Chapter Sixty-Two: The Strength of Bamboo Joints (Part Three)

Bamboo Hand, this school of boxing, follows a path entirely different from other fist arts if one wishes to achieve mastery. In other forms, one contemplates the movements, comprehends the momentum, understands the intent, and ultimately attains the spirit of the fist, merging man and technique as one. Bamboo Hand, however, is the exact opposite. It contains only stance work and breathing exercises, with no defined moves. Therefore, to cultivate it, there is but one route: to comprehend the combined force through the patterns of other boxing styles.

This combined force, to put it simply, is the distilled essence of a killing move within a martial art—the quintessence of all techniques condensed, elevating the intent of the fist to a higher plane. Such force, merging intent into a unified whole, demands that the entire body acts as one, harmonizing inside and out, with roots rising and falling, all nine sections responding together. By feeding this force back into the Bamboo Stance through breathing, the realm of Bamboo Hand rises, joint by joint, like bamboo shooting skyward.

According to Luo Yanzong, at six levels of combined force, one’s boxing art reaches profound mastery. To fully perfect it, at least fifteen levels must be achieved. Thus, the deeper one goes into Bamboo Hand, the harder it becomes to advance.

The main reason is not every style can fuse intent and refine this combined force—only those with profound mastery may attempt it. In theory, to elevate Bamboo Hand to its highest state, one must at least master fifteen different schools of boxing. This is already a feat bordering on the terrifying!

The reason Kou Li chose this art, apart from the fact that perfecting it alone could yield a unique power, was that he discovered a shortcut within its practice. It was his special sense, enhanced by the Nameless Diagram, that allowed him to perceive the essence of killing moves in other boxing arts ahead of time.

This saved him an immense amount of effort.

At this very moment, in Kou Li’s visualization, a beast the height of a man, somewhere between a tiger and a leopard, circled him, its crimson jaws agape. Its thick, furry tail brushed his cheek, prickling like needles. The stronger the vision, the more Kou Li felt a chilling terror, as if truly targeted by this fierce creature. Spurred by the sensation, his right hand flicked and snapped like a viper’s head striking, the five fingernails becoming fangs, unleashing a sharp, tearing sound in the air.

The nails themselves could not truly shoot out—even tigers, cats, or leopards are limited—but what truly extended and recoiled were the large tendons within the palm. Thus, this force, deduced from the Tiger-Leopard Strike, became the Rending Force.

The third level of Bamboo Hand was attained!

After Kou Li gained this new combined force, the tiger-leopard beast in his vision circled him twice more, reluctant to leave, its gaze exuding the innate savagery of a predator. Only then did it slowly vanish into the void.

He exhaled quietly. The sensation just now was as though that imagined beast might swallow him whole.

It was a dangerous feeling.

“With this layer from the Tiger-Leopard Strike, hoping to raise Bamboo Hand to profound mastery before the death match is still unrealistic,” he murmured. Explosive potential may exist, but in boxing, one’s level is one’s level, and accumulation is what matters most. It had taken him almost half a year to bring Tiger Fist to profound mastery—already an extraordinary feat.

To do the same with Bamboo Hand in just a few days would be, as Bao’er said, godlike.

At this thought, Kou Li took out the mysterious amber prayer beads. “By merging my spirit with another’s, both become transformations of my own essence”—this was the principle Bao’er had realized within the beads.

What concerned Kou Li most was the Ghost God Fist Intent of the unseen Sect Leader of the Diao Family. Even if he managed to comprehend the essence of Dragon Fist during the duel, he could not instantly convert it into combat strength.

He needed a way to suppress that strange fist intent, and these prayer beads were the perfect opportunity.

That vast, lifelong force of will contained within far surpassed the Ghost God’s power by a thousandfold. If he could just comprehend a trace, to merge his spirit with another’s—becoming superhuman was uncertain, but to surpass the ghostly god should be possible.

With a shift of thought, that special feeling intensified. The stream within his body now surged like a river, clear and turbulent—his blood and energy in motion.

Amplifying his will, he soon extended it within the amber beads. His body shuddered as the immense collective will of all beings pressed upon his heart like sacred mountains.

Merging my spirit with another’s.

Kou Li attempted to absorb this will, but though it seemed harmless, the moment he tried, it became as hard as steel, and for the first time, the Nameless Diagram’s sensation shattered entirely.

His enhanced hearing and sight vanished in that instant.

But it was not over. After only a few heartbeats, the same sensation surged forth again within him, even sharper now. This had repeated hundreds of times over the past few days, from agonizing spiritual pain at first to a gradual numbness now.

The only constant was that the touch imparted by the Nameless Diagram grew rapidly stronger.

One was a treasure fought over by immortals. The other, a token bestowed upon mortals by immortals.

By all logic, the former’s power should exceed the latter.

As the sensation intensified, the vast will of all beings, magnified endlessly, finally transformed into countless relics, stretching as far as the eye could see. Each relic’s will was far weaker than what he had felt before.

Sure enough, the Nameless Diagram had begun to show its might. With its boundless amplification, even Kou Li could not guess its limits.

Relief and joy filled his heart. To pit mortal will against immortal treasures was to risk utter annihilation at any misstep.

This time, he changed his approach. Instead of trying to absorb the relics, he attuned himself to them, blending the collective intent of all beings into his fist arts.

He pressed thumb and middle finger together, the other three fingers slightly bent—without realizing, he had formed a swastika seal.

These relics, as innumerable as the stars, were not still but constantly shifting and spinning. Through that special touch, Kou Li incorporated their transformations into his body—blood, sinews, flesh, organs—all began to simulate the change.

It was a sensation he had never known: solemn, grand, awe-inspiring. Each drop of blood became an individual, yet under a unified will, formed a whole.

Like the sands of the Ganges, indestructible through the ages, the true enlightenment of the Tathagata, ceaseless and eternal.

Immersed in this state, he realized the river of relics flowed in two directions: one toward the source, one to the past.

卍 and 卐.

Past and future.

A grand fist art must be matched by a grand will!

Time quickly passed to the day he had agreed upon with the Water Dragon Gang. Within Kou Li’s room, a dense crackling sounded—like torrents of water, or beans being fried in a great wok.

Even from outside, one could smell the thick aroma of blood—rich, potent, and fragrant.

At last, the main doors opened and Kou Li emerged. The sharpness once like a hawk in his features now softened, his aura no longer that of a drawn sword.

Advance without retreat; if you do not slay the enemy, you harm yourself.

Of the forty marks among the Buddha’s eighty minor signs: a face pure and round as the full moon.

Arriving at the training ground, he saw the members of the martial hall already waiting anxiously.

“Kou, brother!” Zheng Xiaobao’s eyes brightened, blurting out.

“Don’t worry,” Kou Li replied with a gentle smile, patting his head.

“Senior brother, six hundred taels of silver, double the interest—this is all my savings,” Jiang Shuiyuan whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Kou Li answered just as warmly.

At the door, Yue Wuhuo, Luo Yanzong, and Mo Yi had long been waiting.

“Senior brother, what’s all this—?”

“How could the men of the Burning Body Hall let you fight a death duel without backing you up?” Luo Yanzong said with a smile.

A surge of gratitude filled Kou Li’s heart. Whether the boisterous Yue Wuhuo, the cold Mo Yi, or the gentle Luo Yanzong, they all truly treated him as family.

“Senior brother, you once asked how confident I was—how much determination I had.”

“Yes.”

“Now I can tell you: for every ounce of effort, there’s an ounce of confidence; with ten measures, there’s tenfold resolve. So this time, victory is certain!”

“Eighth brother, give it your all!” The apprentices’ shouts erupted like thunder.