Teaching

Yan Ke pondered for a long time before finally deciding to cooperate with Ling Ji. He knew her illusion arts were formidable, so he wanted her to teach the disciples how to face and dispel illusions.

Mount Grand Mystery also had several disciples highly gifted in illusion arts. Ling Ji could properly exchange insights with them and temper their illusion techniques.

After hearing his plans, Ling Ji had wanted to tamper with things while spending time with those disciples, but Yan Ke had long been prepared. He branded a master-servant contract onto her soul.

Yan Ke was the master, and Ling Ji the servant.

No thought of Ling Ji's could escape Yan Ke. So long as she harbored even the slightest desire to harm Mount Grand Mystery, Yan Ke could make her beg for life yet be unable to die.

Feeling the mark upon her soul, Ling Ji regretted more than ever why she had been so bent on courting disaster that afternoon and drugged Qin Xiaoran. If not for that, she would not have been discovered. She would still be Mount Grand Mystery's little princess, adored by everyone!

Chu Moqing brought Feng Wuhen back to Nine Heavens Peak and told him to wait by the cliff. Then he returned to his cave dwelling and took out a pitch-black wooden sword fashioned from Black Ironwood.

"This was personally carved for me by my master when I first took him as my teacher. After I could no longer use it, I kept it all this time, thinking that if I ever accepted a disciple, I could give it directly to him.

It still carries the Sword Intent I cultivated back then. You can study it carefully; it will make it easier for you to find your own Sword Intent in the future."

Black Ironwood was the heaviest wood in the Cultivation World. Even a wooden sword made from it outweighed ordinary blades from the mortal world.

Feng Wuhen took the sword Chu Moqing handed him. Caught unprepared, his wrist sank beneath its weight. Before he had drawn in Qi, he might not even have been able to lift it.

Now that he was at the Qi Refining Fourth Layer, he could lift several hundred jin with ease. Forty or fifty jin was nothing to him.

Chu Moqing summoned the Azure Tide Sword nurtured within his dantian and demonstrated the basic sword techniques for Feng Wuhen. "There are only ten fundamental moves in swordsmanship. Remember them well: thrust, lift, slice, point, snap, intercept, twist, sweep upward, wipe, and lead.

I will take you through each of these moves later. Your task during this period will be to practice every basic move a thousand times each day.

Once your body becomes familiar with these moves, learning sword arts will be much easier.

Besides swinging your sword every day, you must also hold a hundred-jin stone lock in your hands and maintain a horse stance for one shichen every day. This will train your lower body and arm strength."

Bing Ling listened from the side and sighed after hearing it all. "Good thing I'm not a sword cultivator. If I trained like this every day, before long I'd turn into a dead Phoenix.

"Say, Momo, aren't you being too harsh on Little Feng? If he does everything you said in a single day, wouldn't he be worked to death?"

Hearing him, Chu Moqing knocked him on the head. "It's not as serious as you make it sound. I trained like this back then too, and aren't I standing here perfectly fine now?"

Bing Ling clutched his dazed, aching head and stomped his foot in anger. With a snort, he transformed into his Phoenix form and flew toward the back mountain of Nine Heavens Peak.

Chu Moqing ignored him and led Feng Wuhen through the basic sword moves once more. "Starting tomorrow, train according to what I just said. For now, read the books I gave you first and gain a rough understanding of the Cultivation World.

"If there's anything you don't understand, remember to ask me next door."

Feng Wuhen nodded to show that he had remembered. After Chu Moqing left, he went over the sword moves he had just been taught again before sitting down and taking out the books Chu Moqing had given him.

The first book he read was the Cultivation Guide. Since he needed to gain a general understanding of the Cultivation World, this book was the most suitable.

As he read, he completely lost track of time. Only when the brilliant golden sunset had turned into a bright moon hanging high in the sky did he realize night had fallen. He put away the book, picked up his wooden sword, and returned to his cave dwelling.

Food had already been laid out on the table in his cave dwelling. Chu Moqing had gone down to the Dining Hall to buy it while he was reading.

When the disciples in the Dining Hall saw the Sword Venerable arrive, they were so excited that they forgot to eat and all looked up at him. They dearly wanted to go speak with the Sword Venerable, yet did not dare. They could only watch as Chu Moqing suddenly appeared, then suddenly left again carrying a food box.

They stared at the food box with envy in their eyes.

Chu Moqing had practiced Grain Avoidance for hundreds of years and had not eaten for many years, yet he had come to the Dining Hall carrying a food box. He had surely brought it back for his disciple. They were exceedingly envious of that senior brother they had never met.

Seeing the dishes in the room, Feng Wuhen also felt warmth fill his heart. After being out for most of the day, this was the first time he had come home to hot food and warm dishes.

He treasured the meal and ate every dish on the table. Then he washed the plates, placed them back in the food box, washed up, and went to bed.

The next day, he rose at the beginning of the hour of the Rabbit. He picked up the Black Ironwood sword by his bed and went to the cliffside from yesterday to begin swinging it.

Someone at Chu Moqing's cultivation level had long since replaced sleep with meditation. Feng Wuhen's movements as he woke and went out to practice swordsmanship all entered his ears.

He got out of bed and left his cave dwelling, just in time to see Feng Wuhen practicing his sword beneath the rising sun.

The golden sunlight seemed to drape Feng Wuhen in a magnificent cloak. His shadow, cast upon the ground as he practiced beneath the sun, seemed to dance gracefully with him.

"Your strength when you strike is still too weak. When a sword cultivator draws his sword, he must pour his intent into it rather than swing it stiffly. Like this."

Chu Moqing took the wooden sword from Feng Wuhen's hand. With only a light swing, he cleaved a distant tree in two at the waist.

Feng Wuhen stared, dumbfounded. He knew perfectly well that the wooden sword had never been sharpened.

A wooden sword—and from so far away, it had cut a tree cleanly in half. This must have been what Chu Moqing meant by pouring one's intent into the sword.

Feng Wuhen's comprehension was excellent. After seeing it only once, he understood what Chu Moqing wanted to convey.

He took the sword again. When he swung it once more, it was entirely different from before. The stiff wooden sword seemed to gain sentience in an instant.

Every one of Feng Wuhen's strikes was far sharper than before. Naturally, they could not compare to Chu Moqing's casual slash, but for someone who had only just begun training, reaching this level was already quite good.

Chu Moqing casually set out a tea table. Sitting upon a cushion, he sipped tea as he watched Feng Wuhen practice.

Only after practicing each of the ten sword moves a thousand times did Feng Wuhen put away his sword. By then, he was so exhausted that he could no longer move.

Chu Moqing walked over, wrapped one arm around his shoulders, and slipped his other arm beneath his knees to lift him up.

Feng Wuhen's eyes widened in an instant as a torrent of chaotic thoughts poured toward Chu Moqing.

*[Ah! Master is carrying me. I'm so embarrassed, but I really don't want him to put me down.*

*This is the first time someone has carried me since I learned to walk. This warm feeling must be what Goudan and the others called a father's embrace, right?]*