"Qingling Breath Technique"…
The name wasn't particularly elegant, but at least it was longer than "Breathing Method."
And by the principle that "longer must be better," Lin Tuo decided to settle on it.
As for the content itself, that required careful thought.
When he had purchased the method through the Evolution Sand Table, no written manual had been provided—only a stream of information injected into his mind, allowing him to instinctively master it.
But if he wanted to spread it, to let ordinary people learn, the first step was to clearly write down the specific steps.
That wasn't difficult.
Based on his own experience, the so-called "Breathing Method" was simply a special rhythm of inhalation and exhalation.
By deliberately adjusting one's breathing, a person could enter a state of sensory withdrawal and mental stillness.
In that quiet, they would blur their awareness, faintly sense the existence of Ether, and draw it in.
After some hesitation, Lin Tuo chose to write in plain, straightforward language rather than in semi-archaic style. The latter sounded lofty, but would be terrible for dissemination.
Click-clack…
After more than three hours, the first draft of the Qingling Breath Technique was complete.
"Next comes the question of how to spread it…"
Exhaling, Lin Tuo considered the options.
If he wanted instant global attention, the solution was simple: switch to Observation Mode, perform a few "miracles," and it would be everywhere by tomorrow.
The effect would be explosive.
But the risks were obvious.
"If I use miracles, the attention will be overwhelming. The government might even send troops. That wouldn't just disturb the public—it would also make it far harder for me to stay unnoticed."
There was another concern.
Though it worked in theory, he wasn't certain what real-world results it might produce. If the spectacle got out of hand, it would be impossible to reverse.
By comparison, history showed the safer path: a pilot program.
Test it in one area first, monitor the results, refine as needed. That was the cautious approach.
And naturally, the test site had to be Yang City.
Of course, once released, the technique would inevitably spread nationwide through the internet. But if the initial impact was small enough, it would still serve as a pilot.
As for the method of spreading—it couldn't be too flamboyant, or it would draw excessive scrutiny. Yet it had to reach at least a whole district, or else it would have no effect.
"…Perhaps the identity of the 'Taihe Mountain Mysterious Martial Artist' could be useful here."
After some thought, a plan gradually took shape in his mind.
While Lin Tuo secluded himself in his study, drafting the technique, news of the morning's Tack Black Box explosion experiment spread across the globe.
Global events could not be hidden for long.
And the results triggered a new wave of uproar.
Until then, countless people had firmly believed that heavy weapons were humanity's ultimate answer.
Many had declared with confidence: once bombed, the so-called "Grand Wall" would surely collapse.
It wasn't blind faith—it was based on centuries of certainty in the power of explosives.
But this morning's experiment had delivered a cruel fact:
Perhaps, at humanity's current level of civilization, the barrier truly could not be broken.
"I'm scared now. What is this alien technology?Is this like the 'droplet' from Three-Body? Have advanced civilizations already marked us? What do they want from us?"
Online, speculation of this sort began to surge.
Fear, after all, was born of the unknown.
And the Tack Black Box was nothing if not unknown.
Still, some clung to hope, claiming the failure was due to insufficient firepower.
Others even suggested deploying nuclear weapons from high altitude, detonating them over the desert.
After all, it was just uninhabited wasteland.
In short, the internet boiled with debate.
But in Yang City, people's attention was elsewhere.
The Black Box was distant; the "Taihe Mountain Mysterious Martial Artist" was right at their doorstep.
Normally, such a video would be dismissed as a joke. But under current public mood, it struck a deeper chord.
By nightfall, the topic filled every local group chat.
Speculation abounded. Some even vowed to search the site the next day.
And so, after a night of ferment, the following morning, Zhou Mo left home to catch an early bus downtown—and was startled to find the entire bus buzzing with the same topic:
"Did you see that video?""The Taihe Mountain martial artist one?""Yeah.""Is it real?""Who knows…"
Sitting by the window, Zhou Mo listened quietly, a thrill rising in her chest.
As the one who had uploaded the viral video, she had spent the entire previous day in giddy excitement.
Refreshing stats, replying to messages, joining discussions—until even her friends and relatives were messaging her for confirmation.
She hadn't fallen asleep until two or three in the morning.
Now, despite the early hour, she felt no fatigue, only a calm afterglow.
"Shanshan, I'm already on my way. You out yet?" she texted her best friend.
It was Saturday; they had planned a full day out downtown.
A little celebration was in order. After all, going viral on her very first upload was no small feat.
"I'm on my way, don't rush me, missy. Oh, and you brought a jacket, right? It's chilly today."
Zhou Mo smiled at the reply, typed back "I did", and tugged her collar tighter. She turned to look out the bus window.
Sure enough, the weather had taken a strange turn.
Forecasts had promised clear skies, yet at dawn, dark clouds had rolled over the city, blotting out the pale sun.
A mist had spread across the streets, lowering the temperature sharply.
Fog was rare this time of year—possible, but uncommon.
The haze blew in from the direction of the Taihe Mountains, blanketing much of the city.
People donned jackets as if it were autumn already.
Something felt… uncanny.
The bus rolled on into the downtown district.
At her stop, Zhou Mo got off and quickly spotted her waiting friend.
"Shanshan!" she called.
The girl looked up from her phone. Unlike Zhou Mo's fair, delicate beauty, Jiang Yishan had a wheat-colored complexion, curly hair, and a trademark checkered shirt.
"You rushed me, but I ended up waiting for you," Jiang Yishan sighed, hugging her arms.
Zhou Mo smiled sheepishly, then lowered her voice with excitement:
"Everyone on the bus was talking about the mysterious man."
"Same with mine. I can't believe so many people are into it."
The two chatted as they walked into the shopping district.
Because it was Saturday, the downtown streets were already lively. Shops were open, people bustled about—except…
"Doesn't it feel like the fog's thicker here?" Zhou Mo frowned.
Indeed, the mist was heavier in the city center, cold drafts whistling through the streets. Even the billboards were half-blurred.
Bang!
Suddenly, a sharp crack split the air above them.
"What was that?"
"From over there!"
Shoppers froze, turning toward the sound.
So did Zhou Mo and Jiang Yishan—just in time to hear gasps rising from the base of a tall building:
"Ah!""Look!""On the roof! Someone's up there!!"
A stir swept through the square. Those nearby rushed closer; those farther away craned their necks.
The two girls exchanged a startled glance and followed the crowd.
In moments, hundreds had gathered, all gazing upward.
Zhou Mo looked too—and her eyes widened.
At the rooftop's edge stood a figure, dressed in training clothes, face concealed.
Beside him towered a massive stone stele, taller than a man.
"This… could it be…"
Her mind reeled, disbelief flooding her face.
Jiang Yishan gasped, blurting out: "The mysterious man?!"
The mysterious man!
Even if the silhouette was vague, the aura—and that stone stele, so familiar—were unmistakable.
It was the "Taihe Mountain Martial Artist" from the viral video!
"Is it him?""The guy from the video?""No way…""It has to be fake…"
The square erupted in chatter. Phones came out, recording.
Just then, the fog surged violently, stirred by an unseen wind, heightening the eerie atmosphere.
And before anyone could react, the rooftop figure raised his hands—lifting the massive stele as if it were weightless.
With a resonant shout, he hurled it straight into the plaza!
"Ahhh!""Watch out!!""Run!!"
Panic broke out. People scattered instinctively.
The great stone cut through the air with a mournful whistle, then crashed with perfect precision into the center flowerbed.
Thud!
The ground shook. Cries of alarm rang out. A few nearly fell in fright.
Zhou Mo and Jiang Yishan clung together, trembling, then looked toward the fallen stele.
And froze.
For carved into its face were countless characters, etched deep like chisel and hammer.
Dense, orderly, and legible.
At the very top, a bold title:
"Qingling Breath Technique."
Zhou Mo stood stunned for several seconds before jerking her gaze back up to the rooftop.
But the figure was gone.
Only an empty rooftop remained, the fog dispersing slowly into the morning air.
The mysterious man had vanished.
That day, in the heart of Yang City, the martial artist revealed himself, leaving behind a strange cultivation art.
Thousands witnessed it firsthand.
By evening, the entire city was in an uproar.
(End of Chapter)