Wasteland Forest

Jiang Qinghe took a deep breath, calming the turmoil in his heart, and could not help asking:

"Master, if I wish to continue improving, what should I do?"

Seeing the thirst for knowledge in his disciple's eyes, Elder Ping looked gratified and said slowly:

"Then you must broaden the boundaries of your martial path. Seek out and cultivate other offensive arts of the same type, train them to perfection, comprehend their momentum, then stack and merge them. Only then can you break through."

Jiang Qinghe nodded, pondering inwardly:

Fists, palms, legs, sabers, swords, spears... the eighteen weapons and arts.

The momentum comprehended from different types of offensive arts, even when cultivated to perfection, cannot be shared.

If I comprehend the momentum of the Mountain Shaking Palm in the future and wish to climb another hundred-foot pole, I will need to seek out other profound palm techniques.

After hearing Elder Ping's guidance, many of Jiang Qinghe's recent doubts about cultivation were swept away, and everything suddenly became clear.

He bowed in salute. After bidding his Master farewell, he headed toward his own secluded courtyard.

He had only just stepped onto the path when he ran into someone coming toward him. It was his Fifth Senior Brother, Zhao Guangyi, who had just staggered out of the steaming kitchen.

Zhao Guangyi no longer carried himself with his usual upright bearing. Even his broad shoulders drooped loosely.

He yawned as he rubbed his bleary eyes, clearly still not fully recovered from last night's drinking.

"Junior Brother!"

Zhao Guangyi narrowed his eyes. Once he recognized Jiang Qinghe, he called out in a slightly hoarse voice:

"It's only the first day of the new year, and you're already up so early? Can't you give yourself a few days off to rest?"

Jiang Qinghe smiled.

"Senior Brother, I already slacked off for an entire day yesterday. Cultivation is like rowing upstream: if you do not advance, you fall behind. If I do not pick it back up now, I'm afraid I'll grow rusty."

"Good lad, you've got spirit!"

Zhao Guangyi slapped a large hand onto Jiang Qinghe's shoulder.

"Come on, I'll give you a hand and spar with you for a bit. I can sober up while I'm at it!"

Without waiting for Jiang Qinghe's reply, he threw an arm around his shoulders and led him toward his own rear courtyard.

Half an hour later, in the rear courtyard of Zhao Guangyi's private martial residence.

The snow had been cleared away to reveal an open patch of ground. Two figures leaped and darted about, the sounds of palms striking palms ringing without end.

After more than a hundred exchanges, the two separated.

Jiang Qinghe's breathing was slightly hurried, and sweat beaded his brow, but his eyes shone brightly. He had clearly gained much from the exchange.

Zhao Guangyi, meanwhile, had completely shaken off his hangover. A flicker of shock crossed his face before he immediately teased:

"Unbelievable, unbelievable! Never mind that you've reached Minor Accomplishment in Tendon Transformation—you've even comprehended the rudiments of martial momentum. You really are a freak!"

Zhao Guangyi circled Jiang Qinghe several times, clicking his tongue in wonder. His stare made the latter's scalp tingle.

"Back then, I trained through the bitter cold of winter and the scorching heat of summer, spending several years before I barely managed to comprehend it. Who would have thought that, without a word, you little brat would catch up to me..."

As he spoke, he shook his head and put on an air of weary age.

"Truly, the waves behind drive the waves ahead, and the waves ahead die upon the beach. Before long, these old bones of mine will probably be slapped onto the shore by you and laid out to dry like fish."

Jiang Qinghe spread his hands helplessly.

"Senior Brother, compared to the children of the great clans in the city, not to mention those legendary sect geniuses, I'm nothing special."

Zhao Guangyi raised a thick brow, his eyes glinting sharply.

"Talent is given by your parents. Fortuitous encounters are bestowed by Heaven. But the road is one you walk yourself. They merely started from a higher point. Given time, we martial brothers will sooner or later trample them beneath our feet."

Jiang Qinghe gave him a thumbs-up.

"Wise words, Senior Brother!"

As if recalling something, Zhao Guangyi changed the subject, a smile appearing on his face.

"Now that I think about it, just trading moves in this courtyard is a little dull. Junior Brother, are you interested in getting some real combat practice? I'll take you around the edge of the Wasteland Forest and hunt a Demon Beast for fun."

Wasteland Forest? Demon Beasts? Jiang Qinghe's heart stirred.

During breaks from cultivation these past few days, he had browsed through some books and developed a certain interest in the vast, mysterious Wasteland Forest bordering Lin'an County.

Now that Zhao Guangyi had brought it up himself, his curiosity immediately surged.

"Senior Brother, when do we set out?"

Zhao Guangyi rested his chin on his hand and pondered for a moment, then suddenly clapped his hands.

"No time like the present—right now! You and I will return to our rooms and pack simply. We'll meet at the main gate in a quarter of an hour."

He added:

"We'll only be taking a look around the outskirts, letting you scout the place and get familiar with the surroundings. We won't be going deep. If all goes well, we can return tonight; at the latest, by noon tomorrow. Just bring a little dry food and water."

Jiang Qinghe acknowledged him, then quickly left and returned to his own courtyard.

He did not have much to prepare. He merely took a dagger from a compartment beneath his bed, secured it in a leather sheath against the inside of his forearm, and pushed open the door.

Just as he was about to knock on Ziyue's door opposite his, intending to give her a few reminders,

the little girl pushed the door open herself and stood prettily before him.

She held out a brand-new padded jacket with fine, meticulous stitching, carefully offering it to him in a crisp, pleasant voice.

"Brother, are you going out? Here, I made this for you. It's really warm! There's heavy snow and cold wind outside, so be careful not to catch a chill."

Warmth filled Jiang Qinghe's heart. He accepted the jacket his sister had made and immediately put it on, then affectionately patted her little head.

"Ziyue, your brother has something to do and will be gone for a day or two. Stay home and behave yourself. Don't go messing with those wooden posts again and hurt yourself."

When Jiang Ziyue heard her brother bring up the embarrassing incident from Last Time, when she had stubbornly overexerted herself, she pouted and said coquettishly:

"Hmph, Brother, you're so annoying. I'm not talking to you anymore!"

Though her words were full of complaint, those large eyes of hers brimmed with dependence.

"Haha!"

Jiang Qinghe waggled his brows and pulled a face, making his sister burst into laughter despite herself.

Only then did he turn and stride away.

Behind him came Jiang Ziyue's concerned voice:

"Brother, be careful out there!"

"Don't worry!"

The western gate of Lin'an County.

The blue-gray city walls, more than three zhang high, stood tall against the assault of the northern wind.

Only a few bailiffs stood watch at the gate, doing so halfheartedly.

Huddled beneath the wall where they could shelter from the wind, they breathed warm air into their hands and idly chatted about household gossip. They could not be bothered to spare more than a glance at the few pedestrians entering and leaving the gate.

As Jiang Qinghe and Zhao Guangyi left the city, piercing cold wind laden with fine snow foam rushed straight at them.

As far as the eye could see lay a boundless expanse of wilderness, blanketed in white snow and radiating vast desolation.

Not far from the western gate was a broad river—the Qing River.

This was the river where the old boatman had found Jiang Qinghe all those years ago, and it was also the source of his name.

At this time, the river had long since frozen into a vast mirror of ice, covered by days of heavy snowfall.

After crossing the bridge, the view suddenly opened up. The Wasteland Forest had arrived.

The endless primeval forest stretched out in a sea of white, lifeless and silent, carrying an invisible pressure.

Jiang Qinghe followed Zhao Guangyi into the forest. After walking for a while, all he saw was snow, and then more snow.

Forget Demon Beasts—he had not even seen the shadow of a bird.

Seeing the silent surroundings, he could not help feeling puzzled. Lowering his voice, he asked:

"Senior Brother, in this frozen world, there isn't even the shadow of a bird in the forest. Where are we supposed to find traces of a Demon Beast?"