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nTang Dynasty.

nChangan, the Imperial City.

nThe autumn rain fell all night in Changan.

nThis historical city appeared more poetic with the veil of mist and rain over it.

nThe ringing of the ancient bell outside Changan was like a magnificent ink wash painting on rice paper.

nThe night deepened.

nThe autumn rain fell silently.

nA flight sword attached with a letter sliced across the quiet night sky, ripping through the veils of mist and entering the rainy city.

nIn one of the courtyards of the Jiang Manor…

nZhao Wuji’s eyes burned brightly in the night. He reached out and grabbed the flying blade.

n“My Lady, it’s from Luojiang City, most likely about Fang Lang.”

nZhao Wuji glanced briefly at the letter before turning to bow before one of the living quarters. He reported his findings.

nWithin the impenetrable courtyard walls, the vermilion wooden shutters with carvings opened suddenly and the fragrant scent of sandalwood permeated the air.

n“Oh? Luojiang City’s final examination to shortlist candidates for the Spirit Pagoda has ended. It seems like the results are out.”

nA clear voice replied casually from the quarters.

nJiang Linglong walked out from the room barefooted in a gorgeous flowy dress. She stepped on the woolen rug laid in her path and stared at the misty city with twinkling eyes.

nHer face was not veiled, exposing her beautiful features to the open air. She was stunning, so much so that the autumn night was beguiled by her charms.

nZhao Wuji passed the letter to Jiang Linglong.

nShe opened the letter and started reading. She chuckled, showcasing the charming dimples on both sides of her cheeks like pear blossoms in the spring rain.

n“May I one day surmount the highest of peaks, where I could gather a sight of all mountains there laid…”

nJiang Linglong recited gently, her silvery voice echoed in the quiet courtyard.

nAfter a long pause, she kept the letter and tucked away a loose strand of hair, smiling.

n“Lang’zi’s serious this time. The sword is drawn.”

nA white cloak draped over her shoulders. She stood in the sandalwood-scented quarters and stared into the distance with a grin.

nIt was as if she could see a young lad standing beyond the rainy city with his sword pointed at Changan.

n…

nSparks flew from the flaming stove. The boiling kettle made a piercing whistle as steam escaped the open holes.

nFang Lang was slightly alarmed but he did not back off.

nHe was just trying to buy a sword. What was with the solemn atmosphere?

nThe young blacksmith paused the work on hand and glanced at Fang Lang. Tiny droplets of sweat covered his bronze-colored skin. He put down the hammer and walked towards the boiling kettle. He poured water into a porcelain cup filled with tea leaves.

nThen, the young man handed the cup to the old man on the rocking chair.

nThe entire exchange was silent.

nThe old man took the cup and rubbed the lid against the brim as he stared at Fang Lang with cloudy eyes.

nAfter taking a sip of the tea, he spoke slowly, “Wen Ting told you to come here?”

nThe atmosphere was filled with a dense spiritual sense.

nThe hanging swords on the wall started levitating with their sword tips aimed at his sword.

nFang Lang smiled innocently and said, “That’s right.”

nThe elder raised his hand and waved lightly as if there was a guqin in the air and his strum released deep and tranquil sounds.

nThe blades started surrounding Fang Lang’s neck like a chain.

n“Wen Ting promised me he would never tell another soul of my whereabouts… He broke his promise,” the old man said gently.

n“I’ll kill you first, and that big mouth will be next.”

nFang Lang took a deep breath and said, “Wen Ting is my mentor. I’m a student from Luojiang Academy…”

nThe old man raised his brow.

nHe tapped his wrinkly fingers in the air.

nInstantly, all the hovering swords charged at Fang Lang. One of the blades was pressing right beneath his jaw.

n“Old Cui’s academy? You’re related to that bastard?” The old man said coldly.

nFang Lang almost cried. ‘Old man, do you have a grudge against the whole world? Just tell me who’s not your enemy so we can move on.’

nEven though he was panicking inside, Fang Lang had a brilliant smile on his face. He stared at the old man and said, “Sir, I just want to buy a good sword.”

n“What’s your name?” The old man took another sip of tea and chewed on the leaves.

n“Fang Lang. Fang like a square, Lang like a wave.”

nHmm?

nRight after Fang Lang’s introduction, the topless young blacksmith’s eyes fluttered. “You’re Fang Lang? The Fang Lang that killed Lin Yun?”

nFang Lang was stunned. ‘Am I famous now?’

nAn honest grin spread across the young man’s face. “There’s plenty of rumors about you in Changan. The Changan Academy and the Imperial Academy have their eyes on you. They warned if you dare set foot into Changan, they’ll break your legs.”

nFang Lang’s eyes twitched.

nThe young man scratched his crew-cut hair and laughed. “There is only one Lady Linglong in the entire Tang Dynasty. She’s everyone’s dream. A girl like her was willing to delay her journey back to Changan by four hours, risking her life through eighteen assassination attempts. They all said… how could you?”

nThe smile on Fang Lang’s face faded slowly, slightly startled at the revelation.

nThen, he was speechless.

nHe recalled the starry-eyed girl, another reason for him to visit Changan.

nWhen Fang Lang was in deep thought, the old man scoffed, “You’re the Fang Lang who drew the Blooming Lotus Sword?”

nThe old man knocked his fingers once more and all the blades returned to their original position as if nothing had happened. The store quieted down, leaving only the crackling sounds of the flames.

nSwish!

nThe Blooming Lotus Sword released itself from the sheath and sword box across Fang Lang’s back and darted towards the old man. It stopped three inches before him.

nThe old man’s hand was trembling, resisting the urge to touch.

n“Blooming Lotus Sword, such a modest sword intent. It truly impresses me that Xuanyuan Taihua could cultivate such a powerful sword… given the fact that she’s a woman,” the old man exclaimed.

nThe next moment, he waved his hand and the Blooming Lotus Sword returned to its sheath.

n“Wen Ting took a calculated risk by asking you to come here. I’ll grant you the chance to buy a sword for a glimpse of the Blooming Lotus Sword,” the old man said.

nThe tension in the store dissipated, along with the intense pressure Fang Lang had been experiencing since he entered.

nBefore Fang Lang could relax, his body was pulled toward the old man. The old man raised his hand and grabbed Fang Lang’s palm. He grazed the open palm and felt the rough calluses on it.

n“Hmm. You’re so young, yet your calluses from sword training are so thick. Seems like you’ve been through a lot, young man.”

nThere was a rare glimpse of admiration on his face after he surmised Fang Lang’s intense sword training.

n“My forte is two-handed sword fighting. With the Blooming Lotus Sword, I still lack a left-handed sword. That’s why I’m here,” Fang Lang explained.

nThe old man raised his eyebrow. “There are only a handful of people in the Tang Dynasty who train with two swords. You’re quite ambitious. However, since you have the Blooming Lotus Sword on your right, the other sword should not be too weak. At the very least, it shouldn’t be suppressed by the Blooming Lotus’s sword intent. Otherwise your dual sword technique will be out of balance,” the old man said casually.

nThen, he sat up from his rocking chair. He raised his hand and presented a fist.

nShing!

nThe clear sound of the sword roared from deep within the store.

nA raging sword intent surged from every corner of the store.

nSuddenly, a sword as dark as ink darted out like a ferocious black dragon!

nDing!

nThe old man touched the hovering black sword with the tip of his fingers and it settled down.

n“This is Obsidian, forged from an opposing scale of a monstrous black dragon that was slaughtered when the Tang Dynasty attacked the Southern Sea Demon Palace. The Blooming Lotus Sword is quite mellow in character while the Obsidian Sword is viscous. They complement each other very well, like Yin and Yang,” the old man said as he polished the black sword.

nFang Lang’s eyes were fixated on the black sword.

n“Kid, if you want to buy a sword, this is it. The price is up to you to decide. However, I have one test for you,” said the old man.

nFang Lang answered in a serious tone, “Do tell.”

n“Back when Wen Ting came to me to buy his sword, he managed to withstand five hits from me. Even though he was severely injured, he still passed the test. I’m not interested in repeating that seeing how weak you are. What about this…”

nThe old man reached out his wrinkly fingers and pointed at the well-built young blacksmith. “That’s my disciple. He’s also preparing for the Imperial Examination. He’s currently a student in Changan Academy, an eighth-grade martial arts master and the runner-up in this year’s Grand Martial Arts Championship. He’ll suppress his strength at the ninth-grade martial arts disciple while you duel. If you’re still standing after I finish my tea, you’ll pass the test. If you can’t, you can beat it. You’re not worthy of the Obsidian Sword, and the Blooming Lotus Sword. Are you up for the challenge?”

nFang Lang felt a gush of warm blood rising from the bottom of his belly.

nHe looked up and stared at the innocent-looking young man who was scratching the back of his head and smiling.

nRunner-up of the Grand Martial Arts Championship?

nA genius?

nA fifteen-year-old eighth-grade martial arts master?

nYo, that’s refreshing!

n“I… I’d love to meet a genius,” Fang Lang’s eyes lit up and laughed.

n“Pfft!” The old man scoffed. He tightened his grip on the Obsidian Sword. The rocking chair started moving to one corner of the store on its own accord.

nThere was space for Fang Lang and the young blacksmith to duel.

n“Brother, I’m always excited to meet new people. May I know your name?” Fang Lang asked with a smile.

nHowever, the young man remained silent and continued to scratch the back of his head.

nSuddenly, the young man drew a black falchion and sliced through the air!

nFang Lang’s eyes narrowed and he pulled out the Blooming Lotus Sword!

nThe blades collided, creating sparks when they met!

nAn intense bolt of energy was channeled from the young man’s falchion to Fang Lang’s hand.

nThe young man’s eyes were burning while he increased his pressure on Fang Lang. Fang Lang tried to resist his force by grounding himself but he was being forced backward.

nOne kept pushing forward while the other kept backing up.

nBang!

nFang Lang’s back slammed onto the wooden door of the store. The young man charged the falchion with vital energy that transformed into a force that ripped through the wooden door behind Fang Lang. The wood chips scattered around instantly like a blooming black bramble.

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