Chen Sanshi drew the treasured sword and made a light cut across his forearm.
A sharp sting ran through his skin, leaving only a faint white mark—no real wound.
And this was with the Mountain-Suppressing Sword.
If it had been an ordinary blade, it wouldn't even have left a scratch.
"It's not always this hard," he murmured to himself. "It only reaches full toughness when the qi and blood are surging."
He continued experimenting.
Even in a normal state, his skin was far tougher than an ordinary person's—but not yet something inhuman.
"When I reach Major Achievement, that'll be the body of Vajra."
Then he sighed. "No more medicine left."
The Ministry of War had sent Tiger Blood Wine as a reward, and Xiang Tingchun had granted him two jars of it. But that was meant for those at tempering bone perfection. According to medical texts, taking it too early was not only useless but harmful—so he couldn't use it yet.
"I'll have to borrow some from a martial hall."
Centennial black ginseng—almost every household in Poyang County treated it as a family heirloom, locked away in the deepest chests.
By the time Chen Sanshi descended the mountain, it was already night.
He headed straight for the Liang family mansion, the main estate of Tianyuan Martial Hall.
That would be his first stop.
If he didn't find what he needed there, he'd try the Pan family of Yunhe Martial Hall, or the Zhao clan next.
Tianyuan Martial Hall's apothecary didn't deal in large-scale trade, but that didn't mean they lacked valuable herbs.
Avoiding two patrolling servants and a few disciples, Chen Sanshi leapt lightly onto the rooftops. His steps made no sound as he crossed the tiles—thanks to Moves as Light as a Swallow.
He hadn't even bothered to hide his weapons.
Spear strapped to his back, bow slung across his shoulder, Mountain-Suppressing Sword at his waist—everything was there.
It wasn't that he didn't worry about being discovered.
It was simply that if someone did discover him, the Liang family had better pray they didn't regret it.
Otherwise, Poyang County would wake to news of an entire household slaughtered in their sleep.
Times had changed.
When he first learned martial arts, he had to swallow his pride in front of the martial hall's people.
Now, they wouldn't even have a chance to lift a hand—one arrow or one draw of his bow would be enough to end them.
He was just borrowing a few herbs.
Hopefully, they'd be smart enough not to get in his way.
He quickly found the warehouse where herbs were stored.
The guard inside was dozing at his desk—lucky for him, it meant the Liang family's dozens of lives would be spared tonight.
Chen Sanshi slipped silently through the window, grabbed a sack, and began filling it.
Before long, the sack was stuffed to the brim.
"There really is black ginseng here—and quite a lot. This will last me for a while."
In the corner, he spotted a few ornate boxes stored separately. Opening them, he found ginseng, spirit mushrooms, and several rare antidotal treasures used to dispel all kinds of poison.
Whether he needed them or not, he took them all.
In the stillness of the Liang family's grand mansion, only one room still flickered with candlelight—a study.
Chen Sanshi hesitated, then stepped along the roof ridge, gently lifting a tile to peek inside.
At the desk sat a middle-aged man with graying hair, surrounded by messy scrolls. He clutched a folding fan in his hands, rubbing its surface absentmindedly, eyes dull and distant.
'That fan… it belonged to Liang Zhan?'
'Heh. Old man, missing your son already?'
Chen Sanshi's fingers tightened around the tile. He hesitated—then almost laughed.
"Useless thing!"
A shrill voice rang out.
A worn-looking woman stormed in from the adjoining room, slamming the door open with a kick. "You sit here every night pretending to read! What good does that do? If you really loved Zhan'er, why don't you go avenge him!"
"I'd like to!"
Liang Shengzhi's voice shook with fury. "But Xiang Tingchun is at tempering organs minor achievement! How could I be his match? And there's no evidence! He'll never admit to it!"
Xiang Tingchun?
Chen Sanshi's brows lifted slightly.
So that's how it was. The Thousand-Household had been taking the blame for him all this time.
"So what if there's no evidence?"
The woman shouted even louder. "You can find someone else to help you! Xiang Tingchun isn't invincible! There are cultivators at tempering organs beside the county magistrate and prefect—beg them if you have to!"
"No one will help me!"
Liang Shengzhi's tone broke, near tears. "Ji Guangxian and Xiang Tingchun are the same kind of men—why would they help me kill him? Even if I sold everything we own, I couldn't pay that price!"
"What about the county magistrate?"
The woman lowered her voice. "Hasn't he been calling you over recently? Can't you ask him for help?"
"Impossible!"
Liang Shengzhi slammed his fist on the desk. "The new Magistrate Xue was sent by the Cabinet itself. He barely accepts our gifts—he's too proud to get his hands dirty killing for us.
Besides, all those summons lately were to question us about the immortal treasure!
If I wanted his help, unless…"
He suddenly understood what she meant. "You're insane. Hiding an immortal treasure is a capital crime—no, a crime that wipes out nine generations! You want revenge for Zhan'er, but that would destroy the entire Liang family!"
"Family legacy?"
The woman laughed hysterically. "Liang Shengzhi, your son's dead! Who's this 'legacy' for? And the barbarians are about to attack! You think you can just hide here forever? Won't that bastard Xiang just draft you as cannon fodder?"
Liang Shengzhi sprang to his feet. "What are you doing?!"
The woman pressed a hairpin to her throat. "If you're such a coward, then I'll go see Zhan'er myself!"
"Ah—!"
Liang Shengzhi roared, overturning the desk. "Fine! You're all forcing me! Then we'll die together! Xiang Tingchun, I'll take you down with me!"
Such deep fatherly love. Such a touching scene—white-haired parents mourning their black-haired son.
Touching?
Chen Sanshi sneered coldly.
When this pack of beasts used peasants as test subjects, did they ever think those people had families too?
Even if he slaughtered every last one of them—man, woman, and child—it wouldn't earn a shred of pity. It would be cleansing the filth of the world.
But now that they'd pinned the blame on Xiang Tingchun and were tangled up with the matter of the immortal treasure, he couldn't act recklessly.
Killing them now could stir up more trouble than it was worth.
"So the magistrate really is after the immortal treasure," he mused quietly. "And he's got a tempering organs expert with him too."
"Looks like the Liang family's about to sell someone out."
"Thousand-Household Xiang… good luck."
Without another sound, Chen Sanshi vaulted off the roof and disappeared into the night, leaving the Liang mansion behind—vanishing like a shadow into the darkness.
"You want to practice swordsmanship?"
Wang Zhi, sitting on a stone stool and drinking wine, raised his head in surprise at the sudden request. "You sure about that?"
"Sure."
Chen Sanshi nodded firmly.
He had already asked Sun Li and her brother, but neither of them knew sword techniques. So he could only come to Tang Ruoshan.
Wang Zhi thought for a moment, then said, "Actually, I do have some. Come with me."
It was Chen Sanshi's first time inside Fat Wang's home, and it was unexpectedly simple.
The courtyard was untended, grass overgrown. None of the rooms had furniture—only the bedroom had a bed and a locked chest.
Wang Zhi opened the chest, rummaged through it, and pulled out a pile of martial manuals. From them, he picked out a few sword techniques and tossed them casually across the room. "Pick whichever you want. I don't have much else, but I've got plenty of manuals.
"When I packed up and left back then, they only took away anything above the tempering organs level. Everything below that, I kept."
He pointed at a slim, weathered manual. "Among these, the best one's Dian Cang Sword Technique. Same one my master used."
"Grand Commander Sun?"
Chen Sanshi asked, a bit curious. "Wasn't he a spear cultivator?"
"He was, but he also practiced sword arts. If I remember right, before breaking through to Martial Saint, he dabbled in all sorts of strange techniques."
Wang Zhi rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The Dian Cang Sword Technique came from the Cang Mountain Sect, one of the Eight Great Sects of a hundred years ago. The sect was destroyed for treason, and their martial arts ended up in the hands of the imperial court. If even my master trained in it, it must be powerful—but also extremely difficult to learn. You're not worried it'll interfere with your spear training?"
"More than that…"
Chen Sanshi frowned slightly. "I'm curious—what's the benefit of practicing multiple weapon techniques?"
A martial technique's main purpose was to push the body beyond its limits.
But once the body had already reached a high level, what more could another weapon style bring?
Surely it wouldn't increase one's physical strength again—if it did, the whole world would already know about it.
"Before reaching the Transforming Strength stage, practicing more weapon arts helps make your qi and blood more vigorous. After Transforming Strength, it deepens your true power foundation. Other than that, there's no extra benefit."
As he spoke, Wang Zhi cleaned the bandages on his arm and continued calmly, "That's why most people who learn multiple arts are those stuck at high realms with no hope of breakthrough. They do it to boost their combat power. When two fighters of the same realm battle, it often comes down to whose qi and blood reserves last longer.
"You, on the other hand, are still too low in cultivation. At this stage, it's not very meaningful.
"Even if you master another art, you can't use two at once in combat. You've only got one brain—can't split it in two.
"At best, it's good to have one long weapon and one short, so you're not helpless when someone gets close. That's your real reason, isn't it?"
"Something like that."
Chen Sanshi didn't deny it.
But in his mind, he was already piecing information together.
"People with no hope of breakthrough…"
That phrase also described the Grand Commander himself.
It wasn't until the fifteenth year of the Yongchang Era that Grand Commander Sun suddenly broke through to the legendary realm beyond Martial Saint.
Could that have had something to do with his sword practice?
It was just speculation for now.
Martial Saint was far too distant to think about.
He'd just train the sword first and see where it led.
"This one, then."
Chen Sanshi picked up the Dian Cang Sword Technique manual.
"Suit yourself."
Wang Zhi added, "With your current foundation, you'll learn faster. But how fast depends on your talent and comprehension."
"Thanks."
Chen Sanshi wasted no time.
That very day, he began practicing.
The Haoran Breathing Method worked universally. All he needed to learn were the sword stances and postures.
He remembered how, when he first began training martial arts, it had taken him nearly ten days just to execute the basic stances smoothly.
Now, learning swordsmanship—he mastered the fundamentals in half a day.
[Technique: Dian Cang Sword Technique (Uninitiated)]
[Progress: 0/50]
[Effect: None yet]
Only 50 points to reach beginner level?
He began proper training, curious to see.
To his surprise, the progress was astonishingly fast.
Each time he completed a full set of forms, his proficiency rose significantly.
At this rate, within one day, he'd reach beginner level.
"What an incredible sword."
Chen Sanshi admired the Mountain-Suppressing Sword in his hand, reluctant to put it down.
This kind of weapon couldn't be measured by gold or silver—it was priceless.
"Still… what a waste," he chuckled to himself.
He'd heard that the Ninth Prince had already been escorted straight to the capital.
That was good news.
If the prince had remained in Poyang, the barbarians would have undoubtedly increased their troops again. Stronger commanders would follow, and not even Xiang Tingchun could have held the line.
Now that the prince was gone, if the Yu Wen clan wanted him back, they'd have to appeal directly to the Emperor himself.
Of course, that didn't mean Poyang was safe.
Far from it.
Its fate still hung by a thread.
The Xi River tribe had at least 5,000 soldiers—probably more in truth.
And the Thousand-Household Division barely had 1,000 men.
Even with the advantage of defending from the city walls, the pressure would be immense.
Inside and outside the Great Wall, everyone was busy reinforcing fortifications.
The great war was about to begin.