It felt as if his stomach and intestines were stretched to their absolute limit, forcing Qin Youming to stop shoving food into his mouth. Although his belly was already stuffed to the brim, teetering on the edge of inducing nausea, that hunger originating from the depths of his soul remained as persistent as a maggot burrowing into bone, clamoring frantically for more. This wasn't eating at all; it was like filling a bottomless pit with dirt—no matter how much went in, it vanished in the blink of an eye.
Suppressing the urge to take another bite, he struggled to prop up his heavy body. The long bench in the cafeteria was hard, digging painfully into his lower back, yet he felt as if he were filled with lead, every movement draining his strength. Amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, he stumbled out of the cafeteria doors, braving the cold night wind, dragging his round belly step by step back to the dormitory.
The moment he entered the room, he couldn't even be bothered to take off his clothes, collapsing directly onto the bed and pulling the quilt over his head. The bed was freezing, yet his body was scorching hot, as if he were being tormented between ice and fire. In a daze, his consciousness sank into darkness; his dreams were filled with bizarre and grotesque feasts, all sorts of delicacies dancing before his eyes, yet impossible to eat.
He didn't know how much time had passed before a series of urgent shouts forcibly dragged him out of the strange dream.
"Brother Qin, are you alright? Wake up! Hurry up and wake up!"
"What is it? What happened?"
Qin Youming opened his eyes in a daze, smacking his lips subconsciously, seemingly still savoring the taste from his dream. As his vision focused, he realized the dormitory was surrounded by a circle of people; under the dim yellow light, every face was etched with concern. Company Commander Yang, who had seen Zhao Dabiao down the mountain, had already returned and was frowning as he scrutinized him. Third Master Xie (Xie San) was squatting nearby, the long-stemmed pipe in his hand flickering with light; in the shadows, a murky, ambiguous light flickered in those old, cloudy eyes, before he spoke casually, "It's nothing, probably just ate something bad during the day."
Only then did Qin Youming snap back to reality; the night outside was as dark as ink, long past daytime. "What's wrong with me?"
Company Commander Yang scolded with annoyance, "What's wrong? You've been sleeping for over a dozen hours! Your belly is swollen like a ball; we couldn't wake you up no matter how hard we tried. I thought you kid were a goner. Didn't I say not to mess around and get some rest? What are you pulling now? What on earth did you eat?"
At the mention of his stomach, Qin Youming's face changed abruptly, and he sprang up from the bed. Company Commander Yang reacted quickly, pressing down on his shoulders with both hands, his expression serious. "I wasn't finished speaking. You kid just stay there and rest for me. You don't need to work on the tree farm for now. You... what's wrong?"
Everyone saw Qin Youming's face turn instantly deathly white, then to a livid blue-green, and then visibly swell to a liver-red color; the speed of this transformation was heart-stopping. The insertion team had only just begun, so why was it already so full of twists and turns.
Qin Youming's expression was taut; he took a deep breath, his voice even changing pitch. "Quick, don't hold me down, let me out first."
Company Commander Yang was a true Northeasterner, stubborn and responsible. Seeing Qin Youming still thinking of running outside in his state, he solemnly pressed him back onto the bed. "You kid aren't going anywhere. Just stay there and..."
A look of extreme torment and distortion appeared on Qin Youming's face as he gritted his teeth. "I can't hold it in anymore."
Company Commander Yang paused. "Can't hold what in?"
Before the words had even landed, a thunderous, dull sound exploded from beneath Qin Youming's buttocks. "Poot—!"
"Ouch, damn it!"
The crowd, which had been packed tightly together, instantly surged out of the room like a tide, wishing they had two extra legs. Qin Youming brushed aside Company Commander Yang's hand, and without a word, clamped his butt cheeks together and sprinted for the toilet. He had eaten too much raw, cold porridge and wild boar meat in one go at the cafeteria during the day; his stomach couldn't digest it at all, and now his insides were churning like a beating drum. It was truly killing him.
After squatting in the toilet for over half an hour, Qin Youming finally walked out, his face ashen. Yet, he was not alarmed but pleased. Although it was exhausting, it indicated that his previous attempt was not useless; perhaps his own method had been the problem. According to those wuxia novels, one must lay a foundation before practicing martial arts. Since this breath-swallowing method mobilizes the five energies, one naturally needs to replenish one's own essence and qi first. But why did he still feel hungry after eating so much during the day? Had he not eaten enough?
Recalling those medicinal diet recipes, he gradually realized. Perhaps what he ate wasn't right. The recipes recorded meat from various wild beasts or rare medicinal herbs, but what he had eaten before was all coarse grains. It seemed he would need to find an opportunity to verify this.
Mulling it over, he returned to the dormitory. Seeing Qin Youming's deflated belly, Company Commander Yang first breathed a sigh of relief, then gave a few more instructions before leaving. Third Master Xie, on the other hand, looked at Qin Youming with a playful glint in his eyes, saying with a smile, "You get some rest. I'll come call you tomorrow morning."
Qin Youming felt a chill in his heart being looked at by this old fox, but on the surface, he responded calmly. Since he already knew the other's true nature, he wasn't afraid.
Once everyone had more or less left, Qin Youming asked Wu Kui and the others, "How is Zhao Dabiao?"
"Company Commander Yang says it's nothing serious. He'll be back after a couple of days of rest."
Wu Kui sat on the bed, soaking a pair of smelly feet, holding an unknown old book in his hands and reading it with relish. Chen Wen and Chen Wu were huddled by the window, setting up a chessboard, discussing the female educated youths they had met during the day as they played—one moment talking about single eyelids, the next about double eyelids, even remembering exactly how many moles were on someone's face.
Qin Youming felt a bit uncomfortable; his stomach was empty, and that hunger returned again, clawing at his heart and liver. Lying prone on the bed board, he simply pondered the contents of the brocade again, then fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Qin Youming did not rush to the old forest guard to practice. That man had a perverse temperament and was moody; who knew if what he taught was good or bad? If he sabotaged him secretly and something went wrong, he wouldn't even know how he died. But not going wasn't an option either. However, before that, he wanted to figure out the contents of the brocade as much as possible to avoid being fooled.
After eating some porridge in the cafeteria, Qin Youming took his rifle and wandered into the woods. Third Master Xie seemed to be waiting for him early on. Looking at the old man's hunched back, Qin Youming suppressed the urge to shoot him in the back. The other man dared not make a move for so long, showing he was an old fox who wouldn't choose to expose himself without a sure chance of victory.
Qin Youming's thoughts shifted; he climbed an old tree with his gun on his back and, taking the opportunity to pick pine nuts, said mysteriously, "Third Uncle Xie, let me ask you something."
Third Master Xie was skinning a roe deer; hearing this, he looked over with some confusion. "What is it?"
Qin Youming whispered, "Is that old man behind the cafeteria guarding some treasure?"
Third Master Xie's face changed slightly, but he quickly masked it with a nonchalant expression.
Seeing the other man still playing dumb, Qin Youming sneered internally and performed with even greater gusto. "That man is clearly hiding his true capabilities, yet he was willing to stay here for decades. In my opinion, there is a treasure buried here nine times out of ten. Besides, look at where this is—this is the place where the Qing Dynasty rose to power. Perhaps a treasure is buried here."
These words were entirely thought up last night. Going by the tropes of those wuxia novels, the probability of a treasure being guarded in such a situation was high.
Third Master Xie scoffed, "Bullshit. We've been poor all our lives; when have we ever heard of any treasure? Don't talk nonsense, kid."
Qin Youming shelled a few pine nuts, tossed them into his mouth, and said indifferently, "Third Uncle, you're really ignorant. Do you know about grave robbing? Those 'Tufuzi'—grave robbers—can tell at a glance where a large tomb is based on feng shui. Coincidentally, I happen to be an expert at feng shui and locating acupoints. Look at these mountains, undulating and stretching, shaped like a coiled giant dragon. It's hard to guarantee there isn't a tomb hidden here."
He spoke with increasing mystery and apparent seriousness, talking utter nonsense with a straight face. But the speaker had no intention, while the listener did. Third Master Xie's right hand, which was cutting up the roe deer, suddenly paused, as if frozen.
Qin Youming would not miss this scene. His pupils contracted sharply, and a storm surged in his heart. Had he actually guessed right by chance? Was there truly a tomb hidden in these mountains?
Before he could think any further, a gaunt figure darted soundlessly through the darkness, moving with startling speed, and carried him away in one sweep.
By the time the figure stopped, Qin Youming had already been pinned against a thick tree stump.
The Forest Keeper stared at him with a dark expression. "Boy, what I hate most in this life is a two-faced bastard."
Qin Youming was dressed only in a sweater and padded trousers. The night wind cut through him until he trembled from head to toe, his teeth chattering. "Wh-Who's being two-faced? I've been a little weak these last two days. Isn't it fine if I rest first?"
Dressed in black, cheeks sunken, eyes bulging slightly, with white hair flying wildly in the moonlight, the Forest Keeper looked like some grave-born specter. The sight made Qin Youming's scalp go numb.
The old and the young locked eyes in silence for a long while. At last the old man said hoarsely, "I can feel an invisible killing intent gathering below the mountain. Once heavy snow seals the road, those people will make their move."
Qin Youming shrank in on himself, face pale from the cold. "You can sense that too? What are you, an immortal?"
The Forest Keeper did not answer. He merely raised his head toward the moon, sat with both hands on his knees, and as his chest rose and fell, crisp croaks like those of a toad burst from his throat and tongue.
That strange croaking seemed to carry a penetrating force of its own. It soothed Qin Youming's restless thoughts, and even the cold in his body seemed to ease.
Qin Youming stared in a daze. "What kind of technique is that?"
But the Forest Keeper's expression changed without warning. His white brows shot up, and astonishment filled his eyes. "It's only been a few days. Why do you look so drained in essence and spirit? Don't tell me you've been doing handwork in secret."
Qin Youming rolled his eyes. "I'm still a virgin. I don't waste my thoughts on that. A peerless genius like me is destined to contend for the title of number one under heaven. Why would I let myself be dragged down by love and desire?"
The old man seemed to have figured out the boy's shameless temperament long ago. Narrowing his eyes, he sneered, "You've barely begun to understand fists and feet, barely caught a glimpse of the martial path, and you already dare talk about being number one under heaven. A mayfly looking up at the sky would be less ridiculous."
Qin Youming was freezing and had no patience to argue. "If you're going to teach me some real tricks, then hurry up."
The muscles in the Forest Keeper's face twitched twice. Then he extended one hand. "Grab it."
Qin Youming did not waste words and obeyed. The instant he gripped the old man's right hand, a strange force coiled toward him. In a flash he felt as if he had fallen into a whirlpool and a swamp at the same time. His center of gravity vanished, and he crashed to the ground like a drunk.
Qin Youming fell hard and was about to curse, but when he sensed the subtlety hidden inside that force, his eyes lit up. "Hey, that's actually interesting."
The old man beckoned to him. "Get up. What did you feel?"
Climbing back to his feet, Qin Youming answered without thinking, "Force."
The old man nodded. "That's right. Force. It is the method by which internal martial arts advance, retreat, attack, and defend. Your Eagle Claw may have a bit of the outer shape, but when it comes to the key to issuing force, it is completely wrong. At best, it's children's play."
Qin Youming's gaze burned brightly as he held the old man's right hand and carefully felt that unusual power. Even the circulation of that force seemed to contain a hidden rhythm, like silk threads winding around each other, or like a fast whirlpool twisting in place. Once it touched someone, it could set them spinning like a top.
Seeing the boy's face full of wonder and delight, almost completely immersed in the mystery of force, the old man's eyes flashed with a trace of recollection. "Do you know why inner force is born?"
Before this, Qin Youming might not have been able to answer. But now he already had a guess. Even so, he only said, "I don't."
The old man said as if to himself, "It comes from breathing methods."
Slowly raising his head, the Forest Keeper looked up at the moon, which had endured the changing world and the passing of ages, yet remained eternal. In a low, drifting voice he said, "The human body hides countless secrets, and between one inhalation and one exhalation lies the manifestation of those secrets, as well as the root of martial skill itself. Within it are the principles of yin and yang, the workings of transformation, the changes of the five elements, and the mysteries of life and death. On the road toward that martial truth, no one knows how many gifted prodigies have already fallen, nor how many people's lofty ambitions have been buried."
As he listened to that deep voice before him, Qin Youming suddenly felt the old man's right hand tighten around his wrist. In the next instant, an indescribable aura poured out of that gaunt, withered body, like water and fire, like thunder and lightning, like a storm splitting the heavens. It crashed over him in one overwhelming surge.
Qin Youming felt his limbs begin to wobble, as if he had sunk into mud. He was just about to struggle when he heard the Forest Keeper continue, "Focus. Calm your mind."
As the words fell, the old man lifted a hand and flicked lightly. Qin Youming's tall body was sent straight up into the air as though it had lost all weight, arms and legs flailing like a spinning top.
Startled out of his wits, Qin Youming hurriedly steadied himself. Then the old man spoke again by his ear.
"Remember the length of my breaths as I inhale and exhale. This is the Taiji Toad-Fishing Art."