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nTranslator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

nA deadly silence filled the practice ring.

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nThe audience only regained their senses after Fang Lang spoke. Chatter erupted like a handful of pearls striking a jade tray.

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nThe fifth-grade martial arts disciple—the little genius of the common folk—was defeated in one stroke!

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nIn a matter of seconds!

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nWho could have predicted?

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nFang Lang’s good friend, Yang Zhengyi was not exempted. His hand was part way through his fringe as he stared in shock.

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nA single strike decided the match.

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nIt was a clean win for Fang Lang. Amazing!

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nFang Lang left to return the wooden sword after speaking to Ni Wen.

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nThe wooden sword had too many scratches to be reused.

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nAmong the crowd, the talented students narrowed their eyes.

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nSome felt threatened by the show of power.

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n“Fang Lang… Was he hiding his skills all this time? Third grade to fifth grade. That quick draw technique would have taken at least ten years to master.”

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n“As the Imperial Examination approaches, all sorts of hidden talents will be revealed.”

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n“Interesting. So Fang Lang has decided to reveal his cards now.”

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nThe students exchanged wary glances as their competitiveness got the better of them.

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nThe triennial Imperial Examination was the last stop for average students. For the naturally talented, it was a platform to showcase their skills!

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nFang Lang’s performance riled up the students’ fighting spirit.

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nSurvival of the fittest, and the battle promised to be an interesting one.

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nFierce competition in the Imperial Examination was encouraged to validate the students’ three years of cultivation study.

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nWhen Yang Zhengyi recovered from his stupor, he frowned. Fang Lang greeted the girl and left without saying a word to him.

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nNevertheless, the duel had excited Yang Zhengyi. He ran his fingers through his hair and jogged after Fang Lang.

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nAs for Liu Hao, he had surreptitiously crawled out of the practice ring.

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nThe crowd slowly dispersed.

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nFang Lang’s words made Ni Wen blush. Her head was a bit dizzy with the blood rush.

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n‘Wait… Wait a minute. I have to practice with Fang Lang? Maybe I should just sit out on practice? Mother said I shouldn’t get involved with the rich kids.’

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nNi Wen’s head was down as she contemplated her decision.

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nFang Lang’s last strike was seared into Ni Wen’s mind, so was the bright smile he gave her in front of the whole crowd.

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nThe solution appeared in Ni Wen’s mind, ‘I’ll practice with him, but I won’t say a word.’

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nShe clenched her fist and nodded, determined to follow through with her promise.

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n…

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nThe willow trees alongside the practice grounds swayed in the light breeze.

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nSilhouettes moved under the shade of the trees.

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nIf Fang Lang was here, he would see a familiar figure under the shade. It was the man whom Old Fang accompanied to the entertainment house, Uncle Zhao.

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nUncle Zhao stood respectfully beside a slender figure. Next to them was an old man with a hunched back. His beard was as white as his robe.

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nThe three people drew their gazes away.

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nUncle Zhao wore an odd expression while the slender figure had her dark brows knitted together, deep in thought.

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nThe old man stroked his white beard, a smile on his face.

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n“That sword draw is interesting. If it was a disciple of the Sword Guild, I won’t be surprised. Who knew Luojiang Academy had a student of this caliber?” the young, slender lady said after a deep breath.

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nThen, she fell silent. After a while, her eyes lit up. The bottleneck had been overcome and her thoughts flowed fluidly.

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n“Now I understand what Master Cui meant by not underestimating people.”

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nThe slender lady bowed before the hunchbacked man.

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nThe old man waved his hand. “Young lady, this is not my doing. This is a normal duel between two Luojiang Academy students.”

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nHe turned to Jiang Linglong and sighed.

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nThe golden cores were truly eccentric.

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nBy chance, they happened to witness a surprising duel between two students.

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n“That boy’s sword technique would’ve taken at least ten years of gruelling practice. It’s one of the strongest sword techniques. Although he’s just a fifth-grade sword disciple, having this technique in his arsenal would give him a significant boost.”

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nJiang Linglong had an attractive look of admiration on her face.

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nThe old man who was addressed as Master Cui stroked his beard. He did not gainsay Jiang Linglong.

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n“The boy is Fang Lang?”

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n“The son of Luojiang City’s Fang Beihe?”

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n“Why didn’t we hear of him sooner?”

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nMaster Cui smiled as he looked at Fang Lang disappear into the crowd after his win against Liu Hao.

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nThe confidence and calmness Fang Lang displayed after his win was admirable.

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nThe old man and the slender lady continued walking. The boy’s sword technique was phenomenal but his cultivation grade was too low. The technique would boost his examination score but a fifth-grade sword disciple stood little chance in being picked by the Tang Dynasty’s elite sects. A normal sect, maybe. Fang Lang was placed at the back of their minds.

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nIf one could not get into the top-tier sects, the path forward was predictable, impressive sword technique or no.

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nJiang Linglong and Master Cui chatted as they ambled along the path.

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nUncle Zhao followed Jiang Linglong’s footsteps but the shock and awe on his face still remained.

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nHe recognized the boy in the ring. It was Fang Lang!

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nThe boy was a third-grade sword disciple when they met, but within a day, he had reached the fifth grade.

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nThe sword technique he just used was extraordinary.

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nThe boy’s performance contradicted Old Fang’s mediocre evaluation of his son.

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nA distance away, Jiang Linglong turned her head. Her eyebrows were scrunched up as she hollered, “Zhao Wuji, stop daydreaming. I still have to make a trip to the Jade Pavilion after this. Keep up!”

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n“Yes!”

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nUncle Zhao snapped out of his daze and picked up his pace.

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n…

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nFang Lang placed the brittle wooden sword back onto the weapons shelf. The old mentor in charge of the weapons shelf raised an eyebrow but did not demand for compensation.

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nThe mentor had witnessed Fang Lang and Liu Hao’s duel and saw the sword skill deployed by the former.

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n“If you were equipped with a steel sword, that strike would have taken off the opponent’s arm, a clean slice through the bone.”

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nThe mentor took a drag of his tobacco pipe and smiled.

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nA surprised expression crossed Fang Lang’s face, then he smiled. “He’s a classmate. Mercy where it’s due.”

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nMore importantly, the academy did not allow steel swords.

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nFang Lang exchanged the damaged wooden sword for a new one.

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nThe words shocked the mentor.

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n‘Mercy where it’s due…’

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nHe took another drag of his pipe and blew out a cloud of smoke. A smile graced his face as he said, “Good child. That’s a good attitude to have. The heart matters when it comes to cultivation.”

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nThe mentor tapped his tobacco pipe against the weapons shelf.

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nFang Lang gave the old mentor a nod. With his new wooden sword, he turned to leave for the practice grounds.

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nThe duel gave him a taste of the Sword Draw Technique.

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nFighting Liu Hao was a waste of time. It did not yield him any passive rewards so he wanted to end the duel as quickly as possible. He wanted to secure a clear win.

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nThe power of the Sword Draw Technique was a big surprise.

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nEngaging in meaningful interactions with the binding partner would gain him special rewards.

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nThe passive ability excited Fang Lang and he was eager to train with Ni Wen. Combat practice should count as a meaningful interaction, right?

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nThe bell sounded to signal the end of break time.

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nOn the practice grounds, the students from the third floor of the seventh study block gathered.

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nAfter some lecturing, the mentor ordered them to practice with their partners.

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nThe students dispersed—green robes flapped like windswept leaves on the practice grounds.

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nAt one corner, Fang Lang and Ni Wen faced each other.

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nNi Wen held a withered wooden staff.

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nFang Lang gave her a gentle smile.

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nNi Wen’s heart rate picked up. She tucked her head into her robe, too shy to face Fang Lang.

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n‘Just practice, no talking!’

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nA distance away, Yang Zhengyi flipped his fringe away as he glared at Fang Lang.

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nThe boy had grown wings and abandoned him to spar with Ni Wen.

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nYang Zhengyi was the 50th on the honor roll!

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nWas he not comparable to Ni Wen?

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nCough…

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nNi Wen was in the top three. Perhaps he did not hold a candle to her.

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nYang Zhengyi was saddened by the thought and he aimed to take his frustrations out on his opponent.

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nThe mentor gave the order.

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nTwo rows of students faced each other.

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n“Thank you for the guidance.”

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nThe perfunctory greeting resounded throughout the practice area.

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nIn the next moment, combat practice began and enthusiastic shouts broke out.

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nBrimming with youthfulness, the teenagers assumed their fighting stances.

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nThere were smiles all around.

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