This was not only a precious martial art, but the core of the Hu family's century-old legacy, a symbol of the family's utmost trust and sincerity.
That night, Qin Shushen came alone to Lin Xuan's room, her heart a tangle of complicated emotions.
She held a wooden box wrapped in silk, her expression solemn and her eyes filled with determination.
She knew what a momentous decision it was to give the Hu Family Saber Technique to an outsider. But she also knew that Lin Xuan's kindness to her was worth giving up everything for.
"Elder Sister Qin, you've come so late. Is Fei'er feeling unwell again?"
Lin Xuan was sipping tea by the window. Seeing her, he set down his cup and asked gently. His voice carried a strange magnetism in the stillness of the night, making Qin Shushen's heart skip a beat.
Qin Shushen shook her head and walked to the table. She placed the wooden box in her hands on it, then slowly unwrapped the silk.
Inside was an antique wooden box. A few yellowed, thread-bound manuscripts lay quietly within. Though the paper was old, the writing was vigorous and powerful, exuding an extraordinary martial aura.
Time had passed, yet the ink remained clear, as if one could still feel the blood, sweat, and effort poured into it by generations of the Hu family.
"Master, Fei'er owes you his life. I am deeply grateful. Ordinary gifts could never begin to repay your great kindness."
Her tone was solemn, and her voice slightly hoarse with emotion, but every word was sincere.
"After much thought, I could only offer these books on the Hu Family Saber Technique as a token of my gratitude. This is my late husband Hu Yidao's family art. I give it to you today, Master, and