Three days later, early morning.
Yunlin County City, Thundercloud Martial Arts Hall.
The rising sun warmed the bluestone slabs of the Martial Arts Arena with a thin layer of heat, while the light reflected from the glazed roof tiles made people squint.
At the center of the grounds, Yi Zhanzhi finished his final sword move.
The blade traced a clean arc through the air, its wind pressure lifting a small ring of loose dust from the ground three feet away. The power of the qi-blood third level's Sinew Tempering Realm surged into the blade and withdrew again, the entire sequence flowing without the slightest hitch.
He sheathed his sword.
Yi Zhanzhi breathed out a wisp of white vapor, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. His chest rose and fell twice before settling. At seventeen, his frame had already filled out, with broad shoulders and a thick back. Standing there, he resembled a keen weapon that had been drawn and sheathed again.
Six or seven fellow disciples gathered beside the wooden posts at the edge of the grounds, some squatting, others leaning against them, their eyes glued to the figure in the middle.
"Excellent saber technique!"
A senior disciple at the qi-blood second level clapped first, his palms cracking together as though he meant to clap them raw.
"I've practiced this Thunder Sword Style for three years and still can't put that kind of force into it. How long have you been learning it, Zhan Zhi? Three months?"
Another went even further, jumping straight off a wooden post and jogging over to offer him a handkerchief.
"Junior Brother Zhan Zhi, wipe your sweat."
Yi Zhanzhi accepted the handkerchief and casually wiped his temples twice, a faint curve at the corners of his mouth. His expression was hardly ostentatious, but