Chapter 40

Jiang Mu Ming returned his sword to its sheath and spoke softly.

Yet such a simple statement

caused an uproar among the crowd below. The poem was indeed excellent, but the problem was—what could anyone possibly glean from it in just one hour?

"Second Mister, you must be joking! This poem is just a poem!"

"That's right, Second Mister. How is one hour enough?"

"Second Mister, don't try to fool us. How would we even know if someone else really understood something from it?"

Below the stage, the crowd voiced their discontent.

After all, comprehension was something utterly intangible.

Invisible and untouchable!

"All of you, shut up!"

Young Master Liu Yue slapped the armrest, and a gust of wind rose.

Beneath his bamboo hat, a glimpse of his peerless face appeared.

He spoke: "The Academy Grand Examination is not for you to question!"

"We will all discern who has truly understood and who is faking it!"

"There will be no room for deception!"

Jiang Mu Ming turned and sat down.

He took a sip of tea.

Then said slowly: "I know exactly what is and isn't in this poem."

"Don't try any tricks."

This poem was no ordinary verse. It contained the Martial Intent that Jiang Mu Ming had comprehended from countless martial arts.

As long as the examinees had sufficient insight, they would surely be able to grasp a Martial Intent of their own from it!

Those who understood would, in time, see their skills soar!

However, this poem had not fully fused Jiang Mu Ming's Martial Intent into a unique one of its own.

Still, it was more than enough for this grand examination.

"Come on, hurry it up."

Lei Mengsha shrugged and said casually: "You know, the clock's already ticking."

"Oh, and bathroom breaks count too!"

The crowd grew even more flustered.

Many became like headless flies. No matter how exquisite the poem on the wall or how fine the calligraphy, it didn't look like it concealed any martial arts secrets at all.

Was this really not just nonsense to mess with them?

Could anyone actually comprehend something from this?!

But just then, someone had already stepped out from the crowd.

With a leap, he landed on the Qianjin Platform.

"I am Ye Dingzhi. I watched Second Mister inscribe the poem and have gained some insight!"

"I ask Second Mister to witness!"

With that, Ye Dingzhi drew his sword. His strikes were fierce and ruthless!

Every move sought to take a life.

On the blade, a black demonic aura and a blood-red killing intent intertwined, doubling its power.

Clearly, this was a demonic sword—a sword of slaughter!

Ye Dingzhi studied under Southern Jue's First Sword Immortal, Yu Sheng Mo, and naturally cultivated the Demonic Sword Intent.

And this blood-red killing intent

came from the poem Jiang Mu Ming had written.

Youth must not be slighted.

Those who insult you—kill them without mercy!

This was the path Ye Dingzhi had comprehended from Jiang Mu Ming's poem!

Chapter 32: Baili Dongjun Awakens! Yin Luoxia Seeks to Become a Disciple!

"Not bad."

Jiang Mu Ming nodded with satisfaction.

Ye Dingzhi had indeed grasped something of his own from the poem.

This Life-Slaying Sword Intent, together with his Demonic Sword Intent—

once fully comprehended, it would surely double Ye Dingzhi's power!

[Ding! Imparted Life-Slaying Sword Intent to Ye Dingzhi. Reward: Thirteen Sword Strikes of Life-Taking!]

Yan Shisan's Thirteen Sword Strikes of Life-Taking?

That sword technique—every strike takes life—was the finest killing sword art under heaven.

And it wasn't limited to just those thirteen strikes.

Once the first thirteen were mastered, one could comprehend the earth-shattering, heaven-weeping Fourteenth Sword Strike!

And beyond that—

there was the Fifteenth Sword Strike, representing endless destruction and slaughter!

Jiang Mu Ming was deeply pleased. It seemed that today's Academy Grand Examination would yield no small harvest for him.

"Ye Dingzhi, pass!"

The crowd below was stunned.

Someone had actually passed—and so quickly.

How much time had passed since the Academy Second Master had summoned his sword and recited the poem?

Could it be that this Ye Dingzhi was the one-in-ten-thousand genius?

The crowd grew restless.

One hour—neither long nor short—but to comprehend something from a single poem...