I had no intention of entering the martial world.

Chapter 7 is not a technique.

Lu Chenzhou didn't sleep much that night.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Moonlight streamed in through the cracks in the window, casting a pale, white patch on the floor. Outside, the mountain wind howled, rattling the paper windows as if countless hands were slapping them.

The scene from earlier that day kept replaying in his mind: the man in blue crouching down, running his fingers across the moss, and bringing them to his nose. The movement was natural, with the focused concentration of a hunting dog.

Shadow Hall. Jin Dynasty Spy. Searching for the Green Destiny Sword.

These pieces of information swirled and collided in his mind, trying to piece together a complete picture. But he had too little information; the puzzle was missing too many pieces.

He turned over, his hand accidentally brushing against the record of his good deeds beside his pillow. The thick book was already more than half full. He randomly flipped to a page; it was last month's entry:

On the fifth day, in Liji Village, I helped the Zhou family dry their grain. They said, "Little Lu is kind-hearted," but I felt nothing. On the way back, I saw wildflowers blooming all over the mountains, which should have been pleasing to the eye, but my heart remained still.

Scroll back further:

"On the 25th, at Wangjiazhuang, I was relieved of the debt from the usurious loan. I paid two taels of silver and burned the contract. The little girl laughed, and I should have felt relieved, but I did not. Only the sword's aura stirred slightly, as if it enjoyed drinking blood."

He turned the pages, looking at the cold, emotionless words. It was like looking at someone else's life.

He turned to the last page, which contained today's entry, not yet finished. He picked up his pen and, by the moonlight, continued writing:

"On the fifteenth of April, on my way home, I encountered six men in black, whom I suspected were from the Jin Kingdom's Shadow Hall, searching for my sword. The man in blue barely managed to track me down. My master said that they would surely return. I asked to learn 'Spine Breaker'."

After finishing writing, he put down his pen. The ink gleamed dimly in the moonlight.

He suddenly remembered Jiang Wan.

He remembered the red string she tied to his wrist, and her words, "I'll remember for you." Where was she now? In Qingfeng Village? Or somewhere he didn't know, continuing her work with "Hidden Blade"?

If Yingtang approaches Zhongnan Mountain, will it also approach her?

As soon as this thought arose, it felt as if a breeze was blowing through the barren wasteland in my heart. It was faint, but it was definitely there.

He sat up, walked to the window, and pushed it open a crack.

A night breeze swept in, carrying the chill of the mountains and forests. In the distance, the roar of the waterfall could be faintly heard, unchanging and eternal.

He raised his wrist and looked at the faded red string. In the moonlight, it was almost the same color as his skin, and could hardly be noticed unless you looked closely.

But he knew it was there.

Like a fine scar etched into bone.

---

The next day, at dawn, before it was fully light.

Lu Chenzhou arrived at the waterfall right on time. Lu Jinghong was already there, with her back to him, facing the roaring water curtain, like a silent stone statue.

Hearing footsteps, Lu Jinghong turned around. He was empty-handed, holding neither a bamboo branch nor a wooden sword.

"We're not practicing moves today," he said. "We're practicing 'listening.'"

Lu Chenzhou was taken aback.

"Close your eyes," Lu Jinghong commanded.

Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes as instructed. Darkness enveloped him, but the world in his ears instantly became clear. The roar of the waterfall was broken down into countless layers—the outermost layer was the deafening sound of water crashing against rocks, then the muffled thud of water colliding with each other, then the delicate splashing of water droplets, and deepest still, there seemed to be an extremely faint hissing sound of water flowing through the crevices of the rocks.

"Did you hear that?" Lu Jinghong's voice rang in my ears, very close. "The sound of water, the sound of wind, the sound of birds flapping their wings ten miles away, the sound of insects crawling underground... these are all 'momentum'."

Lu Chenzhou listened intently. At first, there was only a cacophony of sounds, but gradually, the sounds began to separate and become more orderly. He could "hear" changes in wind direction, the movement of birds on distant treetops, and even the subtle vibrations of an earthworm slowly burrowing through the soil beneath his feet.

"To kill, you must first learn to listen," Lu Jinghong said. "Listen to your opponent's breathing, listen to his heartbeat, listen to the rhythm of his muscles tensing and relaxing. These sounds will tell you when he will move, where he will move, and how much force he will use."

He paused.

"The key to the 'Spine Breaker' technique is not force, but timing. You must strike at the exact moment when your opponent's old force is exhausted and their new force has not yet been generated. If you strike too early, they can still change their move; if you strike too late, their force has already been unleashed. Therefore, you must learn to listen, to hear that 'moment'."

Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes, trying hard to capture that feeling. But it was too difficult. There were too many sounds, too many noises, like a tangled mess.

"Calm your mind." Lu Jinghong's voice was calm and even. "Treat yourself as part of that sound. Your breath, your heartbeat, the sound of your blood flowing... listen to it, merge with it."

Time passed little by little.

The waterfall still roars, and the mountains and forests are still bustling.

Lu Chenzhou stood there, like a stone, merging into this ocean of sound. At first, he could still feel his own presence, but gradually, the boundaries blurred. He seemed to become a part of the wind, a part of the water, a part of the mountains and forests.

Then, he "heard" it.

It wasn't a specific sound, but a rhythm. The rhythm of a waterfall cascading down, the rhythm of the wind blowing through the treetops, even the rhythm of distant clouds slowly moving. These rhythms intertwined, forming a vast, silent net.

At a certain node of this network, a discordant "noise" appeared.

It was very faint, but it definitely existed. Like the extremely subtle vibrato of a taut string just before it snapped.

Lu Chenzhou suddenly opened his eyes.

Almost simultaneously, Lu Jinghong made a move.

Without warning or any preparatory stance, he suddenly released his grip like a fully drawn bow, took a step forward, and slashed diagonally at Lu Chenzhou's neck with his right palm like a knife!

Fast! Too fast!

Lu Chenzhou didn't even see the movement clearly; he only felt a sharp gust of wind rush towards him. But he didn't dodge—the "noise" he had just "heard" was right there!

He twisted his waist, advancing instead of retreating, lowering his left shoulder to dodge the palm strike, and then thrusting his right hand, fingers together like a sword, towards Lu Jinghong's ribs with lightning speed!

That's the "Heart-Piercing Strike" from the "Seven Killings Style," but it's not done with the palm, it's done with the fingers. The force penetrates the fingertips, striking directly at the vital point.

A hint of surprise flashed in Lu Jinghong's eyes, but his movements remained perfectly composed. He flipped his left hand, grabbing Lu Chenzhou's wrist, while simultaneously his right foot silently lifted up, kicking towards the back of Lu Chenzhou's supporting leg's knee!

If that kick landed properly, the kneecap would shatter instantly.

Lu Chenzhou "heard" it. Not with his ears, but with the skin of his entire body, with every single hair. He felt the subtle changes in the airflow, felt the slight tremor of the ground beneath Lu Jinghong's feet as his center of gravity shifted.

In that "moment," he made an extremely risky move.

His body suddenly leaned backward as if he was about to fall, but his left toe touched the ground, and he slid away like a leaf blown by the wind, narrowly avoiding the kick.

Then, just as his body was about to touch the ground, he exerted force from his waist and abdomen, springing up like a spring, and his right hand, with its five fingers forming a claw, fiercely grabbed at Lu Jinghong's lower back!

That's the Shenshu acupoint; a severe blow there can cause paralysis.

Lu Jinghong finally smiled.

It wasn't the usual lazy, mocking smile, but a genuine, approving one.

He didn't turn around, but instead slammed his left elbow backward, striking Lu Chenzhou's wrist precisely. The force wasn't great, but it broke Lu's grip. At the same time, he lightly touched the ground with the toe of his right foot, and like a weightless feather, he floated back three zhang.

"Alright." He stopped, clapped his hands, and said, "You've learned 'Spine Breaker'."

Lu Chenzhou stood there, slightly out of breath. The series of movements he had just performed, seemingly simple, had actually exhausted all his mental and physical strength. His wrist throbbed with pain from the impact, but he felt a strange sense of exhilaration.

It's like something has finally been connected.

"Remember that feeling." Lu Jinghong walked over and looked at him. "Not the techniques, but that state of 'listening.' When facing an enemy, forget your eyes, use your ears, your skin, every inch of your body to sense. Only then can you grasp that 'moment.'"

Lu Chenzhou nodded. He closed his eyes, trying to relive that state, but soon found that the mysterious feeling receded like the tide, leaving only a vague imprint.

"Practice more," Lu Jinghong said, "practice until it becomes second nature."

He paused, looking down the mountain. The fog was dissipating, revealing the distant, layered, bluish-green mountains.

"The people from Yingtang should be arriving soon," he said softly. "When they arrive, use what you just learned to see them off."

Lu Chenzhou followed his gaze.

The mountains and forests were quiet, with wisps of morning mist rising.

But he knew that something was quietly approaching beneath that silence.

Like a net slowly closing in.