Miss Huang, Do You Think I Can Still Be Saved?

Lu Chen got a taste of Huang Rong's legendary cooking.

It was truly stunning—in both his past and present lives, he had never eaten seafood so delicious.

Even though the cooking tools on the small boat were simple and the seasonings insufficient, Huang Rong only made a simple grilled fish, a grilled shrimp, and a pot of fish soup. Yet Lu Chen still ate with lingering fragrance in his mouth and praised her endlessly.

After a hearty meal, Huang Rong cleaned up the utensils, swept the pile of fish piled at the bow back into the sea to return them to nature, then pulled a wooden sword from the cabin and said to Lu Chen with a grin:

"Since you want to learn swordsmanship, have you ever practiced the basics?"

Lu Chen nodded: "I have practiced a bit."

He had found many sword technique tutorial videos on the Main World's internet and collected numerous sword manuals claiming to be ancient secrets. Though he had never found a sword art that could cultivate Internal Energy, he had put considerable effort into the basic sword techniques.

Huang Rong handed the wooden sword to Lu Chen:

"Then practice a bit, let me see how your sword foundation is."

Lu Chen didn't hesitate. He took the wooden sword, set up his stance on the boat's bow deck, and began practicing basic sword moves—thrusting, chopping, lifting, sweeping, circling, pointing, snapping, and blocking—each move precise and methodical.

Huang Rong held one arm across her chest and propped her chin with the other hand, watching Lu Chen practice.

At first she was serious, but as she watched, she couldn't quite suppress the corners of her mouth.

She really wanted to laugh.

But she couldn't laugh.

Hold it in!

Huang Rong strained her little face with supreme willpower, forcing down her smile, and persisted until Lu Chen finished his sword practice.

After Lu Chen completed the set of basic techniques, he looked at Huang Rong with anticipation:

"Miss Huang, how did I do?"

Huang Rong's face was stern:

"Mm, I can see that you've put some real effort into this basic sword set, Brother Lu."

Lu Chen didn't hold back on modesty and smiled: "I've been practicing for three whole months, every morning and evening for two... an hour, rain or shine. I also practice whenever I have free time."

Huang Rong nodded:

"Brother Lu's three months of hard work weren't wasted—at the very least, they must have tired you out."

"..."

Lu Chen looked at Huang Rong speechlessly.

Was that a jab?

It had to be a jab, right?

Huang Rong let out a pfft, finally unable to hold it in any longer, and burst into laughter, clutching her stomach:

"Pfft hahaha... Oh, Brother Lu, don't mind me, I accidentally said what was on my mind!"

"..."

Lu Chen looked unwilling: "Miss Huang, is my basic sword technique really that unbearable to watch?"

He had practiced hard for three months through wind and rain!

"It's not that it's unbearable, it's that... you were so stiff and mechanical... Mm, I'll just show you instead."

Huang Rong took the wooden sword from Lu Chen and imitated him, stiff and mechanical.

She mimicked him perfectly—her little face tense, each sword move pausing as if stuck in a laggy animation, making her look like a doll girl whose joints had run out of oil.

"...Did I really practice like that?"

"Really, I'm not lying, that's exactly how you were practicing just now. I think this basic sword set of yours might have a special effect—maybe if the enemy sees your sword technique being so funny, they'll roll on the ground laughing, and then Brother Lu can just walk over and stab them to death with a casual swing, right?"

"..." Lu Chen stared blankly at Huang Rong: "Is there any hope for me?"

Huang Rong quickly patted her chest to reassure him:

"Don't worry, of course there's hope. Since you've met me, Brother Lu, how could you have no hope?"

If there were no hope, wouldn't my Immortal Realm Journey be ruined?

For the sake of visiting the Immortal Realm, I have to fix this twisted basic sword technique!

"Brother Lu, your current problem... let's not even mention that when you practiced just now, you had no footwork or breathing technique. Let's just talk about how you grip the sword. Brother Lu, even your grip method is wrong."

Huang Rong held the sword in one hand, placed the other behind her back, and looked at Lu Chen with a serious expression, her tone no longer joking, but extremely earnest:

"The way you gripped the sword just now was like you had a deep grudge against the hilt, as if you wanted to crush it—you were gripping too hard! When your hand doesn't leave any slack, and your five fingers clench the hilt with full force, your wrist and arm become stiff. But the sword moves with lightness and agility. If your wrist and arm are stiff like that, how can you wield the sword nimbly?"

Seeing Lu Chen listening attentively, lost in thought, Huang Rong nodded in satisfaction and continued:

"Also, when you strike, you put too much force into it. Every swing feels like you're using all your strength. I know you're trying to be fast, but in Martial Arts, you must never exhaust your momentum. Unless it's the final moment of a life-or-death struggle where you're willing to perish together with the enemy, you shouldn't easily go all out. When striking, you must leave three-tenths of your strength in reserve to handle unexpected changes.

"Brother Lu, every time you swing with full force, not only does it make your moves stiff and leave huge openings, but it also leaves you with no spare strength to deal with sudden changes. Watch me—"

As she spoke, she demonstrated the basic sword technique again.

This time, she didn't mimic Lu Chen but wielded the sword with her own method. Though the simple, fundamental sword stances were exactly the same, in her hands they carried a smooth, flowing grace and a nimble ease.

Not only was her sword posture elegant and ethereal, but when the wooden sword cut through the air, it faintly hinted at a restrained, sharp edge. One could tell that even with just a wooden sword, if she struck, it would likely leave a serious injury.

After demonstrating it for Lu Chen, Huang Rong said with a grin:

"But Brother Lu, you don't need to worry too much. After all, you've only been training for three months. If you kept practicing with this flawed method for three more years, letting the bad habits sink into your bones, then trying to fix them would truly be as hard as reaching the heavens!"

Huang Rong's critique was blunt, to say the least.

Yet Lu Chen didn't feel embarrassed just because she was young.

He knew full well that at her current age, Huang Rong's martial arts might not be overwhelmingly powerful—though beating him, Lu Chen, would be a breeze—but her insight and judgment were top-notch, more than enough to serve as his sword instructor.

So her critique actually put Lu Chen at ease, and he said gladly:

"Thank you, Miss Huang, for pointing out these flaws. Since I can still be saved, I ask that you generously teach me."

Huang Rong smiled sweetly, two delicate, adorable dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth:

"Teaching is too strong a word. But I can indeed help you correct those bad habits."

She dared not teach the sword techniques of Peach Blossom Island without her father's permission.

But the basic stances common to all sword arts—those she could teach him without issue.

"Let's start with how you grip the sword... Brother Lu, relax your fingers a bit more. Yes, like that. Now raise the sword level. Oh dear, why are you clenching your fingers again..."

"Sorry, it's a habit."

"Forget that wrong habit."

"I'm trying!"

"Sigh, bad habits built up through three months of hard practice, rain or shine, are really troublesome... Looks like I'll have to get tough. Brother Lu, don't blame me."

With that, Huang Rong picked up a thin bamboo skewer used for roasting fish. Whenever Lu Chen's grip was off, she'd whip it across his hand.

Her technique was clever, the force neither too light nor too heavy. It stung his hand painfully but didn't break the skin, leaving only faint red marks at most.

This pain-based education proved effective. In less than a quarter of an hour, the bad habits accumulated over three months were forcibly beaten out of him.

Next, Huang Rong taught Lu Chen how to "thrust" the sword.

How to position his feet, how to channel power from each part of his body when striking—she broke down every detail, explained it thoroughly, and guided him hand in hand.

Indeed, for the chance to visit the Immortal Realm, Huang Rong was giving it her all.

Fortunately, though Lu Chen had gone astray and developed a slew of bad habits, his bone structure and comprehension seemed quite good. Under her pain-based teaching, he could grasp things at a single hint and learn after one demonstration. The three months of bad habits were corrected quickly, saving Huang Rong much trouble.

A sea breeze brushed gently, waves lapped softly.

The lantern swayed lightly with the wind.

Lu Chen lost track of time, fully immersed in Huang Rong's instruction beneath the flickering, dim yellow light.