in Black Level," Grace explained.

"So a guy like me! No spiritual meridian. Black Level power?" Ricky repeated word by word, eyes
widening with amazement.



"Normally people without spiritual meridians can't cultivate themselves. But that mysterious master
figured it out. To cultivate himself, he used his body as his meridian, and absorbed the spiritual energy
of heaven and earth into his flesh, his very cells." Grace continued, "Finally, his skills reached the
pinnacle of the intermediate stage of Bone Reinforcement, and turned all the established knowledge of
martial arts on its ear. And using his body as a meridian made his mortal form even tougher than those
with spiritual meridians.

His success touched off a wave of other warriors trying the same thing. But it's tougher than it looks,
and no one succeeded for thousands of years due to a lack of perseverance and tenacity. Over time,
the knowledge was lost, and eventually forgotten.

But, luckily, the Nine-degree Body Refining Formula he created was passed down!"

"He sounds like a great man, master!" Ricky sighed as Grace finished.

"That's why I'm always on your case about willpower, resolve, and the drive to succeed. Foster those
traits, and you'll go far," she exhorted. Then she continued with assurance, "And I believe you can do
this since you have achieved the fourth grade of Skin Refinement without a spiritual meridian."

"Don't worry! I'm driven. I won't fail you," Ricky promised sternly.

Within him, he was sure he would never lack those traits even if he were endowed with a spiritual
meridian, because his father was suffering and waiting for his rescue...

"Great! We'll start today. Hope you can revive this martial art!" Grace turned to look Ricky in the eye,
her eyes gleaming with faith.

"The practice of Nine-degree Body Refining Formula requires two important conditions. One is a strong
body, and the other is strong blood vitality. Tomorrow morning, go to the Outer Kitchen Hall and buy the
flesh and blood of some ferocious monsters."



"Yes, Master Grace!"

...

The Outer Kitchen Hall was designed to offer meat for outer disciples to buy. It was fresh meat,
gleaned from the nearby mountains. Perfect for Skin Refinement cultivation.

After a sound sleep, the next morning Ricky came to the Outer Kitchen Hall. Because he was only at
the fourth grade of Skin Refinement, he was inconspicuous, and nobody paid any attention to him. He
plunked down 20 silver coins and came away with 5 kg of fell meat from beasts of intermediate stage of
Skin Refinement.

And, by unhappy accident, he bumped into some old acquaintances.

"Wow! So glad to see you! Like the turtle, you finally poke your head out of your shell for a change ..."
The bully used a higher-than-normal volume, so everyone looked in their direction.

Ricky looked too. Two boys and one girl strode towards him. It was none other than Scott, Inge, and
some other disciple of the Snow Sect in white who he hadn't met before.

Inge held on the arm of that young man in white. Ricky immediately realized that must be their new
boss.

"Stay away! You know your bark is worse than your bite," Ricky snorted. At the sight of Scott and Inge,
he felt a surge of bitter hatred shooting through him. He really wanted to strangle the life out of them,
but he held back.

"Ah! The new guy! Show some respect to Hurley, newbie." They'd definitely gathered a crowd by now.
Everyone formed a ring around him, prevented him from just dashing off.



Sure enough, the young man in white was Hurley. A sullen gleam passed through his earlier happy
eyes. People who knew him better were aware it was a homicidal gleam.

"Scott, break his finger!" The boy named Hurley commanded.

With that, his large hand returned to Inge's plump hip, stroking her, while Inge feigned her
embarrassment, as so many people were around.

"Good old Hurley! That'll show him," the disciples around them remarked under their breath. When their
eyes were on Hurley, they were filled with dread, but as they stared at Ricky, they gloated.

"Sorry man. Gotta do what he says," Scott said with a sinister smile, clapping his hands, "But I'll give
you a choice. Which finger?"

With that, Scott frowned, like it was hard for him to do that unsavory deed.

...

One of the stipulations of the Snow Sect was that fellow disciples of the Snow Sect were forbidden to
kill each other. Or even attack each other outside of formal competitions.

But Scott and all the other disciples were well aware those kinds of rules didn't apply to the elite. Hurley
had the full support of other high-ranking masters, and he was effective above the law. He could do
whatever he liked.

No wonder Scott carried out his orders without a second thought.

"Well, I remember this guy. He's a traitor to the Nan family. Word has it that someone in our Sect took
on someone who has no spiritual meridian, and that's him." One voice rang out from the crowds.

Immediately, all eyes were on Ricky, and it was the worst feeling in the world.



"So he's that dude? No spiritual meridian, third grade of Skin Refinement, all that jazz?"

"Third grade, hah! Whatever, without spiritual meridian, he is good for nothing. How can he still dream
of being a warrior? Maybe a broken finger will give him something to think about."

"You can say that again! We don't need useless people in the Snow Sect."

"Humph!" With everyone lined up against Ricky, Inge simply pouted her rosebud lips, let out a scornful
snort at him and leaned her head on Hurley's arm.

...

"Time's up. Made your choice yet?" Scott asked impatiently, lips curled into a malicious smile.

"Yes, I have." Ricky replied, nonchalantly.

"Haha, Listen to him, will ya? He's full of crap," someone shouted with a sneer, and all the other
disciples burst into peals of laughter.


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