The next day.
Still half-asleep, Lian Youming heard Yu Wen and Yu Wu making a racket again. But this time the two brothers weren't goofing around—Liu Dabiao had come down with a high fever, probably from an infected wound. By now he was raving, muttering incoherently like a shaman in a trance.
Platoon Leader Yang came to look, his face changed, and he didn't dare linger, sending the man down the mountain immediately.
Lian Youming, on the other hand, was covered in cuts but otherwise fine—still full of energy, eating and sleeping as usual.
But after last night's disturbance, and since he'd been injured saving someone, he naturally received the treatment due to a wounded man. He was approved one day's rest, with his injuries observed at the same time.
Watching Liu Dabiao being carried out in a scramble, Lian Youming lost all thought of sleep. Seeing it was still dark, he washed up and practiced grappling techniques and lethal combat techniques on the open ground outside the dormitory.
"I never thought fist and foot skills could have that kind of power."
Even now he marveled at everything he'd seen last night.
The mountain guard was over a hundred years old, yet in movement even a top predator like an Amur leopard couldn't react before dying under his palm—truly unbelievable.
"Could he really be an old demon in human skin? Can martial arts really cultivate an immortal?"
Though he was indulging in wild speculation, the fire in his heart burned ever fiercer.
And there was Xie Laosan.
This White Lotus Sect demon hiding among the common people.
Lian Youming was sharp-witted and had already figured some things out.
The disturbance last night had undoubtedly been his doing.
As for why, that was simple enough: it was for the mountain guard.
The beasts came and went silently and suddenly, and were probably probing.
Probing what?
Recalling what Xie Laosan said yesterday, this mountain guard had stood watch here for sixty or seventy years.
Such a person—a top master—willingly hiding in this remote primeval forest must have some hidden agenda.
Was he guarding a secret, or something?
Only this made sense of Xie Laosan's motives.
And from last night alone it was clear that Xie Laosan was ruthless; without the mountain guard's intervention, he and Liu Dabiao would have been beast food.
Harboring a scheme yet hiding for so many years was nothing more than fear of insufficient strength and inability to defeat the mountain guard. So he could only wait, only endure, waiting for the other to age and weaken, and then he'd have a chance.
So last night Xie Laosan wanted to use these educated youth as bait to probe how much strength the mountain guard had left and how long he could survive.
"This old thing."
Thinking of this, cold sweat broke out on Lian Youming's back, he shivered, and his eyes turned gloomy.
If last night the mountain guard wasn't Xie Laosan's match, or showed any sign of weakness, would everyone at the forest farm have to die?
No. Wrong.
The casualness on Lian Youming's face vanished in an instant, replaced by solemnity.
Because the mountain guard had already shown signs of weakness last night.
Lian was only guessing, but the mountain guard surely knew the other's schemes; as an enemy, he should naturally take his life to eliminate future trouble. Yet the mountain guard didn't pursue, but returned.
This showed his strength was not what it had been, and he no longer had certainty of victory.
That was bad.
Last night was only a probe; before long, Xie Laosan would surely turn murderous.
Once he acted, how could anyone at the forest farm survive?
They were all ordinary people, unaware they had unknowingly been drawn into an unimaginable martial-world slaughter.
The sudden crisis instantly left Lian Youming feeling exposed and anxious, and he grew irritable.
As the saying goes, when the city gate catches fire, the fish in the moat suffer.
He had seen the methods of these extraordinary people; if it came to fighting, Xie Laosan would kill them as easily as pulling weeds, and with the beast-driving technique to cover it up, no god or ghost would know.
And what if that old thing had helpers?
No. Since he'd detected the signs, he couldn't just sit and wait for death.
Lian Youming swallowed hard, then suddenly turned toward the open field behind the canteen.
Sneaking around wasn't his nature; better to be direct and lay all cards on the table.
Even if that man was fierce, he surely wouldn't kill him over a disagreement, right?
Daylight had come; though Lian Youming had steeled himself, just thinking of the mountain guard's fierce old face still filled him with reluctance.
"Kid, what are you doing here?"
But before he'd even stepped in, the mountain guard's gloomy voice floated over.
The man stood in the shadows like a ghost, staring fixedly at him.
Lian Youming hesitated. "Senior, can I go in and talk?"
The mountain guard was expressionless, silent for a while, then coldly said, "Come in."
Lian Youming's tension eased, and he carefully entered the old man's earth house.
Unexpectedly, the inside was empty—only a meditation cushion, a dying lamp, and a wooden table holding a few memorial tablets, not even a place to sleep.
Without betraying anything, Lian Youming glanced at the tablets, faintly making out the characters "Yang Banhou."
"Say what you have to say, and spit it out quickly." The mountain guard had his hands behind his back, his tone impatient.
Lian Youming took a deep breath, met eyes that seemed able to devour him, and softly probed, "I can help you."
The old man was taken aback, then mocked, "Kid, with your wild fox Zen, go back and pee in the mud to play—do you think you're worthy of teaming up with me?"
"So you know everything?" Lian Youming heard something else, his eyes flashing, "Then why didn't you act last night?"
The old man walked a few steps and sat on the cushion, saying calmly, "No harm telling you: last night there was more than one person lurking nearby—one in the open, one hidden, concealing his breath extremely well. Once I acted, it would pull the whole thread. I don't fear death, but you people would almost certainly die."
After speaking, the old man added with a false smile, "Besides, human hearts are deceitful—who knows whether you, kid, have schemes of your own?"
Lian Youming frowned and remained silent for a long time, as if thinking how to respond.
The old man faced the wall, his back to the door, like a clay statue. "But you're a smart one. You didn't immediately go find that Yang kid, nor did you think of escaping down the mountain."
Lian Youming raised his eyebrows—he wasn't stupid.
Xie Laosan had lain low for so many years and was presumably very familiar with Platoon Leader Yang and the others. Speaking out would alert the enemy; and if the other side had accomplices, desperation could drive them to anything, causing another disaster.
As for going down the mountain, setting aside other things, with weather like this, if he got lost he could freeze to death. Besides, when the mountain guard saved him last night, he'd said the words "White Lotus Sect."
Xie Laosan had lain low for years; with a scheme in mind, he certainly wouldn't allow complications. Not that he'd kill him, but he wouldn't let him go get reinforcements—at least not before the other side acted.
"So you deliberately harmed me." Lian Youming's face turned grim.
The mountain guard sneered, "But I saved you."
Lian Youming lost his temper too, face cold. "You just saw I know some fist and foot skills last night and wanted to rope me onto your broken boat. I guess you don't have certainty of victory either, and you're rushing to find a helper. Too bad there are no experts—only one practitioner of wild fox Zen."
His thoughts exposed, the mountain guard narrowed his eyes and his beard and hair bristled, as if truly angry.
However, just as Lian Youming trembled with fear, the old man before him smiled again. "You have a smart streak, but you're using it in the wrong place. To be honest, old man never thought of teaming up with anyone; saving you was just a casual matter. As for pulling you in, it was purely because I suspected you and Xie Laosan were of the same ilk, wanting to test you... now it seems you're not."
Lian Youming took a deep breath, a light called curiosity flickering in his eyes. "What exactly are you guarding here for?"
The old man suddenly stopped smiling, his eyes calm, his tone calm as he said, "Fine to say, but whoever knows this must die. Are you sure you want to know?"
Though the other spoke lightly, Lian Youming felt an indescribable terrifying killing intent, wrapping toward him like a malignant sore clinging to the bone.
Lian Youming's face went pale. "Can you drop the master act first? Just tell me what to do now? Will they kill those at the forest farm?"
"Hard to say." The old man shook his head, then uttered a startling sentence: "That expert hidden in the shadows is right among your people."
"What?"
Lian Youming was truly shocked now.
The old man's implication was that an internal martial artist was hiding among the educated youth.
"How can this be?" Lian Youming's face kept changing, full of suspicion and uncertainty.
The old man snorted. "Strange to the inexperienced. That person probably used some collarbone disguise to deceive eyes and ears."
Lian Youming said in a deep voice, "What should I do?"
The old man shook his head. "You'd better rely on yourself. Others might not die, but you're in danger... or, help me kill Xie Laosan."
Lian Youming's eyes widened. "What's the difference between this and sending me to my death?"
The old man glanced at him sideways. "Idiot, there are many ways to kill; who told you to do it openly and aboveboard?"
Lian Youming frowned. "What do you mean?"
The old man's eyes flickered. "If you can do it, do it; if not, find a place to hide."
Lian Youming coldly said, "Then I'll go find Platoon Leader Yang and tell him about this."
"No." The old man glared at Lian Youming. "They might live if they don't know, but if they're drawn in, they're surely dead."
Lian Youming frowned. "Anyway, I don't want to be involved in your business. But no matter what, I won't wait to die; whoever wants to kill me, I'll kill them."
After a slight pause, his eyes suddenly brightened. "Otherwise I'll use a gun. When I go into the mountains with him, I'll secretly fire a cold shot, guaranteed to blow his head open."
Hearing this, the mountain guard fell silent for a long while before saying, "How much confidence do you have? That Xie Laosan is an expert with guns. You only have one shot; if you fail, he might get angry and go on a killing spree, and everyone at the forest farm would die."
Hearing there was risk, Lian Youming thought again. "I've thought of another excellent idea."
"Let's hear it!"
The old man looked over, eyes burning, seeming somewhat expectant.
Meeting the old man's weathered eyes, Lian Youming spoke with extreme seriousness: "That is... you teach me everything you know, and once I've mastered unmatched martial arts, I'll guarantee wiping them out one by one."
At these words, the old man's cheeks twitched, his lips moved, silently opening and closing, as if cursing some ugly words.
Seeing the old man didn't respond, Lian Youming continued without changing expression. "Then I'll take a step back—teach me two supreme techniques. I don't want commonplace stuff; I want the kind that astonishes everyone, enough to be truly exceptional..."
Just as he spoke, the old man's breath suddenly grew chaotic, his body trembling. The color drained from his aged face, covered with a deathly gray qi, and his withered body shrank, becoming shriveled.
Seeing this reaction, Lian Youming jumped. "Senior, I was joking with you. Rest assured, since it's a matter of life and death, even if there's only one chance, I'll give it a try."
The old man didn't speak but sat cross-legged on the cushion, breathing in deeply. As his breath went in and out, an indescribable decay instantly filled the air, as if he were already dead, his five organs decayed and his intestines rotted.
But strangely, the old man's breath transformed; his originally gray and sallow complexion visibly reddened a bit, and his withered, shriveled body swelled considerably.
Only after exhaling a wisp of foul qi like gray smoke did the old man open his eyes again.
To Lian Youming's surprise, the first thing the old man said when he opened his eyes was, "Fine, I can teach you... from now on come here every night at two in the morning. Your time is short; how much you learn depends on your talent..."
...
By the time Lian Youming returned to the dormitory, the others had already gone out.
The casualness on his face was gone, replaced by solemn seriousness.
Truly unlucky.
He wanted to learn martial arts, but he hadn't wanted to be drawn into this life-threatening martial-world strife.
Although Xie Laosan wasn't a good person, the mountain guard couldn't be trusted lightly either.
This man had guarded a secret for so many years; who knew if he'd kill to silence in the end.
He couldn't gamble; he still had to rely on himself.
Lian Youming sat on the bed with two pieces of brocade silk spread before him, his gaze turned intent. Though he'd figured out some approaches to this, he hadn't truly tried it yet.
After a slight hesitation, Lian Youming began slowly exhaling and inhaling.
"Three Yin Earth Fiend Force."
The Three Yin, according to the markings on the human figure, were the six meridians of hand three yin and foot three yin, encompassing the vital points of the five organs: heart, liver, spleen, lung, and kidney.
"Press the tongue to the upper palate, pump the two cheeks, hold saliva and swallow, let qi enter the throat and tongue, let the spirit roam the three yin..."
Reciting the formula once silently, Lian Youming tried again.
He held his breath and concentrated, sending qi straight into his throat and tongue. In an instant his chest and abdomen heaved incessantly, as if his heart and lungs trembled along. Originally steady breathing instantly turned chaotic; after only a few seconds, Lian Youming was drenched in sweat.
He merely opened his eyes, without any hesitation, closed them again and tried once more.
This time he slowed his breath as much as possible, cleared away distracting thoughts, and breathed out and in again.
Then the third time, the fourth time...
Strange, truly strange.
After several attempts, Lian Youming's face grew paler, but his eyes grew brighter.
With each breath drawn into his abdomen, he discovered that the invisible breath had a strange rhythm.
This rhythm rose and fell, grew heavy and light, urgent and slow, generated by the heaving breath, and it also gave birth to a strange force—like invisible small hammers ceaselessly striking the muscles and flesh through which the qi flowed. Yet this force was powerless when light and injurious to the lungs and viscera when heavy; the deeper it sank, the deeper the heaving rhythm spread, and even his five organs, six viscera, and intestines faintly resonated along.
"Could this be the mystery within?"
Though he sensed the wonder of this breathing method, Lian Youming could never find the most suitable rhythm. The strange force it gave birth to alternated between strong and weak; when weak it was tolerable, but when the rhythm grew heavy, his throat and tongue stung as if swallowing steel knives, and his heart and lungs felt as if pricked by needles.
And the more he tried, the hungrier he felt. Originally full of energy, after practicing for less than half an hour, he was sweating profusely and listless.
Realizing something was wrong, he hurriedly put away the brocade silk, gathered everything edible in the dormitory, and wolfed it down. But that wasn't enough; Lian Youming stumbled to the canteen, where under the stunned gaze of the educated young women he ate eight bowls of congee, chewed through over ten steamed buns, and a cooked wild boar leg, stuffing his belly round.
"What an uncanny thing; no wonder it needs a food-replenishing method. It's starving me to death..."",
Chapter 8