If Snow Ji had truly learned the Heaven-Bearing Sword Technique, exactly how long had it taken her?
This was a question worth pondering and calculating carefully, because it was bound to become a record in Green Mountain's history.
Jing Jiu had asked Tong Yan to teach Snow Ji how to communicate normally with humans, then come to Snow Lake to set up a formation and prepare to hone his sword. Tong Yan had brought out the bronzes, porcelain, and those books at the same time. Altogether, it could have been no more than a dozen breaths.
No, it should have been even less.
Jing Jiu reached out to take the thin booklet floating toward him and burned it to wisps of smoke with sword flame.
Watching the smoke, he silently thought that Snow Ji had already finished reading it before Tong Yan entered the Chan Room.
His expression did not change, but the same could not be said of his mood.
He had spent years in seclusion on Shangde Peak and Divine End Peak and seldom ventured into the world, but he had lived long enough to count as widely experienced, especially after reading the notes Senior Brother had left behind.
He had never seen, or even imagined, an existence like Snow Ji.
The Heaven-Bearing Sword Technique was Heavenly Light Peak's principal sword art, a supreme art every Green Mountain Sect Master had to master. It used swords to form a formation, its complexity second only to Qingrong Peak's Endless Sword Technique, while surpassing it in profundity. Even grasping its basics was extraordinarily difficult.
How many years had Gu Qing spent learning this sword technique? How many had Liu S sui spent? What about Zhuo Rusui?
How many years had Liu Ci spent? How many had Senior Brother spent? What