11. Heavy Snow Seals the Mountain, the Killing Intent Has Arrived

The room was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard, save for that vat of clear water churning eerily beneath the mountain-guarding elder's palm. Chen Mo widened his eyes, his breathing seemingly frozen. The water in that vat seemed almost alive; as the elder's right hand stirred it, the surface swirled higher and higher until it detached from the vat's walls, lifted into the air, yet continued to flow ceaselessly, like a crystalline water curtain suspended in mid-air.

"Remember the movement of my muscles and tendons. Whether you learn it or not, whether you remain Chen Mo or not, engrave it in your heart. This is one of the true transmissions of my Tai Chi lineage. Even if you cannot comprehend it now, sooner or later you will understand."

The mountain-guarding elder's voice was low. As he spoke and breathed, Chen Mo watched those trembling muscles tighten and relax—when tight, they expanded outward; when relaxed, they rippled like waves. Was this still a human body? To think it could reach such a level. And all these miraculous changes revolved around the elder's spine. "This backbone is a dormant true dragon within the human body, a bridge to the heavens above—connecting the head above and the torso below, bearing the will of a martial artist standing between heaven and earth. It is both the pillar of the flesh and the backbone of the spirit. It is precisely because of this great dragon that humans can walk upright and breathe smoothly."

The mountain-guarding elder spoke at length, swaying his waist. One could see each segment of his spine immediately emerge from beneath his taut skin. The originally seamless vertebrae loosened and tightened with his prolonged breathing, as if they had come alive. It was simply incredible. Chen Mo had long imagined the power of martial arts, but he had never thought it would be this extraordinary. "Just watching isn't enough. Come feel it with your hands."

"Huh?" Chen Mo let out a strange cry. "That seems a bit inappropriate, doesn't it?"

The mountain-guarding elder didn't have much patience and immediately cursed, "You ungrateful wretch. On the path of martial arts, especially internal cultivation, the true essence often cannot be described in words. Aside from oral instruction, you must feel the internal changes with your own hands. You think you can learn just by watching me demonstrate once? If that were true, back in the day those Japanese devils wouldn't have stood a chance—I would have slaughtered my way into Japan long ago."

Chen Mo pursed his lips, feeling confused in his heart. Was this old man trying to help him or kill him? His attitude changed by the day—smiling one moment, cursing the next—harder to please than an old wife. He stopped talking and carefully extended his right hand. Before he could even lower it completely, the mountain-guarding elder's sinister voice emerged again, "Press down firmly."

Chen Mo quickly pressed down with all five fingers. But when he actually pressed down, his expression changed again. "Hmm?"

Chen Mo felt that within this seemingly lean body, there seemed to flow surging waves, and his right hand was pushed along like a floating boat, carried to the right shoulder. The direction of the force was exactly where his right hand was. Was this the movement and change of muscles and tendons? Amazed, Chen Mo became entranced. He stopped letting his mind wander, closed his eyes, and carefully sensed that miraculous power. He discovered that every breath this man took would pull that spine, and as the spine trembled, the muscles on both sides would immediately come alive, traveling from inside to outward, extending all the way to the four limbs. And every time the mountain-guarding elder stirred the clear water in the vat, those muscles moving like fish would instantly tighten, coiling like a turtle and snake intertwined. This was tightening to release power—the spine too became seamless, like a steel whip, or as if it had truly transformed into a great dragon. "So that's it."

The many doubts in Chen Mo's heart suddenly cleared, as if sweeping away the mist before his eyes to reveal the blue sky. Was this the secret of internal martial arts? He became completely immersed in it, immersed in these unimaginable and mysterious movements. A full two hours passed. Chen Mo not only figured out every section of the spine, but also the movement of those muscles releasing power, and how to contract and release them—all deepened through repeated sensation. And the mountain-guarding elder's body grew increasingly hot, as if a raging fire burned within. Only when Chen Mo withdrew his right hand did the elder exhale, his lips parting as a stream of white air shot out like an arrow from a bow, traveling five or six meters straight to splash against the constantly fluttering window paper. Chen Mo didn't speak or open his eyes. Instead, he sat down on the spot, his mind filled with those ever-changing muscle movements, as if some heavenly mystery was hidden within, making it hard for him to return to his senses for a long time. Another hour passed before he slowly opened his eyes. The mountain-guarding elder was wrapped in his black cotton-padded jacket—so black that even the stitching was invisible—sitting cross-legged on a rush cushion, motionless. Chen Mo stared blankly, thinking of those scenes from martial arts novels. He suddenly extended his index finger and slowly placed it beneath the old man's nostrils. "Thank goodness, there's still breath."

The mountain-guarding elder lifted his eyelids and stared straight at him, speaking concisely: "Get lost!"

Chen Mo gave an awkward smile. Without wasting words, he turned and pushed open the door to leave. When he returned to the dormitory, everyone else was already asleep. Chen Mo stuffed some firewood into the kang hole and lit it before crawling into his ice-cold bedding. Feeling the warmth gradually rising beneath him, he thought about it more and felt something was wrong. Had he guessed wrong before? At first he thought the other party wanted to use him, but now suddenly expending great effort to pass on such a supreme technique—what was the purpose? Had his conscience awakened? Or was he out of his mind? Why was this person so conflicted? Wrapped in his quilt, Chen Mo listened to Yu Ping and Yu An's teeth grinding and Wu Fang's snoring as he closed his eyes in confusion. In the following days, he still went up the mountain to hunt in the morning and chopped wood at the forestry station at noon as usual. The timber at the forestry station had basically been moved out. Aside from stockpiling food for winter, only firewood remained for daily heating, cooking, and drinking water. The female Youxue Qingnian (educated youth) had also idle down, enthusiastically preparing the programs they were arranging. Wu Fang, relying on having an accordion, went over to the female Youxue Qingnian's side every day, making Yu Ping and Yu An green with envy. But unlike everyone else's joy and celebration, the sense of crisis in Chen Mo's heart grew heavier. Logically speaking, this matter had nothing to do with him. If he pretended not to know anything, could he stay out of it? No. Chen Mo instantly dismissed this thought. Although he didn't know the grievances between Third Master Xie and the mountain-guarding elder, nor did he know what earth-shattering thing was buried here, he could still distinguish good from bad. At least the one on the mountain wouldn't kill innocent people indiscriminately—not only that, he had saved him and Liu Dazhuang. But the one down the mountain was another matter. "If I die, I die. I can't be unprepared when trouble comes."

With his mind settled, Chen Mo went up the mountain more frequently. Even as the weather grew colder and more severe, he ran all over the mountains instead, freezing and gasping every day, until eventually even Third Master Xie couldn't be bothered to follow him. Until late November. A white, hair-like snowstorm swept in from Ta County—an indescribable tempest. The wind carried scattered frost, cold as knives, swirling and howling. Wherever the wind and frost passed, the sky turned