Leaving the Pass

After leaving behind some inexplicable words, Lady Jiang departed the mountain to attend to her own tasks. Over the past few days, aside from diligently practicing the art of talismanic swordplay, Chu Liang had also been working on a few other things.

A sharp whistling sound split the air—a crescent-shaped beam of azure light shot past, carving deep furrows into the mountainside and forest wherever it grazed, leaving behind gashes that resembled chasms. In the blink of an eye, the azure blade had traversed the entire Silver Sword Peak.

Bang!

At last, just as it was about to leave Silver Sword Peak, the azure light slammed into a sheer cliff, emitting a muffled thud. Chu Liang leaped nimbly away, narrowly avoiding crashing into the rock face himself.

“That was intense…”

He straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow, his heart still racing from the harrowing flight. The azure leaf, still embedded in the cliff, continued to sparkle with a sharp, whistling light. Chu Liang raised his hand and summoned it back, running his fingers along the razor-sharp edge.

Even ordinary flying swords couldn’t compare to this blade’s keen edge.

He had to admit, when it came to forging artifacts, Wen Yulong was a true genius—though his way of thinking was certainly unconventional. The things he created were always a little strange, but his words often carried a ring of truth.

After Wen Yulong had explained the intricacies of manipulating spiritual sense, Chu Liang had pondered the matter deeply and discovered genuine wisdom in it.

Cultivators nowadays focused solely on increasing their cultivation and expanding their spiritual sense, rarely paying attention to finesse.

Take sword-riding, for example: two people might fly at the same speed through open skies, but in treacherous terrain, the one with more agile control would surely prevail.

Similarly, one person might wield a sword in a straight and predictable fashion, while another was nimble and ever-changing, hard to pin down. In a duel, the agile swordsman would inevitably have the upper hand.

Chu Liang thought of this as “micromanagement.”

If you only controlled a single sword, the difference might be negligible. But if you were casting a technique to command a hundred swords, forming a complex formation, then the ability to micromanage would make a world of difference.

Of course, the prevailing wisdom seemed to be: work hard to improve your cultivation, and if someone wields a Hundred Sword Technique, you just use the Thousand Sword Technique—if your cultivation is higher, you can simply overpower them.

That mindset wasn’t necessarily wrong, but Chu Liang believed that depth and breadth in cultivation shouldn’t be mutually exclusive. As long as one had enough energy, pursuing both would yield the best results.

Moreover, micromanagement wasn’t limited to controlling flying swords; it was also crucial in casting divine arts and spells.

So today, he wanted to use this opportunity to ride the azure leaf and train the sensitivity of his spiritual sense, practicing micromanagement.

With deliberate focus and enhanced control, this flight had gone much more smoothly than his first trial—the azure leaf had soared across the entire Silver Sword Peak before he lost control.

Gazing at the deep gash left on the cliffside, Chu Liang realized he’d discovered a new offensive technique.

If he infused the azure leaf with enough true qi and hurled it, it might strike with even greater force than an ordinary sword-riding attack.

Of course, it still couldn’t compare to the sword energy he unleashed with the Talismanic Sword Art.

By now, Chu Liang had mastered the twin runes of wind and fire, able to unleash a double rune sword that was several times more powerful than the single fire rune sword.

After pondering over these matters for a while, he saw a sword light approach from afar, coming to rest near his wooden hut.

A visitor?

Chu Liang stowed away the azure leaf and went to greet them.

...

“Hey, hey, hey!” As soon as he returned, he saw Lin Bei—whom he hadn’t seen in days—standing at his door, beaming with a radiant smile.

Chu Liang smiled faintly at his arrival. “What brings you here with so much free time today?”

“Huh?” Lin Bei replied with a question of his own, “How did you know I broke through to the mid-stage of the Spirit Intent Realm?”

“…” Chu Liang was momentarily speechless before replying, “Congratulations.”

“These past days, I’ve endured arduous cultivation, curbing my desires—on average, I abstained for eight hours a day. At last, I made my breakthrough.” Lin Bei recounted his recent efforts with heartfelt emotion. “Looking back, it’s truly bittersweet.”

“Well done,” Chu Liang nodded.

“But thankfully, I finally succeeded. Now, your buddy here is also a mid-stage expert. We’re finally on the same level again!” Lin Bei exclaimed excitedly.

“Hmm…” Chu Liang smiled awkwardly, “Not exactly.”

“What?” Lin Bei froze.

“Well, as it happens, I woke up this morning and realized I’d broken through as well,” Chu Liang said calmly. “I’m at the late stage of the Spirit Intent Realm now.”

Lin Bei’s smile stiffened, then morphed into disbelief.

What?

Another breakthrough?

It hadn’t been many days since they’d returned from Yanjiao City, and he had only just managed to push himself past that bottleneck into the mid-stage.

Do you not have bottlenecks in your cultivation?

Here he was, preparing to announce his own breakthrough to the world, only to find that Chu Liang had quietly advanced again.

Didn’t this make him look like a fool?

At this pace, a breakthrough every fortnight or so, wouldn’t Chu Liang reach the Golden Core Realm in a few days? Wasn’t that a bit much?

And what was this about “waking up to discover a breakthrough”—did he not even need to participate in his own cultivation?

No matter how he thought about it, it sounded fake.

Yet the aura Chu Liang exuded was clearly a whole level beyond his own—it was undeniably true.

After a flurry of complex emotions, Lin Bei crossed his arms, pouted, and put on a wounded expression.

“Why?” he grumbled, “After all my hard work these days, how is the gap just getting wider?”

The further one advanced, the harder cultivation became. Naturally, the gap between early and mid-stage was smaller than between mid and late-stage.

“Maybe you just didn’t abstain thoroughly enough,” Chu Liang replied, unbothered.

He didn’t feel much about it. With the tireless efforts of the Big-Headed Doll, it would have been strange if his cultivation hadn’t advanced rapidly.

“Ah, never mind.” Lin Bei’s grievance lasted but a blink before he broke into a smile again. “It’s still a good thing—together, we’ll be even stronger.”

“Did you come just to tell me about your breakthrough?” Chu Liang asked.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Lin Bei chuckled, “Of course not, I’ve got something important to discuss.”

“Oh?” Chu Liang glanced at him, curious what urgent matter he might bring up.

“Did you know our Jade Sword Peak’s senior brother came out of seclusion yesterday?” Lin Bei asked.

“Xu Ziyang?”

Among the Shushan disciples, seniority was determined mainly by age, but in the absence of obvious age differences, prowess was the deciding factor. Yet the title of “senior brother” of a peak was not always granted to the earliest disciple.

Only those of exceptional talent and strength were recognized as the “senior brother” of a peak. Among the thirty-six peaks of Shushan, few had someone worthy of the title.

For example: Jade Sword Peak’s senior brother Xu Ziyang, Bilu Peak’s senior sister Jiang Yuebai, Silver Sword Peak’s senior brother Chu Liang… Only those who truly commanded respect could be called senior brother.

“That’s right,” Lin Bei nodded. “He might come looking for trouble with you.”

“Why?” Chu Liang’s gaze grew wary.

Even if he was Wang Xuanling’s right-hand man, he’d have to wait until the Shushan Summit to come after me, no? Chu Liang was thinking about the wager between their two masters.

“It’s because of Junior Sister Ziqing,” Lin Bei explained.

“Oh?” Chu Liang was puzzled.

“Junior Sister Ziqing is the senior brother’s own sister—they’ve depended on each other since childhood, and he dotes on her more than anyone. Ever since she came back from the South Domain Mountains, she’s been out of sorts, downcast and melancholy. If her brother sees this, he’ll definitely get to the bottom of it.”

“From the look of her, I’d wager it’s a matter of the heart. You know how it is—what young girl doesn’t long for romance…” Lin Bei stroked his chin, analyzing coolly.

“On that last mission to the South Domain Mountains, it was just the two of us and a few others. Senior Brother Fang Ting is too old, and Lu Ren doesn’t count. So the one Junior Sister Ziqing has a crush on must be either you or me!”

“…” Chu Liang was speechless.

“Senior brother dotes on his sister—if he learns she’s having romantic troubles, he’s bound to be upset. From what I know of him, he’ll likely come after the culprit. So I think we’d better lay low for a while.”

“Take on a mission?” Chu Liang guessed his intention.

Since returning from Yanjiao City, he hadn’t taken any new missions. Partly it was due to his busy training schedule, partly because he didn’t need to—the profits from a single day selling fruit tea matched the rewards from two missions, so he hadn’t been motivated.

But now, things had changed. Senior Sister Jiang was away for the time being, and there was no rush to practice the Talismanic Sword Art. Besides, it had been a while since he’d fought any real monsters—cutting down little poison bees day after day was hardly inspiring.

Such a marvelous treasure as the White Pagoda was being used as nothing more than a juice extractor, which was truly a waste.

He’d been wondering whether to take on a mission himself these past few days.

“Exactly,” Lin Bei nodded. “I just snatched a mission at South Pass City—it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“South Pass City?” Chu Liang asked, “Why go there?”

Lin Bei grinned mysteriously. “Naturally, because something good awaits us there.”