Master of the Sword Tomb

Zhang Ling asked, "Have you had enough fun?"

Seeing that Zhang Ling's breathing had yet to settle, Yang Jun asked in confusion, "Does the young master have some urgent business to attend to?"

Zhang Ling glanced back and, seeing no sign of the young woman, gave a faint smile. "No urgent business, but I accidentally provoked a madwoman."

Yang Jun said in surprise, "With the young master's great skill, who could possibly chase after you?"

Zhang Ling smiled helplessly. "I can certainly beat her, but since she is General Hou's legitimate daughter, I really couldn't resort to violence and had to make a swift exit."

Yang Jun nodded. Suddenly hearing shouts from behind and seeing that their pursuer was about to catch up, Zhang Ling scooped up Yang Jun and made a run for it. When they reached the courtyard wall, the little chubby boy was simply too heavy, forcing Zhang Ling to push off a nearby tree trunk in order to leap over.

After landing on the other side, Yang Jun cheered, "The young master is amazing! You can even clear a wall this high."

Zhang Ling smiled shamelessly. "Nothing to it, merely familiarity breeds skill!"

Meanwhile, Hou Siyue was left shouting from the other side of the temple wall, "You surnamed Zhang, if you have the guts, don't run!"

Acting as if he hadn't heard a thing, Zhang Ling pulled Yang Jun along and strode away. On the way back, Yang Jun returned the remaining silver to Zhang Ling, keeping only the copper coins given as change at the temple. He knew the ways of the world were treacherous, unlike the simple-minded monks at the temple—especially those who loved to swindle children like him. He wouldn't dare flash real gold and silver outside; if he were tricked by counterfeit money, it would rob him of his sleep, so it was better to return it to the young master.

After escorting Yang Jun back to his residence, Zhang Ling planned to return to the mountain to practice the Mirror-Reflecting and Heart-Contemplating technique. Once the hour of *xu* had passed and deep night fell, it was the ideal time for practicing such meditation exercises, where half the effort yielded double the results. Ever since entering the academy, Zhang Ling had set aside at least two or three hours every day to practice this. Day in and day out, though it was not a thousand miles in a single leap, progress left traces. At the very least, when facing the second rank, he could already see how far the road ahead was. As for the first rank, he could only take it one step at a time, feeling his way forward. Perhaps those who entered the second rank early on could ultimately fail to enter the profound realm, while those who came from behind to surpass them were everywhere. Therefore, the closer he got to the second rank, the more Zhang Ling knew he must not rush for success. Starting a month ago, he had begun to slow his pace, tirelessly asking Song Qingtian for insights into the first-rank realm. However, the other man's words were always ambiguous, yielding very little benefit for Zhang Ling. Still, it was better than nothing; making even an inch of progress meant there was a trail to follow. The mountain path was rugged, but thankfully there was a road to walk. Compared to most Jianghu travelers who could only grope in the fog, he was already much more fortunate.

Passing by the city gates, Zhang Ling routinely bought two sesame flatbreads from a roadside stall. Practicing through the long night always required a bite to eat, lest he go hungry and unable to sleep as he had in the beginning, when he even had to sneak into Old Man Li's fields to steal fruit.

While waiting, Zhang Ling happened to notice a newly opened blacksmith shop nearby and unconsciously drifted closer. An old blacksmith was methodically smelting raw iron. Without paying attention to the old man, Zhang Ling instinctively reached out and drew a hanging sword. It would have been fine if he hadn't drawn it, but upon pulling it from its sheath, he discovered that not a single one of these swords was inferior to the blades meticulously forged in Hong Siyan's melting furnace.

The old blacksmith beside him said flatly, "These are all flawed rejects, though to ordinary people, they are top-tier precious swords. They were supposed to be destroyed, and bringing them out today is simply letting a lucky passerby pick up a bargain."

These plain-sounding words carried a startling weight, instantly stunning Zhang Ling. It was only then that he came to his senses and carefully sized up the old blacksmith. Ever since Zhang Ling took up Qi cultivation, his perception of human physiognomy had grown increasingly subtle; yet this old man possessed a radiant complexion and wondrous eyes, entirely devoid of numbness or weariness toward life. For some reason, however, Zhang Ling had unconsciously avoided observing the old man just moments before. Reflecting carefully, he realized the old man had reined in his aura, allowing a pile of swords to overshadow his own presence, which had caused Zhang Ling to look at the swords first without realizing it.

Zhang Ling asked respectfully, "May I ask what divine person the senior is? Just now I drew the sword without asking, and I hope the senior will forgive me."

The old man waved a hand dismissively. "No matter. I said these are all failed creations; if you want them, I can give them all to you."

Zhang Ling declined, saying, "This junior wouldn't dare."

The old man smiled faintly. "Is it that you wouldn't dare, or that you look down on them, holding the second-best renowned blade in the world in your hand? Naturally, you can afford to disdain this scrap iron."

Zhang Ling was speechless in his heart. Why did everyone recognize this saber? How was he supposed to dare show it off in the Jianghu in the future?

The old man calmly continued, "I am Wu Jianping of the Sword Tomb. Passing by this place, I wanted to ask how my grandson is doing at the academy."

Zhang Ling cupped his fists. "So you are the master of the Sword Tomb; no wonder you dare to treat sharp swords as scrap iron. I only wonder which disciple the senior's grandson is?"

Wu Jianping said, "His mother's name is Wu Qing, and he takes his mother's surname. Is there anyone else in your academy surnamed Wu?"

Zhang Ling said with surprise, "I never expected Wu Zhi that fellow to have this connection. I just don't know whether the answer senior seeks is that he is still alive, or that he has let go of the past."

Wu Jianping sighed. "It seems you already know all about this. The events of back then cannot be blamed on Ming Liao; anyone else in his position would have been utterly helpless."

Zhang Ling smiled bitterly, "Actually, I don't know everything. The two figures of Mingtang didn't go into detail with me either; I will have to go back and ask myself. Right, there is one more matter I must consult senior about."

Zhang Ling drew the *Guoshang* saber to show him. Wu Jianping glanced at it, immediately comprehended the situation, and frowned. "It seems you have not gained the recognition of *Guoshang* as its master. Earlier I was also puzzled: the saber *Guoshang* has always taken only people of national distinction as its master, so how could it have fallen into your hands? Now I understand. But if you ask me—I am very sorry, but this is the first time the old man has seen such a circumstance. On this matter, I must also go back and consult ancient texts; it is truly novel. Once there is a result, I will naturally inform you."

Wu Jianping added, "Since I happen to be passing by here, I also want to ask about the situation of my two apprentices. You should know who they are, right?"

Baili Huan'an, Murong Wanxue. The moment Zhang Ling entered the academy, he had heard tales of the two. They originated from an ordinary village, and their respective families had sworn a sworn brotherhood. Born at the same time, the two families shared such an exceptional relationship that they arranged an arranged marriage for them in childhood. Later, when the two turned one year old, Wu Jianping happened to pass by and discovered they were a rare pair of exquisite twins. Such people possessed a talent that geniuses disdained and ordinary people could only envy, primarily because while these two could learn anything effortlessly, they also found everything difficult to master. They could only be late bloomers, yet the path of the sword was infinite and demanded endless years of tempering. Wu Jianping had intended to bestow upon them the two top-ten renowned swords of the world, *Falling Mountains and Rivers* and *Thinking Without Bound*, and even intended to take them as disciples. As luck would have it, however, they ran into Jing Wuchen, who had just emerged from seclusion to travel the world. The two sides engaged in a fierce battle. Although Wu Jianping also possessed the Guiyuan realm, how could he possibly match Jing Wuchen, who was on the verge of becoming a celestial? In the end, although Wu Jianping managed to take the two as apprentices, they were still dragged back to the academy by Jing Wuchen, leaving Wu Jianping—the dignified grandmaster of weapon forging and master of the Sword Tomb—empty-handed of both disciples and treasures.