The Sword Obtained

Moonlight flowed like water.

Listening to Waves Courtyard was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.

Beneath a plum tree on the western side of the courtyard, sword light flashed again and again.

After more than a dozen flashes, the longsword returned to Chu Zhiyuan's scabbard. He had finished executing the Great Avalanche Sword Art.

The yongquan points on the soles of his feet immediately swallowed like whales, primal qi surging upward to fill his dantian.

He then assumed a strange posture beneath the tree: his legs slightly bent, his left hand stroking while his right hand pressed down, as though he were holding something in an embrace.

It was precisely the Dragon Subduing Stance.

Using the Dragon Subduing Stance to circulate the Dragon Transformation Technique doubled the effects of cultivation.

After a quarter of an hour, once the Meridians had consumed eighty or ninety percent of the energy in his dantian, he once again circulated the Earthly Yuan Art. The yongquan points in his feet drew primal qi from the earth like whales, filling his dantian anew.

Then he continued standing in the Dragon Subduing Stance, circulating the Dragon Transformation Technique.

An hour later, he began to feel drowsy.

So he circulated the Heavenly Yuan Art.

Threads of cool breath descended from the heavens and entered his baihui acupoint. His brain seemed to plunge into an icy spring; in an instant, he was invigorated, all drowsiness swept away, as though he had just awakened from a deep sleep.

Refreshed and clear-minded, he continued standing in the Dragon Subduing Stance and circulating the Dragon Transformation Technique.

Great Avalanche Sword Art => Earthly Yuan Art => Dragon Transformation Technique => Earthly Yuan Art => Great Avalanche Sword Art => Heavenly Yuan Art.

Again and again, round and round.

Before he knew it, dawn had begun to break.

He had cultivated through the entire night, yet he was brimming with energy, without the slightest trace of fatigue.

This night of uninterrupted bitter training surpassed ten days of ordinary hard cultivation.

The body possessed an instinctive ability to heal itself and restore balance, like recovering after injury or rebounding after weight loss.

Most of the time, this was a good thing. Yet everything had its gains and losses; sometimes, it was not a good thing at all.

For martial artists, the ability to heal and restore balance allowed them to recover from injuries, but it was also the greatest obstacle in cultivation.

It made the body like a spring and like rubber, resisting any external force that sought to change it.

Ordinary cultivation required rest. After training for half a day, one had to rest for half a day.

During that half-day of rest, the body's self-healing and balancing abilities would erase most of the gains from cultivation, leaving not even one or two parts out of ten.

Yet he trained in one unbroken stretch through the night, advancing in one continuous push and suppressing the rebound of his body's self-healing and balancing abilities, thereby preserving more of his cultivation gains.

Breaking before establishing anew made use of the body's self-healing and restorative abilities, strengthening the body along the current of events. It was a kind of trickery to deceive heaven and cross the sea—a shortcut.

Thus, his uninterrupted cultivation over a single night surpassed ten days of ordinary training.

He felt that at this rate of progress, he would need only one month to cultivate the first level of the Dragon Transformation Technique. Then he could begin practicing the Qi Washing Art and the Dragon Binding Rope.

The Qi Washing Art and Dragon Binding Rope were complicated but easy to master. They posed no difficulty for him. In the end, he would cultivate the Jade Lock Golden Pass Technique, break through the Three Passes in one go, and step into the Innate Realm.

As four maidservants attended him during breakfast, Zou Fang lightly handed over a small booklet, then silently retreated.

After eating, Chu Zhiyuan headed outside, flipping through the booklet as he walked.

Once he had finished reading it, he handed it directly to Zou Fang.

Zou Fang gently rubbed her palms together, and it instantly turned to powder, scattering down into the soil between the blue bricks.

Chu Zhiyuan arrived at the gates of the Prince Qing's Estate.

Dawn had just broken. The lanterns were still lit, the streets quiet, while clamor drifted faintly over from afar.

Jade Capital was a city that never slept. Day and night alike, it bustled with people and resounded with liveliness.

Guo Chi led eight Xiantian Masters, while Feng Xi silently joined them as they escorted Chu Zhiyuan onward.

Chu Zhiyuan smiled at Feng Xi. "No wonder he was so confident. This Central Division Master is actually the direct disciple of the White Cloud Sword Palace's Palace Master."

Feng Xi said, "Division Chief Jiang is the personal disciple of Grandmaster Ye Meng Huan. He is destined to become a Grandmaster as well."

"Ah... speaking of Grandmasters' disciples, I suppose I count as one too," Chu Zhiyuan said.

Feng Xi smiled. "Grandmaster Ye has only this one personal disciple. He is the future Palace Master of the White Cloud Sword Palace and may now be called the Young Palace Master."

Chu Zhiyuan nodded.

Chu Qingfeng was responsible for instructing Heir Apparents and Princes such as them, but that relationship differed from that between masters and disciples in martial sects.

In martial sects, the bond between master and disciple surpassed that of father and son. Chu Qingfeng's relationship with these Heir Apparents and Princes was far from so intimate.

"Young Master, shall this servant go urge them again today?"

"No hurry." Chu Zhiyuan shook his head. "They are deliberately avoiding suspicion. Besides, if we press too many times, we will only invite ridicule and be looked down upon."

The Prince Qing's Estate had always stood deserted, with no visitors coming to its door, because the situation remained unclear.

After all, it had been sealed for thirty years. It was like a criminal freshly released after serving his sentence—everyone would have reservations. Rash contact might bring trouble, so if they could avoid getting involved, they would.

When Feng Xi went to request an audience, the Central Division Master surely knew. Saying that a visiting card had to be submitted in advance was both a rule and an excuse not to meet them.

The Prince Qing's Estate was a Prince's estate. Under ordinary circumstances, exceptions could be made for it, and it could jump the queue. That was the privilege of the imperial clan.

For an ordinary official, even if the Central Division Master did not wish to meet him, he would still have to. But this Central Division Master was full of confidence—if he did not wish to meet them, then he simply would not.

If Feng Xi were sent again, it would amount to shameless pestering. Even if they managed to meet the Central Division Master, the Prince Qing's Estate would lose face.

Face was sometimes not so important, but at other times, it was exceedingly important. Especially to a Prince's estate, it was dignity, status, and reputation.

Once one's reputation stank, one would be completely isolated, making circumstances even more difficult than they already were.

In the morning light, only two people stood motionless in the training ground, holding the Violet Sun Stance.

One was burly and powerful, the other slender and upright.

The sun had just risen, purple qi came from the east—precisely the best time to cultivate the Lesser Violet Sun Technique.

Chu Zhiyuan came before them and clasped his fists with a smile. "Ninth Brother, Tenth Brother, you are up early enough."

The two opened their eyes, clasped their fists, and called, "Fourth Brother."

Chu Zhiyuan could hear that this "Fourth Brother" came from their hearts. It was no longer so reluctant.

Such was the way of the world: the strong were revered.

He smiled. "Ninth Brother, Tenth Brother, do you know the Central Division Master of the Town Martial Division?"

"Division Chief Jiang?" Chu Zhiting nodded. "Fourth Brother, you have not met Division Chief Jiang, have you?"

"Fate has denied us a meeting."

"This Division Chief Jiang is Grandmaster Ye Meng Huan's only personal disciple. He is destined to become a Grandmaster."

"Ninth Brother, have you met him?"

"I have met him twice. He seemed quite a good man, rather amiable."

"Hah!"

The two turned their heads.

The smile on Chu Zhichuan's handsome face had just faded.

"Tenth Brother, what are you laughing at?"

"I am laughing at how naive you are, Ninth Brother." Chu Zhichuan sneered. "Amiable? You actually think Jiang Qiuge is amiable? Heh!"

Chu Zhiting frowned.

Chu Zhichuan snorted. "This Division Chief Jiang is extremely arrogant. He does not put us in his eyes at all. That so-called amiability is merely a mask."

Chu Zhiting said, "Tenth Brother, you are being too harsh. Judge deeds, not hearts. Regardless of what he thinks, what matters is what he does."

"Arrogance that can be seen at a glance, and you are still so slow-witted, Ninth Brother!" Chu Zhichuan let out a cold laugh. "So what if he is the future Palace Master of the White Cloud Sword Palace? So what if he will become a Grandmaster? What is there to be arrogant about? We are Imperial Grandfather's direct grandsons, the bloodline of the Chu clan!"

Chu Zhiting shook his head. "Grandmasters have the right to be arrogant."

Chu Zhiyuan said, "Tenth Brother, aside from being arrogant, what is Division Chief Jiang's character like?"

"...He does not have any real flaws. Arrogant and hypocritical, yet he hides it well. There is nothing to pick apart or criticize." Chu Zhichuan snorted.

Chu Zhiyuan nodded slowly.

If that was the case, then Division Chief Jiang would probably meet him once. He would not directly deny the Prince Qing's Estate face; he would maintain surface-level respect.

As the three spoke, others arrived one after another. After exchanging greetings, they assumed their stances and began practicing the Lesser Violet Sun Technique.

The last to arrive was the Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, with a saber at his left hip and a sword at his right.

He walked up to Chu Zhiyuan, removed the longsword and its scabbard from his waist, and tossed it over. "Fourth Son, it is yours!"

"Thank you, Eighteenth Uncle."

Chu Zhiyuan caught it with a smile and lowered his head to examine the longsword.

The Dark Green Scabbard was covered in patterns of vines and branches, like countless tendrils intertwined. An ancient, weathered aura rushed toward him.

The Silver Hilt bore faint cloud patterns, silver light flowing over it and hinting at understated splendor.

The longsword slowly slid from its scabbard. Its blade gleamed like a pool of autumn water, threads of cold light flickering along its edge as a dense chill rapidly spread outward.

Chu Zhiyuan formed a sword gesture with his left hand and lightly stroked the blade. He felt its icy coldness, hardness, and resilience, and inexplicably sensed a stillness. His mind seemed to settle at once, calm in heart and tranquil in spirit.

Chu Zhiyuan's sword-like brows rose.

This was somewhat strange.

When one harbored a sharp blade, the intent to kill arose of itself.

This was both the nature of weapons and the nature of people. When weapon and man became one, it would stir the violent impulses buried deep within the heart.

Yet upon touching this blade, the opposite happened.

Once martial artists began fighting others, adrenaline immediately surged through them. They became excited, their blood boiling.

This state had both advantages and disadvantages.

The advantage was that such excitement made one fearless, unaware of pain, and ready to throw one's life away.

The disadvantage was that the mind would inevitably lose calmness and reason. Most of the time, one acted on instinct—not thinking first and acting afterward, but with the body moving ahead of the mind.

This sword could calm the heart and settle the spirit. Its wielder could remain calm and think amid battle. On that point alone, it deserved the name of a treasured sword.

He looked up with a smile. "A fine sword!"

Chu Mingxuan said, "I never figured out what mysteries this sword holds. Fourth Son, study it yourself."

Chu Zhiyuan nodded slowly.

Even if he could uncover no other mystery, the ability to calm the heart and settle the spirit alone made it an exceptionally rare treasured sword.

He formed a sword gesture with his left hand and stroked the blade several times before reluctantly returning it to its scabbard.

There were too many people here, making it unsuitable to study it closely. It would not be too late to investigate it slowly after he returned to the Prince's estate.