Evening.
On the riverbank open space.
The bonfire burned, making the originally cold weather warm.
Gu Yourong and Little Stone were interestedly grilling fish, while Yin Daoyan sat cross-legged nearby, watching the afterglow of the sunset.
Not far away, on the open ground, Mei Weixuan was deftly maneuvering, the long sword in his hand accompanied by the sound of sword cries, emitting a sharp cold light.
"This is the swordsmanship that the children of my Mei family use to lay their foundation in their youth. Watch closely, this is the Stabbing Sword."
As he spoke, Mei Weixuan held the sword in his right hand, bent his elbow to his waist, and then thrust the sword forward.
