The stone stele happened to land right in the moonlight.
Its surface gleamed, while the inscribed grooves were pitch-black. Yet on closer inspection, tiny points of starlight seemed to flow within them, looking extraordinarily mystical.
With sword in hand, Lian Youming looked at the stele in the moonlight. Rather than hurry inside, he thought for a few seconds, recalled what had happened that day, and tried moving a few steps to the left.
As his viewing angle changed, the shadows within the inscriptions actually stretched and twisted, becoming bizarre.
It was as though a dead object had suddenly come alive.
Lian Youming gave an inward murmur of surprise and moved two steps the other way. Unexpectedly, the pitch-black inscriptions underwent another kind of distortion. He focused his vision and looked closely, his feet constantly shifting left and right. Before his eyes, some strokes contracted inward while others abruptly lengthened, as though turning into moving human figures, or perhaps into different characters altogether. It was extraordinary.
"What's the trick here? Sword moves?"
Lian Youming raised his thick brows, sheathed his sword, and formed a sword gesture with his right fingers. His eyes fixed on the stele in the moonlight, he imitated the shifting inscriptions and began assuming a series of strange poses.
But before he had practiced them twice, he was shaking his head repeatedly, his brows tightly knitted.
"No! That's not right!"
Done this way, the moves and forms were utterly incoherent-a complete mess.
Lian Youming frowned deeply. Seeing the moon rise higher and higher, he simply went inside and carried the stele out into the courtyard.
While the moon approached its zenith, Lian Youming began examining it carefully again.
He extended his fingertips and cautiously traced every stroke of the inscriptions.
*There was no mistake. These really were sword