The next day.
The same time, the same place.
After Xu Taiping finished practicing the Sword Flight Art and went down the mountain, the old man standing on a flying sword appeared once more before the cliff face at the Moon-Fishing Pool waterfall.
"Three thousand three hundred strikes? Only three hundred more. Nothing special."
After counting the sword marks on the cliff, the old man said only this, then once again rode his sword haughtily away through the air.
The third day.
Unlike before, Xu Taiping went down the mountain two hours early that day.
This displeased the old man, who had also arrived two hours early but still missed Xu Taiping.
"Going down the mountain so early. You haven't mastered the sword, but you've learned to slack off. Let's see how many strikes you made today. If it's fewer than yesterday, you needn't bother coming tomorrow."
Standing on his flying sword, the old man glided gracefully toward the waterfall's cliff face.
After counting that day's sword marks on the cliff, the old man frowned, then said with a hint of reluctance, "Only three thousand six hundred. And here I thought there would be so many more."
With that, the flying sword beneath him abruptly turned and shot into the night sky, finally disappearing from sight.
The fourth day.
That day, Xu Taiping went down the mountain another two hours earlier than the day before.
As a result, the old man, who had likewise arrived another two hours earlier, missed him yet again.
"This boy, why does he leave earlier every day? Is he going to practice his sword or not?"
The old man watched Xu Taiping bounding down the mountain in frustration, grumbling a curse under his breath.
Then he flew over to the cliff on his