I. A Crevice of Hope
Zhao Huo stood transfixed before the narrow crevice. The roar of water, which had previously been a mere faint echo, now sounded like a song of nature calling to his soul. The pale blue light seeping from the end of the tunnel acted as a beacon in the midst of the dark destiny that had enshrouded him.
He took a deep breath, letting the humid air fill his lungs. "If this is the path shown by the Buddha, then I shall walk it," he whispered softly.
He placed his torch on the cave floor. The tunnel was too narrow to carry an open flame, and the light at the far end seemed bright enough to guide him. Zhao Huo knelt, pressing his palms against the cold, slick stone. With careful movements, he began to crawl inside.
The tunnel was approximately eight to ten meters long. The stone walls felt smooth, as if polished by air currents over thousands of years. For a sturdy adult man, this gap would feel suffocating, but Zhao Huo—whose body was trained by the agile movements of the kitchen and lightened by a monastic vegetarian diet—was able to move with considerable suppleness.
With every inch he crawled, the gusts of wind carrying the scent of damp earth and the freshness of flora blew stronger against his face. The feeling of confinement slowly gave way to a burgeoning curiosity. When his head finally emerged from the end of the tunnel, his eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.
Zhao Huo stepped out of the crevice and stood up slowly, brushing the dust from his tattered gray robes. He was amazed, nearly unable to believe what lay before him.
He was inside a cavernous space far vaster than the primary cave. Yet, this was not merely a dead stone cavern. Before him lay an impossible ecosystem—a small forest garden hidden deep beneath the earth's surface.
The cave ceiling soared high above, creating a majestic natural dome. On its surface, millions of bioluminescent mosses clung tightly, emitting a blue and white light far brighter than that of the outer cave. However, the primary source of light came from small, natural apertures scattered across the high ceiling. Brilliant moonlight filtered through these holes, falling to the cave floor in pillars of silver light that pierced the thin mist.
Beneath these pillars of light grew various medium-sized trees, their branches heavy with glistening wild fruits. Lush green grass carpeted the ground, feeling soft beneath Zhao Huo's bare feet. A small stream—a branch of a larger underground river—flowed crystal clear through the center of the garden, with small fish swimming gaily, their scales reflecting the glow of the moss above.
"Extraordinary..." Zhao Huo whispered. As a chef, his eyes immediately recognized several edible fruits. He approached the nearest tree and plucked a fruit that resembled an apple but was bright yellow. After ensuring it wasn't poisonous through its aroma, he took a bite. An incredible sweetness and refreshing energy immediately surged through his body.
He walked to the edge of the stream, knelt, and scooped up water with his hands. The water was icy cold but tasted sweet and pure, washing away the dryness in his throat.
"This is a miracle. This place... is a true sanctuary."
II. Encounter with the Predecessor
After his hunger was somewhat satiated, Zhao Huo began to explore the small forest more deeply. His steps were very cautious, honoring the silence of a place that felt sacred. He walked past the trees, but suddenly, his steps came to a dead halt.
His heart hammered against his chest. Beneath the shade of a large tree, its roots coiled around a massive boulder, he found a complete set of human skeletal remains.
The skeleton was in a cross-legged sitting position—a perfect meditation posture (Dhyana Asana). The clothes he wore were torn, tattered, and faded by age, but the remnants of the robes indicated that he was once a devout follower of the Buddha, perhaps a monk.
As a devout monk himself, Zhao Huo immediately pressed his palms together in front of his chest. He bowed low with deep respect. "Namo Amituofo. May your soul find peace in Nirvana, Master," he prayed sincerely. He felt no fear; instead, he felt a sense of peace radiating from the remains.
As he looked closer, Zhao Huo noticed something. The skeleton's hands were folded in its lap, and between the bleached finger bones was tucked a small book that appeared extremely worn and dusty.
Curiosity began to permeate his mind. However, before touching it, Zhao Huo bowed once more. "Forgive this disciple for being presumptuous, Master. I only wish to know who you were and what you have left here."
With hands that trembled slightly, Zhao Huo slowly retrieved the book. It felt heavy and had an unusual texture. "Animal hide..." he muttered. He blew away the thick dust covering the cover, sending gray powder fluttering beneath the pillars of moonlight.
III. The Manual That Changes Destiny
Zhao Huo narrowed his eyes, attempting to read the ancient script engraved on the leather cover. The characters were in Sanskrit and ancient Mandarin, but as a Shaolin monk, he was familiar enough with high-level martial arts terminology.
"Manual... of... Muscle... Reformation..."
Zhao Huo's eyes bulged. His body shook so violently that the book nearly slipped from his hands.
"This... this is impossible," he whispered, his voice choking. "Yi Jin Jing (The Muscle Reformation Classic)?"
His mind flashed back to the oral history taught at Shaolin. The Yi Jin Jing was one of the two sacred manuals created by the Great Ancestor, Bodhidharma. This book was the pinnacle of Shaolin's breathing techniques and body tempering. It was said that whoever mastered this manual would have muscles and bones as strong as steel yet as flexible as rattan, granting limitless internal energy (Inner Qi).
This manual had been missing from Shaolin for over twenty years, ever since the first great invasion by the Demonic Sect that nearly destroyed the monastery. Many believed the book had been stolen or burned by the enemy. This art was equal to, or perhaps even surpassed, the Golden Bell Shield mastered by Abbot Xuan Ye.
"Why is this legendary manual here, in the hands of this skeleton?"
Zhao Huo looked at the remains with new eyes. Who was this figure? Was he a hidden elder who fled with the manual to protect it from the Demonic Sect? Or was he a wanderer who found it and chose to die here to guard its secret?
In the silence of the glowing cave, Zhao Huo realized that his presence in this place was no coincidence. The torture he endured, the betrayal of Fa Xing, and the Abbot's decision to confine him... all those paths had led him to this one object that could change the course of Jianghu history.
His hands, calloused from holding woks, now gripped the leather manual tightly. Beneath the cold moonlight and the glow of blue moss, Zhao Huo knew that his life as a simple chef had come to an end.