Refining Sword Momentum

After finishing the meal, the dishes were cleaned and put away.

Ning Xian did not immediately go about her usual business. Instead, her expression grew a few degrees more serious.

"Junior Brother, your talent is exceptional. In the pursuit of the sword path, you must not stop at merely imitating forms."

Fang Xuan immediately sat up straight, putting on an appearance of humble learning.

'Here it comes! Senior Sister's private lesson is in session!'

"The way of the sword begins with learning forms, which emphasizes shape; it then progresses to refining momentum, which emphasizes intent."

Ning Xian traced a line in the air with her fingertip. Though she clearly used no spirit power, an invisible sense of sharpness emanated from the gesture.

"So-called sword momentum is a field condensed from one's own will, spirit power, and understanding of the sword path. It is formless and intangible, serving as the foundation for refining sword intent later on."

As she spoke, her gaze narrowed slightly, focusing on a bamboo leaf drifting past the edge of the stone table.

She made no movement; even her fingertip did not twitch.

Yet, Fang Xuan clearly felt an indescribable momentum flash from Ning Xian's body. It was so fast that he almost thought it was an illusion.

Before their eyes, the weightless bamboo leaf was silently and neatly split into two halves mid-air.

The cut was as smooth as a mirror.

Fang Xuan was stunned.

'Unleashing sword intent at will? Senior Sister, you're currently in the Body Tempering Realm! Is it really necessary to be this ridiculous at the Body Tempering Realm?'

Ning Xian acted as if she had done something trivial. Her breathing remained steady, and her expression did not change.

She looked at Fang Xuan, her voice remaining calm.

"Of course, you don't need to chase that level of mastery yet. You only need to try using your own spirit power and will to simulate the sharpness and firmness of a sword. Condensing that into a single point or line is the initial prototype of sword momentum."

She briefly explained a few basic methods and mental techniques for condensing sword momentum, all of which were orthodox and solid approaches.

Fang Xuan nodded repeatedly as he listened, but his heart felt a bit restless.

It sounded... like it wasn't that difficult?

Once Ning Xian finished her explanation, she left him to reflect and practice on his own while she went to check the herb garden.

Finding that it had already been watered, she took a small herb hoe and some dried herbs. She sat at the other end of the courtyard and began silently grinding and sorting the medicine.

She currently had no sect stipend, and her severe injuries required many medicinal ingredients for recovery. She could only rely on making the lowest-grade hemostatic and bruise-healing ointments.

She would then take them to the market at the foot of the mountain to exchange for spirit stones and necessary supplies.

Fang Xuan walked to the center of the courtyard, took a deep breath, and followed the method Ning Xian had described to focus his mind.

At first, he felt nothing, but soon he noticed the air around his fingertips seemed to change.

He attempted to make a light, mid-air slashing motion toward a cluster of emerald bamboo not far away.

He didn't use much spirit power, relying purely on that condensed momentum.

A faint, subtle sound whispered through the air.

A single leaf on the outermost edge of the bamboo grove quietly drifted to the ground, its tip severed.

Fang Xuan froze.

He looked at his finger, then at the fallen leaf, and blinked.

'...It worked? Just like that?'

Could it be... that he really was a genius among geniuses?

He quickly glanced over at Ning Xian.

She was facing away from him, focused on grinding the medicine, seemingly oblivious to the commotion.

Fang Xuan breathed a sigh of relief. It was good she hadn't noticed; it wouldn't be good to appear too monstrously talented.

Little did he know that the moment his sword momentum first formed and the leaf fell, Ning Xian’s movements had paused for a fraction of a second.

Though she didn't look back, her perception remained sharp.

That fleeting yet exceptionally cold and sharp momentum... was definitely not something a typical foundation establishment cultivator could achieve on their first try.

This talent... was indeed terrifyingly powerful.

Ning Xian lowered her eyes, hiding the ripple of surprise within them, and continued her work without calling him out.

'A tree that stands above the forest will be destroyed by the wind. His current situation is delicate; it is better for him to remain low-key...'

...

Fang Xuan's excitement grew.

He continued practicing with his fingers, finding that as long as he concentrated, cutting through small branches and leaves from a distance was no longer difficult.

The speed of his progress felt somewhat surreal even to him.

"What the... I really am a genius!" he whispered to himself.

Having had his fill of playing with his fingers, Fang Xuan's gaze landed on the pitch-black longsword leaning against the bamboo hut's wall.

A thought struck him. Since it was sword momentum, wouldn't using an actual sword produce better results?

Moreover, this sword was so domineering. Using it to trigger sword momentum might make it even more powerful...

He walked over, gripped the cold, heavy hilt, and drew the blade.

The black sword reflected no light, but it possessed a profound, solid texture.

"Little Brother, oh Little Brother," he whispered, patting the blade, "give me some face and cooperate a little."

At first, everything seemed to go smoothly. A slight resonance vibrated from the blade. Though it still lacked spiritual light, Fang Xuan felt as if the sword in his hand had gained a spark of life.

He calmed his mind, preparing to release the momentum with a simple diagonal slash.

A heart-shaking vibration rang out.

The hand holding the sword was violently repelled by a berserk force.

Fang Xuan felt a massive shock in his tiger’s mouth, and his palm went numb.

The black sword flew out of his hand, turning into a blurry black shadow as it shot straight toward a man-sized, gray-green boulder at the edge of the courtyard.

The black sword sliced into the hard rock like a knife through tofu, sinking in up to the hilt.

The hilt remained there, vibrating slightly.

Fang Xuan stood frozen in his original posture, his right hand still trembling uncontrollably. It was numb and painful, leaving him completely stunned.

He had almost lost his hand. Was this a sword or a rocket launcher?

'Little Brother... do you really have to have such a big temper? I just wanted to cooperate with you.'

At the other end of the courtyard, the sound of medicine grinding stopped abruptly.

Ning Xian stood up and walked over quickly.

She glanced at the black sword embedded deep in the boulder, then at Fang Xuan’s slightly trembling right hand. A trace of helplessness appeared in her cold eyes.

"What happened?" she asked.

Fang Xuan finally snapped out of it, shaking his numb hand. "It's nothing, Senior Sister. Just practicing my sword..."

He couldn't exactly say, "I was blown away by my own sword," could he? That would be too embarrassing.

Ning Xian walked to the boulder and reached out with her slender fingers to lightly touch the cold, hard hilt.

The sword's vibration immediately ceased, like a tamed beast.

"This sword... its material is unique, and its nature is indeed far too arrogant and fierce."

She turned to look at Fang Xuan, her gaze falling on his right hand. "Let me see your hand."

Fang Xuan hesitated for a moment before obediently holding out his still-numb right hand.

Ning Xian's fingers lightly supported his wrist, while the fingertips of her other hand condensed a faint trace of spirit power. She gently pressed and brushed over several acupoints on his tiger’s mouth and palm.

"This sword is ferocious. A common grip cannot manage its recoil force," Ning Xian said as she guided his blood and energy to clear the blockage.

"I will teach you a few special gripping styles. I saw them in a fragmented ancient text years ago. They might help you control it better and reduce the backlash."

Her voice was close, and her breath was light.

Fang Xuan could smell the faint scent of medicinal herbs and a cold fragrance lingering on her.

At the point where her fingers touched his wrist, the aching numbness was rapidly fading away.

'Another... another hands-on teaching session?'

This time it was both medical treatment and instruction—double the happiness.