In Jin Yong's world of martial arts, aside from the nearly celestial True Yue Maiden Sword, there are four sword techniques acknowledged as the strongest — the Taiji Sword for its invincible defense, the Dugu Nine Swords for its unmatched offense, the Evil-Resisting Sword for its astonishing speed, and the Jade Maiden Heart Sword, equally famed for its graceful swiftness.
As for the Heavy Iron Sword Technique and Six Meridian Divine Sword — Aedric always said those didn't even count as real sword techniques. One relied purely on brute strength, the other didn't even use a sword — how could that be considered swordsmanship?
Although Jin Yong's martial arts rarely made strict gender distinctions, invisible barriers still existed. For example, take The Jade Maiden Heart Sutra: both Lin Chaoying and Xiaolongnü could cultivate it to the level of a top grandmaster, but even the immensely talented Yang Guo could only use it as a foundation.
Even the legendary Nine Yin Manual—though it could be practiced by anyone—had only ever been mastered to its true depths by men. Women, even those as intelligent as Huang Rong and Zhou Zhiruo, could only reach the level of first-rate experts. As for the Yellow-Clothed Maiden, she merely used Nine Yin Claw atop her Jade Maiden Heart Sutra foundation — just enough to give Zhou Zhiruo a sound beating.
Thus, if one were to name the sword technique most suited for women among Jin Yong's martial arts, aside from the lost True Yue Maiden Sword, it would have to be the Jade Maiden Heart Sword of the Ancient Tomb Sect.
Yet truly mastering this supreme art was no easier than any of the other three great sword techniques. Ambidextrous Skill was only the first step — the true key lay in being pure of heart and emotion, with a one-in-a-million innate gift for the sword. Without that, one could never grasp the essence of this technique — a sword style powered by emotion itself.
Back in the Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre world, none of the women Aedric encountered — save for the Yellow-Clothed Maiden — could actually learn this art. Even Aedric himself had only managed to barely master it after achieving perfection in Nine Yang Divine Skill, aided by the cheat-like trait of "all martial arts can be used as extensions."
In fact, even the very first step — "drawing a circle with the left hand and a square with the right" — was something Aedric had only managed to grasp at that time. After all, he was a man who had lived for decades in the modern world — the so-called "heart of an innocent child" was hardly something he still possessed.
So when he watched Arya Stark effortlessly complete the first exercise, Aedric was genuinely shaken, staring in disbelief at the flawless circle and square on the ground. After a long silence, he finally forced a strained smile and asked, "Well… that's pretty good, Arya. Have you played this game before?"
"No," Arya said brightly, eyes wide with curiosity. "Was it supposed to be hard? I thought it was really easy."
"Heh… heh heh…" Aedric could only chuckle dryly, torn between laughing and crying. Fighting down the urge to pinch her cheek, he sighed. "Yes… very easy. Then let's move on to the next step."
Unlike the Old Urchin, who treated Ambidextrous Skill as a mere game, the Ancient Tomb Sect had, over decades, developed a complete and systematic training method once they discovered how crucial it was to mastering the Jade Maiden Heart Sword.
And as time went by, watching Arya tear through each stage of training like a natural prodigy, Aedric found himself growing numb — and deeply impressed. No wonder this girl would one day stab the Night King to death. She truly was a once-in-a-generation sword genius.
Just as he was beginning to consider teaching her a real martial art, the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. Looking up, he saw the golden pair — Jaime and Cersei Lannister — walking side by side toward them.
Aedric had to admit — purely in terms of appearance, the two were strikingly beautiful, like twin statues of living gold. But knowing what these two did behind closed doors made his stomach turn. To a modern man, even cousins marrying would be scandalous — let alone a brother and sister sharing the same blood.
Such levels of depravity were something only the Greek gods could rival.
Still, considering that in this world such things were not unheard of — even his own Targaryen bloodline endorsed it — Aedric couldn't help but feel a faint disgust toward himself, as if something deep inside him had been tainted.
Nevertheless, regardless of how he felt, the fact remained that their social standings were worlds apart. So he quickly pulled Arya to her feet and bowed respectfully.
As they passed, Cersei gave a sideways glance toward the bowed "bastard," then fixed her gaze on Arya, speaking with feigned gentleness:
"A noble daughter of House Stark shouldn't be seen consorting with a lowborn bastard. It diminishes your dignity."
Arya bristled, clearly wanting to retort, but Aedric gave her hand a firm squeeze, silently warning her to stay quiet. He knew exactly how poisonous this woman's heart was.
Seeing Arya's indignant yet silent expression, Cersei sneered dismissively and swept past, her golden-haired brother following with an amused smirk.
What neither of them noticed was that Aedric's fingers had flicked slightly as they passed, sending a wisp of subtle inner force into one of Cersei's pressure points. The effect? She'd be feeling an inexplicable ache for days — just enough to keep the pair of them from acting like rutting dogs in heat wherever they pleased.
"Don't mind her — that's just who she is."
A familiar sardonic voice came from the side. It was the "Imp," Tyrion Lannister, a smaller, equally golden figure holding a bottle of wine as he sauntered over.
"She looks down on everyone but her handsome brother," Tyrion said with a smirk. "Even her poor dwarf sibling doesn't make the cut."
Aedric merely smiled faintly, calm and unbothered. Seeing that composure, Tyrion raised a brow, intrigued.
"So tell me," he said, "how does it feel to be called lowborn to your face? Doesn't it sting?"
Aedric knew Tyrion meant no malice — he was just genuinely curious. After all, Tyrion himself was no stranger to being despised. So he gently patted Arya's hand and replied lightly,
"No one chooses their birth, but they can choose their future. Perhaps one day I'll make that 'noble queen' understand a truth — 'Better to bully an old man than a poor young one.'"
"'Better to bully an old man than a poor young one'…" Tyrion repeated softly, rolling the saying on his tongue. His expression grew oddly wistful.
After a long silence, he looked at Aedric again, eyes complicated, and murmured, "Maybe you really will. I'll be looking forward to that day."
With that, the clever, tragic "Imp" turned and walked away — his small frame seeming unusually lonely against the northern wind.