"Fellow Daoist Duan moved up to the roof?"
Zhou You decided to go up and take a look.
He leaned out, grabbed the eaves, and hauled himself onto the roof.
Duan Yuxian stood quietly in the moonlight with her spirit sword held before her chest, like a stone statue that had stood in a temple for a thousand years.
Suddenly, she moved. Her spirit sword flashed like a fluttering butterfly. She was immersed in her own world, where nothing existed but one sword and one person.
Duan Yuxian's movements shifted endlessly, their fluid grace concealing a deadly edge. She reminded Zhou You of Xiang Zhuang's sword dance from his language textbook. Even an amateur like him could tell this sword art was extraordinary.
This was the True Martial Sword Art so highly praised in the thread debating whether Duan Yuxian or Su Tingxue was stronger, though few people had ever seen Duan Yuxian perform it.
Zhou You felt ashamed by comparison. Duan Yuxian was still cultivating this late at night, while all he had wanted was to come home and browse the forum.
And to think he had suspected Duan Yuxian of hiding in his room and turning on the air conditioner. Of course, she came from a prestigious sect and would never do something like that. He had judged an honorable person by his own petty standards.
"Fellow Daoist Zhou?" Seeing Zhou You, Duan Yuxian twirled her sword and drew it behind her back.
"Still cultivating this late, Fellow Daoist Duan?"
Duan Yuxian supported the sword hilt with two fingers and flicked it upward. The spirit sword spun twice in the air before landing neatly in the guitar case.
"I had nothing to do, so I was just practicing a little. It's a habit I picked up at the