Meng Fan had been waiting for Senior Brother Luo all morning, so he asked directly, "Senior Brother Luo, as a sword-guarding disciple of the Sword Pavilion, how do I go about receiving a cultivation manual after reaching the Qi Refinement stage?"
"No need to receive anything. I have one right here. Wait!"
With that, Senior Brother Luo returned to his room and, a moment later, came out with a small booklet which he tossed to Meng Fan.
"Actually, you could go to the Scripture Pavilion and get a copy of the 'Shushan Qi Refinement Technique,' but that is the most basic cultivation method. It's not as good as this 'Spirit Wind Profound Technique' I have here."
"Since you have a handyman-grade spiritual root and no specific elemental affinity, you can practice any technique."
"Instead of practicing a common, run-of-the-mill technique like the Shushan Qi Refinement Technique, you’d be better off practicing this one of mine!"
Hearing Senior Brother Luo’s words, a look of pleasant surprise appeared on Meng Fan’s face. The Spirit Wind Profound Technique sounded far more advanced than the Shushan Qi Refinement Technique. However, he still had some reservations.
"This... Senior Brother Luo, I don't think the Shushan Sword Sect allows the private passing on of cultivation manuals. If the sect finds out, there might be punishment," Meng Fan asked cautiously.
Senior Brother Luo’s lips curled into a slight smile.
"Don't worry. This Spirit Wind Profound Technique was given to me by Old Lin; it wasn't passed down by the sect. Even if you were to kill someone over it, there would be no punishment."
"Old Lin?" Meng Fan asked curiously.
Senior Brother Luo laughed. "Old Lin is upstairs. You will meet him when you have time later. You can practice this Spirit Wind Profound Technique without any worries."
"All right, thank you, Senior Brother Luo."
"No need to thank me. Even if I didn't give it to you, Old Lin would have eventually, seeing as you are a disciple of the Sword Pavilion."
...
In the afternoon, a visitor arrived at the Sword Pavilion.
"What is your business here?" Meng Fan asked the person approaching.
"You must be Meng Fan?" The newcomer cast a look at him with a hostile expression.
Meng Fan raised an eyebrow. He knew his name? And judging by that tone, he seemed to have come specifically for him. Meng Fan roughly guessed who the man was—likely Yang Shi, the true owner of the broken sword that Yang Fei had dropped yesterday.
Meng Fan replied expressionlessly, "I am Meng Fan. You were looking for me?"
"Where is my sword?"
"What sword?"
"Yesterday, I sent Yang Fei to help me exchange my sword. Not only did you beat him up, but you also stole the sword. What kind of logic is that?"
Sure enough, it was Yang Shi. Meng Fan smiled, his face showing a trace of indifference.
"Yang Fei attacked me first. I taught him a lesson, and he left the sword at the Sword Pavilion in his haste to flee. That is his problem. He lost the sword, so if you want to find it, you should go ask him. If you want to claim a sword here at the Sword Pavilion, you must hand over ten Spirit Stones. That is the rule!"
Yang Shi glared at Meng Fan, his voice cold. "My sword is clearly with you. An exchange only requires three Spirit Stones."
"An exchange does indeed cost only three Spirit Stones, but where is your sword?" Meng Fan replied coldly.
"You clearly know my sword is with you!"
Meng Fan stared at him without a change in expression. "Then that means you have no sword. If you don't have a sword, you cannot exchange. You can only retrieve a new one, and retrieving a sword costs ten Spirit Stones."
Yang Shi stared at Meng Fan, his face full of fury. "Are you playing with me?"
"I am simply telling you the rules of the Sword Pavilion," Meng Fan said.
Yang Shi stepped forward. "You’re just a handyman disciple. How dare you be so disrespectful to me? Are you tired of living?"
Meng Fan shook his head and looked at him coldly. "I am now a sword-guarding disciple of the Sword Pavilion."
"Still a piece of trash!"
Just then, Senior Brother Luo walked out of his room, shouting in annoyance, "What is all this noise? This is the Sword Pavilion, not the dining hall!"
He walked up to Meng Fan and asked, "What is going on?"
Meng Fan explained the whole sequence of events, including how Yang Fei had initiated the fight, only to be beaten, eventually leaving the sword behind.
After hearing this, Senior Brother Luo looked at Yang Shi coldly. "You should be responsible for your own sword. Why hand it over to someone else so easily? You lost it, and now you have the nerve to blame others?"
Yang Shi said, somewhat stubbornly, "But the sword was clearly left at the Sword Pavilion."
Senior Brother Luo retorted sharply, "Wherever it was left, you are the one who lost it, and you must take responsibility. Ten Spirit Stones to get a new sword; if you don't have them, get out!"
Having said that, Senior Brother Luo turned back to Meng Fan. "You have issues too, kid. You're too kind. That guy dared to lay a hand on you yesterday—haha, if someone dares to run wild in the Sword Pavilion, you could kill them on the spot, and there wouldn't be any trouble at all!"
Although these words were addressed to Meng Fan, Yang Shi, standing nearby, broke out in a cold sweat. He felt that this old man was threatening him, and crucially, he was actually intimidated by that threat. Without another word, he turned and left. If it had been just Meng Fan, he certainly would have tried to pick a fight, but this old man was clearly not to be trifled with. Better not to ask for trouble.
After Yang Shi left, Meng Fan asked Senior Brother Luo, "Senior Brother, if I had killed Yang Fei yesterday, would I really have faced no punishment?"
Senior Brother Luo chuckled. He glanced at Yang Shi’s retreating back and then turned to Meng Fan. "Kid, you've only just arrived at the Sword Pavilion; you don't know how terrifying it really is. Anyone who dares to run wild here is essentially a dead man!"
"I can tell you with full responsibility: if anyone dares to cause trouble in the Sword Pavilion again, feel free to kill them. It won't be a problem at all. Even the Enforcement Hall of the Shushan Sword Sect has to steer clear of the Sword Pavilion!"
"Of course, that is assuming you have the strength. Otherwise, if you die at someone else's hands, there's nowhere to seek justice."
Senior Brother Luo's words made Meng Fan’s heart race with excitement. He hadn't expected that by being tricked into the Sword Pavilion, he had actually found a powerful patron—though the patron Senior Brother Luo was talking about was that "Old Lin" living upstairs!
Soon, the sun set and the Sword Pavilion closed for the day. Meng Fan returned to his room and began practicing the "Spirit Wind Profound Technique." This was his first formal contact with a cultivation method, and he felt a flutter of excitement. The wind-attribute technique didn't offer immense attack power, but its speed was extraordinary, which Meng Fan was quite satisfied with. If he had practiced the Shushan Qi Refinement Technique, he would have had neither attack power nor speed—a complete disadvantage.
While practicing, a warmth appeared in his lower abdomen once again. It clearly boosted his cultivation speed. Under normal circumstances, with his handyman-grade spiritual root, his progress would be at a snail's pace—he could practice all night without any results. But with the aid of this warmth, he could clearly feel the thread of True Qi within his body gradually strengthening. However, this effect only lasted until midnight before fading, as the warmth in his abdomen had been completely consumed.
Meng Fan opened his eyes, feeling unsatisfied. After experiencing the accelerated cultivation of the first half of the night, the near-zero speed of the second half felt desperate.
"That warmth is clearly the energy that enters my body whenever I draw a sword. Who would have thought this energy would have the effect of accelerating cultivation!"
Meng Fan was immediately filled with motivation. He decided that from today on, he would polish forty swords a day. The worst thing for a person is to see no hope, but once hope appears, the drive is unstoppable.
Early the next morning, Meng Fan began polishing. By the thirteenth sword, the long-awaited Sword Intent—the aura of the blade—emerged. Meng Fan usually steered clear of the obviously powerful swords, planning to save them for when he was stronger. But there were always exceptions. Occasionally, unassuming-looking swords would hide a sharp, murderous aura. Even a common sword, if it had tasted enough blood and killed enough people, would be filled with malice. Just like the White Night Sword he had polished previously, which was suspected to be the first sword of the Divine Lord of Eternal Night in his youth.
This time, the sword Meng Fan was polishing looked just as ordinary as the White Night Sword, but it had experienced countless slaughters and was stained with endless blood.
[Sword Name: Black Wind.]
...
A surge of malice, the Sword Intent of the Black Wind sword, rushed into Meng Fan. As it entered his body, he trembled. A pain he had never felt before spread through him, and he felt as if he were suffocating. The malice from this sword was far more terrifying than any he had encountered before!
The [Divine Sword Dao] was activated, beginning to refine the malice of the Black Wind sword. But this time, it was far more difficult. Meng Fan felt as if his body was being bitten by a thousand ants, causing him to tremble and spasm. Simultaneously, a scene appeared in his mind.
On a cliff, a man in green robes pointed his sword at a woman in a white dress. The woman looked at the man with a look of utter despair, her face covered in tears.
"Li Qingyun, are you really so heartless? I am your wife, and I am carrying your child!"
The man’s expression was complex, showing a hint of hesitation, but it quickly faded into cold indifference. He said coldly, "Qiu'er, I'm sorry. I hope you won't meet me in your next life."
The woman named Qiu'er touched her belly. "Li Qingyun, do it then. I don't believe you can be so cruel as to kill your own wife and child!"
"I must do this. I must master the 'Supreme Heartless Sword.' I have already sacrificed too much for this technique."
Qiu'er cried out in anger, "What have you sacrificed? Is a sword technique really that important?"
"Qiu'er, there is something I have been keeping from you. The murderer who wiped out my Li family was not the notorious Blood Demon of the martial world." At this point, Li Qingyun sighed, his expression incredibly complex.
Hearing this, an incredible thought popped into Qiu'er’s mind. She stared at Li Qingyun in horror, as if looking at a demon crawled out of hell!
"It seems you have guessed it. I destroyed the Li family with my own hands. I wiped out my own clan just to master the 'Supreme Heartless Sword' so that I would have the power to become the Sect Master of the Wuji Sword Sect. Unfortunately, until now, I still haven't mastered this technique. Because I am not heartless enough! Because you are still alive!"
Li Qingyun’s words shattered the last of Qiu'er’s faith. In that moment, she was as if soulless, turned into a walking corpse. The man she loved deeply was a horrific monster; her love was nothing but a joke. Could a person who could slaughter his own family even be considered human? The most terrifying demon in the world was nothing compared to this!
She slowly closed her eyes. At this moment, she felt that death was her only release and destination. Even if she lived, what was the point? But she pitied the unborn child in her womb! Whether the child was born or not, it was a total tragedy.
A flash of sword light bloomed on the cliff. This was the Supreme Heartless Sword, the technique Li Qingyun had longed for! At this moment, a crazed, wild smile appeared on his face. He had mastered it. With the strike of this sword, he had succeeded.
The blade pierced Qiu'er’s heart mercilessly. A flower of blood bloomed on her white dress—sadly beautiful, dazzling, like the legendary Manjusaka, the red flower of the other shore.
"I succeeded!" Li Qingyun’s face showed a twisted, perverted satisfaction. He pushed Qiu'er’s body, and it plummeted from the cliff. He had succeeded. Qiu'er was dead. The last shred of humanity in Li Qingyun was buried forever.
Back in the first level of the Sword Pavilion, Meng Fan shuddered. He slumped to the ground, gasping for air, his whole body shaking. Pain, violence, coldness, madness, heartlessness... various emotions clashed in his mind, giving him a splitting headache and bringing him to the point of collapse.
Senior Brother Luo, who had just walked out of his room, saw Meng Fan slumped on the floor with a sword in his hand and shook his head with a bitter smile. He was not surprised at all. As a sword-guarding disciple, one often encountered such situations while polishing swords. He had gone through the same thing himself! In fact, Meng Fan was doing much better than he had; when he first joined the Sword Pavilion, he had been tortured to the brink of death. Meng Fan’s state was just a minor scene, so he didn't take it to heart.
Meng Fan, sitting on the floor, took a long while to recover. He stood up unsteadily, polished the Black Wind sword one more time, and placed it back on the wooden rack. When he pulled the sword, as expected, a flow of energy entered his body. This was the "warmth" that helped his cultivation, which was why he had been working so hard, increasing his quota from twenty to forty swords a day!
Senior Brother Luo didn't spare another glance at Meng Fan and went off to wash up. Meng Fan did not continue polishing; he pulled up a stool and sat down to rest. The malice from the Black Wind sword had affected him significantly—more than the White Night sword. If an ordinary handyman disciple were to become a sword-guarding disciple and encounter such malice, they would be dead. If not for [Divine Sword Dao], Meng Fan would be a corpse too. Even with it, he was still shaken and had suffered some minor internal injuries. It was truly terrifying!
The "Supreme Heartless Sword." It wasn't the Black Wind sword that was terrifying, but the technique itself. Severing all emotions, slaughtering one’s own family, killing one’s own wife and child. How could there be such a vicious sword technique in the world? In truth, the most vicious thing wasn't the sword technique, but the human heart. The technique itself wasn't frightening; the person cruel enough to practice it was the true monster!
Meng Fan sat on the stool, gasping for air; even now, he had not fully calmed down. Li Qingyun. Wuji Sword Sect. These two names had appeared in the memory of the malice. Both were famous existences. The Wuji Sword Sect, like the Shushan Sword Sect, was a renowned orthodox sect of the Sword Dao. And Li Qingyun was the Sect Master. With such a deranged person as Sect Master, could the Wuji Sword Sect truly be called "orthodox"?
Meng Fan’s lips curled in a subconscious, mocking sneer. This was what they called "hypocritical," wasn't it? Truth be told, in that flash of memory, Meng Fan had felt immense anger. He had the urge to chop Li Qingyun down with one strike! This wasn't meddling; he had lived through the memory, felt it deeply—empathized with it!
Unfortunately, he didn't have the strength. Li Qingyun was the master of the Wuji Sword Sect, whose strength was no less than the Sect Master of Shushan. Meng Fan was but an ant in front of him. But that was only for now! Give him sixty years, and he had the confidence to surpass Li Qingyun.
Looking at the Black Wind sword, Meng Fan felt a sense of wonder. The Sword Pavilion of the Shushan Sword Sect was truly worthy of its reputation as the place that collected all the famous swords of the world. Even on the lowest level, one could find the old swords of such major figures. Although these were just the swords they used when they were young and weak, the fact that the Shushan Sword Pavilion could collect them proved its terrifying reach!
"Supreme Heartless Sword," Meng Fan murmured to himself. After refining the malice of the Black Wind sword and witnessing that memory, he had naturally gained something. He had obtained a sliver of the "Supreme Heartless Sword Intent." Although it was only a sliver, not the complete intent, it was the most important "seed."
The "Supreme Heartless Sword" was not a set of moves, but an Intent. It was formless! Truly profound sword techniques had no moves, only Intent. Those who could cultivate Sword Intent were absolute prodigies of the Sword Dao. If Meng Fan practiced the technique, he would definitely be able to cultivate the Supreme Heartless Sword Intent. But Meng Fan was an orphan with no family. He didn't even have the chance to be heartless. For him, there was only one way to truly cultivate this Intent: to fall in love with someone and then kill that person with his own hands. That would make the Intent complete!
Would Meng Fan do that? Of course not. Even television dramas wouldn't dare to write such a twisted, melodramatic plot. Why would Meng Fan do it? Torturing himself was no fun. With [Divine Sword Dao], he wouldn't lack Sword Intent in the future; there was no need to torture himself like that.
"However, suffering this much pain wasn't entirely without gain," Meng Fan smiled, feeling a bit uplifted. He didn't intend to cultivate the technique or let the seed grow, but he could use this seed to unleash a single, powerful attack of the Supreme Heartless Sword Intent. If he chose this path, the "Sword Intent Seed" would be a one-time-use weapon. While it felt like a slight waste, for someone like Meng Fan who had no plans to practice the technique, this was the most suitable way to use it!
"I have one sword strike that can make me invincible among the outer disciples," Meng Fan thought triumphantly. Perhaps, with this burst of intent, he could even challenge inner disciples of the Shushan Sword Sect.
"This Sword Pavilion really is my lucky place!"
Meng Fan had only been in the Sword Pavilion for three days, but in these short three days, he had truly been reborn.
After resting for over an hour, a disciple walked into the Sword Pavilion. Meng Fan had regained some strength; he stood up and asked the arriving disciple:
"What is your business here in the Sword Pavilion?"