That night.
The main hall of the Shu Mountain Sword Sect.
The hall was brightly lit, and the banquet was ready.
The table in the center was laden with specialties of the Shu Region-spicy rabbit head, lantern-shadow beef, boiled fish, and several jars of the Sword Sect's own "One Sword Frost." The rich aroma of wine could be smelled from far away.
Shen Lingyue sat in the host's seat, with Lu Changfeng in the guest's seat. Xu Yuanzhi, Liu Qianfan, Wang Maozhong, and the others took their places in turn. Outside the hall, several dozen Sword Sect disciples had also set out banquet tables. Cups and wine tallies crossed amid a lively bustle.
Shen Lingyue raised his cup, stood, and bowed solemnly to Lu Changfeng.
"Sir, you saved my son's life and rid Bashu of this great scourge. I have no way to repay you-this cup is to you."
He drained it in one gulp.
Lu Changfeng raised his cup in return. "You're too kind, Sect Master."
The two drank together, and the atmosphere in the hall immediately grew warmer.
Liu Qianfan rose to offer a toast, his gaze ardent. "Sir, your mastery of the Sword Dao borders on the divine. You have my admiration. The day you entered the mountain, ten thousand swords rang out together and bowed in homage. In my twenty-odd years in the Sword Sect, I've only seen such a phenomenon when my master emerged from seclusion. May I ask who taught you?"
Everyone in the hall pricked up their ears. Even Shen Lingyue cast him a curious look.
Shen Lingyue's accomplishments were the fruit of the Sword Sect's accumulated knowledge over generations, watered by the painstaking efforts of countless predecessors. Lu Changfeng was so young-where had he learned this unfamiliar yet overwhelmingly powerful, world-shaking Sword