The Beginning

“‘Hanlin’!”

Shen Xiuhan's eyes flashed with a sharp light as his right hand suddenly gripped the hilt.

A crisp sword chime echoed throughout the small courtyard.

Shen Xiuhan held the sword with one hand, bringing the green blade level with his eyes. He pressed two fingers together like a sword blade and slowly swept them across the snow-bright edge.

He then reversed the blade, pointing the tip directly at his shoulder. The pure white blade drew close to his skin, and the bone-chilling air radiating from it made the hairs on his body stand on end.

“What a fine sword, this ‘Hanlin’!” Shen Xiuhan praised in satisfaction.

With a flick of his wrist, the blade traced a silver-white arc in the air before sliding back into its scabbard with a crisp click, the handguard fitting perfectly against the sheath.

Ji Zhong stroked his beard and smiled.

“With ‘Hanlin’ by your side, you will surely make a stunning debut at the martial feast, Young Master. Claiming the top spot and entering the pool is just a matter of time.”

Shen Xiuhan did not let the flattery get to his head. He shook his head slightly and looked up at Ji Zhong.

“Uncle Zhong, this sword is made of incredibly solid materials and is exceptionally sharp. Fifty taels of silver... I'm afraid that's far from enough, isn't it?”

“...The price indeed exceeded that amount by a bit, but you don't need to treat us like strangers, Young Master. Our family spent a fortune to find this sword, also hoping you can showcase the might of our Ji family!”

Ji Zhong waved his hand, his smile fading slightly as his expression turned serious.

“As you know, Young Master, the Luo family has become increasingly overbearing in recent years. In particular, two members of their younger generation, Luo Qiance and Luo Wancheng, frequently pick fights and look down on our family's disciples in public. Their words are harsh, and their arrogance is boundless...”

Ji Zhong paused, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

“Those two will also be stepping onto the stage this time. If you happen to face them... I hope you can teach them a small lesson! There is no need to kill them; just let them know that there is always someone better out there!”

Shen Xiuhan understood.

Back at the placement meet, the Luo family manager had openly mocked Ji Zhong.

From the looks of it, the conflict between the younger generation was likely even more intense!

“...I understand!”

Shen Xiuhan nodded slightly, making no explicit promises.

Ji Zhong did not press further either. He smiled, cupped his hands, and took his leave.

“In that case, please rest early, Young Master. I shall not disturb you any longer.”

...

After seeing off the members of the Ji family, Shen Xiuhan slid the bolt into place and locked the courtyard gate.

Standing alone under the moonlight, the cool silver glow bathed his shoulders.

Caressing the scabbard of “Hanlin” with his left hand, he hesitated no longer and muttered in his mind:

“Deduction!”

[Deductible martial art “Flowing Cloud Swordplay” detected. Begin Deduction?]

“Yes!”

In the next breath, information flooded in.

The world around him seemed to freeze.

The sound of the wind, the chirping of insects, and the distant clacking of the night watchman's bamboo clapper all vanished completely.

A golden phantom materialized out of thin air, standing proudly atop a sea of clouds. Its robes fluttered in the wind, making it look like a sword immortal descending upon the mortal realm.

With a flick of its wrist, the phantom spun the sword into a dazzling flower and began practicing the Flowing Cloud Swordplay over and over again.

[You bitterly cultivate the Flowing Cloud Swordplay day and night for four years. Practicing the basic sword techniques of stabbing, slashing, lifting, and parrying, your wrists blister and your hands develop thick calluses. You commit every move to memory, reaching the Minor Accomplishment stage. However, though your strikes are fast, they lack the true essence of being as light as the wind and as fluid as clouds. Your swordplay has form but lacks spirit.]

[In the tenth year, you draw your sword on mountain peaks and slash against roaring waterfalls. No longer bound by the rigid forms of the manual, you grasp the continuous flow of water and the gathering and dispersing of clouds and mist. One day, you suddenly feel your swordplay flowing like water and moving with effortless continuity, as elusive and unpredictable as drifting clouds. You have trained the Flowing Cloud Swordplay to the Great Accomplishment stage!]

[In the thirteenth year, you travel to every martial arts hall in the prefectural counties, challenging them to test your sword. You spar and exchange pointers with various experts, refining your understanding. Your swordplay becomes increasingly light, elegant, and ethereal. In actual combat, you comprehend the profound utility of using strength to break skill and tempering rigidity with softness. Your Flowing Cloud Swordplay has reached the Great Perfection stage.]

[In the fifteenth year, you enter secluded meditation, sitting in silence as you attempt to pierce through to the true essence of the sword. Day after day, you forget to eat and sleep. Finally, in a single moment of enlightenment, you grasp the true meaning of sword-glow. Your sword cultivation advances leaps and bounds, the power of your swordplay becoming increasingly fierce and lethal. Every time your sword unsheathes, it is a deadly strike!]

As the golden phantom unleashed a strike that resembled a brilliant streak of light cutting across the sky, a bone-chilling, razor-sharp sword aura surged directly into Shen Xiuhan's body!

“Ugh!”

Shen Xiuhan let out a muffled groan, the veins on his temples bulging as he clenched his teeth.

The fierce sword aura forced its way down his right arm, washing through and compressing before finally flooding into “Hanlin” in his hand!

Hanlin was unsheathed!

The snow-white blade trembled slightly, then suddenly flared with light. A near-solid layer of white glow, half an inch long, condensed out of thin air, spreading from the handguard all the way to the tip of the blade!

This sword-glow was as pure and white as snow, completely pristine. It radiated a heart-stopping sharpness, as if it could slice through anything in existence.

Shen Xiuhan lightly swung the sword. Wherever the sword-glow passed, a corner of the stone table slid off silently, like a knife through tofu.

He tapped his toe to flick the fallen corner of the stone table upward, catching it in his hand to inspect it closely.

The cut was as smooth as a mirror.

It was so perfectly even that there wasn't a single rough edge, and the cross-section faintly reflected the light.

“Phew...”

Shen Xiuhan exhaled slowly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“The Longxiang Martial Feast, is it...”

...

It was now the fortieth day since Tu Xiaotian, the Ninth Chief of Chenjian Dock, had proven his blindness.

Just as dawn broke, Shen Xiuhan finished his breakfast and strode toward the Outer City.

The venue for this martial feast was set along the banks of Cloudwater Lake.

By the shore, three arenas, each about ten feet high, had already been erected.

The arenas used sturdy pine wood for pillars, with the platforms covered in tung wood planks and secured with raw hemp ropes.

At each corner, an apricot-yellow flag was planted, embroidered with the claw-baring head of a Bi'an.

It was none other than the flag of the Longxiang Army!

The shallow banks were already packed with a dense crowd of people.

Martial artists with sabers and swords slung over their backs, wealthy merchants dressed in fine silks and satins, commoners looking to enjoy the spectacle, and the endless cries of street vendors selling food filled the air.

“Steamed buns! Get your piping hot steamed buns from Widow Niu of South Street!”

“Tanghulu! Three copper coins a skewer!”

“Herbal tea! Try the Chen family's secret thirst-quenching herbal tea by the bridge!”

As soon as Shen Xiuhan squeezed through the crowd, his eyes swept around and spotted a dozen or so disciples from the Mei Courtyard gathered on a high slope.

Leading them were none other than Zuo Guangshu and Jiang Qinghong, with Xu Chuan, Xiang Yunting, and Shen Huai also among the group.

“Junior Brother Shen, over here!”

Zuo Guangshu was sharp-eyed; he folded his paper fan and waved it high.

Shen Xiuhan walked over and greeted them, “Greetings, Senior Brothers and Senior Sisters.”

After exchanging pleasantries, Shen Xiuhan learned of the roster representing the Mei Courtyard in the martial feast.

For the Anjin track, only Jiang Qinghong would be competing.

On the Mingjin side, besides Shen Xiuhan and Xu Chuan, both Xiang Yunting and Shen Huai had registered as well, even though they were still lingering at the Bone Tempering stage.

Their faces were slightly tense, clearly lacking confidence.

They didn't expect to achieve any great results; they were simply treating this as an opportunity to broaden their horizons and gain some practical experience.

After chatting for a bit, Shen Xiuhan looked around and asked, “Has Master arrived yet?”

“She has.”

Jiang Qinghong pointed into the distance.

Shen Xiuhan followed her gaze.

Under the deep shade of several old locust trees near the shore, a spacious viewing platform had been built separately.

The platform was constructed from whole logs, its surface covered in red felt, with vermilion railings lining the sides. A blue fabric canopy stretched overhead to block out the scorching sun.

Surrounding the high platform, armored, spear-wielding regular soldiers of the Longxiang Army stood guard every few paces.

The soldiers wore bright, polished armor and stood with backs as straight as arrows, their eyes scanning the surroundings like hawks. They formed an impenetrable wall of defense, preventing any ordinary commoner from getting close.

The truly influential and wealthy elites of both Changyun and Changshui counties were seated there.

At this moment, many figures had already taken their seats on the platform.