Huang Rong from The Return of the Condor Heroes: Guo'er, calm down.

Now that Yang Guo had decided on that shady "honey trap" scheme, he stopped worrying about it. He was the kind of person who would act on any idea he had, but before doing so, he had to make sure he got all the immediate benefits.

He turned his gaze back to the stone tablet that had been broken in two.

Before, I was only focused on digging for treasures, and later I was busy practicing the One-Finger Divine Skill.

At the time, the words on the stone tablet were so piercing that I didn't bother to study them carefully.

Now is the perfect time to take a closer look.

The words on this stone tablet were written by Wang Chongyang himself, using only his fingers.

"The Quanzhen Sect's forbidden area; trespassers will be executed."

The first large character on this stone tablet is the character "全" (quan, meaning complete/whole).

Yang Guo squinted, trying to discern the strokes of the character "全" (quan, meaning "complete"). But the moment he focused, that familiar stinging sensation returned. His eyes felt like they'd been pricked by fine needles, unbearably sore, and tears instantly welled up.

"This old Taoist priest, even after being dead for so many years, still left behind such offensive writing?"

Yang Guo rubbed his eyes, and his competitive spirit resurfaced.

"I refuse to believe it! If I can't see it, can't I at least touch it?"

Following the same method, he extended his right index finger and probed into the groove of the character "全".

Beneath his fingertips was a smooth, rounded touch. Yang Guo closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the strokes of the brush.

The beginning stroke is like a falling stone, the middle stroke is like a swimming dragon, and the ending stroke is like a broken cliff.

He traced the lines back and forth in the groove several times, finding it incredibly smooth, as if a current of air was guiding his fingers, making him involuntarily follow the movement of the brush.

"I see, this brush technique isn't that difficult after all."

Yang Guo was secretly delighted, feeling that he had grasped the essence of the word.

He casually broke off a dry branch from beside him and walked to an open space. The ground was soft yellow soil, perfect for practicing calligraphy.

"Watch me show you what I've got."

With a flick of his wrist, Yang Guo wrote the character "全" (quan, meaning complete) on the yellow earth, following the path his finger had traced on the stone tablet.

After finishing writing in one stroke, Yang Guo looked down expectantly.

"..."

The words on the ground were crooked and twisted. Although it was barely recognizable as the character "全" (quan), the strokes were soft and weak, like earthworms crawling across the surface. They had none of the powerful and vigorous strokes found on the stone tablet.

It lacks both imposing presence and even basic resemblance.

This is the level of scribbles Yang Guo usually produces.

"This is weird."

Yang Guo scratched his head, threw the branch aside, and ran back to the stone tablet.

He then stretched out his finger and ran it through the groove.

The smooth feeling is still there, the momentum is still there. As the fingertips pass over the object, one can almost feel the lingering warmth and strength left by Wang Chongyang's fingers back then.

"That doesn't make sense. I clearly remembered everything."

Yang Guo picked up the twig again and wrote it on the ground once more.

She still looks the same ugly thing.

He didn't believe it, so he ran back to touch it, and then came back to write it down.

This was repeated seven or eight times.

He had drawn all over the yellow soil on the ground, making up all sorts of ugly characters for "complete," each one seemingly mocking his own incompetence.

Yang Guo slammed the branch into the ground, sat cross-legged in front of the stone tablet, and frowned.

"The feel is right, so why does it all change as soon as it's removed from the stone tablet?"

Although he was intelligent, he was now in a bit of a predicament. It was like watching someone wield a large knife; it looked simple, but when he tried it himself, he almost chopped off his own foot.

"It seems I underestimated the complexity of the situation."

Yang Guo looked at the character "全" (quan, meaning complete/whole) deeply embedded in the stone and seemed to understand something.

"This is not just words, this is energy."

"When I touched the stone tablet, I was following the energy left by Wang Chongyang, passively being led by him. When I tried to write it myself, without that energy guiding me, I naturally ended up drawing a dog instead of a tiger."

Having figured this out, Yang Guo was no longer impatient.

Since the brain can't remember, let the body remember.

If once isn't enough, then try ten times, or even a hundred times.

The simplest method is often the most effective.

Yang Guo took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and once again placed his finger into the starting point of the character "全" (quan).

This time, he stopped thinking about the style of the writing or the momentum.

He only focuses on one thing: how the muscles in the fingers exert force, how the wrist rotates, and how internal energy flows through the meridians to reach the fingertips.

a bit.

Two times.

Three times.

……

As the sun rose higher, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, dappling Yang Guo's body.

He was like a tireless fool, his fingers constantly tracing patterns on the stone tablet.

One hundred times.

Two hundred times.

His fingers were burning hot from rubbing, and his fingertips were even slightly red, but Yang Guo showed no sign of stopping.

He was looking for that feeling.

That feeling of "meaning" being etched into one's very bones.

Gradually, he no longer needed to consciously think about where to go next. His fingers seemed to have their own consciousness, dancing in the grooves, each turn and pause becoming smooth and flowing, without the slightest hesitation.

Even the internal energy of his One-Finger Divine Skill began to surge uncontrollably through his meridians with the movement of his fingers.

With each stroke, a surge of heat rises within the dantian.

"Now!"

Yang Guo suddenly opened his eyes, a glint of light flashing in them.

He didn't take the branch.

Instead, he used his finger as a pen, turned around abruptly, and slashed fiercely at the empty space in front of him.

"laugh!"

The fingertip sliced ​​through the air, producing an extremely faint, sharp whistling sound.

Yang Guo's movements never stopped, his steps slightly shifting, his body moving with his fingers, and his fingers following his will.

The "人" radical, with its extended strokes, resembles an eagle spreading its wings, exuding a wild and unrestrained spirit.

The character "王" (Wang) at the bottom is upright and righteous, like Mount Tai pressing down, with a domineering presence hidden within its composure.

The final stroke, a long horizontal line, signifies the establishment of order and stability.

Yang Guo felt a surge of pent-up emotions in his chest release with this single finger strike, a feeling of exhilaration.

He looked down.

Although he wrote in the void and left no trace, he could feel that for a moment, he seemed to have grasped something.

He quickly picked up the branch and closed his eyes to ponder for a moment.

In his mind, the word "complete" was no longer a static mark, but a small figure dancing, holding a long sword and practicing a set of exquisite moves.

"rise!"

Yang Guo flicked his wrist, and the tree branch touched the yellow earth.

This time, he did not hesitate at all.

The brushstrokes flowed like dragons and snakes.

The branch scraped across the ground, kicking up a fine cloud of dust.

In the blink of an eye, a powerful and vigorous character "全" appeared on the ground.

Although it is far inferior to the characters on the stone tablet, the characters are extremely stable in structure and sharp in stroke, and they even faintly reveal a sharpness that makes people dare not look directly at them.

What surprised Yang Guo even more was that after he finished writing the words, the tree branch suddenly split in half with a "crack".

That's the result of being unable to withstand the infusion of internal energy.

"It's done!"

Yang Guo looked at the words on the ground and rubbed his hands together excitedly.

"I see! I see!"

"This isn't writing; it's clearly sword practice!"

That sudden flash of inspiration allowed him to completely see through the secret of the stone tablet.

The "人" radical in the character "全" is clearly an extremely ingenious starting move, expansive and powerful, yet without leaving any flaws.

The character "王" (king) below represents a sudden storm, a domineering and deadly attack.

"What a fine Wang Chongyang! What a fine patriarch of the Quanzhen School!"

Yang Guo couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.

"To conceal a complete sword technique within a single character, and then carve it onto stone with your finger—that requires immense confidence and a remarkably high level of skill."

"No wonder these words look so jarring; it's clearly a hidden sword strike!"

Yang Guo threw away the broken branch in his hand, feeling as if a new door had opened before him.

If the single character "全" (quán) can contain so many variations, then there must be eight characters on this stone tablet!

"The Quanzhen Sect's forbidden area; anyone who trespasses shall be executed."

If you can truly understand these eight words, wouldn't it be like getting a peerless sword technique for free?