Early one morning at the beginning of winter, a large crowd gathered on No-Sword Peak.
The morning wind swept up charred, broken branches, making them slap against the pigsty. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. The sounds echoed through the air.
The moment Su Bei's voice fell, he instantly captured everyone's attention!
All the Sword Sect disciples held their breath, watching as Su Bei stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the snow-covered expanse of No-Sword Peak.
His majestic figure seemed to fuse with the snowy landscape, blurring the lines until it was unclear if they were looking at a painting or if their eyes were simply filled with a scene of profound artistry.
Su Bei declared, "I, Bei, dare! Let everyone here be my witness!"
One Sword Sect disciple flushed beet-red. He stared at the composed Fifth Elder, his toes gripping the soles of his shoes so tightly it seemed he might gouge a two-bedroom apartment out of them!
