Chapter 120: There Is a Cat, Treading Snow

After the snow fell too much, just by looking at the sky, you couldn’t tell morning from afternoon.

Even at dusk, there was no sunset or evening glow to be seen.

The sky outside was gloomy.

But as long as you didn’t look up, everywhere you turned was brightly lit, a cold white radiance.

Right behind Chu Tianshu’s back door, a patch about five meters in diameter glowed differently.

The snow had melted into water, revealing dark, damp earth, and some tenacious weeds still alive, beaded with droplets.

Fresh snowflakes melted instantly upon touching the ground, never accumulating.

The surrounding snowdrifts were over ten centimeters deep, creating a clear height difference from this patch of ground.

Chu Tianshu wore only a short-sleeved shirt and loose pajama pants, feet slightly apart at shoulder width, hands gently pressed forward, standing in posture here.

A sound like soft drumbeats continuously emanated from him, dense and unbroken, surging without pause.

His heart rate was deliberately held lower than a normal person’s.

Each beat was thick and powerful enough to circulate blood throughout his body, activating every extremity without exception.

Yet his heartbeat acted like a leading rhythm.

After his chest pulsed, thirteen other “hearts” across his body responded in sequence.

Thus creating an unceasing drumming momentum.

Chu Tianshu’s entire body radiated a steady warmth within this drumbeat.

When snowflakes landed on his skin, they instantly turned into pale white vapor, rising gently.

But his gaze was profoundly calm, fixed on the bamboo grove, each inhale and exhale filled with freshness.

Originally, whether Palm Thunder or Shaolin Fist Form, both emphasized closing the pores, with internal organs and heartbeat echoing inside.

Even if someone stood nearby, the sounds they heard were faint.

When pores could no longer be sealed and sweat poured out like paste, it meant you’d trained too hard and needed to rest.

But the Heartfire Fist Scripture was different—it required actively opening and closing pores during practice.

Every part of the body, inside and out, was alive—even the tiny hairs on the skin were not neglected.

Thus, heat dissipation became noticeably obvious.

“Flesh and blood steaming, heart and bones drunk, hair and nails fused as one.”

Chu Tianshu felt this sensation described in the scripture—his whole body seemed to melt under heat, flesh, bone, organs, and hair all losing their boundaries.

Unawakened martial artists naturally didn’t perceive such clear boundaries.

But once awakened, the difference between bone and flesh became too stark to ignore.

This sensation of no separation now was not a return to primal ignorance, but the mastery of both hard bone and soft hair alike.

Gradually, controlling his bones felt as easy as controlling his muscles.

Chu Tianshu slightly raised his right hand, index finger upright.

His crimson blood made his skin swell slightly, glowing red like jade.

The entire red-jade finger grew longer nails at visible speed.

Two centimeters, three centimeters, until five.

Chu Tianshu stared at the nails; his finger didn’t move, yet the nails automatically curved, curled, and retracted toward the fingertip.

Controlling his nails was as simple as controlling his muscles.

Chu Tianshu lifted his eyelids slightly—the curled nails suddenly snapped straight, emitting a sound like stretched metal snapping taut.

“Retract!”

Chu Tianshu whispered softly, watching the nails grow shorter again.

He was controlling the muscles on the back of his finger to draw in the nail.

Some normally fragile structures on his finger had changed.

The nail plate now hid beneath the skin, fused with bone, blended with flesh, bending or straightening at will, perfectly normal, utterly invisible.

When Chu Tianshu trained at the Tongbei Fist Gym, he’d seen others come to exchange skills.

The master who practiced Tiger and Leopard Claw could also conceal his nails.

But their method of hiding nails and revealing claws never moved the nails themselves—it trained the soft flesh of the fingertip.

They conditioned the fingertip flesh to grow longer and softer, excessively protruding forward.

Thus, their fingers merely looked unusually long in daily life, with no other abnormalities.

During combat, they pulled the soft flesh inward, tightening and reinforcing it, making the nails appear prominently exposed.

This skill fundamentally altered only the flesh.

What Chu Tianshu was doing now—growing nail fragments on the spot, altering the nail’s subtle structure—was beyond the reach of those masters.

“Now, the hair.”

Chu Tianshu’s left hand pinched a strand of hair hanging from his temple, keeping its tip steady in his vision.

Without moving his fingers, the strands automatically twisted, curling slightly at the ends.

Like the green tendrils of a loofah vine.

No—more agile than that, like a squid’s tentacles.

This meant his hair had become sensitive.

Previously, Chu Tianshu’s hair would only react under full explosive force, lashing upward briefly.

Like the ancient phrase “hair standing on end”—a fleeting moment only.

Now, without explosive force, merely tensing part of his scalp caused his hair to respond naturally.

But this heightened sensitivity seemed useless.

The force of hair was too weak; unless he grew a long braid, it was useless in combat.

Yet growing a braid itself might become a vulnerability.

Unless one trained from childhood in hair-whip arts, it was certainly not worth it.

“No—this scripture’s intent is no longer just combat, but increasingly contains bodily evolution.”

Chu Tianshu watched the hair strands.

“Though this hair change has no combat use, in cultivation it’s a vital sign—it means I can now preliminarily control the blood and qi in my skull.”

The human brain also undergoes blood and qi changes.

Yu Dayou speculated that the final step of Threefold Unity was, after already training the scalp, head muscles, and skull, to also train the brain itself.

But this process was extremely dangerous.

Not even Yu Dayou, a pure martial artist.

Even Chu Tianshu dared not lightly touch his own brain.

Mindforce connected to the brain, but mindforce might deepen or transform certain unknown brain traits—it absolutely did not strengthen the brain’s structural resilience.

A mindforce cultivator struck suddenly on the head would still suffer a concussion.

The Threefold Unity pursuit clearly aimed to enhance the brain’s strength as well.

Like toughening skin and flesh.

“Strengthening the brain’s texture”—just hearing it sounded absurd.

Yet the transformation of all his hair could, to some extent, verify internal cranial force changes, helping martial artists correct their cultivation direction.

This was the effort martial artists made toward that implausible goal.

“This Heartfire Fist Scripture is indeed far superior to mere fist forms.”

Chu Tianshu pondered, “If I could use Inner Sage, Outer King while practicing in this state, how exhilarating would the experience be?”

But using Inner Sage, Outer King to assist practice would deeply stir the Barrier of Mortal Flesh.

Without Haidonglai and Cheng the Blind to help.

Chu Tianshu still had no confidence he could recite the Nine Character Mantra in that state to dispel distractions.

That was a pity.

Where could he find a group of masters with heavy killing aura and free time to chant “Kill” for him?

As Chu Tianshu pondered, he suddenly saw a cat dart through the bamboo grove.

It was a black-backed, white-bellied cat, with a slender face, round eyes, and pointed ears—extremely adorable.

Especially above its eyes, two white markings resembled thickly brushed white eyebrows.

As human and cat locked eyes, the cat cautiously approached.

It had clearly been running in the snow for a long time; some of its fur was frozen.

Once it entered the thawed zone and felt Chu Tianshu’s radiating heat, the whole cat shuddered.

“Meow!”

The white-browed cat let out a joyful cry, nuzzling up to Chu Tianshu’s feet, rubbing against his pajama legs.

“Whose cat are you? Roaming around in this icy snow?”

Chu Tianshu examined it—no tags on neck or legs.

When their village divided land, every household received a small plot of bamboo grove behind their homes.

Actually, the entire bamboo grove was connected.

If you walked through it, you could go from the village’s main road all the way to the village’s end.

This cat might belong to anyone—even a neighbor’s village.

“Forget it—come in and warm up first.”

Chu Tianshu had kept a cat as a child, a yellow-and-white domestic cat that later went missing.

He didn’t like petting cats, but he enjoyed watching them.

He still remembered how, as a child, his family had a yellow plastic bowl, used only for the cat—whatever the family ate, they shared some with it.

After eating its fill, it would go out into the wild to dig a hole and relieve itself, playing in groups with other cats around the village.

Nobody understood the fuss over cat food or litter boxes.

After bringing the cat inside, Chu Tianshu closed the back door and put on a trench coat.

The white-browed cat obediently followed him, exited through the front door, and entered the side kitchen.

Chu Tianshu warmed yesterday’s leftover fish tail and bone broth in the microwave, poured it into a small bowl, and set it on the floor.

The broth was just warm—not cold, not hot.

The cat extended its tongue, then jerked it back as if burned, but quickly extended it again.

Chu Tianshu leaned against the table, propping his cheek with one hand, smiling as he watched the cat eat.

The cat ate quickly, lapping up the fish meat, gnawing the bones, and slurping the broth with a slurping sound.

The warm broth and fish meat filled it with satisfaction; it stretched out its four legs, arched its back, and emitted a low, rumbling hum from within.

Even its frozen fur suddenly unfroze, and all its cat hairs fluffed up at once.

Chu Tianshu’s expression shifted slightly: “Hmm?”

He had just detected, in this cat, a hint of the “Tai Chi” quality of relaxing and releasing tendons and bones.

Ancient legends said that skills like closing pores and shaking tendons were inspired by cats and dogs—but that didn’t mean cats and dogs actually practiced martial arts.

This cat before him…

Chu Tianshu narrowed his eyes slightly and deliberately radiated a touch of hostility.

“Meow!!”

The white-browed cat let out a strange cry, suddenly performed a backflip, landed on its hind legs, contracted its spine, lifted its front paws into the air, and fixed its gaze in alert readiness.

Chu Tianshu’s eyes widened sharply.

After that flip, what stood before him was no longer a cat.

It was exactly the image of a cat-person from an animated film.

Its arms were outstretched, chest broad and waist narrow, feet planted firmly on the ground, human-like in form.

Even more, the white-browed cat had assumed a standard martial arts stance.

(End of Chapter)