"... Does a piece of your calligraphy sell for a lot these days?"
"You're sick."
"I'm not asking you to sell it." Qu Zhoufu sounded interested. "Didn't we talk about making a fine pair of blades to pass down? Since your calligraphy is good, inscribe a few words on each. Once they make a name for themselves, people will know at a glance they're from our Hushan Sword Gate."
"..." The man put down his book, his eyes shifting. "That could work."
Qu Zhoufu perked up. "Then once I've thought of something, you can engrave it."
The man chuckled. "Don't embarrass yourself."
"If you're engraving, of course I have to think of the words. Otherwise, what part would I have in these blades?"
"You can hold them steady."
"..."
Just then, the man frowned, fixing his gaze on his movements. "The key to the third section is 'depth,' not breathing in harder. You need to try to see something more fundamental."
Qu Zhoufu put away his saber and wiped off his sweat, shaking his head. "I can't see it, can't grasp it. This is probably my limit."
The man's brow creased slightly, as though he disliked hearing that. "You're only just twenty."
Qu Zhoufu laughed. "How many times have I said it? If you can't get past these two saber and sword arts, you can't get past them-it's been nine years since you learned the first move, and you still haven't entered the second, have you?"
At those words, however, the man suddenly smiled.
"I managed it once yesterday," he said softly.
"... What?" Qu Zhoufu froze.
"Perhaps this is exactly where my talent falls short." The man made no attempt to hide his delight. "Pile enough time onto it, and I can just about reach."
"..."
"I heard someone