The steward glared angrily at Yang Yan.
"You still need a try? You didn't even stay inside for the time it takes to burn one stick of incense.
With talent like yours, what could you possibly comprehend?
Stop wasting my time and get lost!"
Yang Yan stood with his hands behind his back.
"How can I know unless I take a look."
The steward sneered.
"Take a look? Fine!
I'll waste a bit of time and let you see.
If you haven't comprehended at least thirty percent, I will certainly handle you.
I'll teach you what it means to respect your elders."
"Very well."
"Begin," the steward said impatiently.
Yang Yan flicked his wrist, sword qi formed and smashed down.
The ground shattered, stones flew.
He withdrew the sword qi, looking at the steward.
"How many layers do you think I comprehended?"
The steward didn't frown; in his eyes, Yang Yan had only unleashed one sword.
But from the moment the sword qi fell, he saw ten variations within it.
