One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Several more height markers were carved into the rock face. Compared to the initial baseline, Nie Lingfeng had indeed grown taller. Although still thin, he was no longer the frail, bean sprout he once was. His clothes, which used to hang on like sacks of flour, now fit him much better, even feeling slightly tight in some places (like his shoulders). His pants, which always slipped down, finally stayed properly on his waist, no longer requiring him to hold them up constantly.

The progress of his Wind God Leg technique is the most remarkable. He has mastered "Catching the Wind and Shadows" to near completion. When he uses it at full power, he can create a noticeable gust of wind on the smooth stone surface, and his movements are as fast as a cat. He can even take seven steps in a row on the surface of a cold pool without sinking, thanks to a brief burst of power. Although he often falls into the water awkwardly on the last step, it is still a qualitative leap.

The first technique of the Six Arts of Frostbite, "A Glimpse of Startling Cold," was finally mastered at dusk after a period of arduous practice. When he channeled his accumulated icy true energy into the Snow Drinking Blade and swung it towards the pool—

laugh!

A faint, crescent-shaped, pale blue blade of energy actually flew out of the blade! Although it only flew less than a foot before dissipating, a thin, transparent layer of ice condensed on the small patch of water it passed over!

"Success!" Nie Lingfeng gripped the knife, his hands trembling with excitement. Although its power was not as great as a water gun, it was of great significance—it meant that his internal energy had initially reached the threshold of external projection and was beginning to truly resonate with the attributes of the Snow Drinking Blade.

The palm wind of the Cloud-Dispelling Palm can now shake off large patches of glowing moss on the rock wall, and the palm force can leave shallow palm prints on the stone surface; the fist force of the Heavenly Frost Fist can leave clear fist marks with white frost on the hard rock surface, and the coldness seeps into the stone an inch deep.

The Ice Heart Technique has steadily progressed to the fifth level. Now, with just one full cycle, one can quickly enter a deep meditative state of "heart as clear as ice," not only significantly accelerating the accumulation of internal energy but also making one's perception of one's own true energy and the surrounding environment more acute and clear.

In his spare time, exploring labyrinths and battling boredom became his daily routine. He carved inscriptions on the rock walls, the content of which varied widely:

"Today's findings: The third fork in the road in Tandong District leads to a dead end, but there is a strange echo. It is marked as 'Echo Wall'."

"Breakthrough to the sixth level of the Ice Heart Technique! Divine sense perception range expanded to three zhang!"

"Ugh, I'm going crazy wanting an ice-cold Coke! And I also want hot pot! Spicy hot pot! Tomato hot pot! Mushroom hot pot!"

"The eleventh system exploration, proceeding approximately six hours (estimated) towards the 'earthquake' location, encountered three forks in the road and seven suspected loops, but still has not found an exit. Just how big is this place? Does it really move on its own?"

Finding a way out became a weekly routine. With his increasingly refined Wind God Leg technique, he swiftly traversed the complex cave passages, carving a simple arrow mark on the rock wall at each crucial fork in the path using the sword energy of the Six Secrets of Frost. He even attempted to circulate the Heavenly Frost Fist, using changes in the direction of the cold air currents to deduce the main direction of airflow and search for possible exits…

But the strangeness of Lingyun Cave was beyond his comprehension. Countless times, when he had explored in a certain direction for a long time and was full of hope that he had made a discovery, after turning a few corners, the familiar arrow mark he had carved himself would come into cold view on the rock wall—he had returned to a familiar area, or a loop node with a similar structure but definitely not the original location.

"This place... could it really be alive? Moving and changing on its own?" Nie Lingfeng stood in a grotto marked with three different dates, yet with vastly different structures, tapping the cold rock wall with his fingers, his brow furrowed. "Or... is there some kind of ancient formation distorting spatial perception?"

There is no answer, only eternal deep blue and silence.

Nie Lingfeng stood in the middle of the cold pool, the water only reaching his ankles.

He closed his eyes, focused his mind, and his aura became as calm as water, seemingly merging with the cool pool beneath his feet. Five years had passed, and his childishness had completely faded. His figure was now as upright as a pine tree. Although he still retained the leanness of a young man, his muscles were smooth and firm, containing explosive power.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, gleaming like lightning!

His movements were like a sudden gust of wind! His feet touched the water's surface, creating only tiny ripples, yet his figure had already darted five zhang away like a ghost, so fast that it left a faint afterimage in the dark blue light—the Wind God Leg technique, "Catching the Wind and Shadows," had reached its pinnacle!

He twisted and flipped in mid-air, his right palm striking down into the pool below! The palm strike, combining strength and gentleness, caused the calm surface of the pool to explode with a roar, sending a column of water soaring into the sky. The water was then dispersed in mid-air by the force of the palm strike, transforming into a sky full of shimmering mist, like a churning sea of ​​clouds—the Cloud-Dispelling Palm "Flowing Water and Moving Clouds," where movement is controlled at will, and clouds arise spontaneously!

The moment his feet touched the ground, without pausing, his left fist slammed into the hard rock wall beside him like a cannonball! Even before the fist arrived, a chilling aura rushed towards him. The instant his fist touched the rock, a series of soft "crack" sounds rang out, and a layer of crystalline frost, about an inch thick, suddenly spread out from the fist's surface to a radius of a foot. The cold air penetrated the stone—the Heavenly Frost Fist, "Frost Condensation Reveals Clumsiness," was bone-chilling, freezing water into ice!

Finally, draw your sword!

Before the dragon's roar of the Snow Drinking Blade had even faded completely, the temperature in the entire cave had plummeted! The blade gleamed with a deep blue light, like ancient ice, and Nie Lingfeng gripped it with both hands, slashing forward with utmost simplicity! There were no fancy moves, only a perfectly condensed, crescent-shaped, pale blue blade aura that shot through the air!

Wherever the blade's energy passed, the air emitted a faint "crackling" sound as it froze, and the surface of the icy pool it touched—

Click-clack!

Centered on the trajectory of the blade's energy, the surface of the pool within a radius of three zhang instantly froze into a thick, smooth, mirror-like sheet of ice! A chill permeated the air, and even the rock walls were covered in white frost!

The first of the Six Secrets of Aohan, "A Glimpse of Startling Cold," freezes three zhang (approximately 10 meters) of ice, reaching its peak!

Nie Lingfeng slowly sheathed his sword. The chilling aura of the Snow Drinking Blade gradually subsided, and his exhaled breath condensed into a long white streak in the air.

Five years.

He practiced asceticism tirelessly for more than 1,800 days and nights.

Wind God Leg, Cloud Dispelling Palm, Heavenly Frost Fist, Six Secrets of Arrogance and Cold, Ice Heart Technique—all have been mastered! Although there is still a world of difference between him and the martial arts legends like Nie Feng, he is by no means an ordinary person in this world.

He looked at his clear reflection on the ice: a boy of about fifteen or sixteen, with clear features, a straight nose, and sharp, deep eyes. He had shed the roundness of childhood and gained a more resolute and composed demeanor. He was no longer the little kid who had struggled to catch a fish.

"The foundation is solid." He muttered to himself, his gaze falling on an ordinary stone casually placed to the side. "Next... it's time to try to comprehend the most profound 'Creation Blade'."

The way he cultivated the sword was completely different from any of the martial arts he had practiced before—it had no fixed moves or diagrams, no detailed internal energy circulation routes, and its inheritance consisted more of mysterious descriptions of artistic conceptions and scattered insights.

"The knife is not a knife, but the intention is the knife. If there is a knife in your heart, then grass, trees, bamboo, rocks, flying flowers, and falling leaves can all become knives. There are no moves or styles, the moves come from the heart, and the knife arrives when the intention is there."

Nie Lingfeng began a new period of cultivation. He put down the Snow Drinking Blade that had been with him for five years, picked up a common pebble found by the pool, sat cross-legged, and placed it in his palm.

He closed his eyes, no longer using his eyes to see, but using his heart to "feel".

Feel the shape, weight, and texture of the stone; feel every subtle pattern formed by water erosion over millions of years; feel the tranquility and resilience of the earth hidden beneath its cold exterior.

"Everything can be a knife..." He murmured the words from the inheritance, slowly relaxing his consciousness and trying to establish a connection with the stone in his palm that transcended physics and was based on his mind.

On the first day, they gained nothing except for the icy stones.

On the tenth day, when he immersed his mind in the stone for a long time, he would occasionally experience a very faint, almost illusory, sense of "resonance".

In the third month, during a moment of mental clarity, he unconsciously gripped a stone and casually drew a line on the rock face beside him—

laugh.

A very faint sound, unlike the sound of ordinary scraping, was heard.

On the rock face, a shallow, almost invisible white scratch appeared. But Nie Lingfeng keenly noticed that the edges of the scratch were unusually smooth and even, an effect that could not be achieved from the rough surface of the rock.

A thought struck him as he carefully recalled the mysterious feeling he had just experienced—it seemed that at the moment he made the cut, the thought of "slashing" had indeed flashed through his mind, and the stone in his palm seemed to have truly become an extension of the blade.

"Sword intent...is this the prototype of sword intent?" A spark of hope ignited in his eyes.

However, after reaching that threshold, his understanding of the Creation Blade stalled for a long time.

Nie Lingfeng could clearly feel that he was only a thin layer of paper away from truly comprehending the realm of "all things are knives," but this layer of paper was extremely tough, and no matter how he tried, meditated, or comprehended it, he could never break through it.

He tried every method he could think of:

For three days and three nights straight, I sat by the cold pool, my eyes fixed on the murmuring water, trying to understand the meaning of "flowing water is like a knife"—its intangible yet penetrating power—from its ability to cut through stone. My eyes grew dry and sore, and in the end, I only realized that "my eyes need more rest."

For seven days, I faced the wall, my consciousness repeatedly scanning every inch of its texture, trying to perceive the steadiness and sharpness of "a knife within a stone" from its thickness and hardness. My back ached from sitting for so long, and my conclusion was, "This stone is truly hard."

He even imitated the movements of fish swimming in a cold pond, slowly waving his arms in the water, thinking that the trajectory of a fish's tail swaying and breaking through the water might contain some kind of agile "fish-swimming knife technique." As a result, he almost got a cramp and choked on some water.

Frustration and anxiety began to fester. The words he carved on the rock face also carried his emotions:

"Senior Nie Feng! Isn't your 'Creating a Blade' technique a bit too mystical? What does 'If you have a blade in your heart, everything is a blade' mean? I really want a blade right now, but this broken stone is still just a stone! Why won't it turn into a blade?!"

"Can't you give me a hint? Even just a glance in my dreams? Talking to this rock every day, I'm practically turning into a stone myself!"

"Am I just not talented enough? Or is my method wrong? How exactly do you 'feel' and 'comprehend' this thing?!"

The rock face remained silent for ages, with only the faint blue light of the moss shimmering quietly, as if mocking his impatience.

One day, while Nie Lingfeng was baking dinner, he became so engrossed in thinking about the creation of the knife that the flames controlled by his fingertips burned too fiercely. When he came to his senses, half of the plump silver fish had turned into a charred lump, emitting a burnt smell.

He looked at the half-burnt fish with frustration, feeling sorry for the food, when a sudden, absurd yet revelatory thought struck him like lightning in the darkness.

"Fire..." He stared blankly down at the gentle, leaping orange-red flame that had reignited at his fingertips. "Could flame... also be a kind of 'sword'?"

Fire, formless and intangible, is violent and intense, capable of burning everything. Its destructive power seems to take a different path compared to a sharp blade, but its essence is still "destruction" and "cutting".

He tried to focus his mind on the flame at his fingertips, imagining "shaping" it into the shape of a knife, condensing and sharpening the "intention" of heat and destruction.

It failed. The flame remains a flame, agile and leaping, scattered and formless, refusing to be molded into a fixed shape; it follows the physical laws of combustion and diffusion.

But that thought, like a seed, had already been deeply planted in his heart.

"Perhaps... the intent of the sword is not just 'sharpness'? The intensity of fire, the gentleness of water, the weight of stone, the speed of wind... can all be transformed into 'intent'?" He pondered, no longer in a hurry to achieve success, but began to feel the unique "attributes" and "rhythms" of everything around him with a more open mind.