The mastery of internal force through techniques, without needing focused intent or spirit—having grasped this line, the more he contemplated it, the more profound it seemed. The true secret to the introductory level of the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture lies precisely in its unintentionality.

It appeared then that the cultivation of the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture did have a defined path; he realized he had been misguided all along. It wasn't about achieving a sublime state of mind, but rather taking the wrong approach.

This suggested the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture might be a martial art originating from the military, though why it spread to the common people as a secret technique was a mystery. Perhaps the ancestors of the Wang family were soldiers.

Suddenly, he frowned, realizing that too felt incorrect. Firstly, the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture lacked formalized moves. Secondly, if it were truly a military martial art, the internal energy cultivated through it should not integrate with civilian martial arts.

Li Yujiao of Sacred Snow Peak possessed an internal cultivation method that was a peerless martial art of the Jianghu; it shouldn't be merely a military technique.

He pondered this for a long time, feeling puzzled. He decided to stop overthinking for now and focus on cultivating the Soaring Bear Palm first, intending to slowly unravel the mysteries of the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture later; there was plenty of time ahead.

In the following days, he spent only one shichen practicing archery in the morning. Afterward, he would let Chi Ying roam freely in the training ground while he focused on practicing his palm techniques on the side.

The Soaring Bear Palm had no accompanying mental cultivation method, but it possessed numerous critical principles. The key was mastering its subtle nuances: simultaneously heavy and light. How could something heavy also be light? Those who had never witnessed a bear would find this secret difficult to grasp.

Fortunately, having come from a later era, he had visited zoos and seen bears. They appeared ponderous and clumsy, lumbering along unevenly, yet their movements were swift and agile—a stark contrast.

He recalled how the bears in the zoo lived within an enclosure, with visitors standing on high ground looking down. People often bought bananas or dried biscuits to toss to the bears, teasing them.

Those black bears could rise onto their hind legs, standing upright, and swiftly catch the thrown items, their speed contradicting their bulky forms. They walked slowly, yet their movements were fast and nimble; he had been quite astonished by it back then.

Now, while practicing the Soaring Bear Palm, he recalled those observations, allowing him to grasp the dual principles of weight and agility. His movements became precise as he slowly plumbed the depths of its essence.

This palm technique drained internal energy heavily. An ordinary person would be drenched in sweat after half an shichen and unable to continue, yet he practiced straight through the entire morning without a break.

Again and again, his spirit was like a soaring dragon, immensely powerful, enabling him to maintain intense focus. Every repetition brought new insight, ensuring high efficiency.

He practiced the Soaring Bear Palm in the morning and blade techniques in the afternoon. After one shichen of blade work, he moved on to spear (still standing practice).

He held a long spear made of iron in his right hand. To him, it felt like a simple stick, but as time wore on, this stick-like spear grew heavier, weighty as a mountain.

On the first day, he couldn't even manage half an shichen. Despite his body being tempered by the Indestructible Vajra Divine Art far beyond ordinary people, he couldn't sustain it—he had never exerted this particular kind of force before.

The second day, he was slightly stronger, holding it for half an hour. On the third day, he held it even longer. His comprehension was sharp, and his inner sight clear, allowing him to slowly grasp some crucial techniques.

This spear zhuang practice wasn't about brute strength, but about applying force. He possessed immense physical power; a spear felt lighter than a feather to him. Holding such a heavy weight overhead or on his shoulder for days without rest was no issue, but holding it level in front of him was impossible—not due to lack of strength, but due to improper force application.

If he could master this specific exertion of force, he could stand for several hours without the slightest problem, given his physical condition.

As he stood there, he reflected on the words Coach Zhang had spoken.

People often possess a fatal flaw when learning: they hear, but do not truly listen.

Words summarized by the instructor through countless experiences and sweat might sound ordinary, but the learner often fails to realize their importance until they begin practicing and gain personal insight, finally recognizing the truth in those simple statements.

Li Muzhan understood this point deeply. He branded Coach Zhang's words into his mind, examining every phrase, scrutinizing every single word.

With every review, he gained some understanding: the essence of spear usage lay in applying force; the spear needed to become one with the person—the spear must have ears, eyes, and skin; it must be able to hear, see, and feel.

Only upon reaching this level could one truly begin spear training. Otherwise, even practicing moves would only be superficial, yielding limited power, akin to wielding a simple club.

Coach Zhang held the spear in the highest regard, considering it the king of all weapons, possessing unparalleled might. In the midst of ten thousand troops, taking the head of a general was as simple as reaching into one's own pocket—only spear techniques possessed such power.

Li Muzhan had never understood how a spear could have ears and eyes. While holding the spear zhuang, he focused his attention, trying to experience this, striving for unity between man and spear, never rushing, never tiring, his focus unwavering upon it, unwilling to let it slip away for even a moment.

Achieving this state was impossible for ordinary people. The mind is like a restless monkey, the intent like a runaway horse—prone to movement rather than stillness, easy to release but difficult to control; people couldn't fully master them, instead being dragged along by them.

Li Muzhan’s meditative concentration was profound, allowing him to sustain focus on a single thought for such extended periods.

Focusing on one thought consumes immense mental energy. Even accomplished high monks, after long years of cultivation, struggle to maintain it for long. Their long periods of samadhi are not continuous concentration but more akin to a brief, ethereal dream.

Li Muzhan possessed four Heart Beads, his mental power like a dragon’s, tremendously formidable, enabling him to maintain this single-minded focus for a long time—his stability was astonishing.

However, the work of the mind remains hidden within the inner world, not outwardly manifest. Ordinary people cannot perceive its power; it only reveals its might when interacting with external objects.

He held the long spear level with his right hand, his eyes slightly narrowed, his gaze converging into a single line focused intently on the spear. Simultaneously, he visualized another spear in his mind.

A spear floated suspended in the void, light swirling around it. Then, he mentally guided this visualized spear onto the physical spear in his hand, making the two become one.

This was the technique he used when cultivating the Yellow Dragon Flying Sword. He had benefited greatly from the principles of 'man-sword unity' and the cultivation of the Yellow Dragon Flying Sword, considering it the supreme method...

Applying it now, slowly, spear after spear was drawn from the void and merged into the spear in his hand. Until, at a certain moment, a subtle stir in his heart caused him to halt, pouring all his mental focus onto the spear in his hand.

None of the Wang family disciples ever succeeded in mastering the Yellow Dragon Flying Sword cultivation method.

The key lay in possessing both the ability to multitask mentally (one mind, two uses) and overwhelmingly strong mental power—both were indispensable. While many people can multitask, and many possess powerful spirits, those like him were exceedingly rare.

Slowly, as time passed, he forgot himself, unable to perceive anything around him. In his eyes, there was only this spear; between heaven and earth, only this spear remained.

The surroundings were noisy and bustling—people sparring, others diligently practicing, some chatting and laughing loudly in small groups.

All of this slowly receded as his concentration intensified. "Thump," "Thump!" The sound of his heartbeat grew louder, roaring in his ears, drowning out the surrounding commotion.

Within the rhythm of his heart, it felt as though the blood was slowly flowing out of his body and into the spear through his palm. The spear suddenly seemed alive, melding seamlessly with him, becoming one organic whole.

His hand suddenly felt a lightness; the long spear seemed to vanish for an instant, feeling as light as a feather. What he felt was not the spear, but almost like his own hand.

He smiled slightly, knowing he had entered a sublime state. He maintained his composure, his mind still and unruffled—this level of attainment was exceedingly rare, the perfect moment for true comprehension.

He continued to nurture the spear with his spirit, merging deeper until the connection between man and weapon tightened further.

Slowly, as time elapsed, the sky grew dark. Li Muzhan still held the spear, motionless, as if transformed into a statue.

The crowd watched with some astonishment, occasionally glancing over. Holding a spear level for an entire afternoon was unusual; it seemed he had grasped the true essence of the spear.

Coach Zhang had been standing beside Li Muzhan. Seeing Zhao Shengli and the other two approaching, he quickly waved his hands, signaling them to leave so as not to disturb him.

Zhao Shengli and the pair glanced at Li Muzhan with expressions of envy before turning away.

Dusk deepened, and the surroundings grew quiet. On the training ground, only Li Muzhan stood frozen, unmoving, with Coach Zhang beside him, equally still.

Li Muzhan was immersed in the spear, his entire being transformed into a spear—the spear was him, and he was the spear.

A gentle evening breeze drifted by, brushing against the spear shaft. Some winds were deflected, some spun in a small circle before returning, and then departed, like mischievous children.

The spear shaft trembled lightly under the soft touch of the breeze, almost imperceptibly, as if playing with the wind, filling his heart with a faint, quiet joy.

The evening breeze was soft, barely noticeable. His senses were sharp, his pores open, and he could clearly feel the breeze brushing against his skin. He momentarily confused whether the sensation was coming from the spear or his own skin, unable to distinguish between them.

After an unknown amount of time, he slowly awoke. The surroundings were pitch black, and in the gentle evening breeze, the distant tents glowed, resembling scattered stars in the sky.

"You're awake?" Coach Zhang's voice sounded.

Li Muzhan turned his head, performed a respectful bow: "Coach."

Coach Zhang stood in the night air, his eyes bright, nodding with a smile: "You have found the entrance. Good. Tomorrow, I will teach you spear techniques."

"Yes," Li Muzhan replied respectfully.

He caressed the spear in his hand, feeling a sensation as if it were connected by flesh and blood—truly miraculous.

"Spear techniques consist of only three moves: Block, Seize, and Pierce (Lan, Na, Zha). All other myriad variations spring from these fundamentals. Wielding the spear is all about applying force," the next afternoon, when the sun was high and the sunlight scorching, Coach Zhang held Li Muzhan's spear, flicked it gently, and announced loudly.

Saying this, he gave a slight tremor, and immediately, myriad silver blossoms swept toward Li Muzhan. Li Muzhan slashed across with his long saber, intending to deflect them and seal off his guard. With a sharp clang, the spear blossoms scattered, and the spear tip collided with his saber.