Two days had passed since the annihilation of the Strength Clan.
At a noodle stall on the street, Li Zhexian, Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling, Yu Tianheng, and the other four occupied two square tables.
Across from them, in front of a tavern—
The storyteller, recently recovered from illness, had set up his stall once again.
With a sharp snap, his folding fan spread open, and spittle flew as he spoke.
"Esteemed listeners, lend me your ears! Today this old man shall recount the tale of 'Sword Wine drenched in blood, the fall of the Strength Clan!'"
The green-robed storyteller's voice suddenly dipped into a chilling tone, like a crow cawing in the dusk.
"They say that the Strength Clan's Clan Leader, Tai Tan, in order to recruit Sword Wine into his clan, birthed a foolish notion! Relying on his extra sixty years of life, he sought to use force to oppress others…"
"Tsk, tsk!"
Yu Feng slurped down the last mouthful of noodle broth and sighed.
"Idol, now I understand why you prefer this noodle stall. These fragrant noodles, paired with stories of jianghu, really have a flavor all their own."
Yu Tianheng nodded in agreement:
"Zhexian once said that after a night of heavy drinking, nothing soothes better than a hot bowl of noodles. Indeed, it was no lie."
"When it comes to enjoying life, I've never seen anyone more adept than Zhexian."
Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling's gazes occasionally drifted toward the white-clad youth clapping along with the storyteller, smiles curling faintly at the corners of their lips.
Li Zhexian swept his eyes over his friends and shook his head with a wry smile.
For his sake, these families had mobilized their strength and brought about the downfall of the Strength Clan.
Such friendship deserved a banquet in thanks.
Of course—
This favor, Li Zhexian engraved deep within his heart.
The days ahead were long; there would come a time for great repayment.
...
Time flew like an arrow.
In the blink of an eye, three months had passed.
Beneath the gnarled branches of the plum tree in the courtyard—
Li Zhexian sat cross-legged on a meditation mat, his breathing long and steady.
With each breath, the fallen plum blossoms across the ground were drawn by an unseen rhythm, rising and falling in the air.
After about half an hour—
Li Zhexian's eyes suddenly snapped open.
Two sharp sword qis shot out from his eyes, making the air whistle.
At the same time, a powerful wave of Spirit Power surged from his body. It lifted the plum petals from the ground into the air, turning them into a rain of falling blossoms.
"Level thirty-seven," Li Zhexian said, clenching his fists. He nodded in satisfaction, feeling the surging Spirit Power within him.
Over the past three months, aside from refining his sword techniques, he had devoted himself to hard cultivation.
The incident with Tai Tan served as a constant ringing alarm, making him deeply aware that while his sword techniques were sharp and peerless, the foundation of Spirit Power was the basis for any Spirit Master's strength.
Still, his cultivation of the sword had not been neglected.
Li Zhexian had always excelled most in comprehending the sword.
But this time—
He found himself confronted with an unprecedented bottleneck.
"Speaking of sword techniques…"
"This fourth form of the Qinglian Sword Song—completely elusive, without the faintest clue."
He raised two fingers like a sword, pointing slightly upward.
In that instant—
Starlight flickered, ice and fire intertwined, a gentle breeze coiled around his fingertips.
Three distinct sword intents danced around him, shattering any plum petals that brushed against them.
"The first form is Starlight. The second is Ice and Fire. The third is cool breeze…"
"Then what, truly, is the fourth form of the Qinglian Sword Song?"
This bottleneck was unlike any before.
In the past, though creating new techniques had always been arduous—
Some embryonic form of sword intent had always stirred in his heart.
But this time, no matter how he pondered, only mist clouded his mind.
Li Zhexian's brows knit into a hard knot.
"The Three Realms of the Sword Dao…"
"The Lower Sword cuts down others. The Middle Sword cuts down oneself. The Upper Sword cuts down the night."
"The first three forms of the Qinglian Sword Song have already reached the realm of the Upper Sword that cuts down the night."
"And yet… vaguely, I sense it. If I can comprehend this fourth form, perhaps… I may glimpse the threshold of the mysterious Fourth Realm of the Sword Dao."
Disheartened by his setback, Li Zhexian invited Xue Qinghe and the seven of the Heaven Dou Imperial Battle Team, who had just finished special training, to his quiet courtyard.
They gathered around, drinking and laughing together.
After several cups, Yu Tianheng, somewhat tipsy, He suddenly put down his cup and said seriously, "Zhexian, the Spirit Master Tournament is less than three months away."
"Our Imperial Battle Team has been cultivating hard at the academy, but our progress is limited."
"The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's simulation training grounds hold unique mysteries. We must return there to cultivate for some time."
He looked at Li Zhexian with a burning gaze.
"Why not come with us as a guest of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan?"
"My grandfather always scolds me, comparing me to you. This time, I'll let him see you with his own eyes!"
At these words—
Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling's eyes lit up, gazing at Li Zhexian with eager anticipation.
Naturally, they both dearly wished he would accompany them.
"To the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan?"
Li Zhexian's brows arched slightly.
He had already been planning to visit the Seven Great Sects again, traveling to deepen his sword comprehension.
But among them, he was far less familiar with the others than with the Wind Sword Sect.
The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan was, in fact, an excellent choice.
"The Wind Eye of the Wind Sword Sect was already wondrous enough."
"As one of the Upper Three Sects, the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's foundation must be even deeper. There must be some extraordinary place worth experiencing."
"Moreover, during the Strength Clan incident, Yu Tianheng's grandfather, the
Thunder Douluo, also intervened."
"Unlike Senior Dugu, he and I are not well acquainted. Proper courtesy demands that I pay him a visit in thanks."
As his thoughts turned—
Li Zhexian realized he had no reason to refuse.
Under the delighted gazes of Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling—
He smiled.
"If I won't be a bother, I'll go with you."
Hahahaha, how could you be a bother? We couldn't be happier!" Yu Tianheng punched Li Zhexian's shoulder. Yu Feng, Osler, and the Shi brothers were all visibly delighted.
In the midst of the merriment, only Xue Qinghe, although a faint smile lingered on his lips, didn't seem very interested.
Li Zhexian's hand paused mid-drink.
Then, with a casual sweep of his arm, he drew Xue Qinghe close by the shoulder.
"What's this?"
"Afraid I'll be gone, and no one will keep you company fishing?"
Such a gesture, in full view of all—
Xue Qinghe's heart gave a sudden leap.
Her hand, hidden beneath the table, pinched Li Zhexian's waist. Outwardly, though, she maintained the aloof dignity of the Crown Prince, answering calmly:
"Heh. Go, if you wish."
"The pleasure of fishing can be had anytime."
"As for me, this Crown Prince has been swamped with affairs of state. I could use one less distraction."
Yu Tianheng and the others, watching, only took it for brotherly camaraderie and thought nothing more.
After all—
Other than Li Zhexian, who else would dare so casually sling an arm around His Highness's neck?
But Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling exchanged glances, each seeing a flicker of suspicion in the other's eyes.
Then Li Zhexian's next action—
Left them both wide-eyed in shock.
He suddenly leaned in, brought his lips to Xue Qinghe's ear, and whispered a few words.
Xue Qinghe's face lit instantly with a bright smile.
"This… this…"
Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling pointed at the two of them, momentarily struck speechless.
Li Zhexian, still with his arm draped around Xue Qinghe, arched a brow and scoffed.
"What's with that look? Never seen two brothers share a private word?"
The faces of Dugu Yan and Ye Lingling stiffened.
Meanwhile, Yu Tianheng and the others only laughed it off, unbothered.
Normal.
Perfectly normal.
Close brothers, sharing everything—what could be more ordinary?
Xue Qinghe lowered her gaze.
Her fingertip traced the rim of her cup as she sipped her wine lightly.
Her earlier gloom had vanished without a trace.
All because of the words Li Zhexian had whispered in her ear—
"Before we head to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, I want to see Qian Renxue."