Chapter Two: Washing the Hair and Scraping the Bone

A brilliant spectrum of light gathered at Yang Qi’s brow, and a faint human silhouette appeared above him.

“Little one, from today onward, you shall be my disciple of the Great Emperor Haoyang.” The figure looked down at Yang Qi and sighed deeply. “My child, this will be the last thing I can do for you.”

Strange rays of light emanated from the figure, swirling around Yang Qi’s body. As the light ebbed and flowed, the silhouette gradually grew faint and translucent.

“From now on, everything depends on yourself.” With a final sigh, the figure completely dissipated into the surroundings, as if it had never appeared.

...

“Ugh... my head...” Yang Qi rubbed his throbbing temples and slowly got up from the ground.

“No way, did I really sleep here?” Staring at the empty surroundings and the patch of grass beneath him, Yang Qi found it hard to believe he had spent the entire night on the soccer field.

“What the hell is going on...” Suddenly, he noticed his skin was covered in a layer of black substance, accompanied by a strong stench of decay mixed with alcohol.

The foul odor was so unbearable that even Yang Qi himself recoiled. “Was I really just drunk?”

He had long since forgotten the events of last night—what he had done while intoxicated was a complete blank in his memory.

“What exactly happened?” Yang Qi wondered, puzzled.

“Could it be related to that colorful light I saw last night? Was it not a hallucination?” he recalled the radiant spectrum he had witnessed.

“Buzz—”

Suddenly, it felt as though something inside his mind had exploded; countless memories surged like a tidal wave, overwhelming his nerves. Sharp pains stabbed through his brain, and everything around him seemed to freeze in that moment.

“So this is what it is...” After a long pause, Yang Qi opened his eyes. At last, he understood what had transpired within him.

---

The colorful radiance was real, but it was not mere light—it was a legacy, the inheritance of a great warrior.

Haoyang was once a martial artist from the Tianwu Continent. After centuries of dedication, he reached the pinnacle of Martial Emperor and left his home planet to roam the cosmos. During his endless travels through the universe, Haoyang made many enemies and was eventually hunted down and killed. The spectrum of colors was the legacy he left behind before his death. This inheritance drifted through countless rifts in time and space until it merged with Yang Qi’s body last night. During the fusion, residual energy from Haoyang’s legacy completed the cleansing ritual of “Washing the Fur and Trimming the Bone” for Yang Qi.

“Washing the Fur and Trimming the Bone, so that’s what it means. Senior Haoyang truly had foresight,” Yang Qi murmured with emotion.

In the martial world, cultivation typically begins in childhood. Haoyang worried that his successor was already an adult and might not be able to cultivate, so he left behind this power to perform the cleansing ritual for Yang Qi. Without this power, even if Yang Qi obtained Haoyang’s legacy, cultivation would be difficult.

The thought that he could now wield the martial techniques recorded in Haoyang’s memories exhilarated Yang Qi. Flying through the skies, traversing the earth, and commanding the seas—these were now mere child’s play. Even roaming the universe like Haoyang himself was no longer a distant dream!

“Luorong, perhaps I should thank you,” Yang Qi whispered, vastly different from his lost and despondent state the night before; now, he brimmed with confidence.

“Master!” Yang Qi knelt on the grass and kowtowed three times with force. In the martial world, inheritance was sacred; taking on a master or disciple was one of the most momentous events in a martial artist’s life.

“Master, though we have never met, your legacy has been passed to me. If one day I have the strength to avenge you, I will personally slay your enemies,” Yang Qi vowed solemnly.

“But for now, the urgent matter is to return to the dormitory and clean up.” Looking at his blackened body, Yang Qi smiled wryly. If anyone saw him like this, he’d definitely become the top trending story on the forums.

“Bang!”

He pushed open the dormitory door and dashed straight to the bathroom.

“Qi, did you bring breakfast for me? It smells so good!” A voice called from behind.

“Good smell my ass, I fell into the gutter,” Yang Qi replied, utterly speechless at Shi Dong, the ultimate homebody.

Yang Qi considered himself somewhat of a homebody as well, but compared to Shi Dong, the difference was stark. Judging by Shi Dong’s state earlier, it was clear he had stayed up all night gaming again. With only a little over a month left in their university life, only Yang Qi and Shi Dong remained in their four-person dorm—Chen Le and Jiang Chao had both moved out, one living with his girlfriend, the other having returned home to become a civil servant.

After showering and changing, Yang Qi examined his pale face in the mirror, gently rubbing his smooth skin with delight. “Washing the Fur and Trimming the Bone even whitens the skin? If word got out, the ladies would go crazy.”

---

“Qi, what did you say?” Shi Dong glanced up from his game.

“Eh, Qi, you seem a bit different today,” Shi Dong frowned slightly, watching him closely.

“Ah, Qi, you’ve gotten paler and look more energetic.” A bright light flickered in Shi Dong’s eyes, and he grinned. “I remember you didn’t come back to the dorm last night!”

Yang Qi rolled his eyes. University couples skipping the dorm on weekends wasn’t news, but he had to give Shi Dong credit for making the connection.

“Qi, have you eaten breakfast?” Shi Dong suddenly leaned in, whispering.

“Not yet. Just say what you want—I’m not interested,” Yang Qi said, stepping back with disdain.

Shi Dong’s smile froze, then hurriedly said, “I’m a pure man. Qi, look, I’m not free right now. How about you help me buy breakfast?”

“When have you ever been free?” Yang Qi scoffed. By Shi Dong’s own admission, his computer was his wife, and no one else could replace it.

Shaking his head helplessly, Yang Qi went to the cafeteria to buy breakfast. After eating, he headed to the Lotus Pond, a small lake near the faculty apartments. Nearby stood standalone villas mainly used to host visiting experts and scholars. The place was usually quiet, frequented only by elderly folks exercising in the morning—much better suited for Yang Qi’s cultivation than the dorm.

He found a quiet, inconspicuous spot and sat cross-legged.

According to Haoyang’s memories, martial cultivation on Tianwu Continent was divided into seven levels based on strength: Martial Disciple, Martial Master, Martial Ancestor, Martial Revered, Martial King, Martial Emperor, and Martial Sovereign. Each level was further divided into nine stars based on prowess. Originally, Yang Qi had no cultivation and barely qualified as a Martial Disciple. But after the Washing the Fur and Trimming the Bone ritual, his power was now comparable to a typical three-star Martial Disciple.

Martial Disciples could handle ordinary people but stood no chance against true experts; they were the lowest existence in the Tianwu martial hierarchy.