He paused, then added, "But what if I run into an immortal? Forget immortals—even a master like you could probably kill me with a sneeze..."
The old man smiled faintly. "That won't be necessary."
"Oh?" Wang Xian's eyes lit up.
He took out the flying sword, gripped it in his hand, and raised it high toward the blue sky. Testing the waters, he asked, "Could it be that all it takes to wield this sword is courage?"
The old man froze for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter.
His laughter echoed through the sea of clouds, startling several mountain birds into flapping away.
When he finished laughing, the old man said seriously, "In the way of the sword, there is a saying: lifting the heavy as though it were light. Once you cross this mountain, you will come to understand what it means to lift the light as though it were heavy. The same is true of controlling a sword!"
"What you need to do now is not lift it, but think of it."
Wang Xian was puzzled. "Think of it?"
"That's right!"
The old man's gaze was as deep as an ancient well. "Close your eyes and feel this sword with your heart. It is not some lifeless object. It has spirit, temperament, and pride of its own. You must make it willingly serve you, rather than force it through brute strength."
Wang Xian closed his eyes as instructed.
The old man's voice continued, "Imagine it as a mountain... no, as a city. Within that city live countless beings. There are streets, houses, and curling smoke from cooking fires. What you need to do is not lift the city, but make it willing to fly on its own."
"How do I make it willing?" Wang Xian asked.
"Good