Why do I have so many masters?

Xue Qinshuang's favorite things in life were martial arts and alcohol.

Yet today, both met their match.

The woman with the cold demeanor drank cup after cup in silence.

She was an exceptional beauty, and even Xue Qinshuang, as a woman herself, had to admit this. Dressed in simple white, her every movement was natural, without a hint of pretense. A mere raise of her hand could be described as breathtakingly elegant. And yet, this elegant demeanor now carried a hint of heroic boldness.

There was not the slightest change in the frequency of her movements.

Several wine jars had already been placed on the table.

Xue Qinshuang's vision was slightly blurred, and the wine cup in her hand struck the tabletop. For the first time in her life, she felt the sense of intoxication, her head wobbled, and she collapsed onto the table.

The Great Elder looked at the drunken Xue Qinshuang and set down his own wine cup.

The jade-colored wine cup exuded a piercingly strong smell, that of a kind of liquor that most people dread like a tiger.

She raised her palm and her thumb swept past her lips.

"Even 'Burning Knife' liquor is not as fierce as it once was," she lamented.

Outside the Sutra Loft of Myriad Swords Mountain.

Wang Anfeng was delicately eating a piece of grilled fish, a specialty of this area unavailable at the base of Myriad Swords Mountain. What a pity that Xue Qinshuang had been injured and was forbidden from drinking alcohol or eating meat, and Baili Feng and Tuoba Yue were committed to their cultivation, with no time to come here.

What a shame...

The youth picked up the last piece of grilled fish and put it in his mouth, savoring the delightful taste of the flesh that spread between his lips and teeth, rich in layers and teasing his taste buds. He couldn't help but squint his eyes with pleasure.

Hmm... it is still far inferior to my second master's cooking, he admitted to himself with a fair judgment.

In recent days, many people had come to Qingfeng Edge: famous rangers, haughty and untamed swordsmen, as well as old martial artists of the same generation as the Great Elder. The previously quiet Hidden Sword Sect had suddenly taken on the raucous air of the mundane world.

As dusk fell and the bright moon hung high, red lanterns lined Qingfeng Edge, causing the aloof charm of the Hidden Sword Sect to falter and fall to ordinary levels.

The sound of a clear sword cry rang out as a Qingfeng Sword was thrown from a far-off stone, spinning twice in the air before landing firmly in the ground in front of Wang Anfeng.

Jiu Zizai stood on that stone, his right hand holding a large gourd of wine, which he swayed slightly. His left hand held another Qingfeng Sword, simple yet sharp. After taking a drink, he nodded at Wang Anfeng, signaling the youth to attack. Lin Qiaofu and her sister stepped aside, the young girl's eyes wide with anticipation for the battle about to unfold.

Since the incident with the Three Fools Sword, this had become the norm in front of the Sutra Loft.

Wang Anfeng needed an opponent to recall the state of mind he had when crossing swords with the Three Fools, and Jiu Zizai was intensely curious about the swordsmanship passed down by the Sword Saint.

Although he was over seventy and had reached an age of understanding his fate, his passion for martial arts remained unchanged. Should he encounter one or two noteworthy moves in Jianghu, he would be overjoyed, immersing himself for days. With his astonishing martial arts knowledge, he would refine those moves to perfection and then innovate new techniques to correspond with them.

Such monotonous tasks in the eyes of the ordinary were considered the greatest of pleasures to him. With such a character, how could he not be itching to explore the swordsmanship of the Sword Saint?

After taking a hefty gulp of the cloudy wine, the elder, wielding a sword in his left hand, gestured and said,

"Young man, come forth!"

Wang Anfeng stood up, his right hand gripping the hilt of the sword.

"Please be careful, senior."

With a light shout, the youth stepped forward, his Qingfeng Sword unleashing seventy-two sword techniques, stabbing towards the elder and casting a fierce sword glow.

Jiu Zizai, an Upper Third Rank Grandmaster, had faced more swordmasters in his lifetime than Wang Anfeng had ever met. The seventy-two methods taught by Mr. Ying, though brilliant, were unable to fully express their true effect against the elder's wealth of experience.

This sword technique was devised by Mr. Ying himself.

It seemed that only a scholar with a sword, personally taking action, might be able to cross swords with Jiu Zizai.

A moment later, accompanying the elder's released grip, Wang Anfeng's Qingfeng Sword was sent flying by the elder's strike, while the elder's longsword was simultaneously raised, stopping right at Wang Anfeng's throat.

The elder, with a sharp and piercing demeanor, resembled those legendary swordsmen in the stories of Jianghu.

The sharp glint in his eyes quickly receded, and Jiu Zizai shook his head regretfully. He casually tossed the longsword behind him, and with a whoosh, it pierced straight into its scabbard.

The old man sighed and said,

"Still no clue... It seems I, an old man, am destined not to see the Sword Saint's swordsmanship."

Wang Anfeng knew what the elder meant.

Only two days were left until the Great Elder's birthday feast.

Having had not a single thread of thought for three days, it was absolutely impossible to achieve enlightenment in that sword technique within two days.

.....................

Atop the cliff of Qingfeng Edge.

Baili Feng opened his eyes and gently grazed the sharp edge of the Mo Blade resting on his knee with his right hand, his fingers lightly flicking.

A clear and melodious whistling arose, blending with the mountain breeze.

He had only practiced the Sword Nurturing Technique for three days. His talent was not that of the unparalleled genius found only in stories, but through meditation and focus, he achieved some results, clearing many distracting thoughts from his heart.

The young man from the Military Family looked at the distant layers of clouds, his breathing calm and profound.

Clouds gathered and dispersed, but the sky remained vast and azure. Those drifting clouds failed to leave behind the slightest trace.

The military texts he once scorned suddenly surfaced in his mind at this moment.

The youth unexpectedly felt an epiphany.

The purpose of reading and the insights of sages from the past were not meant to be understood right after reading, but would embed themselves in one's heart, waiting for the right moment to emerge, intertwining with one's own experiences and suddenly evoking a profound sense of empathy.

Once understood, it is understood.

No need to prove it to others, only oneself can truly comprehend.

The youth's eyes became unfathomably deep.

His heart was like a clear sky.

The calmness of a Military Family strategist was not a detached indifference born of cutting off all emotions but a state of mind that transcended everything.

The things experienced, the fluctuations of emotions like clouds and mist, moving through the sky, but unable to leave true marks in it. No matter how fierce the wind or wild the rain, high above the mists, the real sky remained a tranquil blue.

Is joy my heart?

No.

Is it anger?

No.

The heart is the heart.

Through his gaze, clouds churned, but Baili Feng's state of mind had subtly changed. The clouds suddenly rolled violently as if some Exotic Beast was hidden behind them. The thick clouds swiftly parted to both sides, and a giant bird burst through the cloud layer, its wings still entangled with wisps of cloud vapor. It was only after the bird streaked across a vast distance at high speed that the vapor flowed away and disappeared.

Reflected in Baili Feng's serene eyes was that enormous bird.

He saw its massive form, the wings, and the intricate wooden texture of its body; he saw an old man standing atop it, and his face of horror growing closer and closer in his field of vision.

The youth's face suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening.

"What the bloody hell!"

It was as if Baili Feng had springs installed on his body; he leaped up from the ground, screaming and turning to run, but how could he outrun something that flew? He had taken only two steps backward when the giant Mechanical Bird smashed directly onto the ground behind him.

The force was fierce, lifting a layer of tangible blast wave. Had it not been for Baili Feng's Martial Arts abilities, he might have been knocked unconscious.

Even so, the youth was blown back, flying four or five meters and landing heavily on the ground, nearly splitting into eight pieces.

Baili Feng's heroic face contorted, and he couldn't help but gasp in shock.

The vicious Mo Blade in his hand loosened, clinking and clattering to the ground. He twisted his body to the left, his right hand trembling as he fished out an object from beneath him. Looking up, he saw it was a fist-sized round stone, conveniently wedged under the right side of his buttocks.

Baili Feng's mouth opened and shut, and then a surge of anger rose from beneath, blazing up inside him.

To hell with that Military strategist's mindset, to hell with a heart like a clear sky.

The youth snatched up the nearby Mo Blade, laughing menacingly as he got up and limped towards the old man who was straightening his clothes, hobbling over.

"You old coot!"

PS: Second update