Chapter 13 — Two Days of Effort
The next two days passed slowly.
Long Tan did not go to the forest.
He did not go to Old Lu's shop.
He did not talk much with Su Lan either.
He only practiced the knife skill.
Morning, afternoon, evening — repeat.
He stood behind the hut, in front of the tree.
Knife in hand.
Eyes focused.
He lifted his arm and threw.
Thud.
Miss.
He picked the knife up from the dirt.
Threw again.
Thud.
Hit the tree, but weak.
Knife fell out.
He did not sigh.
He did not complain.
He just walked forward, picked the knife again, and threw again.
His wrist hurt.
His fingers got cuts from the handle edge.
Shoulder felt sore and heavy.
His palm burned like fire.
Still he continued.
> Hard work does not guarantee success.
But without hard work, failure is guaranteed.
That was his thinking.
He took a short break after one hour.
He didn't sit.
He just stretched his arm and rolled his shoulder slowly.
Then he continued.
Thud.
Thud.
Sometimes, the knife didn't even hit the tree.
It landed on the ground with a dull sound.
His hand shook a little from fatigue, but he ignored it.
---
Su Lan in Background
Su Lan sometimes walked out to wash clothes or fill water from the pot.
She saw him practicing, but she didn't disturb him.
She didn't say, "You can do it."
She didn't say, "Rest."
She just did her work quietly and let him fight his own battle.
Sometimes she looked worried.
Not because she thought he would fail —
but because she knew what failure meant here.
Here, failure meant death.
Starvation.
Bandits.
Becoming a slave or corpse.
So she let him continue.
---
Second Day
On the second morning, his body felt heavy before training even started.
His arms were a little stiff.
His grip felt weaker.
But he did not stop.
He warmed up the wrist slowly, then threw again.
Thud.
Miss.
Thud.
Hit but no force.
Then something changed after two hours.
He focused Qi into his fingertips — not too much, not too little.
The knife felt slightly lighter in his hand.
He threw.
CRACK!
The knife stabbed the tree harder than before.
Bark broke.
A small hole opened in the wood.
Long Tan stared at it.
Not excitement.
Just calm confirmation.
> Finally, some effect.
He moved back two more steps and tried again.
Qi flow.
Throw.
CRACK.
Another hole appeared, smaller but still real.
His fingers trembled.
His arm felt numb.
But this progress made the pain feel worth it.
> Knife already better than first day. Still far from perfect. But progress is progress.
He kept practicing until noon.
Now about one in three throws hit the target zone.
Far from good.
But better than before.
---
Walk to Small Forest
After resting, he picked up the knife and walked to the small forest area near the well.
Only one kilometer from the village.
Safe enough for normal people.
Dangerous enough for weak cultivators.
Perfect practice place.
There were small bushes, small rocks, and young trees.
Bird sounds.
Nothing big.
He found a small stone and threw it into the air for practice.
He tried to hit it.
Failed every time.
He was not angry.
Just noted the weakness.
> Accuracy still poor on moving targets. Needs time.
Then he threw at a young tree trunk.
Crack.
Better hole than yesterday.
He kept practicing throwing in open space.
Different distance.
Different angle.
Sometimes knife flew smooth.
Sometimes it wobbled and dropped.
He breathed slowly and continued.
---
Qi-Awakened Bird
After some time, he heard flapping wings.
A black bird, around seven pounds, landed on a branch nearby.
Its feathers were a little shiny, eyes sharper than a normal bird.
Faint Qi leaked out.
Qi-awakened beast.
Weak, but still more dangerous than normal animal.
If it lived longer, it would become 1st-stage demon beast.
The bird stared at him, head tilted, then let out a sharp cry.
Long Tan held his knife.
> Good practice opportunity.
He lowered his stance, focused Qi into the blade — more steady than before, not too much.
He threw.
Whoosh—
THUD!
Knife pierced the bird's chest.
Bird dropped to ground.
Few wing shakes, then still.
Clean kill.
He walked forward, pulled the knife out, wiped blood on grass.
Picked the bird up by its leg.
> Useful meat. Not bad.
Now he had a problem:
He didn't have storage bag with him.
He had three storage pouches, but he left them in the hut because he didn't want to look like he owned items.
Carrying meat by hand looked weak, but also safe — thieves wouldn't think he had anything valuable.
So he carried the bird by hand.
While walking back, few outer mountain people saw him.
An old woman looked surprised.
"You killed that? Qi-bird meat… good."
A skinny young cultivator stared with a jealous face.
"Huh… lucky shot," he muttered and looked away.
Another hunter whispered to his friend,
"That guy… he broke through recently? He getting stronger?"
His friend replied quietly,
"I saw him buying spell scroll earlier… he must have some treasure."
Long Tan ignored them.
He kept walking.
Jealousy, rumor, suspicion — normal here.
Some looked impressed.
Some looked fearful.
Some looked annoyed like they wished it was their kill.
---
Home
Back home, he hung the bird and plucked feathers.
Feathers flew everywhere like snow.
He cut open belly, removed organs, washed meat with clean water.
He kept some bones for broth.
He boiled meat with salt and little herb Su Lan grew behind hut.
Simple food.
Strong smell.
Su Lan came back from collecting water.
She looked at the meat once, then nodded slightly.
"Good."
He only replied, "Practice worked."
She didn't ask how.
She didn't praise loudly.
Both understood effort better than words.
They ate together quietly.
Bird meat chewy, but warm.
After dinner, he washed the knife again and checked his hand.
Palm skin rough.
Small cuts healing.
Arm still tired.
He held the knife in his hand again.
> Still weak. Must continue tomorrow.
No celebration.
No happy scene.
Just routine.
Because tomorrow, danger would still be here.
Bandits would still roam.
Cloud Veil Faction still took spirit stones.
Forest still had beasts.
He wasn't strong.
But stronger than three days ago.
That was enough for now.
When the light faded, Long Tan placed the knife beside his pillow.
Tomorrow he would throw again.
More strength, more control — one step at a time.
He closed his eyes.
He didn't fear tomorrow.
He only feared stopping.
Outside, in the dark trees, a leaf fell.
Nothing special.
Just another night in Cloud Veil.
Quiet on the surface.
Danger underneath.
Long Tan slept lightly, like a man who knew the world didn't forgive weakness.
Tomorrow would be the same:
work, sweat, knife, survival.
And that was enough.
---
End of Chapter 13