First and Fifteenth

"Since ancient times, who has escaped death? The moment I became a martial artist, I decided to give everything I had to Great Xia, including my life! If my death can give Great Xia a stronger martial artist and its people an extra measure of security and peace, then I'll have died for a worthy cause."

Zhu Ping'an smiled faintly, as if he had long since seen through life and death.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Old Yin grinned, his smile sinister. He raised a finger, and the nail at its tip suddenly lengthened into a scarlet, venomous needle. It jabbed straight at Zhu Ping'an's dark pupil.

A fierce killing intent completely engulfed Zhu Ping'an, plunging him into an icy abyss.

As Old Yin's finger was about to pierce his eyeball and pass through his skull, Zhu Ping'an still didn't move. He simply watched Old Yin calmly.

At the critical moment, Old Yin's finger stopped, right in front of Zhu Ping'an's pupil. If it moved forward by even a millimeter, Zhu Ping'an's eyeball would be pierced.

"Ha ha ha ha! How interesting! It's been a long time since I've met such an interesting young man!"

Old Yin withdrew his hand and suddenly burst into laughter. With no teeth, he whistled as he laughed.

The taut string in Zhu Ping'an's heart finally slackened. He might have looked as steady as an old dog on the outside, but in truth, he was about to wet himself.

"Little Lin, since this sword has set its sights on this kid, and he has the courage to die for Great Xia, why not give him your sword?" Old Yin said.

"Mm... Huh?!"

Only then did Mayor Lin Zhao realize something was off. He glanced between Zhu Ping'an and Old Yin with a wounded look.

"Old Yin, I think I understand now. You weren't asking me to kill him. You were clearly helping him scheme my sword away."

"How can you call it scheming? You could say fate brought them together. Old Yin didn't lie to you. If you don't kill this kid, the sword won't recognize anyone else as its master," Old Yang chimed in with a kindly smile.

"Fine, then. He can have it. Otherwise, I'd have to spend every day chasing this blasted sword around. No wonder it flew to Qingcheng High School by itself that day," Lin Zhao said, pinching his nose. Clearly, he'd come all this way only to lose both the lady and the soldiers.

"Kid, lucky you." Old Yin chuckled and released the sword. It immediately flew toward Zhu Ping'an and stuck into the ground beside him.

"Senior, this is far too valuable. Please take it back..." Zhu Ping'an's throat was a little dry.

"Keep it. As you said, if this sword can give Great Xia a stronger martial artist, then it will have been worth its price," Old Yang said with a warm smile.

Seeing this, Zhu Ping'an stopped refusing. He took a deep breath and pulled the sword from the ground.

At Qingcheng High School, he'd only caught a hurried glimpse of it. Now he finally had time to examine it closely.

The blade was long and slender, gleaming with a sharp, icy light, as if it would cut anyone who came too close. It had no markings at all; only the characters Kunwu were engraved in a bold, flowing script on the hilt.

"Little Ping'an, take this too." Lin Zhao fought back his heartache and tossed Zhu Ping'an a martial skill manual. "I got this when I acquired the Kunwu Sword. It has to be used with the Kunwu Sword to unleash its power. Now that you've got these things, you'd better get a good score on the College Entrance Examination and bring glory to Green City..."

The moment Zhu Ping'an took the manual, his eyes were drawn to it.

"Immortal Devil Sword Technique?"

"Immortal Devil Sword Technique: cultivate light and darkness together. At the pinnacle, become one with both immortal and devil; with a single sword strike, cut through the cycles of reincarnation across the heavens..."

Zhu Ping'an was captivated. He stood there, dazed as if in meditation. But even after poring over it for more than half an hour, he couldn't understand a thing. How were two utterly different attributes—immortal and devil, light and darkness—supposed to be fused together?

"So difficult... What rank of martial skill is this?" Zhu Ping'an couldn't help frowning.

"Heh heh. If this old man's guess is right, cultivating the Immortal Devil Sword Technique requires two swords: an immortal sword and a devil sword. I imagine Kunwu is the immortal sword," Old Yin said from beside him, his voice eerie.

Old Yin's words opened Zhu Ping'an's eyes. Right! With two swords, one for cultivating the immortal path and one for the devil path, he could reach the pinnacle, join the two swords, and become one with both immortal and devil!

He looked up at Old Yin and Old Yang. One was ghostly and sinister, the other sunny and gentle. Weren't they the embodiment of two opposing attributes?

Zhu Ping'an's intuition told him that if Old Yin and Old Yang were willing to teach him, he'd soon be able to get started on the Immortal Devil Sword Technique.

Zhu Ping'an's heart pounded wildly. Then he took a deep breath and dropped to his knees before Old Yin and Old Yang.

"Your student, Zhu Ping'an, humbly asks to become your disciple! I beg you, seniors, to accept me!"

Old Yin and Old Yang exchanged a glance, amusement showing in their eyes.

"You little rascal, you're quick-witted," Old Yang said with a smile. "From now on, you can come here and ask us anything. But we can't take you as our disciple. Becoming someone's disciple isn't like having a teacher at school; a martial artist can only have one master in their lifetime. After the College Entrance Examination, when you reach a bigger city, you'll meet many more powerful martial artists. If you take two old bones with one foot in the grave like us as your masters, you'll regret it."

"Your student will never regret it!" Zhu Ping'an kowtowed again and again, performing the three prostrations and nine bows of the disciple's ceremony.

But just as he was about to bow his head, a force he couldn't resist lifted him back up.

"I told you, you don't need to take us as your masters," Old Yang said gently.

Zhu Ping'an pressed his lips together and didn't argue with Old Yang about it again. But deep down, he had already decided that Old Yang, Old Yin, and the others were his masters.

The two elders had given him treasures and shown him the way. In all but name, they were already master and disciple.

"I've looked over the Immortal Devil Sword Technique too. It won't be easy to get started. First, pick an ordinary sword technique from the Martial Skill Pavilion, so you won't be without a martial skill during the College Entrance Examination. Then have Old Yin take you to the Armory Pavilion to choose a sword to stand in for the devil sword," Old Yang said, laying out Zhu Ping'an's next steps in just a few words.

"All right, Teacher Yang." Zhu Ping'an nodded, then picked a mid-grade, first-rank sword technique called the Nine Mountain Divine Sword.

Martial skills were ranked from one to nine, with each rank divided into low, mid, and high grades. With only half a month left before the College Entrance Examination, a mid-grade, first-rank sword technique was just right.

Afterward, he went to the Armory Pavilion to choose a weapon. In the end, he settled on a short sword only two feet long.

Old Yin was curious why Zhu Ping'an had chosen such a short sword. Zhu Ping'an only smiled and said nothing. He already had an idea.

Looking at the long sword in one hand and the short sword in the other, Zhu Ping'an couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"You rascal." Old Yin rubbed his chin with interest. "Since both swords belong to you now, give them new names."

At that, Zhu Ping'an's lips curled into an innocent, kindly smile.

"The long one can be called Chuyi, and the short one... Fifteenth Day."