Once you had honed a technique to absolute purity, the next stage was mastery. At this stage, your swordsmanship had deepened. You no longer merely followed the instructions by rote; you began to develop your own understanding.
You were no longer bound by the sword forms, either. You could wield them freely, as you pleased.
Once you had fully understood a sword technique and reinterpreted it in your own way, making it completely your own, you had reached the master level.
As for the grandmaster level, in ancient times, it was called "immeasurable."
"Without measure" meant infinite; "measure" meant to gauge. At this stage, you broke through the original limits of the sword technique, turning the rotten into the miraculous and carrying your swordsmanship into a much wider realm.
Simply put, if a sword technique had a maximum level of ten, then beginner level was lv1–lv3, proficiency was lv4–lv6, mastery was lv7–lv9, and master level was lv10. As for grandmaster level, that was lv11–lv???.
How high you could climb depended on the practitioner's talent and opportunities.
For ordinary people, master-level swordsmanship was the limit of what hard work could achieve. Diligence could make up for a lack of talent, but reaching grandmaster level took more than simple diligence.
Below grandmaster, you could still surpass the limits of your natural talent through years of practice—for example, by spending your entire life training in a single sword technique. But grandmaster was a qualitative leap. You either needed exceptional talent or extraordinary fortune. Hard work alone could not make up the difference.
Now that the instructor had personally confirmed Zhao Cheng's swordsmanship had reached the proficient level, a small commotion naturally broke out.
It wasn't that they hadn't noticed Zhao Cheng's progress lately. They simply hadn't expected him to have improved so much.
Everything was relative. Half a year ago, he had been keeping his head down, but now he had suddenly outstripped them by an entire level. And since he was their classmate, it was hard not to feel a little sour.
It was like schoolwork. If one student had always been top of the class, everyone would take it for granted. But if some underachiever suddenly became the class's top student without warning, everyone's emotions would flare up at once.
"Would you be interested in joining Qingyuan's Kendo Class?"
The instructor asked with a smile.
He had naturally heard the students' chatter. He merely smiled knowingly; it was a good thing. Competition spurred progress.
His public "praise" had perhaps been meant to spur the students on.
If it could inspire another "Zhao Cheng," that would be a wonderful outcome.
Actually, the student he'd had the highest hopes for in this class was the big guy, Zhou Yu. Unfortunately, Zhou Yu was too laid-back. He had talent, but he didn't work hard enough.
It wasn't that he was unwilling; he simply didn't try hard enough. He lacked resolve, and so his swordsmanship had never quite made it through the door.
For a teacher like him, guiding an outstanding student was undoubtedly something to be proud of.
If he hadn't wanted to teach and guide the young, he wouldn't have taken on students. If he truly wanted to make money, swordsmen had no shortage of ways to do so. Plenty of jobs paid far better than teaching.
At the instructor's words, the area around them fell abruptly silent.
Qingyuan's Kendo Class was part of a special track, not a regular class.
Joining the Kendo Class didn't mean Zhao Cheng would leave his current class. It meant receiving extra swordsmanship instruction and additional resources after class.
In all of Xiangnan City, Qingyuan was the only school with something like a Kendo Class.
Naturally, the bar for joining was high. The minimum requirement was proficient swordsmanship, and even that was only one of the conditions. More important than anything else, the student needed a recommendation from an instructor.
In short, Kendo Class students all had at least proficient swordsmanship, but not every student with proficient swordsmanship was a member of the Kendo Class.
The seemingly unfair rule existed mainly because resources were limited. And the resource in question wasn't material goods, but instructors.
Though it was called a class, the Kendo Class was actually one instructor teaching a few students.
It was similar to the advisor system for master's and doctoral students.
An instructor's recommendation was essentially the instructor choosing to take on a student.
Naturally, instructors who were enthusiastic about teaching took on more students, while the more laid-back ones took on fewer.
Qingyuan Middle School hadn't been around for long, and it was in a small town, so it didn't have many promising students. Still, after four years, there were a few whose swordsmanship had reached the proficient level. Not every one of them had an instructor willing to take them on.
Swordsmanship depended on talent, but even more on character. Talent determined how quickly you improved, but character determined how far you could ultimately go.
There were plenty of students with excellent talent but terrible character. Their potential was limited. They might improve rapidly at first, only to hit a wall later.
The instructor had invited Zhao Cheng because he'd already recognized how steady Zhao Cheng's mind was. At his age, that was exceptionally rare, and it made him a promising prospect in the eyes of many teachers.
They weren't afraid of a lack of talent. What they feared was poor character and ill intent. Taking on a student like that would bring trouble, not blessings.
After a brief silence, another uproar broke out. The scene was like still being in school while the classmate beside you, who had never stood out, suddenly graduated early—and, on top of that, you heard he'd been admitted straight into a graduate program.
Meanwhile, you were nowhere near graduating, and getting into a graduate program was nothing but a pipe dream.
At the invitation, Zhao Cheng felt a stir in his heart. Fortunately, he had been reborn, so he wasn't a real high schooler. On top of that, half a year of cultivation and breathwork had given him a measure of calm. He faced the situation without fluster or embarrassment, replying unhurriedly, "I'm very interested!"
As soon as Zhao Cheng finished speaking, someone called out, "Teacher Wu, let me recommend myself! You're taking one student anyway, so why not take two and accept me as well?"
Wu Nian wasn't upset. He smiled and replied, "If you can bring your swordsmanship up to the proficient level within three months, I'll take you on."
"Zhou Yu, do you have confidence?"
After asking, Wu Nian didn't wait for Zhou Yu to answer. He continued, "A real man can't say he can't do it—especially not in front of all these female classmates."
Even though Zhou Yu wasn't particularly thin-skinned, he was still young, and his skin wasn't quite thick enough. His ears promptly turned red. He put on a brave face. "I can do it. I definitely can!"
"Teacher Wu, just wait for the tea I'll offer you in thanks for taking me as your student."
Hearing this, everyone burst out laughing.
That little exchange eased the atmosphere.
"All right, everyone, take a break and do as you like. If you have any questions, you can come ask me."
Wu Nian clapped his hands and spoke in a serious tone.
A full Kendo Class session lasted an hour and forty minutes. From changing clothes and sitting quietly to now, they had used up less than an hour.