After leaving the Teaching Hall, Jiang Fa did not return to the training grounds.
He followed the bluestone path toward the rear courtyard.
Steward Ma's residence looked the same as ever. The two crooked-necked jujube trees outside the door stood bare, a few icicles hanging from their branches and gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
The door stood ajar.
Jiang Fa raised a hand and knocked on the doorframe.
"Come in." Steward Ma's hoarse voice sounded from inside.
He looked up, saw Jiang Fa, and put down his brush, a trace of a smile flashing through his cloudy old eyes.
"It's you, lad?" Steward Ma clearly still remembered him and looked him up and down.
"You've broken through to An Jin?"
"Yes." Jiang Fa cupped his fists and bowed.
"Good, good." Steward Ma withdrew his searching gaze, repeating the word twice.
"I've handled the martial hall's miscellaneous affairs for over a dozen years. I've seen eight hundred disciples, if not a thousand, but you're the first with inferior aptitude to reach An Jin in a year."
He stood and explained, "Once an inner courtyard disciple breaks through to An Jin, the rules allow him to choose a suitable weapon from the armory. Sabers, spears, swords, halberds, axes, battle-axes, hooks, forks-as long as we have it, you can take your pick. Once you've chosen, we'll record it in the register."
Then he stood, took a ring of keys from a drawer, and led the way outside.
Jiang Fa nodded and followed him.
The armory stood in the deepest part of the rear courtyard, beside the martial hall's back wall. It was a large building of blue bricks and gray tiles.
Jiang Fa had been here once before, when Lin Feng brought him to borrow a plain saber.
Returning now, he found the same rusty iron padlock hanging beneath the lintel, though a few new cobwebs had appeared on the doorframe.
Steward Ma inserted a key into the lock and turned it twice.
The iron padlock sprang open with a click. He pushed the door open and stepped aside.
"Go in. Look around and choose whatever you like. Bring it out when you're done so I can register it."
A mingled smell of rust and tung oil hit Jiang Fa, stronger than on his last visit.
He stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the three rows of weapon racks.
Last time, he had only taken a hurried glance. Now he finally had a chance to examine them closely.
The racks along the wall were densely packed with sabers, spears, swords, halberds, axes, battle-axes, hooks, and forks, filling the entire wall.
Some weapons had been polished to a brilliant shine, their edges flashing coldly. They were clearly new pieces forged in recent years.
Others lay beneath thick dust and dense cobwebs. Who knew how many years they had sat here?
Jiang Fa walked straight to the innermost saber rack.
More than a dozen sabers lay across it, varying in length and design.
The plain saber he had borrowed last time had already been returned. It now rested on the bottom tier, a thin layer of dust once again coating its blade.
His gaze passed over the sabers one by one.
The goose-feather saber was light and nimble, suited to swift attacks, but its blade was too thin and would be at a disadvantage against heavy weapons.
The willow-leaf saber was lightweight and suited to women. In his hand, it always felt insubstantial, leaving him unable to bring his strength to bear.
The horse-cleaving saber was certainly heavy enough. Its blade measured four feet, and a single downward slash carried tremendous force. But in a place like Black Wind Ridge, with its dense woods and thick grass, there would be no room to swing it. Even on the training grounds, it was unsuitable for everyday practice.
His gaze suddenly stopped.
On the top tier of the rack lay a ghost-head saber.
Its blade was broad and thick, pitch-black throughout, and several times wider than an ordinary goose-feather saber. Its spine was a full finger thick, its tip curved slightly upward, and a ferocious ghost's head had been cast into the end of its hilt, with bared fangs and round, glaring eyes, vividly lifelike.
A thick layer of dust coated the blade. Clearly, no one had touched it in a long time.
Jiang Fa reached out, gripped the hilt, and lifted it with a surge of strength.
It weighed heavily in his hand.
This ghost-head saber weighed at least three times as much as an ordinary goose-feather saber. A rough heft put it at eighty or ninety jin at the very least.
For his current physical strength, however, it was just right.
He gave it an experimental swing. The edge cut through the air with a low moan, like the growl of a savage beast awakening from years of dormant slumber.
The ghost-head saber broke finesse with strength and overcame enemies with weight.
Holding the saber, Jiang Fa could not help picturing the moves of the Cloak Saber Technique.
The Cloak Saber Technique used speed to overcome slowness and emphasized an unbroken succession of saber strikes. In principle, a light, nimble goose-feather saber or willow-leaf saber should have suited it best.
Yet with this ghost-head saber in his hand, he felt an indescribable sense of compatibility.
His Cloak Saber Technique had already reached major accomplishment. He could unleash and withdraw his moves at will, no longer constrained by the saber's weight.
More importantly, with the Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art as his foundation, his physical strength far surpassed that of martial artists at the same realm.
A heavy saber that ordinary early An Jin martial artists could not wield comfortably had just the right weight in his hands.
The weight of this ghost-head saber would let him bring his advantage in strength to its fullest.
With one downward slash, who at his realm could meet it head-on?
Jiang Fa carried the ghost-head saber out of the armory.
Old Chen was dozing against the doorframe. At the sound of footsteps, he opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the ghost-head saber in Jiang Fa's hand, and paused in surprise.
"You want this one?"
Steward Ma frowned.
"Yes." Jiang Fa nodded.
With a complicated expression, Steward Ma explained, "An old disciple left this ghost-head saber behind over a dozen years ago. It's a fine saber, forged from hundred-fold refined steel mixed with cold iron. The blade is extremely tough, but it's simply too heavy. Several disciples have taken a liking to it over the years, but all of them returned it after practicing with it for a few days, because it simply wasn't comfortable to use for long."
He looked Jiang Fa up and down and shook his head. "Think carefully, lad. Are you sure you want this one?"
"This one," Jiang Fa said.
Seeing his determination, Steward Ma did not try to persuade him further.
He turned, fetched a register from inside, opened it to a page, and wrote a few words with a brush. Then he pointed to a blank space. "Sign here."
Jiang Fa took the brush and signed his name, then pressed a fingerprint beside it.
Old Chen closed the register and waved a hand. "All right, the saber is yours. But I should remind you: if you find it unsuitable within seven days, you still have one chance to exchange it."
Jiang Fa thanked him, indicated that he understood, and carried the ghost-head saber back to his room.
Pushing the door open, he set the ghost-head saber on the table.
The blade struck the tabletop with a dull thud, making the tea bowl on it tremble.
He sat on the edge of the bed, laid the ghost-head saber across his knees, and carefully wiped its blade with a soft cloth dipped in tung oil.
Layer after layer of dust came away, revealing the dark blade beneath.
Faint patterns ran across its surface, resembling ripples on water or curling clouds, gleaming with a dim, cold luster in the poor light.
Cold iron patterns.
Jiang Fa lightly brushed his fingertips over those dark markings. They felt cool and smooth, without a trace of rust. It truly was a fine saber.
Old Chen had said the saber contained cold iron. Apparently, that had been no empty claim.
Cold iron was a superior material for forging weapons, harder and more resistant to wear than hundred-fold refined steel. It also possessed an innate chill, and wounds left by its edge did not heal easily.
He wiped every inch of the blade clean, then sharpened its edge again with a whetstone.
By the time he finished sharpening it, the sky had darkened.
He hung the ghost-head saber at the head of his bed, sat cross-legged on the bed, and closed his eyes.
In his mind, the panel quietly appeared.
[Realm: Early An Jin] [Cultivation arts: Mountain-Breaking Stance (Mid Yellow Grade) · Third layer (1/1000), Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art (Heaven Rank, Upper Grade) · Second level (28/3000)] [Martial arts: Mountain-Breaking Fist (Mid Yellow Grade) · Major accomplishment (798/1000), Cloak Saber (Mid Yellow Grade) · Major accomplishment (301/1000), Wind-Chasing Steps (Yellow Rank Upper Grade) · Minor achievement (97/800)]
He sensed the panel in his mind.
Jiang Fa drew a deep breath and began circulating the Qi and blood within his body according to the third-layer formula Zhao Zhong had taught him.
Training Penetrating Jin was completely different from training Sinking Jin or Lifting Jin.
The first two layers emphasized releasing, withdrawing, and controlling Jin, while the third emphasized its penetration.
He needed to condense the Jin within his body into a single stream and send it through his palm, through flesh, through bone, through every obstruction, straight into the target's interior.
The process was extremely taxing on his mind.
On Jiang Fa's first attempt, the Jin dispersed as soon as it emerged from his palm, like a handful of water flung out and scattered into mist by the wind before it could touch the ground.
On his second attempt, the Jin held together a little longer than before, but dispersed again less than an inch beyond his palm.
The third attempt, the fourth, the fifth...
After an unknown stretch of time, he abruptly opened his eyes and gently placed his right palm against the bowl of thoroughly cold tea before him.
He released a faint pulse of Jin from his palm.
The tea in the bowl remained perfectly still, but a fine crack silently appeared in its base.
Cracks spread outward from the center of the bowl's base, densely interwoven like a spiderweb, yet not a single drop of tea leaked out.
It worked.