After going all out and testing a few more sword strikes, Lu Wu-bing awkwardly discovered...
His meridians, bones, and muscles were actually feeling a heavy strain.
When he thrust out a sword with all his strength, his whole body—including his brain—ached faintly.
One or two such strikes were no great problem, but if he made eight or ten, or even dozens of full-force thrusts, he would very likely tear his meridians and flesh, hurting the enemy and himself alike.
When practicing swordsmanship, he could hold back some internal energy and strength, so it did not matter much.
But in battle, he could not leisurely wield his sword, especially against powerful enemies. Once he went all out, his physical body could no longer quite bear it.
"It should be that my own condition is unworthy of such a high-level combat technique. Could it be that after fighting a powerful enemy in the future, I'll still need to spend some time recovering from my injuries?"
Thinking of recovering from injuries.
Lu Wu-bing recalled his father, Lu Changfeng, from that day.
Back then, when he had crossed swords with Life-Severing Sword Lu Zhongkui, he had taken a palm strike from the other man. The surging threefold force had pierced straight into his muscles, bones, organs, and bowels.
His injuries had looked terribly severe.
Yet what happened? After returning home, he had merely lain down for one hour before getting back on his feet.
After treating his injuries for one night, by the next day he had nearly recovered completely, as though he had never been hurt.
"Could it be that our family's Six Yang Divine Needles technique has some wondrous use? How come I never learned it?"
At that thought, Lu Wu-bing gave a soundless, bitter laugh.
Before he had transmigrated—before he had seen through the mystery of the womb—the original owner of this body had been a sixteen-year-old wastrel.
He was half-hearted about learning anything, loafing around all day and enjoying life.
He had lived in utter comfort.
Cultivating the family sword art, practicing acupuncture to treat illnesses—he had never taken any of it to heart.
At most, he would take a look and give it a try, only to cast it to the back of his mind afterward. How could he possibly have mastered any exquisite needle technique?
Lu Changfeng had not failed to teach him.
In his memories, Lu Wu-bing even remembered his father darkening his face and producing a rattan cane as thick as a child's arm to frighten him, even shedding tears as he begged him to learn.
In the end, it had all been useless.
After all these years, his Six Yang Divine Needles could only be considered barely initiated...
"Pah, pah! That wasn't me at all, alright?" The scenes in his memories made Lu Wu-bing sweat with shame as well.
What a blissful life it had been.
Sadly, once gone, it would never return.
From his past life to this one, if a person wished to choose the life they wanted and say no to certain lives they disliked, it ultimately still depended on strength.
Without reaching a certain height, one would forever be chained by worldly toil, unable to gain freedom.
To break free of the shackles and seize one's own fate in one's hands, there could only be the sword in one's palm and the will in one's heart.
Thus, every choice in life had in fact already determined its outcome.
Looking at the longsword in his hand, Lu Wu-bing quietly gritted his teeth. The sword resonance that had just formed in his mind became a little clearer still.
The violent killing intent hidden deep in his heart had sunk into its depths. Unless he paid close attention, it had already become difficult to detect.
"It is still a hidden danger. No wonder Grandfather's family precept was that it must not even be looked at.
"He must have known that once one took a single glance, even without cultivating it, one would never escape it for the rest of one's life."
For now, he could still rely on the Small Clear Sound Mantra that little Princess Ji Wenxiu had taught him to suppress it.
If he continued allowing this desire and emotion to grow stronger, whether he could suppress it again remained unknown.
But then again.
After killing Peaceful Axe Song Zhong and Yin-Yang Monk, then absorbing that unknown mist of light, Lu Wu-bing felt that his spiritual power had grown considerably stronger.
Not only could he hold out for one extra hour while cultivating his internal art.
When using White Rainbow Pierces the Sun at full power, his control over strength had also become far more refined.
Only in this way could he keep his body in a state on the verge of breaking but not yet broken, rather than suffering injuries to all five organs with a single thrust.
"Besides, I can also feel that my body's foundation has become much stronger, and my qi and blood more vigorous. But that is devouring spirits and consuming souls..."
Though there were many benefits, the single drawback—losing one's heart and mind—made all of Lu Wu-bing's hesitation cease to be hesitation.
"This wicked sword art is best left unpracticed if possible, unless I find a way to eradicate its flaw at the root."
Cold Moon Fairy was one path.
Since his grandfather had cultivated it successfully back then and suffered no major problems afterward, he did not know what method the old man had used. He would go down the mountain first and ask his father.
His parents must surely be worrying about him by now, and Lu Wu-bing could not help feeling as though arrows had sprouted beneath his feet, eager to return home.
He intended to find his master's wife, tell her about it, and go down the mountain for a trip.
"With my current level of swordsmanship, as long as I am somewhat careful, protecting myself should basically not be a problem."
After pondering for a while.
Once Lu Wu-bing had bathed, eaten breakfast in the dining hall, and slung his packed bundle over his back, he went to Celestial Star Hall to find Qin Huaiying.
"Is that Senior Brother Lu? You have come to pay your respects to Master's wife, haven't you?"
A little girl of only eleven or twelve covered her mouth and giggled. Shyly, she looked Lu Wu-bing up and down, her eyes unable to move away from him.
"What should I call you, Junior Sister?"
Over the past few days, whenever Lu Wu-bing went to the dining hall to eat, some ordinary male and female disciples would always discuss him in whispers nearby, occasionally sneaking glances at him.
He did not know what news they had heard.
Or perhaps the fact that Sect Master Ouyang Zheng had taken another personal disciple after so many years had made everyone especially curious.
The lower-ranking disciples had secretly discussed it among themselves.
There was nothing improper about that.
Lu Wu-bing even felt as though he had returned to his school days in his previous life.
Toward these "junior boys and girls," he merely offered a gentle smile, setting off wave after wave of shrieks.
He was anxious to practice his swordsmanship and was hardly bored enough to chat with ordinary disciples. At this moment, he did not even know the name of the female disciple before him.
"Senior Brother Lu can just call me Xiao Su. My name is Su Mei."
The little girl seemed especially timid. After softly answering, she hurriedly added, "Senior Brother, please wait here a moment. Shall I go announce you?"
That was the rear courtyard, and it was not very appropriate for male disciples to enter directly.
"No need. Xiao Su, go about your business."
A streak of yellow shot out from the rear courtyard like the wind.
Her robes fluttered.
A sweet fragrance rushed toward him...
Before she had even steadied herself, she smiled in delighted surprise. "Little Junior Brother, you finally decided to come out of that courtyard. We have not practiced swordsmanship together for several days—Senior Sister's hands are itching."
As she spoke, she moved to draw her sword.
"Wait."
Lu Wu-bing hurriedly stopped her, his expression turning solemn. "Senior Sister, your injuries have not fully healed yet. There will be plenty of time to practice swordsmanship later; there is no need to rush over this little while."
His spiritual power was now even keener.
He could tell that although Ouyang Lan had improved considerably, she was still weary in spirit and weak in qi, her face so pale there was scarcely any color in it.
Clearly, the aftereffects of using Yaoguang Scatter's killing move last time had not yet been completely cleared away.
At that thought, Lu Wu-bing felt that this time, he truly needed to properly study the Six Yang Divine Needles' unique acupuncture art.
There was a master physician sitting right at home, yet he had not known to learn from him. It was simply begging for food while guarding a mountain of gold.
"Are you worried about Senior Sister? Such a minor injury is not worth mentioning. I will recover soon enough.
"Eh, why are you carrying a bundle? Are you going down the mountain?"
Ouyang Lan habitually boasted a little, then noticed the bundle on Lu Wu-bing's shoulder. In the blink of an eye, she became somewhat dejected.
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