Seeing Zhang Zhaoyang speak thus, Hermit Yanming knew his mind was made up. He turned to Lu Yueming and Tan Feng. "I intend to stay here. What about you two?"
Lu Yueming and Tan Feng exchanged a glance, then stepped forward. "We will not enter either. We shall stand guard here for Brother Zhang."
Hermit Yanming nodded and said to Zhang Zhaoyang, "Then go in, worthy nephew. You remember the incantation, do you not?"
Zhang Zhaoyang said with a smile, "Go straight past ten trees, right past eight, back past six, then left past six. I have long committed it to memory. Is that correct?"
Hermit Yanming said, "Correct. That is it. The Myriad Sword Master truly put some thought into this."
The remark seemed to carry a double meaning, but Zhang Zhaoyang paid it no heed. He checked his belongings, then took a bundle of long, thin snow-white cord from his pack. Hermit Yanming's eyes lit up. "Martial Nephew Zhang, is this cord woven from Snow Silkworm Silk?"
Zhang Zhaoyang nodded with a smile. "Martial Uncle Yanming truly has eyes like blazing torches. It was woven from silk spun by snow silkworms found only in the Far North Frozen Land, mixed with other precious silks."
Hermit Yanming asked again, "I have heard that Snow Silkworm Silk is extraordinarily tough, impossible to sever even with ordinary blades and swords. Is that true?"
"It is indeed," Zhang Zhaoyang said. "Why not try it, Martial Uncle?"
After considering it, Hermit Yanming said, "For Martial Nephew Zhang's safety, I should test it." As he spoke, he took out the sharp dagger he had used last time. "This dagger cuts iron like mud. Can this cord withstand it?"
Still smiling, Zhang Zhaoyang said, "Please feel free to try, Martial Uncle Yanming. When my Sword