The crowd encircled the sandy patch.
On the sand, Ye Huan and Xia Luoning traded nearly a hundred exchanges in rapid succession before suddenly breaking apart.
Both sank their breath, circulated their blood and qi, and stirred the acupoints across their bodies, poised to strike again at any moment.
*Gurgle—*
Xia Luoning's stomach gave a loud rumble.
Not only hers—the youths watching around them felt the exact same pangs. Some sighed, some gently rubbed their bellies, and a few simply plopped down on the ground to rest.
Martial artists burned through massive amounts of energy to begin with, and all of them were in the middle of a growth spurt.
They had been pushed to the limit from dawn to dusk without eating a single bite of food, forced to explore the ruins with everything they had, and then plunged straight into another fight upon coming out—
Even Xia Luoning was feeling the strain.
"On the next move, I'll decide the winner between us," Xia Luoning barked with an imposing glare.
"Be my guest," Ye Huan said with a faint smile.
*—As if I'd let you decide it that easily.*
He had enjoyed his fill of fish and meat, along with fresh fruit, leaving his stamina still quite plentiful.
His exact plan was to drag this out, fighting her until she finally had no choice but to concede!
Both lunged at each other at the same time—
In midair, a voice exploded like a crack of thunder:
"Halt!"
The pair broke off the instant they met and looked up toward the skyscraper.
There, standing on a window ledge with his arms folded across his chest, was the martial artist from this morning, glaring down at them with thorough annoyance.
"The point of this wilderness exploration was exploration! It's meant to test your observation, your judgment, and your ability to cooperate. Why are you picking fights again?"
"You aren't street thugs. Why is fighting all you can think about day in and day out?"
Xia Luoning protested indignantly, "How can you call what martial artists do 'fighting'? We're exchanging pointers and testing our skills!"
Ye Huan, however, stood strictly at attention, keeping his head down in silence.
Things had diverged.
In Xia Luoning's original memories, this martial artist had never shown up at this hour.
The entire exploration had concluded with Xia Luoning claiming first place.
It seemed the variable was him.
His clash with Xia Luoning after his arrival had made too much noise, catching the martial artist's attention.
With that thought, Ye Huan chose to stay rooted where he stood.
As a disciple of humble origins, anyone in the sect could reprimand him.
Xia Luoning, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.
Sure enough.
The martial artist had looked stern at first, but after Xia Luoning spoke up to dispute him, he scratched his head in helplessness, unable to keep up his harsh airs any longer.
"No more fighting. We'll decide the rankings this way instead—"
He pointed toward the very top of the skyscraper ruins and continued:
"I will wait for you up there. Whoever arrives first takes first place, and the rest will follow in order."
With that, his figure blurred as he scaled the side of the skyscraper. In two or three swift bounds, he vanished from view.
At this moment, nearly every disciple participating in the wilderness exploration was crowded in the open ground before the skyscraper, watching the contest between Xia Luoning and Ye Huan.
The moment the martial artist spoke those words, the crowd broke into a clamor and bolted into motion.
"Hmph, Ye Huan, let's see who reaches the roof first!"
Leaving behind those words, Xia Luoning sprang forward, kicking off her movement technique in a headlong dash.
Only Ye Huan remained behind.
He could not help a sigh of emotion.
He really had not expected to face such a predicament once entering this memory.
Then he had no other choice.
At any rate, the skill points spent here would only apply in this realm, with zero impact on his cultivation in the real world.
*Sacrifice two martial arts.*
*Extract the skill points and pour them all into Three Skims of the Flying Swallow.*
Ye Huan silently recited in his mind.
In the darkness, both Iron Cloth Shirt and Hunyuan Stance dimmed on the skill tree.
Three motes of light emerged from Iron Cloth Shirt, while another came from Hunyuan Stance.
They converged and sank directly into Three Skims of the Flying Swallow.
*Skill points are flexible; you may reallocate them at will, though it will incur a certain degree of loss.*
In a daze, Ye Huan felt himself pull away from the Taiyin Sect and arrive in another world.
A lone skiff drifted aimlessly upon the vast, boundless sea.
"If you cannot master your lightness skill, I will never let you venture out into the jianghu."
A voice came from behind.
Ye Huan turned to look and saw a handsome man lying on the deck, comfortably soaking in the sea breeze.
"Begin your training. From breath control to footwork, from movement techniques to internal cultivation—all of it must be drilled. You are still far from ready!" the man said lazily.
"Understood!" Ye Huan cupped his fists.
Right there on the boat, he began methodically cultivating Three Skims of the Flying Swallow.
Because he had already learned it once before, the path was familiar. In just a few days, he completely mastered the first form, Ascending Cloud Pavilion, and the second form, Rippling Cloud Shadow.
A prompt quietly surfaced in his mind:
*Because you have already learned two of the three forms, the loss incurred from this reallocation of skill points will be slightly reduced.*
That was certainly good news.
With an unburdened mind, Ye Huan threw himself entirely into training, persevering through wind and rain with undivided focus.
After seventeen or eighteen days, he succeeded in mastering the most difficult third form: Swallow Loop.
The man finally rose to his feet and began instructing Ye Huan in the nuances of the lightness skill.
"This movement technique is superb."
"However, you have only memorized the movements. You cannot yet wield them as naturally as your own limbs, control your pace at will, sustain the technique for long stretches, or transition seamlessly between forms."
"Martial skills are divided into form, intent, and spirit."
"Right now, you have not even perfected the 'form.' You must put in far more bitter effort!"
With that, the man skimmed down from the deck, his feet treading across the rolling waves as he sped far out to sea. Suddenly, he soared into the sky like a swallow returning to its nest, then gently drifted back down onto the deck.
"Did you see that? You must at least reach that level. Now go practice," the man said.
"Understood," Ye Huan responded with clasped hands.
From that day forth, his movement training entered a new stage.
Every time he reached a bottleneck, the man would offer pointers or demonstrate in person, guiding him toward a higher realm.
Three months later, the man spoke with a touch of impatience, reprimanding him:
"All this practicing, yet it holds nothing but hollow form."
"Never mind. Let me ask you."
"—The use of a movement technique has a purpose. What is your purpose in cultivating it?"
Ye Huan was caught off guard.
"To deal with enemies more nimbly?" he ventured hesitantly.
"Wrong, completely wrong."
The man shook his head vigorously and raised a single finger.
"If you ask me, every movement technique exists either to take an enemy's life or to keep the enemy from taking yours."
"Only when you stake your very life on executing your movement technique—whether to survive or to kill your foe—will it possess its true intent and spirit."
"Keep that as your principle and continue practicing."
"Understood," Ye Huan clasped his hands.
Two years later.
One morning, after testing Ye Huan's movement technique, the man finally spoke:
"Roughly a hundred and twenty li east of this boat, you can make landfall. Head to the Imperial Capital and deliver this letter to the Mansion of Prince Xi for me. Place it upon the desk in his study without being seen by anyone throughout your journey. Once that is done, you may venture into the jianghu."
"Understood," Ye Huan said, clasping his hands.
Only then did the man take up a brush and let it dance across a small slip of plum-blossom stationery:
*"I hear that during your ten years guarding the frontier, you repeatedly slaughtered innocent civilians to falsely claim military merits, piling up pyramids of severed heads for spectacle. Tomorrow at noon, I shall surely come to settle justice with you."*
Having finished writing, he sealed the letter and handed it to Ye Huan.
Ye Huan cupped his fists in a formal salute and said softly, "Thank you for your guidance all this time."
"Go on, do not miss the hour," the man said with a smile.
Only then did Ye Huan step onto the edge of the deck and leap. He descended upon the sea's surface, treading the waves as if walking on flat ground, infused with a buoyant, soaring momentum.
At that moment, the morning light stretched like an ocean and the sea mirrored the azure sky. He walked upon the waves alone—now skimming the tide like a flying swallow, now piercing the blue heavens like a skylark. Halfway through, he burst into full-throated song, traveling ever onward, drifting farther and farther away.
"The form is complete, and the intent is mastered. He is ready to enter the jianghu," the man murmured on the boat, nodding slightly as he watched.
The following day.
The man fished for a while, ate his morning meal, packed the boat in good order, and trod the waves toward the Imperial Capital.
The hour of the Snake was nearly past, and the hour of the Horse was fast approaching.
The man quietly appeared in the bustling marketplace of the capital. Just as he was about to head toward the Mansion of Prince Xi, a great clamor arose ahead, filled with the rumble of horses and carriages.
He looked back.
There, a familiar figure vaulted onto a multi-tiered pavilion, held high a severed head, tied it with a long cord, and hung it outside the brackets under the flying eaves before laughing heartily:
"I hear that during your ten years guarding the frontier, you repeatedly slaughtered innocent civilians to falsely claim military merits, piling up pyramids of severed heads for spectacle!"
"Today at noon, I have specially borrowed your head for everyone's viewing, hanging it above the bracket sets in the bustling marketplace so all may share in the joy!"
With that laughter, heedless of the shock rippling across the entire city, he unleashed his lightness skill and drifted away like a phantom.
Watching from within the crowd, the man clapped his hands in praise:
"He has grasped its spirit."
...
Only a single second had passed.
Ye Huan snapped his eyes open, only to see the disciples surging into motion, dashing full tilt toward the severed skyscraper.
Years of bitter cultivation remained vivid in his mind, yet they scattered like the remnants of a past life, dissolving into a dream.
And yet, something was different.
His movement technique!
Recalling the fruits of those years of cultivation, Ye Huan took a measured step and set off after the crowd.
Chapter 45