Mount Hua, atop Chaoyang Peak.
At dawn, the sun rose over Chaoyang Platform, filling the sky with purple light.
Perched high above a sheer drop, Chaoyang Platform offered a sweeping view. It was the perfect place to watch the sunrise.
Shi Yongheng wore a coarse gray robe, a steel sword at his waist and thin-soled cloth shoes on his feet. His long hair hung down his back, loosely tied with a length of grass rope.
He faced the rising sun, eyes half-open, breathing in a peculiar rhythm. He stood at the unguarded edge of Chaoyang Platform, half a foot hanging over a bottomless abyss.
After a long while, his breath suddenly caught. His faintly glowing eyes snapped open. He touched his sword, planted his foot on the platform's edge, and followed the blade into a sword dance beside the precipice.
White Clouds Emerging from the Peaks, Phoenix Arrives in Splendor, White Rainbow Piercing the Sun... Distant Green Mountains, Ancient Cypresses Standing Tall.
The bright blade caught the sunrise and scattered cold flashes of light.
Ten years had passed since he joined the Mount Hua Sect. He knew Mount Hua Swordsmanship by heart.
According to his master, Yue Buqun, he was already a First-Class Expert.
Martial artists trained with the goal of opening the twelve primary meridians and eight extraordinary meridians.
Those who had yet to open even one primary meridian had techniques but little power. They did not qualify for a rank.
Opening one primary meridian made a person a martial artist. With fewer than five opened, one was a Third-rate Martial Artist.
Five to eight meant second-rate; more than eight meant first-rate.
Even Yue Buqun had opened only eleven of his primary meridians. Yet he was renowned throughout the martial world and counted among its ten greatest experts.
As