Practicing Swordsmanship

Mu Rongyi's gaze sharpened. "Lightness Sword Style? Is that the sword technique you used against Master Dehua that day?"

"That was a sword move capable of touching the Xiantian realm! When I fought Master Dehua that day, I had already sensed a trace of Xiantian aura." Mu Bai withdrew his gesture, and his sword intent vanished at once. "Though it is only a crude prototype, it at least proves this path is viable."

Mu Rongyi looked into his son's resolute eyes and knew there was no use trying to dissuade him.

He sighed. "Use the prince's manor training grounds as you please. If you need any medicinal herbs or equipment, tell the steward to prepare them."

"Thank you, Father." Mu Bai bowed.

"And," Mu Rongyi said uneasily, "if you truly cannot defeat him... you must leave Xiaoyao City at once. Your life matters more than your pride."

Mu Bai smiled. "Rest assured, Father. Your son knows his limits."

As night deepened, Mu Bai stood alone in the center of the training grounds.

Moonlight flowed like water, spilling over his upright figure.

He slowly drew the Qinglin Sword. Its blade glimmered with a faint green radiance beneath the moon.

"Tornado Rain Strike..." Mu Bai murmured, recalling the description from the inheritance. "Use the sword to draw upon the qi of heaven and earth, transform it into the force of a tornado, and carry the might of rain striking..."

With a light flick of his wrist, the Qinglin Sword traced a graceful arc.

A soft hum rose from the air wherever its edge passed.

Mu Bai's movements grew faster and faster. Sword light flowed in an endless stream like running water—the essence of the first four swords of the Lightness Sword Style.

Suddenly, his sword momentum changed. He attempted to circulate his true qi in a special manner and stir the qi of heaven and earth around him.

Yet the moment the sword move began, a sense of obstruction surged through his meridians, and his sword momentum immediately fell into disarray.

"Not right..." Mu Bai sheathed his sword and stood still, beads of sweat already forming on his brow.

He closed his eyes and pondered, recalling the feeling of his decisive battle with Master Dehua.

At that time, with life and death hanging by a thread, he had instinctively unleashed a sword technique beyond his own realm. Though rough, it had already carried a Xiantian aura.

"Again!" Mu Bai abruptly opened his eyes, and the Qinglin Sword began to dance once more.

A night passed, and sword marks covered the ground of the training grounds.

Mu Bai sat on the ground, utterly exhausted, his clothes soaked through with sweat.

He gazed at the rising sun, his eyes holding both weariness and a trace of excitement.

"Though it still hasn't taken shape, I've at least found a bit of the way in," he muttered to himself.

Over the following days, Mu Bai barely left the manor, practicing swordsmanship in the training grounds day and night.

Mu Rongyi came to see him every day, yet never disturbed him. He merely watched from afar, his eyes full of worry.

On the morning of the fifth day, Mu Bai sat cross-legged in the center of the training grounds.

"It's time." Mu Bai drew a deep breath.

In an instant, a warm current spread from his abdomen through his entire body.

Mu Bai immediately circulated his true qi, completely unleashing the medicinal power of the Nine Revolutions Heavenly Pill. Every meridian in his body felt as though it were being washed by warm water, while the damaged areas healed at a rate visible to the naked eye.

Two hours later, he opened his eyes, brilliance flashing within them.

"As expected of the Nine Revolutions Heavenly Pill!" Mu Bai moved his chest. The former feeling of obstruction had vanished completely, and his inner strength now circulated even more smoothly than before his injury.

Yet the joy of his recovered injuries was quickly replaced by the frustration of practicing the sword.

The sixth day passed, then the seventh. Mu Bai's understanding of the Fifth Sword still remained at the most superficial level.

He could sense that trace of Xiantian aura, yet he could never merge it into the sword move and form a true Tornado Rain Strike.

On the evening of the eighth day, the setting sun dyed the training grounds blood-red.

Mu Bai stood in the middle of the grounds with the Qinglin Sword in hand, yet he did not move for a long time.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his eyes filled with agitation.

"Why won't it work?!" he suddenly roared. The Qinglin Sword swept about madly, and streaks of Sword Qi shot out of control in all directions, carving deep marks into the ground and walls of the training grounds.

After finishing the full sword form, Mu Bai stopped, panting heavily as he stared at the devastated training grounds and his trembling hands.

With a clang, the Qinglin Sword fell to the ground, its sound especially piercing in the silent training grounds.

Mu Bai froze. Slowly, he crouched down and picked up the Qinglin Sword. His distorted reflection appeared upon the blade.

"Is this me?" he murmured, suddenly realizing that he had become unlike himself.

His former composure and calm had vanished without a trace, replaced by agitation on the verge of collapse.

Not far away, Mu Rongyi stood behind a corridor pillar, both hands clenched into fists.

He wanted to step forward and comfort his son, but he knew that at this moment, no words would help.

On the path of martial arts, one could only cross oneself over.

Mu Bai drew several deep breaths, striving to calm his heart.

He raised his head toward the sky. The sun had already sunk in the west, and the first star flickered amid the dusk.

"What's wrong with me..." Mu Bai gave a bitter smile. "The pressure of death has made me lose my usual composure. In this state, how could I possibly comprehend a Xiantian Sword move?"

He suddenly understood something. Sheathing the Qinglin Sword, he sprang up and vaulted straight over the Prince's Manor wall.

Mu Rongyi was startled at the sight. He was about to call for the guards to give chase, but then stopped himself.

Watching his son's retreating figure vanish into the night, he let out a soft sigh. "Perhaps leaving the Prince's Manor is the best choice for you."

Mu Bai raced through the city and, without realizing it, arrived at the city gates.

The soldiers guarding the gates recognized the Young Master and did not dare stop him, allowing him to leave the city.

On the path beyond the city, moonlight flowed like water.

Mu Bai slowed his pace, letting the night breeze brush over his face. The oppression that had weighed on him for days seemed to dissipate somewhat as well.

Two days left... Mu Bai looked toward the mountain shadows in the distance, where the long pavilion of the appointment stood. In the novels I wrote in my previous life, whenever the protagonists encountered trouble, they would go out into the wilderness to feel the grandeur of nature. Then they would achieve sudden enlightenment, and their realms would break through accordingly. I wonder whether I'll have such a fortunate chance too.

He recalled the pure lotus on Langya Xing's fingertip, so immaculate that it contained not the slightest trace of impurity.

That level of martial cultivation truly surpassed even Master Dehua's.

If he could not break through himself, then defeat in the battle the day after tomorrow would be inevitable.

Mu Bai continued onward and, before he knew it, arrived beside a small stream.

The stream murmured softly, gleaming silver beneath the moonlight.

He crouched down and scooped up a pool of clear water to wash his face. The icy sensation gave his spirits a jolt.

"Young man, the night is deep and the dew is heavy. Why are you here alone?"