Ming Qitian raised her eyes to look at him.
"When I listened to your flute before, Miss Ming, I felt deeply moved," Pei Ye said. "Do people without that talent feel nothing when they hear it?"
"No."
"Oh."
Ming Qitian thought for a moment. "When you cross swords with True Disciple Jiang, True Disciple Ning, and the others, do you sometimes feel that your Clumsy Sword and Intent Sword fall short?"
"Yes. Yin'er is extremely talented, and she's followed a sound path in learning the sword. In pure Sword Chess, I lose nine matches out of ten against her. I can always beat True Disciple Ning, but her Clumsy Sword is tied to her fate sense. Sometimes, even when I clearly have the upper hand, I suddenly feel she could overturn everything... And there's Yang Zhenbing of White Deer Palace, too. I can never beat him in a spar."
Ming Qitian nodded. "Then it's still as I said before: only at the brink of life and death do you show your full strength. That speaks both to your extraordinary talent and potential and to your inadequate foundations. Back then, you'd practiced little and knew nothing of sword theory, which was why I wanted you to lay some foundations at the Sword Cultivation Academy. Now the skilled cook has rice to work with. You should actually be a match for Yang Zhenbing-a thousand words are worth less than one attempt. Let's try crossing swords. Use every sword art you know, and let me see the sword ladder world you've built."
Pei Ye sprang to his feet. Nothing could have reassured him more. He had always been a swordsman without a teacher; the Sword Cultivation Academy provided sword arts, but no seniors capable of guiding him. Qiu Jizi could offer broad pointers,