The Power of the Mind Is Boundless

“What do you think it takes to punch through a tree?”

He asked with feigned solemnity.

“Strength?”

It was the same hotheaded company commander who answered, forcing himself to speak up.

“Muscle?”

Another soldier added quietly.

“Wrong!”

White Tiger shook his head. “All wrong!”

He raised his right hand and slowly clenched it into a fist. He didn’t assume any exaggerated stance, and his movements were even somewhat slow—slow enough for everyone to clearly follow the trajectory of his fist.

There was no sonic boom, no flashy special effect, not even a stir of wind or snow.

The punch landed on the rough tree trunk in the most unremarkable fashion.

Bang!

A dull impact rang out. It sounded no different from the blows the soldiers had thrown earlier.

Then White Tiger withdrew his fist. The bark where he had struck remained completely intact.

Long Ao frowned, utterly unable to understand what that pointless-looking punch was supposed to accomplish.

An Changqing’s eyes, however, suddenly froze.

White Tiger extended two fingers and casually poked the spot he had just hit.

Crack.

An entire palm-sized circle of bark, along with the wood beneath it, silently fell away onto the snow. The exposed surface was as smooth as a mirror, and a perfect fist mark three inches deep was clearly imprinted in the heartwood.

The entire training ground fell silent.

Not even the sound of a pin dropping could be heard.

The soldiers stared wide-eyed at the deep fist mark, then at their own swollen, bleeding knuckles. Their minds went blank. This was clearly not something mere strength could accomplish.

Only then did they realize that this strange man who had just arrived was a true powerhouse.

“Understand now?”

White Tiger brushed the wood chips from his hand and raised an eyebrow smugly, clearly enjoying the chance to show off in front of everyone.

“You. Come here.”

He pointed directly at the hotheaded company commander. The man jolted and instinctively snapped to attention before running over.

“Sir!”

“Tell me, why did you join the army?”

White Tiger suddenly asked a completely unrelated question.

The company commander froze for a moment, then answered loudly, “To protect our homeland!”

“Too vague.”

White Tiger shook his head in dissatisfaction. “Give me something specific.”

The company commander thought for a moment, and a softness appeared in his eyes.

“For my wife and kid—for them to live peaceful, stable lives.”

“Good.”

White Tiger nodded and pointed toward another untouched tree.

“Now forget strength. Forget muscle. Forget that you’re a soldier.”

“Think of only one thing.”

“A monster is charging toward your home. Your wife and child are standing right in front of it.”

“You have no gun, no knife—only these two fists.”

“Go. Beat it to death.”

White Tiger’s words were like a fuse, instantly igniting the deepest emotions in the company commander’s heart. His breathing grew heavy, and his eyes quickly reddened at the scene White Tiger had conjured.

His teeth ground together with a sharp click. He poured every thought he had—every ounce of his determination to protect his wife and child—into that single punch and slammed it into the tree trunk.

Crack.

A faint splitting sound rang out, entirely different from the previous dull thuds.

The company commander himself froze. Trembling, he pulled back his hand. There was no fist mark on the hard trunk, but a clear web of countless fine cracks had appeared across its surface.

It worked?

It was clumsy, but it had really worked.

White Tiger smiled and silently slipped a small bird into his sleeve.

That summoned beast of his could draw out the deepest fear in a person’s heart.

The web of cracks in the snow-covered training ground looked like a crude abstract painting. It was etched into the hard tree trunk—and into the heart of every soldier present.

The entire training ground was silent. Only the northern wind swept through the treetops, letting out a mournful howl.

The company commander stared blankly at his fist. It was still smeared with blood, swollen and red, but he felt no pain at all—only an indescribable shock.

He had done it.

It was nowhere near as astonishing as the man’s earth-shattering punch moments ago, but he had truly left a mark in a place where it should have been impossible for flesh and blood to do so.

“How does it feel?”

White Tiger’s lazy voice broke the silence. He strolled over to the company commander and patted him on the shoulder.

“I…” The company commander opened his mouth and instinctively said, “I think I might understand something now.”

“You don’t understand anything.”

White Tiger exposed him without mercy.

He turned toward all the soldiers. “You think that punch depended on strength?”

White Tiger shook his head. “No.”

He raised one finger and tapped his chest.

“It depends on what’s here.”

“When your body reaches its limits, when your weapons stop working, when you face a terror beyond your understanding, the only thing you can rely on is your will.”

White Tiger’s gaze swept over Long Ao and An Changqing. The amusement in his eyes made both of them feel uncomfortable.

“Physical training can temper your bodies, but it can’t forge the courage to throw a punch when you’re at the end of your rope.”

He looked at An Changqing again.

“Tactical exercises can make you work together seamlessly, but they can’t calculate how quickly the human heart collapses under fear.”

Long Ao’s fist quietly tightened at his side. He wanted to argue, but he found that he had nothing to say.

An Changqing lowered his head. This man, who had always been confident in himself, had finally realized how shallow his understanding was.

“As for you lot…” White Tiger finally turned his attention to the soldiers. “You’re the Great Wall’s finest troops, but your will is as brittle as a potato chip.”

“You’re no match for those in the transcendent realm. But you must believe this: the power of the human spirit is limitless.”

His words were harsh, but this time, not a single soldier showed the slightest sign of dissatisfaction.

“So that kid was right to have you punch trees. The idea was to temper your will.”

White Tiger suddenly changed tack and jerked his chin toward Chen Guan, who was sitting on a rock and watching the show.

Chen Guan nodded inwardly.

I knew that was what I was trying to do.

You really get me.

“But he forgot to tell you that fists alone are useless. Your fists have to contain something—everything you want to protect.”

White Tiger walked back to the tree bearing the fist mark. With his back to the others, he struck the pose of a master.

“Now, everyone, continue.”

“Forget strength. Forget pain. And forget the punch I just threw.”

“Think about why you’re standing here.”

“Then drive that reason into the tree.”

This time, no one hesitated. The soldiers silently spread out, each finding a tree and assuming a stance.

The dull thuds of repeated blows rang out once more, again and again.

Su Yuehe’s gaze moved back and forth between White Tiger and Chen Guan. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the two of them shared a strange, unspoken understanding.

An Changqing walked over to Chen Guan and asked in a low voice, “Was this your goal?”

“To be honest, no.” Chen Guan spread his hands and answered with complete confidence. “I just thought punching trees would make for a more dramatic scene. At least it doesn’t look like we’re slacking off.”

An Changqing: “…”

He felt his temple beginning to throb again.