A high moon hung in the sky, its clear radiance washing over the mountain forest. The old forest keeper sat alone in the clearing, his aura retracted to the absolute limit, resembling a stubborn stone that had existed since antiquity. Only when a very slight sound of dry branches snapping came from behind him did he slowly speak, his voice raspy and low. "You're here?" From the shadows of the dense woods, a young girl appeared in response. She was petite, her cheeks bearing the ochre hue left by years of wind and frost, a hunting knife at her waist and a heavy hunting rifle on her back. Though she looked young, her steps were silent and her breath was long, showing she clearly possessed a solid foundation. "Shigong," the girl called out softly, but her gaze couldn't help but drift in the direction Qin Youming had left, hesitating as if to speak. "His foundation isn't stable yet. You've already taught him the breathing technique; isn't that... a bit too early?" The old forest keeper didn't turn his head, speaking coldly, "Don't be fooled by that kid's appearance. He looks inexperienced, but he's actually full of schemes. I doubt he ever believed a word I said." The girl blinked and whispered, "Then will he help us?" The old forest keeper replied indifferently, "He's just an unlucky bastard swept up in this turmoil. He can barely protect himself, let alone help us. Children of the Jianghu die in the Jianghu; the Jianghu lies before me. Since he barged in, his life and death are up to fate. If not for the fact that he had the heart to save someone, how could I have passed on a true teaching to him? As for whether he lives or dies after practicing it, that is entirely up to Heaven's will." He paused, seemingly after some deep deliberation. "My time is near, and those people down the mountain are eyeing us like tigers. This battle must clear all obstacles for you. If his luck is good, once this is over, I can still lend him a hand. If his luck is bad, he can only blame his own misfortune." Hearing this, the girl's small face tightened. She didn't continue on the topic but said in a grave voice, "Shigong, news came from the city. They say a terrible traitor has emerged from the Xingyi Sect, threatening to slaughter every last member of the Xingyi Sect, and he's already on his way here." The old forest keeper raised an eyebrow. "Who?" The girl lowered her voice. "Chou Hen." "Chou Hen?" The old man was startled, then gave a strange smile. "That name is interesting. Could it be a disciple or grand-disciple of that man, a bloodline heir? That man took a wrong step back then, bringing down Heaven's wrath and dying without a burial place. And now, a scoundrel who deceives his master and destroys his ancestors pops up—they really are cut from the same cloth." As he spoke, the old forest keeper's gaze suddenly sharpened. "I see. No wonder Xie San Ye made his move early. It turns out it's because of this person." The girl came quickly and left even faster, seemingly just to say those few words, leaving the old man alone under the moon. The old man looked up at the moon. On nights like this, he had been sitting and watching for over seventy years. Those twenty-five thousand nights, looking back now, seemed like a long and distant dream. It seemed to be the Republic of China era back then, with supreme masters appearing out of nowhere, some commanding the wind and clouds, respected by the Three Teachings, and others dominating the northern and southern martial arts worlds, ordering both the black and white paths, invincible under heaven... Gazing at the moon, the old man suddenly murmured a chant: "Heavenly light shines on the universe, Earthly veins protect the root. Hongyi exists forever like the sun and moon, The gate opens to gather sages from all seas." ... At the same time, down the mountain. Inside a lonely wooden hut, a glowing red stove fire illuminated several faces. Xie San Ye sat cross-legged on the kang mat, holding a long pipe, puffing out clouds of smoke. In front of him sat several other people, dressed in various styles. There was a teacher wearing glasses and a Zhongshan suit, an old man dressed as a villager, a stout village woman, and a short, skinny dwarf. The village woman kept her hands in her sleeves, asking, "What do we do now? The weather's turning cold so fast, it'll probably be snowed in in a few days. Just right to slaughter that old thing." The dwarf, with a head of withered, yellowish messy hair and bulging eyes, screeched strangely, "Best to kill everyone on the mountain too, and the people in this village, I want not a single one left." "Kill my ass," the village woman was extremely dissatisfied and couldn't help scolding, "You little bastard, you think it's the end of the Qing or the start of the Republic? That guy surnamed Chou had martial arts unrivaled in the Jianghu, and he still got done in by guns and cannons... If you want to die, don't drag us along." The dwarf sneered, "How come you've got no guts now, woman? Hiding for so many years, do you really think you're a virtuous wife and loving mother? Heh, every one of us is a wretch who deserves to be sliced a thousand times, our hands covered in blood. No matter how you change, you can't wash it off." "Stop arguing." Xie San Ye frowned, brought his pipe down, and knocked it on the table with a clang. "The job isn't done yet, and you're already fighting amongst yourselves. We'll listen to Old Five for this one. When the time comes, we'll drug their food, and wait until they're all knocked out before making a move." The teacher in the Zhongshan suit suddenly spoke up slowly, "Calculating the time, I fear that Yang fellow is about to lose his power." Xie San Ye also sighed with deep emotion, "Yes. The closer it gets to this time, the more dangerous it is. If he doesn't move, fine; if he moves, every step is a killing trap." Another goat-bearded old man dressed as a villager chimed in, "He's been guarding here since the Jiwei year, right?" One sentence, yet it seemed to hide a thousand emotions. Xie San Ye remained expressionless, continuing to tap his brass pipe bowl, responding, "The eighth year of the Republic." The goat-bearded old man suddenly laughed, appearing crazy, yet his eyes were full of killing intent. He was clearly laughing, but turbid tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "Heh, that old thing actually managed to hold out until the Dissolution Tribulation. Dragging us into wasting our whole lives on this, he's really something." Xie San Ye's eyelids twitched. He reached out to pick up a peanut from the table, crushed the shell with his fingertips, blew off the red skin, and put it in his mouth. As he chewed, he said, "Not too many, not too few, exactly seventy years." Spitting out those few words, his cheeks were equally tight, gnashing his teeth as if using every ounce of his strength. Xie San Ye's drifting gaze fixed, and he said in a deep voice, "This is our last chance. With those educated youths going up the mountain, Xingxing can distract Old Ghost Yang. Although he was the 'Lining' of the Taiji Sect back then, doing the shady work, he is, after all, Yang Cangchan's grand-disciple. He can't be completely cold-blooded, right?" The dwarf elder, however, said, "That's hard to say. Back then, when his disciple was bitten to death by the tiger you drove there, he didn't come down the mountain. Even though he eventually got revenge, this man is clearly made of iron and stone." Xie San Ye listened to the wuwu sound of the wind outside the window, and after a long while, said disconsolately, "Cold-blooded or iron-hearted, this grudge is time to
Aiming with his left eye, he relaxed his right hand, and two clay pellets shot out silently. Without the slightest stir, two clumps of chicken feathers burst apart with a poof, and the two pheasants were struck. "Haha, got them!"
Qin Youming scrambled up from the ground, spat out the blade of grass in his mouth, and ran over in high spirits. "Still kicking, are you? I'll stew you two later... Uncle Xie, we get one each."
Third Master Xie looked at the boy grinning foolishly while holding the pheasants, and smiled as well. "Clay pellets? Good lad, you’ve actually turned the slingshot into a proper skill."
Qin Youming wore a smile that looked perfectly harmless. "I just figured it out on my own."
Third Master Xie sighed with emotion. "Don't let the fact that the slingshot has become a child's toy fool you; there is great depth to it. Different projectiles yield different effects. During the late Qing and early Republic, there were several masters of the slingshot. Stones, clay pellets, iron pellets, lead pellets—they used whatever came to hand, with infinite variations. They could even wrap poison smoke inside or stuff them with gunpowder. It’s a pity they were eventually replaced by firearms."
Qin Youming stuffed the two prey into the leather pouch at the back of his waist and said thoughtfully, "Uncle Xie, can those kung fu masters win against firearms?"
Third Master Xie shook his head. "Hard to say."
"What's there to say? If you ask me, no matter how good your kung fu is, you're still flesh and blood. A chop from a blade or a bullet still leaves a hole." Qin Youming muttered, "It's all just tricks and swindles."
Hearing Qin Youming belittle kung fu, Third Master Xie couldn't be bothered to waste his breath. After spending this time together, he felt he had figured out the boy's temperament: a playful child who loved to brag and always wore a cheeky grin, utterly unreliable in every way. Seeing the other remain silent, Qin Youming felt a sense of vigilance. Over the course of the night, this man had gained an inexplicable aura about him, like a taut bowstring. "Is he preparing to make a move?"
Having said that, the two circled the woods a couple more times. Qin Youming deliberately ran toward the foot of the mountain, stopping only when he reached a river at the edge of the logging grounds. Third Master Xie seemed indifferent, but his steps never lagged behind. The winding river almost sliced the vast mountain forest in two, extending all the way to the limit of their vision, its destination unknown. Feeling the gaze behind him, Qin Youming felt uncomfortable all over. Moreover, faintly, he sensed an indescribable killing intent that made his scalp tingle. Qin Youming stopped in his tracks and turned his stiff neck, only to see Third Master Xie looking up at the sky. that skin-piercing killing intent had vanished without a trace. "Uncle Xie, what are you looking at?"
Third Master Xie smiled without warmth. "It's going to snow."
It took over forty minutes to walk from the foot of the mountain to the top, and they arrived just in time for lunch. With a basin of cabbage and radish soup, Qin Youming downed seven or eight corn buns, stunning the female educated youth. In the afternoon, he spent several hours hauling logs with the others. Once work was done, the group of male educated youth couldn't wait to crowd into their dormitory after dinner. Zhao Dabiao, back from the clinic, shouted in a Tianjin accent, whipped out a set of bamboo clappers from his waist, and flicked his wrist to start a performance. From the female educated youth's side came the sound of poetry recitation. "Farewell to Cambridge..."
Qin Youming sat on the kang, eating pine nuts, too lazy to go out. But as he listened, he suddenly heard a few croaks from a toad amidst the howling north wind outside. He raised his eyebrows, made an excuse to use the outhouse, and slipped out of the dormitory. As soon as he stepped out, Qin Youming spotted the gaunt, stick-thin frame of the old forest warden in the distance. This man probably couldn't wait any longer. Recalling the scene where he saw the man exhaling gray breath and emitting a rotting stench, his body was likely on the verge of giving out. The man didn't speak; his figure flashed and vanished into the twilight. Qin Youming hurriedly followed until they reached the clearing where the old man stayed. Looking at the man's ashen face, Qin Youming asked impatiently, "They seem like they're about to make a move."
The old forest warden's gaze was gloomy. "I know. A great master has appeared in the county. For these people to ensure success, they must make their final gamble this winter. If they miss this chance, there won't be another."
"Then why did you call me here?" Qin Youming was puzzled.
The old forest warden said indifferently, "I called you here today to pass on another unique skill to you. Do you want to learn it?"
Qin Youming always felt this man spoke like someone from ancient times, which was uncomfortable to hear, but he certainly wouldn't pass up such an opportunity. He nodded hurriedly. "Follow me." The old forest warden walked toward another earthen house. Qin Youming looked happy on the surface, but his heart was uneasy. For this man to be so generous, surely he didn't feel sympathy because his own life force was fading? The old forest warden pushed open the door and lit the lamp. As a ball of light flared up, a massive stone ball was revealed inside the earthen house, along with a large water vat half a man's height in the center. The old man rolled up his sleeves and slowly extended his right hand into the water vat. "Watch closely."
Qin Youming looked intently. Although the old man made no movement, ripples slowly rose in the vat, then gradually formed a spiral, as if an invisible giant hand were stirring it. "I previously taught you the breathing method. Today, I'll teach you a move called 'Entwining Force'. This 'Entwining Force' is an extremely advanced form of 'Soft Force' cultivation. The force travels in spirals and is applied through both hands, becoming the 'Yin-Yang Entwining Hand'. If you can master it throughout your body, external force applied to you will vanish like a clay ox entering the sea."
Qin Youming seemed to recall something. "Is that the strange force you used to knock me down that night?"
The old forest warden nodded. "Exactly."
Qin Youming looked by the light of the lamp and realized that while the old man seemed motionless, faint ridges were spreading beneath his black cotton jacket. In particular, the two sleeves visibly swelled and contracted, tightening and loosening, as if great winds and waves were surging beneath the fabric. Qin Youming was secretly amazed; this looked somewhat similar to the commotion caused by that person on the train breathing. He couldn't help but ask, "Besides Soft Force, are there other training methods?"
The old forest warden said, "These things cannot be explained in a few words. You only need to comprehend the principles within for now. If there is an opportunity, I will tell you."
As he spoke, the old man actually tore off his black jacket, revealing his bare upper body. Under Qin Youming's incredulous gaze, the man's originally withered frame suddenly began to expand. His dull skin seemed to glow in an instant, writhing like dough. "This... what is this?"
Qin Youming widened his eyes in shock and subconsciously took a half-step back. He saw the man turn around; on his back, countless muscles were undulating and trembling. In the dim light, they looked like schools of fish swimming endlessly around his spine—mysterious, extraordinary, and shocking. The old forest warden's voice drifted over. "This is the movement of the muscles and the secret of generating force."
As he spoke, the old man lifted one arm. In an instant, the clear water in the vat spun rapidly, forming a massive vortex. The surging water spiraled upward, looking as if it were about to burst free of the vat...