Plucking Plum Blossoms in the Wind and Snow

Only after Wang Xian ate two bowls of porridge did he tell the three people before him that he had spent ten years climbing the three thousand stone steps on the snow mountain.

There was no divine sword, nor had he practiced the sword!

That was because his master hadn't taught him swordsmanship yet.

Even the three sword stances left in his sea of consciousness by the mysterious woman were beyond his ability to practice right now.

Driven to his wit's end, he finally blurted out, "Master, Junior Uncle, this disciple has climbed the mountain for ten years, and it seems my strength is much greater than before."

The old Daoist smiled faintly. "Spending ten years refining your physical body, not bad!"

Dongfang Nishang asked with lingering reluctance, "Did you really not see a sword?"

Wang Xian shook his head. "This disciple wanted to practice the sword too!"

The old Daoist smiled. "Junior Sister, rest assured, no one is snatching this Heavenly Book from you, but you must teach this disciple of mine a life-saving trick."

Dantai Xiaoxue stared at Wang Xian with wide eyes; she simply couldn't fathom how someone could fail to break through for ten years.

How foolish could one be?

Dongfang Nishang glared at the old Daoist. "I've let you teach Xiaoxue how to draw a talisman, and how many days has it been?"

The old Daoist chuckled. "How can the Dao of talismans be mastered in a single step? She has finally taken her first steps, so she can just practice slowly when she gets back."

Dantai Xiaoxue also pulled on her master's hand with a giggle. "Master, Junior Brother has slept for ten days straight, you should teach him two moves too!"

Wang Xian, after ten years of bitter cultivation, was not foolish, and promptly said, "Many thanks, Junior Uncle..."

Dongfang Nishang said a final word to the old Daoist.

"Senior Brother, remember to have Wang Xian come to the Sword Sect during the spring recruitment. With the various proud talents gathering from all over, it will also be a tempering for him... And by the way, bring back your spirit stones."

The old Daoist smiled. "No problem."

"You've slept long enough, come out for a walk with me!"

With that, Nishang turned and walked toward the outside of the grand hall.

Then she thought of something and added, "Xiaoxue, hurry up and pay your respects to your Senior Uncle, we're going home tomorrow."

Once again.

Wang Xian came to the snow-covered pine tree from ten days ago with Dongfang Nishang, gazing at the snowflakes slowly falling from the sky.

For a moment, he still hadn't fully recovered from those ten years of arduous cultivation.

The corners of Dongfang Nishang's mouth twitched slightly, and with a flick of her finger, a trace of golden light entered Wang Xian's sea of consciousness.

"These are two forms of the Zhemei Hand. They can win you some advantage when you are in close combat with others... When you come to the Sword Sect, I will teach you a swordsmanship stance."

Upon hearing this, Wang Xian was overjoyed.

He chuckled and said, "I climbed the snow mountain in the Heavenly Book for ten years, and learned two life-saving tricks from Junior Uncle. From now on, I won't be afraid of being bullied by others."

Dongfang Nishang smiled faintly. "These two forms look simple, but you can keep cultivating them indefinitely."

The first form, White Rainbow Piercing the Sun: Executed with the fierce sharpness of plum blossoms, the spirit sword reveals its edge the moment it leaves its scabbard.

The second form, Meteor Chasing the Moon: As your cultivation increases, this form combines footwork and stances, allowing you to move freely wherever you go.

Using the two forms in combination meant the union of palm techniques and movement methods.

At this point, Dongfang Nishang said with some reluctance, "What a pity, you didn't see any swordsmanship in the Heavenly Book!"

Wang Xian shook his head. "Many thanks, Junior Uncle, this disciple is content."

The next day, Dongfang Nishang left with Dantai Xiaoxue.

Wang Xian also agreed to go to the Sword Sect in the spring; he too wanted to see what it was like when the proud talents from all over gathered at Kunlun.

Having lived in the Daoist temple in solitude for so long, he inevitably wanted to go out and see the bustle.

In the days that followed, things were just as before: in the morning he copied Daoist scriptures, and afterwards he added practice of the two forms of the Zhemei Hand taught by Dongfang Nishang.

In the afternoon, he still used a wooden sword to write out, stroke by stroke, the Daoist scriptures branded in his soul upon the snow.

Until five days after Dongfang Nishang and her disciple left.

Wang Xian finished copying the scriptures and went out to the snow to practice the Zhemei Hand.

As the old Daoist picked up his wolf-hair brush intending to write a peace talisman, he accidentally glanced at the scene on the desk.

Gently picking up the yellow paper on which the Daoist scriptures were copied, he seemed to see a faint, indistinct sword intent between the lines.

Before he could even finish looking, his eyes fell upon the rows of indentations on the desk, and he froze, utterly speechless.

Holy crap!

At this moment, the old Daoist had a strong urge to curse!

This... this precious disciple of his who had cultivated in the Heavenly Book for ten years had actually, unconsciously, written with such force that his strokes pierced through the paper.

He had even left faint marks upon this iron-wood table.

If his Junior Sister were still here, wouldn't she be scared half to death?

This was far beyond a freak of nature; this was defying the heavens!

A Foundation Establishment Realm youth, without even holding a sword, already possessed a sliver of sword intent!

He had even used a single wolf-hair brush to leave earth-shattering marks upon this table!

The old Daoist's mouth twitched fiercely, and he thought to himself that he could now begin teaching Wang Xian the first sword stance.

Meanwhile, out in the snow, Wang Xian seemed to have found that sliver of intent mentioned by his Junior Uncle.

With a flick of his finger, it was as fierce as plum blossoms; with a sweep of his palm, it was like a spirit sword leaving its scabbard, carrying a cold, biting edge.

He even wondered if, after rigorous practice and when heading to the Sword Sect, he should spar with the proud talents his Junior Uncle had spoken of.

Just as he executed a flicking motion like an orchid.

The old Daoist shouted from inside the grand hall, "Get back here quickly, this master will teach you the first swordsmanship stance!"

"Wa, Master, you're going to start teaching me how to practice the sword?"

"That's right!"

"Master, what is this sword strike called..."

"Hehe, this move is called One Sword No Trace! When struck out with a single sword, it is just like these drifting snowflakes all over the sky, leaving not a single trace..."

"Ah? That powerful?"

"Nonsense, while the sky is full of flying snow... this master will demonstrate a move for you, watch closely!"

Even Wang Xian never expected that his master would suddenly make up his mind to teach him swordsmanship.

What surprised him even more was that after the old Daoist demonstrated it just three times, he managed to find a hint of the knack.

This filled him with exceptional joy and surprise.

The old Daoist said, "Now do you understand why this master made you write in the snow and copy Daoist scriptures?"

Wang Xian chuckled. "Then do I still need to copy them in the future?"

In exasperation, the old Daoist kicked him flying with a single foot.

With an angry curse, he yelled, "Are you still going to eat tomorrow?"

After saying this, he looked toward the direction of the northern slope and muttered to himself, "Junior Sister, I'm afraid you never imagined this brat has already started learning the sword, did you?"

In the days that followed, Wang Xian gained an extra lesson in his daily routine.

He would copy Daoist scriptures for an hour, practice the sword for an hour, and then spend another hour cultivating the skills Dongfang Nishang had taught him.

Sitting in meditation at night was nothing at all.

When the old Daoist was in a good mood, he would occasionally grab a stick and exchange a few blows with his precious disciple.

Beating Wang Xian until he yelped and howled, yet leaving not the slightest trace of injury upon his body.

In the blink of an eye, it was the twenty-fifth of the twelfth lunar month.

The New Year was fast approaching.

At the hour of Si on this day, just as Wang Xian was frolicking in the snow and slashing his wooden sword at a slowly falling snowflake,

he inadvertently glanced toward the wind-and-snow-filled mountain gate.

He saw an old man dressed in black, with a streak of white hair on his head, walking slowly forward amidst the wind and snow of the mountains.

Following closely behind the old man was a grey-robed elder.

He thought to himself that New Year's Eve was just around the corner, so who on earth would come to see his master?

Without stopping the wooden sword in his hand, he raised his voice and shouted, "Master, someone is knocking at the mountain gate!"

Ever since his Junior Sister had left, the old Daoist had activated the mountain-guarding array for fear that anyone would disturb and affect Wang Xian's cultivation.

Hearing this, he looked toward the mountain gate, but suddenly froze.

Unable to help himself, he let out a cold shout, "Old fellow Nalan, what kind of wind blew you to my place?"