Snow scattered before the gentle air; ice opened beneath the warming light.
Winter gave way to spring. Having successfully broken through, Xuanming left the Northeast Three Commanderies with the Three Little Ones.
He had glimpsed a corner of the court's struggles and splendor, and that small glimpse told him enough to leave him weary of it. This time, he intended to enter the martial world.
To witness the mettle of its wandering heroes.
To watch the flashes of blades and swords.
They left the cave in early March.
They passed through Fuyao Commandery in early April.
The moment they stepped out of the Northeast Three Commanderies, light flickered, and Xuanming and the Three Little Ones changed their appearances.
Spirit Deer became a mule.
Mysterious Swallow turned into a yellow sparrow.
Xuanming became an old swordsman with white eyebrows.
Ten-year-old Li Zizai became a sword-bearing attendant.
The two people, one beast, and one bird began touring the other commandery cities of the northern lands, stopping and starting along the way.
Sometimes they experienced local customs; sometimes they deliberately joined the crowds to watch martial wanderers crash someone's turf. When idle, they listened to songs in entertainment houses, watching the martial world's battles of sharp tongues, its romantic entanglements, its heroes brought low, and its men killing their wives to affirm their Dao.
Sometimes they witnessed duels between long-established martial masters; sometimes they watched rising young heroes challenge their elders.
They cheered the successes and sighed over the humiliating defeats.
At times, Xuanming also had Li Zizai challenge martial artists—veteran wanderers, young roaming swordsmen, middle-aged fighters, and even female martial heroes—to temper his will, forge his physique, broaden the boy's combat experience, and improve his strength.
Li Zizai did not disappoint him. He took only half a month to go from passively