Under the fist

Chapter 38 A Letter from Guangxi, The White Lotus Assassin

"The art of eyewitness account?"

Lian Youming hurriedly wiped the lampshade and squinted to examine it closely.

But upon closer inspection, one cannot help but feel confused.

According to this, one needs to sense the Qi of heaven and earth when Yin and Yang meet, and also observe the sun and moon at specific times. For example, one should sense the rising Yang Qi between heaven and earth when the sun is about to rise, and gaze at the first ray of light before the sun rises in the east; and in the middle of each month, when the bright moon is in the sky, one should look at the moon and use the sun and moon to refine one's eyes.

Unlike other martial arts, this technique does not require the cultivation of physical strength. One only needs to focus on visualization, condense one's energy and killing intent into a sword, and use one's mind to injure the enemy. Once the conditions are right, there is no need to move. One can capture the enemy's spirit with a focused gaze. The eyes are like sharp swords, and one can injure people even while sitting still.

Lian Youming frowned for a long time. He knew about the killing intent, but how could he condense the killing intent into a sword?
Visualization in mind?

What should we visualize?
Lian Youming looked at it again and again but still couldn't understand its meaning, finding it obscure and difficult to comprehend.

"I wonder if Gong Wuer and Xue Hen have discovered the coffin under the stone bed."

Seeing the oil lamp getting dimmer and dimmer, he didn't have time to think it through and pulled the trigger to climb out.

……

Early in the morning, the male educated youth in the forest farm got up one after another, dragging their sore and tired limbs, and yawning as they walked toward the logging camp.

When Wu Kui and the others met Lian Youming, they were all shocked. Lian Youming's eyes were bloodshot, tears were streaming down his face, and even his eye sockets were red.

"Oh dear, Captain, why are you crying?"

"Thinking about that educated youth named Yan Lingyun? Who knew our team leader was such a tough guy with a soft heart? He seems fine on the surface, but he cries alone in private. Team leader, you have to hold on! You're the hope of all of us now, give us extra meat every day..."

Yu Wen and Yu Wu also joined in the commotion.

Lian Youming wanted to roll his eyes, but when he rolled his eyes, even more tears flowed, stinging painfully. "Stop talking nonsense."

He wasn't crying; he was just looking at the sun.

Since emerging from the stone coffin, Lian Youming figured that since he couldn't figure it out, he might as well give it a try. So, he stood on the mountaintop like an idiot and waited for the sun for half an hour, and this is what happened.

You really can't practice blindly.

Taking the two large steamed buns from Wu Kui, Lian Youming took a big bite, wiping away tears as he thought about the corpse in the stone coffin.

This person should not be the original owner of the tomb, since although the clothes were somewhat tattered, they were basically well preserved and could not have been more than a hundred years old.

In other words, the other party also usurped the position, and was then killed on the spot by a top master with unparalleled fist power.

The group of people who guarded the mountain should be considered to be later arrivals.

"What's wrong with them? Why do they all like to go into tombs?"

Seeing that the lumberjacks had all gotten up, Lian Youming put aside his thoughts and led a group of educated youths to follow them with their respective tools.

Located in the Greater Khingan Mountains, Tahe is undoubtedly the most developed in terms of forestry resources. In addition, the country is currently in a period of rapid economic development, and there is a need for timber everywhere. Such logging work often continues until autumn, which is when they first came up the mountain last year. As soon as the weather gets cold and there are a few snowfalls, the workers will come down the mountain, and they can finally have a short break.

tired.

very tired.

But the more tired he was, the less he had the mind to think about anything else when practicing Youming. He found joy in hardship, and whether sitting, lying down, or walking, he would subconsciously manipulate his muscles and bones, adjust his internal energy, and immerse himself in meditation.

Compared to freaks like Xue Hen and Gong Wu'er, he lacked both depth and a mentor, so he naturally couldn't afford to slack off.

But he would never be jealous or envious.

Gong Wuer is right, sincerity is essential.

This sincerity lies in hard work, in being down-to-earth, and in honing one's skills through countless trials.

The skill of kung fu is neither something that can be spoken nor seen; it is something that can be honed over time. Those who are cunning and lazy, who are afraid of hardship and fatigue, only harm themselves and belittle themselves. Such people may win temporarily through scheming, but once they encounter a strong opponent, they will eventually fall to the other's fists.

Practicing martial arts is not something that can be achieved overnight. In those unknown pasts, Lian Youming knew that people like Xue Hen had paid unimaginable hardships and efforts. Gong Wuer practiced martial arts to the point that he almost gave up the desires that ordinary people should have. This was a sacrifice, but also a sincere dedication to martial arts, a sincerity that was almost like being possessed.

Lian Youming knew he couldn't do that, and he wouldn't do it; he only knew to keep walking steadily.

Always remember, there will be reverberations.

This principle applies to both being a person and practicing martial arts. Amidst the chopping sounds of axes, facing the rising sun, and casting aside his wandering thoughts, Lian Youming, panting heavily, belted out a song to the exhausted Wu Kui: "The sun sets in the west, the rosy clouds fly, the soldiers return to camp after target practice..."

Yu Wen and Yu Wu looked distressed. "They're already exhausted like animals, and they're still going to sing?"

But then they suddenly looked at each other and laughed, and began to sing in a wailing, maniacal voice: "Red flowers on our chests reflect the rosy clouds, joyful songs fill the sky..."

Find joy in hardship and encourage each other.

Lian Youming started the song, and from all directions in the forest, a group of educated youth joined in, one after another.

Time flies like water, and before they knew it, the group of people who were originally impetuous and frivolous had become more and more mature through such harsh environment.

Unlike the south, the summer temperature in Tarim River is only around 20 degrees Celsius, which is very cool and spares a group of people from the torment of the sweltering heat.

Lian Youming practices martial arts during the day and goes to a dark room to practice at night. Every few days, he goes to the mountains to hunt and satisfy his cravings.

It's a pity that there was nothing useful in the coffin except for a book on "the art of eyewitnessing".

As the days went by, his weight became increasingly astonishing. When he landed on the black soil, his footprints sank deeper than those of an ordinary person, and he could hear a slight creak when he stepped on the sand and stones. Moreover, his strength grew stronger and stronger. If he wasn't careful, he would either break a porcelain bowl or snap a chopstick.

Fortunately, as his mastery of "silk coiling energy" deepened, this strange phenomenon did not last long.

Thus, until early August, when Army Day arrived, Platoon Leader Yang gave everyone a day off.

Amidst the resounding military songs, a group of people who had been treated like livestock on the mountain for two months took their wages and rushed down the mountain like madmen, ransacking the supply and marketing cooperative and the state-run restaurant.

By this time, the educated youth movement was almost completely over, and many of the educated youth returning to the cities had brought their families with them.

He came as a boy, and returned with his children grown up, established in their own families.

Lian Youming also went down the mountain to Qin Yuhu's house. He was getting impatient with Li Da's lack of response and assumed that the other party had really forgotten his promise.

But fearing that Qin Yuhu might overthink things, he didn't dare to ask.

Coincidentally, Shen Qinghong took out several letters, all of which were sent from Guangxi.

As if she had guessed that Lian Youming's weight would change abnormally, Yan Lingyun explained many things in detail, telling him to let things take their natural course, and that these were all normal phenomena, and that there might be a time when he would accumulate strength and undergo a transformation.

Furthermore, Yan Lingyun also sent him a handwritten booklet containing a family-inherited Five Animal Frolics exercise. It was not a martial art, but a health-preserving technique that would help him control his suddenly increased strength, and she suggested that he practice it more often when he had free time.

Looking at the girl's delicate handwriting and the densely packed words, Lian Youming smiled knowingly. Then, thinking of the "witnessing technique" in the coffin, an idea struck him. He wrote a few pages of letters, went to the post office, and bought some of Yan Lingyun's favorite foods, intending to send them along with the letter.

There were quite a few people at the post office because of the holiday.

Lian Youming was in line when he suddenly caught sight of something on the bulletin board, and his eyes lit up.

"Is this a monkey stamp?"

Special stamps issued in 1980.

A sheet of eighty stamps cost six yuan and forty cents, so each stamp was eight cents.

Lian Youming calculated his salary savings from the past six months. He had hardly spent any money, and it was close to 300 yuan. Adding what he had left over from last year, it was about 500 yuan.

But he was just thinking about it. If he really wanted to buy it, he would have plenty of opportunities to go to Beijing when he returned to the city.

After queuing for a while, it was already evening when Lian Youming finished mailing the letter and package. He then hitched a ride on a timber truck outside the city to return to the forest farm.

Outside the window, the sun is setting, and the sky is ablaze with red clouds.

Lian Youming sat in the passenger seat and thanked the driver, then began to read Yan Lingyun's letters again.

There's just too much to write down; I can't remember it all in one go.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Lian Youming caught sight of two figures in the rearview mirror, a man and a woman, clinging to the edge of the truck.

His heart tightened, and he was about to warn the driver when, as soon as he turned his head, a cold, piercing glint of light shot straight at his throat, a deadly move that would leave no survivors.

Looking at the driver's fierce face, Lian Youming raised his thick eyebrows, turned around quickly, stuffed the letter into his arms, and arched his back at the same time. The car door behind him was smashed open with a "bang" as if it had been hit by a heavy hammer.

Without the slightest hesitation, Lian Youming pushed off with both feet and jumped out of the truck.

White Lotus Sect?
(End of this chapter)