The sound of swords whistling through the air kept on resounding in the courtyard.
They continued practicing until the sky turned from pale blue to dusky orange, and finally faded into night. But still, their blades danced under the stars.
By midnight, Wu Ming had long gone. Yet one figure remained in the courtyard, practicing tirelessly under the pale moonlight.
Li Cheng.
His robes were damp with sweat, and his hands trembled slightly from the strain. But he did not stop. Again and again, he repeated the sword forms—his breathing deep, his eyes fixed. The silver blade gleamed under the moon, slicing through the night air with soft whistles.
He trained all through the night. And when morning came, the first rays of sunlight touched a figure still standing in the courtyard—sword in hand, robes fluttering gently in the early breeze.
THREE WEEKS LATER
"Good… good!" Wu Ming nodded with rare satisfaction, pacing slowly in front of Li Cheng. "You've mastered all the moves I've taught you so far. Now, there's one final technique. Once you learn it, all that's left is practice—again and again—until it becomes part of you."
He stopped and turned to face Li Cheng. A sword appeared in his hand with a faint shimmer of spiritual energy.
He stepped forward, and the moment he moved, everything else fell silent. His body flowed with the sword as if they were one. He began with a straight thrust, piercing the air ahead. Then he slashed vertically, cutting down with force, followed immediately by a horizontal sweep.
But this time, he didn't pause. As he moved, his feet slid backward in smooth, gliding steps. Every slash of his blade was done while retreating, forcing an imaginary opponent to chase him.
He spun once, the edge of his sword trailing like a ribbon of wind. The blade shimmered in the light as it curved upward, down, and across. The entire sequence was fluid, fast, and elegant—like a river cutting through mountains, fierce but graceful.
His final motion was a sudden leap—high into the air. Mid-flight, he twisted his body and slashed in a spiraling arc before landing softly on his feet, sword lowered.
The wind rushed past with a quiet whoosh, and his long robes danced in its wake.
Wu Ming stood straight and looked at his disciple.
"That was the Shadow Wind Retreat—a technique used when you are outnumbered or overwhelmed. It allows you to counter while falling back. But it takes perfect control over both body and blade."
Li Cheng watched with unblinking eyes, his breath caught in his throat.
Li Cheng's eyes gleamed. He stepped forward, raised his sword, and began to follow his movements carefully.
For the next seven days, he trained tirelessly.
Each morning began before the sun rose, and each night ended long after the stars filled the sky. Blistered palms, aching legs, and drenched robes—he ignored them all. He practiced until the movements were etched into his bones.
One evening, under the fading light, Li Cheng stood alone in the courtyard.
His sword was raised sideways. His eyes were closed. He took a slow breath.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. In one explosive motion, he kicked off the ground and shot into the air. The sword in his hand blurred with speed as he spun, slashing through the wind with fierce, controlled power.
His figure twisted in midair, the blade cutting arcs of silver around him.
Then—crack!—his feet landed firmly on the ground.
But before the dust could settle, he launched backward as if dodging an unseen attack. His robes billowed as he flipped through the air and brought his sword down in a final, sweeping slash.
CLANG!
The blade rang out with a furious hum, echoing across the empty courtyard.
Li Cheng stood still, the tip of his sword still vibrating from the last move. His chest rose and fell. His robes fluttered gently in the night breeze. The courtyard was silent, but the air around him still pulsed with the energy of the last strike.
........
In a house nearby, Wu Ming stood by the window, watching Li Cheng from his room as he sipped wine from his gourd.
"What a talented young man," he muttered. "He managed to perfect those sword moves in less than a month. It's a pity he doesn't have a spiritual root… Otherwise, he would have become a terrifying personality in the future."
Wu Ming shook his head in disappointment and stepped outside.
"Kid, catch this!" he called out, tossing something toward Li Cheng.
Li Cheng instinctively moved. With a swift flick of his sword, the small object landed perfectly on its tip.
"Tch!" Wu Ming rolled his eyes. "Showing off in front of me, huh?"
Li Cheng smiled modestly. "It's all thanks to you, Master," he said, bowing with gratitude.
"That's more like it." Wu Ming struck a drunken pose and chuckled.
"Master, what is this?" Li Cheng asked, examining the object carefully. It was a bracelet, but not an ordinary one—spiritual energy pulsed faintly from it.
"What do you think?" Wu Ming snorted. "Tch! That's an artifact!"
"An artifact?" Li Cheng repeated, his curiosity deepening as he ran his fingers over the bracelet's smooth surface.
"Drop some blood on it," Wu Ming said, taking another long sip. "It'll recognize you as its owner."
Li Cheng bit the tip of his finger, letting a droplet of blood fall onto the bracelet. The artifact glowed with a faint red light before the glow faded.
"Now wear it on your wrist. Let me show you what it can do."
Li Cheng slipped the bracelet onto his right hand.
"Stretch your arm forward, with force," Wu Ming instructed.
Li Cheng did as he was told—and in a flash, a beautifully crafted longsword materialized in his hand.
"This…" Li Cheng's eyes widened in astonishment.
"Now lower your hand."
As he brought his arm down, the sword vanished back into the bracelet.
"Wave your hand," Wu Ming said again.
Li Cheng followed, and five short swords emerged from the bracelet, hovering in the air and rotating rapidly with a fierce hum.
"This artifact contains one main sword and five short swords," Wu Ming explained.
"Wow…" Li Cheng gasped.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Wu Ming grinned.
"Master, this is wonderful…"
"This artifact responds to your movements. Since you can't cultivate, I'm giving it to you. With your swordsmanship and this artifact, at least you won't be completely powerless.
But don't you dare go and be provoking any one if you don't want to die.
Li Cheng nodded, still amazed.
He raised his hand slightly, and the five short swords followed, mirroring his movements. With a sharp wave, the swords shot forward at a terrifying speed, striking a tree branch in the courtyard. The branch exploded into splinters.
"This is great! This is amazing!" Li Cheng shouted, grinning wide.
"Yo—you brat! Why are you destroying my precious tree? Are you crazy?" Wu Ming scolded and smacked the back of Li Cheng's head.
They both burst into laughter.
Before long, Wu Ming left, and Li Cheng continued practicing alone in the courtyard.
He waved his hand again, and the five short swords shot from the bracelet and disappeared into the distance. Stretching out his arm, a long sword appeared once more. Moments later, the short swords returned, screaming through the air toward him.
Li Cheng bent backward, narrowly avoiding them. He twisted midair and landed firmly on his feet. His sharp eyes locked onto the incoming swords, now circling like wild beasts. With a cocky smirk, he charged forward and slashed.
Whoosh!
A blast of spiritual energy burst from his sword, colliding with the oncoming blades.
Boom!
The impact disoriented the short swords, scattering them across the sky like startled birds.
Li Cheng didn't stop. He practiced until the sun dipped below the mountains and the sky turned dark.
At that moment, Wu Ming strolled back into the courtyard and paused when he saw Li Cheng still practicing relentlessly.
"This kid has gone crazy," he muttered.
"Alright, enough!" Wu Ming barked. "Do you want to die from exhaustion? You don't even have a spiritual energy in your body. If you keep pushing like this, you'll collapse."
Li Cheng halted his actions and the blades flew back into the bracelet and vanished