Three-Foot Azure Edge

This was Du Chengfeng's first time seeing a weapon that could stand shoulder to shoulder with that heavy longsaber.

Even sheathed, the sword already leaked Sha Qi. It was hard to imagine just how many people it had killed.

But what caught Du Chengfeng's attention most was that this was a sword.

Unlike a saber, a sword had two edges, sharpened on both sides. That alone destined it to be a whole level harder to wield than a saber.

A saber was enough for killing and taking lives. Only martial artists with exceptional skill would choose a sword as the weapon they carried at their side.

"Let me take a look..."

Du Chengfeng, who had still been a little drowsy, instantly woke up. His right hand even reached for the sword without thinking.

There was no doubt that if he sharpened this sword, he would surely obtain the martial arts technique he needed most right now!

But at that moment, a large hand caught Du Chengfeng by the wrist.

"You can't touch this."

A voice sounded before Du Chengfeng.

"Go inform whoever's inside. Tell them a guest has arrived."

"...There's only me here."

Du Chengfeng looked up. Only then did he realize there was a person hanging from that sword.

The man before him was roughly six feet tall, with swordlike brows and star-bright eyes, though a scar ran across his face. He looked like one of the sabermen commonly seen in Jizhou, yet unlike those sabermen, he was not dressed in fitted clothes suited for movement. Instead, he wore broad robes with wide sleeves, giving him the appearance of a scholar.

Du Chengfeng was certain he did not know this man.

"So what did you come to me for?"

"You? There's only you here?"

The scar-faced man was taken aback as well.

"I came looking for a sharpening master named Du Chengfeng. You..."

"That's right. It's me."

Du Chengfeng laughed when he heard that.

So business had come knocking. It seemed spreading the word through the Yang family had worked after all. Not even a few days had passed before a swordsman came to have his blade sharpened.

And he had brought fine merchandise right from the start.

"Just hand me the sword. I'll sharpen it before I go to sleep, and you'll have time to grab some breakfast and drink a bowl of tofu."

Yet just as Du Chengfeng was about to take the sword and get to work, the scar-faced man took half a step back.

After looking Du Chengfeng over from head to toe, the scar-faced man even frowned.

"It's really you? You're the sharpening master?"

"What's wrong?"

Du Chengfeng frowned as well.

"If you're looking for Du Chengfeng, then I'm the only one here. If you're looking for a sharpening master... do I not look the part?"

"You don't."

The scar-faced man shook his head.

"Not at all."

"...What's that supposed to mean?"

Already short on rest, Du Chengfeng's voice now carried some heat.

"If you want it sharpened, then sharpen it. If not, get lost. I haven't even finished sleeping—I don't have time to argue with you here."

"My apologies. I have no intention of arguing with you."

The scar-faced man still shook his head.

"I mean, whether you look the part or not, we'll only know after trying."

"You..."

The words had barely left his mouth when Du Chengfeng instinctively threw himself backward.

A sharp sword edge grazed his forehead, slicing away a lock of hair.

He hit the ground and rolled, steadying himself at once. But before he could fully regain his footing, a flash of sword light stabbed straight for his throat.

Judging by that strike, the man meant to kill him on the spot!

Why?

That was the first thought to flash through Du Chengfeng's mind. He could not understand the situation at all. He had been about to sleep when this scar-faced bastard came to his door. He had openly revealed his identity, yet the other man refused to believe him—and had drawn his sword to kill at the slightest disagreement.

After seeing the memories attached to those vicious blades, Du Chengfeng could understand that this might be another expression of the fierce customs along the northern border. But the question was, who had he provoked so early in the morning?

But now, who he had provoked no longer mattered.

He only knew that he had to survive!

"Ha!"

With a thunderous shout, Du Chengfeng, still crouched on the ground, flung out his hand.

A great spray of dirt, sand, and broken stones blasted toward the scar-faced man, blotting out the sky!

"Such lowly tricks... not worth mentioning."

Facing the flying gravel, the scar-faced man merely raised his left arm. His broad sleeve spread like a shield, blocking every bit of sand and stone.

But at that moment, the scar-faced man suddenly felt his waist tighten.

It was as if two sturdy tree roots had wrapped tightly around his belt.

"Up!"

In an instant, the scar-faced man's vision spun heaven and earth around.

Even after being hurled into the air, the scar-faced man twisted his waist and swung his arm in midair, despite being in a posture where it was nearly impossible to exert force.

The blade flashed, and the longsword in his hand swept out another arc of light!

"Excuse me."

As his words fell, the longsword was already resting against Du Chengfeng's neck.

But at that moment, the scar-faced man suddenly felt a stabbing pain at his own throat.

It was a knife—a worn old kitchen knife stained with dried blood.

As the blades rubbed together, blood seeped from the scar-faced man's neck.

"...I now believe that you are a sharpening master."

Though a kitchen knife still lay across his neck, the scar-faced man sprawled on the ground instead began to laugh.

"I began practicing swordsmanship at fourteen, and have trained for fifteen years now. The fact that you could fight me to a draw is enough to show that you are no ordinary man."

"That's because you suck."

Du Chengfeng narrowed his eyes. He could not be bothered to listen to the flowery nonsense from the man before him.

"You trained for fifteen years, yet someone like me, who only picked up a knife a few days ago, managed to pin you down. With a long weapon against a short one, and it still came to this—your swordsmanship has gone to the dogs."

As he spoke, Du Chengfeng prepared to press with his palm and stab the scar-faced man to death with one stroke.

"That is not how one should put it."

Faced with Du Chengfeng's openly hostile words, the scar-faced man merely shook his head.

"If my training had truly gone to the dogs, then I would not be able to wield this sword."

As he spoke, the scar-faced man looked into Du Chengfeng's eyes.

"Just like you—if you truly were an ordinary man, you would not be able to sharpen blades either."

"..."

After a brief silence, Du Chengfeng was the first to put away his knife.

There was no point in continuing this fight. Rather than engage in a baffling fight to the death outside his own home with a lunatic he had never met, he might as well think about what to eat for breakfast after waking up.

Yet just as Du Chengfeng was about to turn and leave, the scar-faced man called after him.

"My actions just now were offensive. I merely wished to test you. A sword is precious, after all, and cannot be entrusted carelessly. I had no intention of harming you, sir."

With that, the scar-faced man sheathed his sword, then removed both sword and scabbard from his waist. Bowing, he offered the sheathed sword to Du Chengfeng.

"Cui Yuan of Youzhou. I ask you, sir, to sharpen my sword."

Thank you, thank you, Yanlong Jiaosha and Jianshitou de Bu, for your monthly tickets and recommendation votes. Thank you to reader 20170810090806034 for the monthly ticket, and to xiaoxyy, edwqewda, and Mengxiang Xieshu for the recommendation votes. Everyone's support is the driving force behind my progress. Thank you all.