The horses of this era were rare treasures, comparable to the luxury cars of later generations—magnificent and spirited. To the soldiers of the Xiaoji Battalion, a horse was more than transport; it was a comrade-in-arms, treasured even more dearly than by ordinary folk. Such fine steeds were like adding wings to a tiger.

They were overjoyed, tending to the group of black horses with meticulous care and high spirits.

Zhao Shengli looked from one horse to the next, a broad smile on his face. "Hahaha, Monk, these horses are all yours... Hahaha, good! Very good!"

Li Muzhan chuckled. War spoils taken in battle belonged to the victor; this was an unwritten military code, immutable, much like the unspoken rules of later times. Even a superior officer dared not violate this, lest they be plundered by their own subordinates, who in turn might be plundered by their superiors—a tight, interconnected system that, if broken, would lead to chaos.

Xiong Sihai asked, "Great Monk, what shall we do with these horses?"

"Keep them, of course! Our whole company lacks decent mounts!" Zhao Shengli blurted out.

Li Muzhan smiled. "I want to keep eight, one for each of us, and sell the rest."

"That'll make us rich!" Zhao Shengli exclaimed, his eyes gleaming.

Xiong Sihai frowned. "Sell them to whom? Ordinary folks can't afford such fine horses."

"How about selling them to our own battalion?" Li Muzhan suggested with a smile.

Xiong Sihai visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. "I was worried for nothing. The Great Monk is astute."

Zhao Shengli laughed. "Selling them to the battalion is a loss! They won't pay the right price!"

Li Muzhan smiled faintly. "If everyone rides these horses, our combat effectiveness increases!"

"You monk are quite generous!" Zhao Shengli understood his deeper intention and chuckled. "Alright, once these horses are sold, you'll be set for half your life. A little more or less won't matter."

Li Muzhan's decision was born of necessity. If he took all the benefits for himself, the greater good would suffer.

Xiong Sihai declared, "I'll speak to my brother-in-law; we won't let you take a loss!" He was swift in action and turned to leave.

Li Baolu rushed in, nearly colliding with him. Trailing behind was an elder with a grizzled beard and a delicate young attendant struggling under the weight of a large medicine chest.

Li Baolu asked, "Sihai, where are you off to?"

"I'll be right back," Xiong Sihai replied with a smile. He glanced at the elder, snapped a military salute, extended his hand, and said, "Elder Bai, thank you for coming. Please—please come this way."

Elder Bai, looking to be in his sixties, had a placid face; his beard and hair were entirely white, but his eyes were clear and sharp. Stroking his beard, he smiled, assessing Xiong Sihai. "Sihai, you've been very well-behaved lately. Excellent."

Xiong Sihai chuckled sheepishly and hurriedly excused himself, seemingly eager to be away from Elder Bai.

Elder Bai stroked his beard and smiled, shaking his head. "This little rascal..."

………………………………,…………………………

Li Baolu asked curiously, "Elder Bai, you know Sihai? Are you close?"

Elder Bai smiled. "I watched him grow up. The little fellow was quite mischievous... Now, where is the patient? Let's go."

"Right, right, quickly," Li Baolu realized and hurried forward.

Li Muzhan was conversing with Zhao Shengli and the others. As the magnificent black horses whinnied softly and pranced with obvious pleasure, Li Baolu arrived, ushering Elder Bai forward.

Elder Bai stared intently at the scimitar, stroking his beard with a frown.

Zhao Shengli quickly clasped his hands in greeting. "Elder Bai, is the injury severe? Can it be healed?"

Elder Bai frowned, pondering. "It's a bit tricky..."

Li Muzhan clasped his hands and smiled. "Elder Bai, I trouble you. My physique is sturdy, so please treat it with whatever means necessary. Stopping the bleeding would be enough."

"Hey, hey, be careful! Don't move rashly," Elder Bai instructed, looking around. "Find a clean place, shielded from the wind."

"Come to my quarters," Li Muzhan offered, turning north toward his own room.

Elder Bai and the young attendant followed, as did Zhao Shengli and Li Baolu, all entering Li Muzhan's room—a space softly lit, impeccably clean, and orderly.

Elder Bai beckoned impatiently. "Let me see."

Li Muzhan leaned closer. Elder Bai examined the scimitar, nodding. "Good. A blessing in disguise. This is a fine blade; it's not rusted."

Li Muzhan quipped, "If it were rusted, it wouldn't have cut so deep."

The Indestructible Diamond Divine Skill, having reached the fifth layer—Refining the Membrane—meant that only because the leader of the Black Eagle Riders possessed profound internal energy and wielded a precious blade was the cut able to penetrate so deeply.

"This cut doesn't seem to have hit a tendon," Elder Bai said, taking hold of Li Muzhan's arm, turning it slightly. He nodded. "If it had hit a tendon, your arm would be useless."

As he spoke, he turned and instructed the attendant to fetch needles.

The boy produced a long, narrow wooden box, appearing purplish-brown, smooth and burnished from frequent handling.

Elder Bai gently opened it. Inside lay rows upon rows of needles: purple copper, silver, gold, and wood—all roughly the same length but varying in thickness, densely packed within the container.

Elder Bai selected several copper needles and slowly inserted them around Li Muzhan's shoulder. He then chose several wooden needles, inserting them near his heart. Finally, he selected silver needles and placed them around his neck.

He worked quickly, threading dozens of needles in succession, lightly twirling and adjusting each one. Elder Bai's movements were light and practiced, his expression serene, proceeding neither quickly nor slowly—a picture of composed mastery.

When finished, he gently fanned his palm, and like a breeze rustling through green grass, all the needles vibrated simultaneously. Li Muzhan looked at Elder Bai in astonishment.

A wisp of heat rose from the needle tips. His entire internal circulation suddenly locked down, the flow slowing to a crawl, as if even his blood flow had been retarded. Li Muzhan realized with surprise that Elder Bai possessed profound internal energy.

Moments later, Elder Bai produced a jar of dark ointment, resembling sesame paste, and smeared it on his left palm.

He smiled. "My miraculous medicine has remarkable hemostatic effects. Try it."

Before Li Muzhan could speak, Elder Bai swiftly thrust his right hand out, gripped the scimitar's hilt, and pulled. Simultaneously, he pressed his left palm against the wound to meet the gushing blood jet, holding it perfectly still.

Li Muzhan grimaced as a wave of intense pain crashed over him. Since needles restricted movement in his neck, he closed his eyes and observed the scene with his Eye of the Void.

Elder Bai's action was perfectly timed; just as a spurt of blood erupted, his left palm clamped down, halting the flow. A faint, metallic scent drifted into the air.

Everyone held their breath, watching Elder Bai's left palm intently.

After a moment, he slowly removed his hand. The attendant rushed out and returned with water. Elder Bai washed his hands; the basin of water turned crimson.

The others looked on in astonishment. Li Muzhan's shoulder was now coated in the black paste, and the bleeding had stopped.

Elder Bai chuckled. "How is my miraculous medicine?"

"Wonderful medicine! Truly wonderful!" Zhao Shengli exclaimed, marveling. "Elder Bai, do you have any more of this medicine? Give us some!"

"This medicine is very expensive. I fear you cannot afford it," Elder Bai replied with a smile.

Zhao Shengli insisted, "This is life-saving stuff! Even if we can't afford it, we must use it! Elder Bai, just name your price!"

Li Muzhan smiled faintly. "Head Zhao, the true marvel is Elder Bai's needling technique."

"Oh?" Zhao Shengli looked at him.

Li Muzhan continued with a smile, "Elder Bai's technique is truly divine! The ability to slow the flow of qi and blood—I am deeply impressed."

Elder Bai stroked his beard and smiled. "I knew the little monk wouldn't be fooled." He added, "However, my medicine is also quite effective!"

Li Muzhan smiled and shook his head, catching the implied meaning. "Then I must pay extra consultation fees!"

Elder Bai laughed heartily. "The little monk is clever! But you are quite spirited despite having received my Blood-Coagulating Needles. That's impressive!"

Slowing the blood flow meant reduced supply to the head, which should induce grogginess. Li Muzhan remaining so energetic was highly abnormal. Elder Bai stroked his beard, observing him with intense interest.

Li Muzhan smiled. "Elder Bai, I will pay the consultation fee in a few days; I have no money on me right now."

Elder Bai stood up, chuckling. "Very well. If you try to default, I'll just go bother Xiao Hu about it... Alright, given your constitution, you might not even need the medicine if you rest for a few days, and then you can leave."

Saying this, he swept his hand, and all the needles were swiftly withdrawn, returned to the box, before he stood up, stating, "That settles it then. Keep the wound clean; don't let it get dirty. Absolutely no iron armor for now! I am very busy, so I won't say more!"

He turned and left the room, the others seeing him off.

Li Muzhan watched his vigorous silhouette, deep in thought, extremely interested in this set of needling methods. Such needle placement was certainly a life-saving art; perhaps he didn't need needles—a specific finger technique might achieve the same result.

………………………………………………………………

The news of Li Muzhan's return spread like wildfire. Within half a day, everyone in the Xiaoji Battalion knew. When he had insisted on going, they had expected the worst; they never imagined he would actually return.

The ferocity of the Black Eagle Riders was well-known, a dark shadow that had haunted their hearts, striking fear into them simply by name. Yet, Li Muzhan had returned, single-handedly, bringing back Zhu Jie and the other three.

Although the rescued men were permanently crippled—even with potent medicine, they could only regain mobility, never return to the battlefield—their lives were saved, which was paramount. Saving men from the Black Eagle Riders was something the Shenwu Battalion had never achieved. The Xiaoji Battalion was stunned, and soon, the news spread throughout Tenglong City.

By the next day, everyone knew: Ming Kong of the 'Two-Two-Two' incident was bold, skilled, and a true hero.

The Xiaoji Battalion's training grounds buzzed with activity as people flocked to see what kind of person Ming Kong was—did he have three heads and six arms to accomplish what others could not?

Li Muzhan, however, remained secluded in his quarters, tending to his wounds while practicing standing meditation.

Internal energy continuously surged out from his Yongquan (Bubbling Spring) acupoint, filling his legs, then his lower abdomen, entering his Dantian, which seemed like a bottomless pit.

As the energy flowed from Yongquan into the Dantian, Li Muzhan observed internally that his Dantian was like a lake, and the energy from Yongquan was a small stream. It took two full days and nights to fill the Dantian.

Opening the Yongquan point to absorb the Earth's vital essence was cause for joy, yet it had a flaw: once his feet left the ground, he could no longer draw upon the earth's energy. After mounting his horse, his feet would be airborne, cutting off his energy supply. On the battlefield, he could not replenish his internal force continuously.

Accustomed to the endless supply provided by the Heavenly Origin Respiration Technique, he was unwilling to accept this limitation. However, after careful consideration, if his feet were off the ground, absorbing terrestrial qi was impossible. There was no solution unless he chose to be an infantryman instead of cavalry—a choice beyond his control.

His current fame in Tenglong City was partly accidental, but also intentional. Building a reputation was necessary to pave the way for his eventual command; prestige was an intangible power not to be underestimated. Consequently, he had to train desperately. His military internal energy needed to reach a level comparable to his Canghai Divine Skill, otherwise, he risked exposure on the battlefield.

He entered seclusion under the guise of recuperation, refusing all visitors.

Two days later, his Dantian was completely filled, suffused with swirling purple qi. The Yongquan point continued to pour forth energy, overflowing the Dantian and rising toward his scalp.

With a sound like a thunderclap exploding in his mind, a "Boom..." resonated.