“I get it now! Even computers have sleep and hibernate modes,” Zhang Manman suddenly said. “Sleep mode means the memory is still powered and data is still being transmitted. Hibernate mode is when everything is saved and the computer shuts down.”

“That’s a very fitting analogy,” Master Ma said with approval.

“Our Tai Chi focuses a lot on this or that kind of force, but in the end, it’s all physical movement. When it comes to the psychological aspect, we don’t delve as deeply,” Old Chen added, listening attentively.

“In short, the entry level of the Great Corpse State is turning rough thoughts into subtle thoughts—this is the first level. Most people who practice this art can’t get past this stage. They can’t get rid of their rough thoughts and are unable to maintain only the subtle ones.” Master Ma gave Su Jie a curious look. “How long did it take you to pass this stage?”

Su Jie thought about it. It seemed like he had entered that state the first time he tried.

That was one of the reasons Odell had taken an interest in him.

Back then, he hadn’t thought it was anything special. But now, he realized just how shocking it really was.

Still, he told the truth. “I got rid of the rough thoughts and entered the subtle state on my first try.”

Master Ma’s mouth fell open and stayed that way for a long while before he finally closed it. “Someone like you, in ancient times, would be considered born to cultivate the Way… but I still don’t believe it. Kid, don’t brag.”

Su Jie shook his head. “Master Ma, please continue. Just take it as me bragging.” He didn’t want to get hung up on that point—he was more interested in the explanation.

“Alright then.” Master Ma continued, “The second level of the Great Corpse State is ‘seemingly dead, yet not dead.’ As one’s training deepens, even the subtle thoughts become so faint that even you can’t tell whether they still exist. You might say they don’t, but there are faint traces. Say they do, but you can’t detect any clear form. In meditation, this is called ‘neither perception nor non-perception.’ It’s the same idea—thoughts so subtle they defy precise explanation, existing somewhere between presence and absence. This state is extremely rare. If the first level, ‘peace of heart and tranquility of spirit,’ is already one-in-a-million, then this second level is truly the peak. In ancient times, only extremely accomplished Zen masters might reach it after a lifetime of practice. In today’s world, it’s even rarer.”

“What about the third level?” Su Jie had already reached the second level and had even glimpsed the third.

“The third level is when even the last traces of subtle thought disappear completely. This is the realm of the Living Dead. I call it ‘heart dead, spirit alive.’ In Zen, it’s said that when one reaches this state, their Buddha nature is born. With the death of the heart, the Buddha nature emerges. Confucianism calls this the Benevolent Heart; Daoism calls it the Heart of the Way,” Master Ma explained. “At this level, a person’s physical constitution undergoes incredible changes. In all my years, I’ve only seen a handful of people who might’ve reached this level.”

“Master Ma, have you reached this state?” Su Jie asked.

“No. Like you, I’m still at the second level—seemingly dead, yet not dead. Of course, I don’t practice the Great Corpse State. I follow a different meditation method. But the principle is the same. The end goal is still that state,” said Master Ma.

“Kid, have you really reached that ‘seemingly dead’ state?” Old Chen was skeptical. “I’ve been practicing Tai Chi and nourishing Qi for so many years. At most, I sleep soundly without dreaming, eat well, and feel physically great. My senses—sight, hearing, taste, smell—are sharper than ever. Based on what Old Ma said, I’m just at the first level: peace of heart and tranquility of spirit.”

“Uncle Chen, everyone knows how fit you are. Your favorite trick is biting through walnuts and dried beans,” Zhang Manman chimed in.

Old Chen was over sixty, but he looked like he was in his early forties.

And his teeth were incredibly strong. He could crunch dried beans into powder with a single bite. Even hard walnuts could be cracked with his teeth. Of course, he could also crush them easily with his fingers.

“Old Chen, to be honest, I didn’t believe it either. But the facts are right in front of me. My experience in psychology tells me this kid is the real deal. He might even break through to the living dead state,” Master Ma said with a bitter smile. “That time I saw him in the park, his ‘death’ wasn’t quite clean. But now, I can’t even sense any trace of psychological activity from him.”

“I don’t buy it no matter what you say.” Old Chen shook his head. “If someone his age really reached the living dead state, he’d be even more impressive than Ancestor Chongyang! Only the Sixth Patriarch Huineng achieved sudden enlightenment at a young age and reached that state. He read that line in the Diamond Sutra—‘Let the mind arise without dwelling on anything’—and became a Buddha on the spot. A timeless legend.”

“‘Let the mind arise without dwelling on anything’?” Su Jie repeated thoughtfully.

“It means when a person has no attachments to worldly things or emotions, Buddha nature arises,” Master Ma explained. “The word ‘dwelling’ means to stop or linger. It refers to attachment. But this attachment isn’t just emotional—it refers to karmic ties. It’s not telling you to abandon your humanity or disregard your parents and loved ones. Some people misunderstand this, abandon everything, and end up on the demonic path. ‘No dwelling’ is not nihilism. Some people today train in methods of detachment that are completely misguided.”

“This is really hard to understand,” Su Jie shook his head.

“Martial arts are easier. This move, that move—there’s always a pattern to follow,” Old Chen said, shaking his head. “But the stuff you’re talking about—it’s too deep, too abstract. For someone who doesn’t understand, it just sounds like you’re selling snake oil.”

“Actually, there are still a lot of these so-called ‘masters’ running so-called spiritual cultivation classes. They’re all frauds—not only do they mess with people’s mental health, but they also scam people out of money and take advantage of them sexually. They even threaten public safety. This kind of thing keeps happening despite crackdowns, and it’s affecting people like us who are genuinely researching psychology.” Master Ma sighed.

“So that’s why you won’t run your own class?” Old Chen asked. “I was hoping you’d come to my Hunyuan Tai Chi Martial Arts Hall and give the students a few lectures.”

“Forget it.” Master Ma waved his hand. “The true methods shouldn’t be passed around lightly. It’s not that I’m trying to keep them to myself—it’s just that even when you lay the truth out in front of them, they still think you’re a fraud. It’s frustrating.”

“Let’s get back to our research then,” Old Chen said. “You’re trying to borrow ideas from my Taichi to develop methods to treat mental illness.”

“My crystal ball therapy method is nearly complete. Since little Su Jie is here, why not let him see it in action? Maybe he can help me spot some flaws.” Master Ma pulled out a crystal ball the size of an apple from a drawer.

As soon as he held it, the ball seemed to float weightlessly in the air. With a slight twist of his hand, it drifted as though defying gravity.

As his movements changed, the crystal ball became even lighter than a feather, rolling freely over his fingertips, palms, arms, and shoulders.

It looked like the ball had come to life—like a crystal bunny full of energy, hopping all over Master Ma’s body.

Watching the crystal ball, Su Jie felt like he was seeing a newborn creature discovering the world for the first time, curious and amazed by everything it saw.

He couldn’t help but feel joyful.

“Ah!”

Zhang Manman let out a surprised cry. The crystal ball had suddenly begun rolling faster and faster, as though the little bunny was being chased by a predator—maybe a hawk—and was frantically trying to escape.

Su Jie felt his heart tighten, worried for the bunny’s fate.

Creak!

At the very last second, the crystal ball darted into Master Ma’s sleeve, just like a bunny diving into its burrow at the critical moment to escape danger.

Su Jie finally relaxed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Then, the crystal ball poked its way back out of the sleeve, looking playful and lively. It rolled around gently as if basking in the sun, and then gradually came to a stop—as though tired and ready for a deep sleep.

Su Jie’s eyes and mind were fully captivated by the vivid little crystal ball. He couldn’t look away, dancing along with its “life.” When it seemed tired and ready to sleep, he too felt a calm drowsiness settle over him.

He glanced over at Zhang Manman—and was surprised to see her already asleep in her chair.

“This segment with the crystal ball was inspired by a moment I once witnessed—a bunny venturing out of its burrow, being chased by a hawk, and narrowly escaping. I expressed it through this technique and named it ‘Life and Death.’ I incorporated various forms of Taichi energy into it,” said Master Ma. “I also added some hypnotic techniques to treat psychological issues and help people gain insight into the cycle of life and death in nature. What do you think?”

“Amazing,” Su Jie was in awe. “This is truly a profound art. I’ve seen crystal ball acts on talent shows that were dazzling to the eye, but what you’ve done here—that’s like the difference between a grade schooler and a PhD. Watching it made me feel the impermanence of life and death. I feel lucky to be alive, deeply calm and content. To use martial arts this way… it’s a whole new world. Using martial arts just for fighting feels like such a waste now.”

“Exactly. The ultimate purpose of martial arts is to create a better life. Using it just to fight and compare strength is too narrow-minded,” Old Chen agreed.

“What happened to me?” Zhang Manman suddenly woke up. “Uncle Ma, did you hypnotize me just now? That nap felt amazing.”

“You have a lot on your mind,” Master Ma said. “Stay here with me for a while. I’ll help you adjust your mental state.”

Zhang Manman seemed to be waiting for those words. “Thank you, Uncle Ma. Your psychological training is rare. I heard Liu Long invited you to guide him for three months, and it helped him beat all his opponents and win the national championship at the Heshan Cup. His ranking score has been at the top ever since, far ahead of the second place.”

“Liu Long?” Su Jie knew that name—he was currently the top fighter in the country. Zhou Chun had just made it into the top ten, but compared to Liu Long, he was way behind.

Zhou Chun’s rating was a little over 300, while Liu Long’s was more than 5,000—a tenfold difference.

A fighter’s ranking score is calculated based on wins, match frequency, and the quality of performance, using a precise algorithm to assess strength.

Even though Zhou Chun made it into the top ten, if he ever faced Liu Long, he’d probably get beaten so badly he wouldn’t recognize his own mother.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep