Yang Guo: I defied death and reached the heavens in The Return of the Condor Heroes

The ancient tomb passage was dark and silent, with damp, cold air slowly seeping through the stone walls.

Ordinary people entering here would not be able to find their way, let alone open or close their eyes.

But this dimly lit environment, where it was impossible to see one's own hand, was practically useless to Yang Guo.

His extraordinary sensory perception allowed him to see without light; he could sketch the outlines of a radius of about ten feet around him simply by observing the slight tremors of the air and the echoes from the stone walls.

His breathing echoed softly between the cold stone walls as he deliberately avoided the protruding rubble and broken bricks in the passageway.

Each step was taken with utmost lightness, like a wisp of wind drifting in the cold, silently treading into the depths of the ancient tomb.

The layout and branching paths inside the tomb were far more complex than he had anticipated.

The stone walls on both sides were damp and cold; a thin layer of greasy moss would stick to your fingertips if you brushed them over. The air was filled with the musty smell of stone and a faint, cold fragrance.

He focused intently and discerned a faint trace of cold air within the murky yin energy.

The chill was not like the dispersing, cold air of a mountain stream, but rather a deep, pure, and penetrating cold, carrying a faint, warm quality reminiscent of jade.

Yang Guo followed the chilling aura steadily forward. The deeper he went, the more concentrated the chill became. Eventually, even his breath condensed into fine white mist around his lips.

He walked for about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, and his whole body was wrapped in cold air. He thought he was about to reach his destination, but when he looked up, the road ahead suddenly split into three paths.

Three streams of cold air emanated from the depths of the side passage, filling the damp and chilly corridor in wisps. The coldness originated from the same source and was of similar concentration, making it impossible to distinguish which was deeper based on physical sensation alone.

Yang Guo paused briefly at the crossroads, his fingertips brushing against a wisp of cold air, and he closed his eyes to discern the extremely faint scent of jade dust within it.

After a moment's thought, he had a plan in mind—the layout of the Ancient Tomb Sect should be centered around the central axis, while the left and right detours are mostly mazes or dead ends designed to lure the enemy.

Without further hesitation, he stepped into the middle fork in the road.

His five senses were fully activated, and he groped forward for about ten steps. Suddenly, the bluestone under his feet sank slightly by half an inch, a drop of less than half an inch, which would be difficult for an ordinary person to notice.

Almost simultaneously, a faint "click" sound from the rotating shafts of the mechanisms on both sides of the stone wall entered my ear canal.

The sound was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, blending into the whispers of the cold air, and could be easily missed if one wasn't paying attention.

Yang Guo was prepared. Before the mechanism was fully activated, he lightly touched the ground with his toes and spun around to the side to dodge.

With a sharp clang, a rusty crossbow bolted out from a hole in the side of the stone wall.

The arrow, bearing the rust of ancient bronze, exuded a chilling aura. It grazed the hem of his clothes and embedded itself in the opposite stone wall, its fletching still humming and vibrating.

But dodging one arrow was just the beginning; several more arrows were then fired in quick succession.

Dozens of cold rays burst forth from both sides of the stone wall, from the cracks underfoot, and from the hidden compartments above, weaving a dense net of arrows that blocked all directions of advance and retreat.

This mechanism was designed to be extremely insidious, precisely predicting the landing spot of the person after dodging the first arrow, with subsequent arrows following in quick succession, giving them no chance to breathe.

Yang Guo kept his steps steady, his figure weaving through the rain of arrows like a swimming fish.

They would either twist their waist to avoid vital points, or crouch low to the ground to dodge the arrows from the upper three paths. If there was no way to avoid them, they would use their flesh and qi to graz the arrows with their shoulders.

The arrow struck the skin imbued with white qi, leaving only a faint white mark before dissipating its force and bouncing sideways.

A few breaths later, the clicking of the mechanism gradually subsided, and the rain of arrows was completely embedded in the opposite stone wall, densely packed like a hedgehog.

Yang Guo glanced at the mechanism holes peeking out from the cracks in the stone wall, inwardly grumbling:

The person who built this ancient tomb must have been truly cunning, with a mechanism every three steps and a trap every five. If it weren't for my keen senses, an ordinary martial arts expert would probably have perished here before even reaching the halfway point.

He lifted his foot and continued forward, but his movements were lighter and slower than before, his spiritual sense firmly locking onto every inch of the stone wall around him.

After walking several dozen more steps, the passage ahead became increasingly narrow, and the chill seemed to bounce back as if it had hit a wall—at the end was a smooth stone wall without even a crack.

Yang Guo reached out and touched the wall, brushing off a thin layer of dust. He then tapped the wall with his finger, and the stone wall emitted a deep, dull sound. It was incredibly solid and contained no hidden doors or mechanisms.

It's solid; you've gone the wrong way.

He shook his head helplessly, but he wasn't annoyed.

Ancient tombs are notorious for their traps and mechanisms; it would be strange if someone could navigate them correctly on the first try.

He immediately turned around and walked briskly back to the fork in the road.

Back at the crossroads, he paused for a moment, carefully sensing the subtle differences in the flow of the cold air.

The middle path is a dead end, the right path is cold and scattered, and most likely leads to the outside of the mountain wall. Only the cold air in the left fork is heavy and dense, faintly carrying the warm and cold feeling of jade.

Having determined the direction, he immediately stepped into the left-hand side road.

This side path was almost half again as narrow as the middle one, and the moss on the stone walls on both sides was thicker and denser. You could even feel the slippery water stains when you stepped on the bluestone.

The passageway was narrow and long, but Yang Guo did not trigger any traps along the way. He felt a little relieved and quickened his pace slightly.

The deeper you go, the colder it gets. Eventually, even your eyelashes are covered with a layer of fine ice crystals. With each breath, white mist gathers and disperses around your lips.

As Yang Guo passed through the narrow passageway and rounded a corner, a half-open stone door suddenly came into view.

There were no ancient seal script inscriptions on the lintel, nor a speck of moss on the door frame. The heavy bluestone door panels were covered with layers of white frost, like snow that had never melted since ancient times.

A biting chill wafted in through the cracks in the door, condensing into wisps of white mist at his feet. Standing at the door for just a moment, he felt as if he were in an ice cave during the coldest days of winter.

Yang Guo's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly stepped forward and entered the stone gate.

The stone chamber was small, with smooth walls, and in the center sat a large, pure white ice stone bed.

The bed is perfectly formed, without any trace of carving, and a shimmering white light shines through the depths of the jade.

An endless chill emanated from the bed, spreading outwards and enveloping the entire stone chamber in a frosty atmosphere, as if even the air itself had frozen solid.

A slight smirk played on his lips, barely able to contain his delight.

From the broken kiln in Jiaxing to the lonely island of Peach Blossom, and then traveling thousands of miles north to Zhongnan Mountain, after months of wandering and enduring hardship, he has finally found this tremendous opportunity.

With this cold jade bed, the speed of reverse cultivation will increase by at least ten times.

Once the skill is mastered, all fears and suspicions, all grudges and feuds in the martial world, all the chaos of the Song and Mongol eras will be nothing to be afraid of.

What he wants to protect and what he wants to change will all become reality in the future.

Yang Guo strode to the bedside and gently pressed his hand on the bed surface.

A chill ran straight through his fingertips and into his meridians, like an ice snake that instantly slithered through his limbs and bones. The rebellious Qi that was flowing continuously within his body suddenly stopped, as if its circulation had been temporarily frozen by ice.

But he remained calm at all; instead, a hint of joy appeared in his eyes.

Without looking at him any longer, he turned over and sat on the bed, placing his hands on his knees to settle down. He gently closed his eyes and began to circulate the Reverse Life Technique.

The cold air instantly rushed into his body from all directions, penetrating his pores and meridians into his bone marrow, determined to freeze him into a block of ice.

The original stable state of the bluestone courtyard was being torn apart and crushed repeatedly by an invisible hand under the power of extreme cold.

The edges of the skin and flesh, which had been transformed by Qi, continued to crack and dissolve, and even the circulation of the meridians was three times slower than usual.

The construction and maintenance of each breath requires several times more mental and physical effort than usual.

Yang Guo remained calm, as if he had anticipated everything that was happening within his body.

The so-called "reverse rebirth" is a tempering method that goes against the will of heaven—broken bones will become stronger after they are reconnected; torn muscles will become stronger after they are healed.

This acquired rebirth, under the repeated obstruction and tearing of the extreme cold of the Jade Bed, will become more solid and resilient with each recovery and reconstruction of the self than before.

After the skin and flesh comes the tendons and bones. When the tendons and bones transform, it is the time of the first breakdown and the second establishment.

The chill was like a knife, scraping away at his Qi barrier again and again; his mind was like a hammer, forging and fusing the shattered Qi back together time and time again.

The pain was real, and the cold was real, but the visible progress was more moving than any sweet words.