To soar freely through the skies like a bird — that's probably one of the oldest, deepest desires buried in every cultivator's heart.
Li Xun was no exception.
Back when he had first set foot on Lianxia Mountain, he'd already been fascinated by the streaks of sword light darting through the clouds.
And the moment he saw Shan Zhi — who had come up the mountain alongside him — wobble down from the sky on his flying sword, a fierce wave of jealousy surged in his chest. From that point on, any chance of the two becoming real friends was quietly severed.
Seven or eight years passed in a blink. Now he was back at Lianxia Mountain, no longer a newcomer, but a core disciple of the sect. His status had changed, but some dreams don't fade with time.
When Shan Zhi could already soar a thousand miles on his sword, arriving at dawn and returning by dusk, Li Xun had only just gotten his first sword artifact.
But he wasn't in a rush.
Sitting by the edge of the cliff on Zhiguan Peak — a drop so deep the bottom was lost to mist — he slowly drew his Azure Jade. A hazy blue-green light spilled out into the dim evening sky.
Imitating Mingji's movements, Li Xun gently ran his palm down the blade's spine, narrowing his eyes as he felt the chill radiating from it.
He calmed his breath, laid his hand flat on the blade, and began tapping in a steady rhythm. A low hum buzzed from the sword with each strike. The glow pulsed along with his touch — flickering, surging, and dimming in turn.
The Mingxin Sword Sect had two main ways of refining swords.
Li Xun wasn't using the standard "nurturing" method. Instead, he went with the other one — the technique Mingji referred to as "Spirit Binding Art." It was a shortcut: using his true breath to carve talisman-like marks onto the blade. This let the sword's energy flow align with the wielder's intent.
This offered no cultivation benefits, but its simplicity was its strength—once inscribed, the sword could be used right away.
Li Xun's specialty was talismans and restrictive formations— to toss his strength aside and rely on his weakness just wouldn't make sense.
Still, he didn't dare rush it. The key to this "Spirit Binding" technique was drawing out the blade's full potential. And right now, he barely understood the sword's nature. If he carved the wrong patterns, it'd be more trouble than it was worth. That was a mistake he wouldn't make.
So he kept tapping the blade, using a sword-testing method to trace the flow of spiritual energy through it. The sword, "Azure Jade," should've been a powerful artifact. But due to issues in its forging, it had ended up second-rate — a real shame.
Li Xun ran the test again and again. And sure enough, he eventually spotted it — a faint disconnect between the sword's sharp, aggressive nature and the aura curling around it.
The sword's essence and the spiritual energy weren't in sync. Swing it, and the intent wouldn't come through fully. At best, he'd only get seventy percent of its power.
Fixing that kind of flaw was beyond him. Fortunately, he didn't need to fix it — not right now. His goal was simple: to learn how to fly on a sword.
After over three hours of careful sensing, he'd finally grasped the ebb and flow of Azure Jade's energy. The sky had gone completely dark.
He raised his hand, then slammed his palm down hard onto the sword. It let out a low, deep hum that echoed in the night air. While the blade was still vibrating, he pressed his finger against the edge. The sword's aura was sharp — it cut into his fingertip with ease, and blood began to drip.
He curled his finger, letting the blood bead and swirl for a moment. Then, in one swift move, he pressed his bleeding finger to the center of the sword's spine and dragged it from guard to tip. The blood line ran straight and true, like it had been carved into the blade itself.
The sword gave a low, drawn-out whistle. Its blue glow flickered and dimmed. The blood trail glowed bright red for a moment, as thick as a pinky, then began to thin — narrowing into a single, hair-fine line before settling in.
Li Xun looked pleased, though his face had gone pale.
Just now, he'd used a technique called "Drawing the Sha." By seizing the moment when the sword's energy dipped slightly, and using his blood as a guide, he opened up a "Dragon's Return Channel" inside the blade. This funneled the sword's scattered spiritual energy into a single pathway.
From the outside, it looked like the sword had lost its glow — its energy seemingly drained. But in truth, without the spiritual energy holding it back, the weapon's true killing power was now fully unleashed. No more disharmony between body and blade — it was as if the sword had become an extension of his will.
Still, the spiritual energy trapped in the Dragon's Return Channel would be wasted if he left it idle. Li Xun wanted to refine it further, to use it as fuel for unleashing sword qi.
If he could weave the energy into countless threads, let it sink into the sword's material, and form an array of talisman marks within the blade — he could trigger the sword qi from inside, amplifying its force.
But that kind of refinement wasn't something he could pull off overnight. He'd have to shelve it for now.
For the time being, the sword was done. With the Dragon's Return Channel carved, Azure Jade was no longer living up to its name. The hazy blue-green light was gone, replaced by a faint halo clinging to the blade — proof that this sword was anything but ordinary.
Li Xun quietly chanted a spell. His true breath flowed through his meridians, surged out through his hand, and struck the sword — it let out another low hum. He let go.
And Azure Jade floated gently into the air.
Sword-riding, in the end, was about using the sword as a conduit to commune with heaven and earth's energy, borrowing their power to roam the heavens.
With the sect's flying sword technique guiding him, Li Xun directed Azure Jade in front of him to spin slowly through the air. Sluggish was its speed, but it was steady.
Li Xun could sense it — the primordial energy of heaven and earth was subtly resonating with his own true breath through Azure Jade. Every time his true breath stirred, it would channel through the sword and, in turn, influence the primordial energy of heaven and earth.
He gradually pushed the sword to fly faster, adapting himself to how its movements affected the heaven and earth's primordial energy flow.
Before long, Azure Jade, gliding high in the sky, had begun forming a faint aura around Li Xun's body — not bright, but visible. The sword qi had started spilling out beyond his control, scattering in all directions and leaving shallow gashes across the rocks below.
From that, Li Xun understood: once he crossed a certain limit, the flight would become unstable. That was something to watch out for.
Then, with just a thought, the sword dipped sharply, angling down like a falling star.
Li Xun leapt lightly, landing on the sword. His body swayed slightly, but he quickly found balance. Azure Jade tilted its tip, then steadied itself mid-air beneath him.
"Nice!"
Li Xun let out a breath, feeling the strange thrill of standing on nothing but air. Carefully, he adjusted his true breath, syncing it with the sword's qi until they moved in total harmony. Only then did he dare to ascend further.
Below him, Zhiguan Peak was shrinking fast. From up here, he could see the entire mountaintop — lanterns dotting the darkness like scattered stars. It was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen.
High-altitude wind howled past, tugging at his robes, but it couldn't shake his balance. With that, his confidence grew.
He began slowly circling the sky. Then faster. Soon, he was darting up and down, spiraling sideways, suddenly halting and shooting forward again — he played like this for a good half-hour before finally flying back down, grinning the whole way.
If not for concerns about flying recklessly at night, he might've gone full speed through all seventy-two peaks of Lianxia by now!
Even just this much... was enough to make him laugh out loud in his dreams.
Tomorrow — yes, tomorrow — he'd really let loose!
But before he could even figure out what to do next, Lin Ge was already standing at his door, waiting.
One look at Lin Ge's half-smile and Li Xun immediately knew — all that sword-flying fun in the sky hadn't gone unnoticed. Lin Ge had seen everything from the ground.
Thankfully, Lin Ge looked as laid-back as ever. He just waved his hand and said, "Come inside."
It was rare for Lin Ge to invite him in like that — Li Xun was caught off guard, almost flattered. He quickly stowed his sword and followed.
But this time... felt different.
Lin Ge didn't stop in the usual sitting room. He kept walking — straight upstairs.
Li Xun hesitated. He hadn't been up there once in the past few months. He'd always heard that the upper floor was Lin Ge's personal space — off-limits. What was different today?
Still, he only paused a beat before following.
Upstairs, Lin Ge went directly into the inner room. Li Xun didn't dare enter. He waited respectfully in the outer hall.
Moments later, Lin Ge returned — holding a jade box.
He tossed it onto the table, then sat down and suddenly asked, "Fourth One's back?"
Li Xun knew he was talking about Mingji. He quickly answered yes, though he couldn't help but smile to himself — that nickname "Fourth One" really didn't suit someone as graceful as her.
Lin Ge's voice was as lazy as ever: "Give me the sword."
Li Xun hurried to offer it with both hands. By now, he understood — Lin Ge must've sensed Mingji's return just by examining the sword.
Lin Ge drew the blade out a few inches and gave it a quick look. A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"A Dragon Return Channel? What a clever trick…"