Immortal Force, the wind howled outside and the rain came down hard

For a martial artist, taking the Spirit Yang Gallbladder was a troublesome process.

First, he needed a certain foundation in training his internal organs. After swallowing it, he also had to soak in a wine vat and have a martial artist who had mastered Eating Makes an Immortal assist him.

Chu Tianshu skipped dinner that day to empty his stomach. After sleeping through the night, he skipped breakfast the next morning as well. Only then did he return to the cellar and swallow the Spirit Yang Gallbladder.

He took off his shirt and sat cross-legged in a wine vat in the cellar. Watching the wine rise to his collarbones, he felt as though the smell alone would get him drunk.

Zhong Jinqiu walked slowly around the vat, pressing his palm against it again and again.

His palms struck the outer wall of the vat without making a sound.

Yet every time a palm landed, Chu Tianshu felt a pressure in his chest, and countless tiny bubbles inexplicably appeared in the wine.

The pressure built layer upon layer. In the end, Chu Tianshu even felt the blood in every limb and bone surging toward the organs in his chest and abdomen.

His limbs felt insubstantial and empty. Only his chest was tight and swollen, its heat surging, as though a thick, swelling mass of flame filled his chest cavity while the rest of his body was merely smoke trailing from the fire.

Chu Tianshu hated pain, but he was not afraid of it. He had long grown used to the pain lingering from his dreams.

But now, even his fingers trembled uncontrollably, and his face twitched. The complex sensation tormented him until he clenched his teeth.

The wine had begun with tiny bubbles, but now it rolled and gurgled as though it were boiling.

It had not actually reached a boil, but it was indeed much hotter than before. It had been icy cold at first, but now it was slightly warmer than body temperature.

After a full four hours, Zhong Jinqiu finally stopped, and Chu Tianshu caught his breath. His vision darkened a little, and he leaned his head back against the rim of the vat.

"Is that it?"

Sweat covered Zhong Jinqiu's face as he poured himself a bowl of water. "The Spirit Yang Gallbladder has dissolved, and its medicinal power permeates your internal organs. The heart and lungs are foremost among them, so you could say ninety percent of the medicinal power is in your heart and lungs."

"You won't need to soak in the wine vat again, but you should practice more fist arts from the Eating Makes an Immortal path and use your internal organs to issue force and refine the medicinal power yourself."

Chu Tianshu climbed out and stepped into a neighboring vat of clean water, letting out a breath.

The wine here was not alcohol; it would not evaporate on its own.

If he did not wash it off quickly, the stench of wine on his body afterward would be unimaginable.

"But my fist art only uses force to stimulate the stomach and intestines. I don't know how to issue force with my internal organs."

Zhong Jinqiu was taken aback. "Is it an incomplete manual? It develops the stomach and intestines so well, yet it has no section on issuing force with the internal organs. What a pity."

Chu Tianshu had originally planned to wait until he had gathered more evil spirit materials before thinking about a new fist manual.

But he had not expected to come across something as good as the Spirit Yang Gallbladder.

He said, "I'll write the fist manual out from memory later. Master Zhong, could you take a look and give me some pointers?"

Shopkeeper Ma looked at his old friend.

Zhong Jinqiu pondered for a moment, then nodded.

Two hours later, Chu Tianshu, now dressed in fresh clothes, was writing furiously in his room.

Zhong Jinqiu read through the pages of the fist manual as he finished them, his expression growing stranger by the moment.

"Tongbei Fist supposedly originated with the White Ape Patriarch Situ Xuankong of Mount Emei during the Warring States period. I always thought that was a far-fetched claim. Tongbei Fist as it actually took shape should be no older than the Ming Dynasty."

"But this Tongbei Fist manual of yours is far too archaic in style. The three paths haven't even been separated, yet it's remarkably effective. At the very least, it has the style of an ancient fist art from the Tang Dynasty."

Zhong Jinqiu clicked his tongue in wonder. "Having seen this fist manual of yours, even handing over all my own fist manuals to you would be worthwhile. But..."

Chu Tianshu was writing the last half-page. Hearing that, he looked up. "But what?"

"Since you practice this kind of fist art, which doesn't yet draw a clear distinction between sinew strength and the internal organs, there's no need to rush into learning my fist art."

Zhong Jinqiu thought it over, then said, "I can teach you a few tricks that will let you issue force with your internal organs using the foundation you've already built with this fist art."

"In any case, your internal organs contain a great deal of medicinal power. For now, you don't need to learn the steps for nurturing and refining them. Just focus on learning the tricks to issuing force. As the medicinal power is absorbed, it will naturally have the effect of nurturing and refining them."

"Once the medicinal power has been fully absorbed, you can go back and learn the bulk of the material on nurturing and training the internal organs."

Chu Tianshu's eyes lit up.

Zhong Jinqiu's proposal amounted to a small optimization of the Tongbei Fist manual.

It was not an optimization through deduction, but one through combination, adding knowledge from outside sources.

That was right. He had no evil spirit materials for the token to use in deduction, but an old martial artist with profound skill and abundant experience could himself serve somewhat like the token.

"Good, good, good!"

Chu Tianshu said, "Do we need a dedicated training ground or training equipment?"

Zhong Jinqiu shook his head. "You're only learning to issue force with your internal organs, and that doesn't require much movement."

"Eating Makes an Immortal has the word 'immortal' in its name not just because one can dine on wind and drink dew, or recognize poison at the sight of a plant. It's also because a martial artist who has reached this realm can strike with force as elusive and gentle as an immortal."

Zhong Jinqiu held out a hand, his five fingers naturally spread slightly apart. "For example, how many ways do you think this hand can issue force?"

Without hesitation, Chu Tianshu said, "Thrust forward with the palm, smash down with the heel, turn the palm to chop, or hook the fingers to tear."

Zhong Jinqiu smiled. He lowered his hand and brushed it lightly across the tabletop.

Scrape!

A thick layer of wood shavings came off the tabletop, as though someone had dug into it with all their strength using an iron shovel.

Chu Tianshu stared at the tabletop in surprise. This made no scientific sense.

A human hand was too thick. Even its edge could not possibly be as thin as a blade or an iron shovel.

So for a human hand to achieve the effect of a cutting strike, it had to swing at high speed.

Zhong Jinqiu had not swung his palm quickly just now, and he had brushed it so lightly. How could it have had the effect of a blade?

"That's why the training of sinews and bones centers on gathering and dispersing, while the training of the internal organs is called 'true.'"

Zhong Jinqiu said, "Human sinews and bones are coarse by nature. Even if you train them to greater strength, they'll only become tougher, or even thicker, not finer."

"The internal organs are different. Every point in them is a hub of Qi and blood. Move one point and the whole body moves. Only by training the internal organs can you refine your force-issuing technique down to the finest detail."

"Driven by the same amount of force, a strike can be like a hundred needles thrusting at once, inflicting sharper, deeper damage. The direction of the force can also be controlled as easily as moving an arm or a finger, following your will and shifting instantly between hard and soft."

Zhong Jinqiu raised his hand again and flicked a finger at the water jug.

The spot his finger struck on the thick, barrel-shaped white porcelain jug was completely undamaged.

On the other side, however, a small hole burst open, sending a fingernail-sized chip of porcelain flying.

"This is Immortal Force!"

Sometimes, when a person had a stomachache, the intense pain came from only one small point, yet it hurt so much that the whole body seemed to crumple and knot up.

That was moving one point and setting the whole body in motion.

Conversely, if one could master the movement of every point in the internal organs, one could influence the whole body and coordinate it properly to inflict more precise damage.

Issuing force with the internal organs did not mean actually using them to strike someone. Rather, it meant making them capable of acting as a trigger.

"So that's how it works."

Chu Tianshu picked up the porcelain chip.

He roughly understood the principle. Next, he would use his experience honing sinew strength as a point of comparison, learn Master Zhong's established methods, and train his body toward the state described in the theory.

Train external force inwardly, issue internal force outwardly!

Shopkeeper Ma knocked and entered. "Little Chu, the town chief has sent someone to invite us to dinner again. I'm not going anyway. Are you going today?"

Chu Tianshu was playing with the porcelain chip, keenly interested and eager to start practicing on the spot. He shook his head. "I have important things to do. Who has time to eat at his house every day?"

Shopkeeper Ma laughed. "I guessed you wouldn't go either. I'll send him away, then."

The person the town chief had sent left the restaurant and drove the carriage back to report.

When the town chief saw him return with an empty carriage, he looked a little disappointed.

The people from the restaurant were not the only ones he had invited today. He had naturally invited Adjutant Zhou as well.

But Adjutant Zhou had not come either.

The town chief had hoped to ask Adjutant Zhou about the old master's preferences before visiting his residence. Better still, he wanted to bring Chu Tianshu and the others along; having more people would make him look more important.

But for several days afterward, he sent invitations every day, and no one came.

Besides the opera troupe and the soldiers, carriages arrived at the old master's residence every day. They were probably all bringing fine things sent by the commander. It seemed the move was not yet complete.

They would have to wait until the old master was settled in comfortably. Adjutant Zhou and the others would probably have to keep him company here for ten days to half a month at the very least.

The town chief hesitated, then could only console himself that there was still plenty of time and no need to rush.

Chu Tianshu, who had turned down the various invitations, had adjusted his routine. Every morning he practiced stance work, and every afternoon he practiced the technique of issuing force with his internal organs.

Even for the grand opera on the seventh day, he watched for only four hours before returning to rest.

Fortunately, he had left early. When he got up on the morning of the eighth day, he saw rain flying past his window and heard that it had begun in the latter half of the previous night.

The autumn rain was icy cold. It fell on and off all day, and the temperature dropped considerably.

By evening, the sky was already as dark as it usually was at midnight.

The restaurant closed early that day, shutting its doors and lighting its lamps.

Chu Tianshu and the two old men gathered in the main hall for dinner. They had long since changed the way they addressed one another.

"Uncle Zhong, look at this move of mine."

Chu Tianshu had ordered a whole chicken especially for today. Holding his chopsticks, he tapped it lightly.

He tapped the plump roast chicken from one end to the other. Its skin remained intact, but it went limp, its edges draping over the sides of the plate like a piece of pork hock stewed until it fell apart.

Zhong Jinqiu remarked evenly, "It took you eighteen taps to break the chicken bones. Another day, I'll get you a whole sheep, and you can try tapping its bones."

Chu Tianshu said, "Chopsticks definitely won't do for that. I'll use my hands when the time comes."

Shopkeeper Ma scolded him with a laugh. "All right, stop wasting food. Why not tap something else..."

Bang, bang, bang, bang!!!

A furious pounding on the door interrupted the conversation.

"Brother Chu, Uncle Ma!"

Chu Tianshu recognized Meng Shuangjiang's voice and got up to draw the door bolt.

Meng Shuangjiang had not even brought an umbrella. Rain had soaked him through, making him look as though he had just been pulled from a river, and he stumbled over the threshold as he rushed in.

Chu Tianshu hurriedly caught him. Meng Shuangjiang cried in a panic, "Xiaobao is missing! Please help me find him!"

"What?!"

Chu Tianshu frowned. "You took Xiaobao out in rain this heavy?"

Though he had managed to be patient and keep training these past few days, the strange feeling in his heart had led him to meet occasionally with some friends in town and remind them to be careful.

Meng Shuangjiang cried, "No! Xiaobao was at home, and then he suddenly disappeared. We can't find him anywhere. My father was frantic and grabbed me, telling me to find Uncle Ma."

Shopkeeper Ma's face grew grave. He strode forward and plucked a strand of Meng Shuangjiang's hair.

Zhong Jinqiu had already used his chopsticks to draw a slightly irregular square on the table.

At a glance, Chu Tianshu recalled the outline of the town as he had seen it from the mountain. It was a close match.

"Weary bird, lost forest; old father, seeking son; scattered traces of flame, alight where he has gone..."

Shopkeeper Ma chanted the incantation, deftly tying the hair into a knot. It caught fire in midair like a stick figure and drifted toward the table.

The flame swayed twice in the air, then landed at a spot inside the square, leaving a tiny black mark.

Chu Tianshu quickly searched his memory. "Where in town does that spot correspond to?"

Shopkeeper Ma and Zhong Jinqiu both looked grim.

Zhong Jinqiu murmured, "It can't be a coincidence... sure enough, he was holding in no good fart."

Meng Shuangjiang also seemed to recognize the place. He cried out, "That's Commander Xu's residence! How could Xiaobao be there?!"

Chu Tianshu suddenly looked toward the door.

Outside, the wind howled and the rain slanted down.

The soaked cloth of the wine shop banner snapped and cracked in the wind, like a peal of thunder.

Adjutant Zhou stood holding a large yellow paper umbrella in one hand, his stance steady as a rock. Expressionless, he stared at the back of Meng Shuangjiang's head.

Meng Shuangjiang turned around, his face deathly pale.