Peerless Finger and Leg Techniques, Zen and Martial Arts as One

Since spending three days studying scriptures in the Scripture Repository and choosing the ultimate techniques he wished to cultivate, Zhu Yingxiong's daily life had settled into a regular, rigorous rhythm of training.

He had chosen to cultivate One-Finger Zen and the Shadow-Following Leg first.

There was good reason for this choice. As a disciple of the Dharma Hall, mastering finger techniques was the proper path. If he could master the force of One-Finger Zen, he would have a secure advantage in the year-end competition. His leg technique and lightness skill, meanwhile, were preparation for possible travels through the martial world. Even should he encounter a powerful foe beyond his strength, he would at least be able to escape.

Shaolin martial arts had always emphasized solid foundations and steady accumulation before explosive results.

The Iron Finger Meditation Force and Dragonfly Skimming Water Lightness Skill he had cultivated before—one had tempered his finger strength and honed his sinews and bones day after day for ten years, forging his fingers and palms into something exceptionally tough.

The other had originally been a clumsy exercise for monks carrying water and training their steps. It appeared plain and unremarkable, yet it had laid an extraordinarily solid foundation in his lower body and trained his breath to be long and steady.

The original owner's ten years of grueling cultivation had already established a solid foundation for cultivating the two ultimate techniques, One-Finger Zen and the Shadow-Following Leg.

Now, with the aid of that "golden finger," which could perceive the profound mysteries of martial arts manuals and analyze their subtle essentials, his comprehension and training naturally yielded twice the result with half the effort.

Though One-Finger Zen was renowned for its difficulty, he progressed swiftly and soon glimpsed its entrance.

The Shadow-Following Leg, meanwhile, was even easier to begin.

One-Finger Zen truly deserved its title as Shaolin's foremost finger technique. It was not an ordinary martial art that pursued elaborate moves and fierce force, but a supreme wondrous method of "entering martial arts through Zen and reaching the divine through a finger."

Its ability to defeat an enemy did not lie in "technique" or "strength," but in "qi" and "intent."

Thus, it possessed only three simple inherited forms, plain to the utmost degree. Yet the principles of Zen and martial arts contained within, along with the demands it placed upon one's cultivation of the heart and mind, were far beyond what ordinary martial arts could attain.

Take its first form, Lingering Mountain Seeks Zen. Its verse read: "Externally, depart from all appearances; internally, rest from all connections. When a thought arises, become aware; once aware, it vanishes."

Before the finger moved, intent came first. One observed an opponent as one observed the appearances of all living beings, defeating the enemy before they could act.

Wherever the mind stirred, Zen intent arose of its own accord. As his eyes opened and closed, his gaze became as clear as spring water. The trajectories of an enemy's moves and the flow of their breath were reflected as though in a bright mirror. Thus, he could discern their "flaws," defeat them with a single finger, and overcome them invisibly.

The cultivation foundation for One-Finger Zen, as analyzed by the golden finger, lay in opening the Hand Yangming Large Intestine Meridian among the twelve primary meridians, while also reaching the Yin Heel and Yang Heel vessels among the Eight Extraordinary Meridians.

Zhu Yingxiong practiced the first form according to its method. He stood with his feet apart, his left foot lightly touching the ground. As his breath sank and condensed, he felt a thread of coolness gradually arise at the Shining Sea Acupoint on his left heel, drifting upward along the Yin Heel vessel on the inner side of his leg.

At the same time, a gentle, warm current surged from the Shenmai Acupoint on his right heel, rising through the Yang Heel vessel.

The two currents, one cool and one warm, eventually converged and merged at the Bright Eyes Acupoint by the inner corners of his eyes.

His inner breath turned again, entering the Hand Yangming Large Intestine Meridian from the Welcome Fragrance Acupoint beside his nose. It rushed down along the outer side of his arm before finally gathering at the Shangyang Acupoint on the tip of his index finger.

At that moment, though his fingertip had not moved in the slightest, a Zen intent that condensed without being released, its intent moving before the strike, already lingered in the empty space three inches before it—seemingly there, yet seemingly not.

As he circulated his power again and again, his mind gradually merged with his breath, slowly immersing itself in the meditative state of "externally, departing from all appearances; internally, resting from all connections."

Once a full cycle of cultivation was complete, not only were his Hand Yangming Meridian and Yin and Yang Heel vessels washed like streams, becoming ever smoother and more solid, but even his cultivation of the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture advanced faintly alongside them. The qi mechanisms of the two resonated with one another, producing the marvelous effect of mutual nourishment and enhancement.

Though he had not deliberately pursued greater force in his fingers, it had increased markedly. Even the world before his eyes had become distinctly different. He could perceive in minute detail the path of falling leaves and the beating wings of flying insects.

Using the innate qi cultivated through the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture as the foundation to drive a Zen school supreme art like One-Finger Zen, which emphasized intent and qi, truly produced twice the result with half the effort. The two promoted one another.

Thereafter, Zhu Yingxiong devoted each day to these two supreme arts, calming his mind and focusing his breath as he poured every bit of the mentality he had brought from another world into the cultivation of Zen and martial arts.

More than a month passed in the blink of an eye as he cultivated with single-minded focus. His progress in One-Finger Zen and the Shadow-Following Leg was considerable, while his cultivation of the most fundamental Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture had become integrated into every moment of walking, sitting, lying down, and standing.

Last night, as he lay quietly on his bed circulating his power, he had suddenly heard a cold wind rise outside the window. It was followed by an unceasing rustling, fine and lingering.

When he pushed open the door this morning, a vast expanse of dazzling white greeted him. The ancient temple of a thousand years was clad in silver. The eaves of its halls lay beneath soft blankets of snow, while the branches of the ancient cypresses in the courtyard were adorned with crystalline blossoms. Far and near, high and low, all was flawless and pure.

The stone paths had been buried beneath fresh snow, leaving no trace behind. Between heaven and earth remained only a tranquil field of white. Even the distant temple bells seemed to have been filtered by the snow until they became clearer and more ethereal.

It was already the deep winter of the twelfth lunar month. Counting on his fingers, less than a month remained before the temple's year-end competition.

The crisp chill seeped into his lungs. As Zhu Yingxiong gazed upon the glasslike world before him, a surge of heroic spirit rose in his chest, sweeping away the gloom that days of quiet cultivation had left behind.

With a flicker, he swept into the snow-filled courtyard.

The tip of his foot touched the snow lightly, leaving only a faint, almost invisible mark. His figure had already drifted away like a wisp of blue smoke. The movement technique of the Shadow-Following Leg had been unleashed.

His body rose, dipped, and turned, not advancing in straight lines but following a singular rhythm. At times, he was like a startled swan stepping across the snow, suddenly here and then there.

At times, he was like willow catkins riding the wind, light as he spun and circled. As his feet rose and fell, there was no heavy crunch of snow beneath them, only the faint swish of his robes cutting through the wind.

Whenever the snowflakes swirling through the sky were about to touch him, they were quietly swept aside by the circulating force around his body.

This leg technique was already known for its nimble speed and unpredictable transformations. Displayed amid this boundless snowscape, it gained an even more unworldly elegance.

Wherever his figure passed, only a string of intermittent, graceful shallow marks remained upon the snow, soon gently concealed by fresh flakes, as though no one had ever disturbed the stillness of this world.

The longer he practiced, the more freely his heart and intent flowed. Before he realized it, he had circled the courtyard several times. His true qi circulated with the leg technique, lively and warm, intertwining with the chill snowflakes outside and bringing him an entirely new insight.

Only when a light sweat formed at his temples and heat steamed from his body, turning into wisps of white mist that merged with the wind and snow, did he let out a long cry and draw his stance to a close. Standing alone amid the boundless snow, he felt clear in body and mind, incomparably refreshed.

"Junior Brother, you are in high spirits." A figure approached over the snow. It was Yuan Cheng.

He wore a somewhat worn gray cotton cloak, with a few snowflakes still resting on his shoulders, but his face bore its usual warm and kindly smile. He stopped several paces away.

"Since choosing scriptures at the Scripture Repository, Junior Brother, you have secluded yourself to study these ultimate arts. By my reckoning, more than a month has passed. I told you before that once your cultivation had taken initial shape, I would certainly seek you out for a spar and see what you had learned."

"Today the snow is beautiful and our spirits are high. Rather than choose another day, why not take this opportunity to exchange a few moves here in the snow? Let this senior brother see how much progress you have made through your hard cultivation this past month." His tone was gentle and his words sincere, without the slightest hint of aggression.

Zhu Yingxiong smiled faintly at this. He had also wanted to test what he had learned lately and verify his insights through actual combat.

With cold, pure snow all around them and heaven and earth as their arena, there could be no better place for a spar.

He pressed his palms together in salute, his expression composed. "Since Senior Brother commands it, how could I refuse? This junior brother has only just begun his studies and would welcome Senior Brother's guidance."