"Focus."
The voice that suddenly sounded in his ear startled him back to attention. The moment he regained focus, he met the other's gaze, which seemed to survey the entire scene.
Shū Chánggē glanced around. It seemed only he had heard Instructor Yan's voice. It was probably some Sound Transmission Formula.
He put away his constantly straying thoughts and began to diligently repeat the Sword Moves Instructor Yan had demonstrated, over and over.
After teaching them the posture for holding a sword, Instructor Yan taught them another Sword Art and then had them practice it like a copycat, over and over.
"Only with the Precise Sword Stance do you have the qualification to learn the sword. How can someone whose sword is not precise talk about Sword Arts?"
Under Instructor Yan's supervision, everyone swung their wooden swords with a look of numb mechanical repetition. The wooden swords were not light; they were likely made to be this tiring to wield.
The people in the Sword Training Ground were all mortals, not particularly strong to begin with. Many felt their hands and legs go weak after just a few swings, and their stances became severely distorted.
"You can be slow, but your stance must be correct. Those who can't achieve it will practice more. I will tell you to stop when you reach your limit."
Instructor Yan corrected several disciples whose stances were askew. He stood with his hands behind his back on the Bluestone Platform. Although his expression was calm, his words were slightly gentle.
There were hundreds of disciples on the field, and nearly every one of them had been corrected by him, some at least twice. He guided them repeatedly with Spiritual Power, yet he showed no signs of impatience.
Shū Chánggē's arms were now sore and numb, and he could barely hold the wooden sword. Inevitably, his stance would go wrong again.
Sensing a correction to his sword posture through a golden stream of Spiritual Power directed at his arm, Shū Chánggē took a deep breath and steadily maintained the correct sword stance.
Extend sword, retract sword, extend sword, retract sword. As long as the movements became memory, there would be no worry of making mistakes later.
Successively, people were called to stop. Those who stopped were all pale-faced, trembling, their arms limp.
The moment they heard they could stop, their bodies went limp, and they collapsed onto the ground, their wooden swords clattering onto the bluestone.
"Put your swords away!" A sharp gaze fell upon these disciples again, startling them into fumbling with their hands and feet to retrieve their wooden swords, hugging them tightly.
"Nnngh... I can't do it anymore, I really can't..."
Wèi Shàng, eyes glazed over, muttered incessantly. Shū Chánggē let it go in one ear and out the other, ignoring this fellow whose lips were still rosy.
On the other side, Lán Yán was also unsteady, but he forced himself to continue. He persisted until the so-called limit. Of the three, Wèi Shàng was surprisingly in the best condition, appearing to be able to last the longest.
Unintentionally, his thoughts began to wander again. Shū Chánggē suddenly heard the word "Focus" again. He blinked, quickly recalling his concentration.
Perhaps due to his innate perception, he was always paying attention to his surroundings while also letting his mind wander. This had its benefits, but in situations requiring concentration, it was difficult to control.
Lost in thought about his condition, Shū Chánggē was distracted for a moment, his thoughts becoming complex again. He quickly reined them in. To prevent further mistakes, he simply focused his attention on the sensation of extending and retracting his sword, attempting to memorize the fluctuations in the Sword Moves.
The wooden sword gradually enlarged in his vision. Shū Chánggē seemed to see the wood grain on the sword, or perhaps it was his imagination.
Each sword extension would stir the surrounding Spiritual Qi, the disturbance varying in magnitude. The more precise the stance and the more focused he was, the smaller the disturbance.
His keen perception perfectly helped him observe this subtle phenomenon.
With a thought, Shū Chánggē also employed the Breathing Method he had previously comprehended, breathing slowly in rhythm with the extension and retraction of his sword.
His Sword Moves began to slow down. They were much slower than his previous extensions. It was almost as if others had swung twice, yet Shū Chánggē had only just retracted his first sword.
Slowly, the rhythm became more synchronized. Shū Chánggē seemed to vaguely understand Instructor Yan's words about the sword being a part of the body.
Holding the wooden sword, each sword move became easier than before. Although he was still tired, the presence of the wooden sword was almost negligible, as if it were an extension of his arm.
His stance gradually became more fluid, and distorted moves appeared less frequently. However, Shū Chánggē's sword extension speed remained slow, and he had no intention of speeding up.
Now, matching the speed of the Breathing Method is the correct way.
Shū Chánggē thought inexplicably.
Lost in the moment, Shū Chánggē immersed himself in his own world. External distractions no longer caused him to constantly drift. The intense concentration allowed him to deepen his understanding of this plain Sword Move, though he couldn't articulate exactly what that understanding entailed.
On the Bluestone Platform, Instructor Yan focused his attention on Shū Chánggē, casually guiding a few disciples' stances, effortlessly multitasking.
Watching the other's Sword Moves gradually become fluid and self-regulated, the frequent distractions that had plagued him disappeared. Each sword extension was silent, causing almost no disturbance in the Spiritual Qi.
In Instructor Yan's eyes, Shū Chánggē's learning progress had significantly surpassed all other disciples. His comprehension of the Sword Moves was even better than that of the noble family disciples who had trained their bodies with heavenly materials and earthly treasures since childhood.
"That's enough. Well done."
Shū Chánggē, who had been immersed in the harmonious resonance of the Breathing Method and the wooden sword, heard that familiar voice again.
The moment his state of deep immersion was broken, the first thing he felt was the soreness and pain in his limbs. It was agony to move even slightly.
This Chief Disciple must be a very responsible person...
Feeling the discomfort erupting from all parts of his body, Shū Chánggē made light of it, thinking.
Looking at him now, the other's expression was still the same, his features cold and meticulous. Even his handsome appearance couldn't impress the female disciples who were now in no condition to care.
Shū Chánggē, standing in place, stomped his foot, feeling a little strength return. He slowly began to move around.
It was just simple movements to relieve muscle soreness. Lán Yán had stopped a little before him and was now relaxing his body just like him. Only Wèi Shàng was still persisting among the three.
Lán Yán's own skills and physical condition were better than Shū Chánggē's, so it was within Shū Chánggē's expectations that he could last longer.
Shū Chánggē believed that if he hadn't accidentally combined the Breathing Method with the Sword Moves, he would certainly have been the first of the three to reach his limit.
He noticed that among those still persisting, including Wèi Shàng, they were all from noble families. It was likely that their elders had prepared the foundation for their family disciples in advance.
Shū Chánggē felt no dissatisfaction. Such things were commonplace, and there was no such thing as fairness.
If he were in their position, and had the ability to do so, he wouldn't hesitate to use every method to give himself a head start.
If nothing else, Spirit Root talent alone was a natural and overwhelming unfairness.
"Stand up."
Shū Chánggē frowned as he looked at Wèi Shàng, who had collapsed on the ground like a starfish the moment he stopped. He poked Wèi Shàng with his wooden sword.
Wèi Shàng stuck out his tongue, rolled his eyes, and reluctantly got up. "This is really too tiring, much scarier than my home."
Even after all this, he didn't dare to let go of his wooden sword. He obediently held the sword while stretching his arms and legs in place.
If their swords were not put away properly, they would immediately be reprimanded. This constant, repetitive instruction had led to everyone on the field treating their ordinary wooden swords with extreme care, not daring to slacken.
"Training ends for today. Keep your swords with you."
Instructor Yan retracted his Spiritual Power, his expression still unsoftened. He coldly uttered a reminder and left, disappearing without anyone seeing when.
The new disciples standing on the Sword Training Ground looked haggard, grimacing with pain. They looked like they had been put through the wringer all afternoon. The entire Sword Training Ground was filled with complaints.
"Let's go, let's go, we're going to the mess hall to eat. After eating, hurry back to Qizi Courtyard. I feel like I'm about to die."
Wèi Shàng, mustering his strength, swung his arms and urged his two companions to hurry and leave.
"Oh right, we absolutely must keep these wooden swords with us. Never forget them."
Wèi Shàng, shuffling his feet slowly, looked back and cautioned.
"I heard that Futian Immortal Sect regards swords with no less importance than the Sword Sect. If any disciple dares to show disrespect to any sword-like object, they will be punished!"
Shū Chánggē nodded, indicating he understood. Lán Yán remained silent. Wèi Shàng didn't pay it any mind as long as he heard them.
Many were sharp enough. Hearing Instructor Yan's words, coupled with the constant repetition throughout the afternoon, they already knew how to treat the swords in their hands.
Even if they weren't Sword Cultivators at the moment, and what they held wasn't a good sword, and they didn't have any particular affection for swords, for their own benefit, many treated their swords as treasures, so as not to make mistakes.
As for those who couldn't grasp the deeper meaning and handled their wooden swords carelessly, if they saw them, they would offer a few words of advice. What happened afterward was none of their business.
After filling their stomachs and returning to their dormitories, the three lined up to wash up, and then each lay on their beds, sleeping soundly. Even Lán Yán, who always wore a gloomy expression, couldn't hide his exhaustion.
The next day, those who woke up looked like walking corpses, taking staggered steps, wobbling as they carried their wooden swords and wandered the island of Weijian Mountain.
Shū Chánggē and his two companions were uninterested in this strange sight, as they were part of it.
It's worth mentioning that the Breathing Method Shū Chánggē had comprehended had circulated through the night, greatly alleviating the soreness in his muscles. He looked much more sprightly than Wèi Shàng and Lán Yán.
The next day's lessons involved a lot of knowledge. Those with poor memory could only return to the Hall of Universal Education in the afternoon after sword training to rewatch it.
Today's main content was a lecture on the sect's rules. An aged narrator explained each rule, making the disciples drowsy, nodding like chickens pecking at rice.
Wèi Shàng was also swaying precariously, propping his chin with his hand, his eyes half-closed.
Shū Chánggē noticed, occasionally poking him with his wooden sword to prevent him from falling asleep completely. Lán Yán was much better, at least able to pinch himself awake.
Shū Chánggē, his mind wandering, tried to deliberately circulate the Breathing Method while watching the rules on the Shadow Screen. After several attempts, he failed and finally gave up, focusing diligently on the screen.
Futian Immortal Sect's rules were not numerous, but they had many detailed clauses. When explained, they warned that any misuse of Spiritual Power would result in expulsion from the sect.
As he listened, it seemed that any mistake within the sect carried the severe punishment of having one's cultivation crippled and being expelled from the sect.
Shū Chánggē also saw rules about abandoning or disrespecting swords, punishable by a month's stipend, demotion, or expulsion from the sect. This was sufficient proof of Futian Immortal Sect's importance placed upon the Way of the Sword.
No wonder. The mountain gate had two swords, the plaza had another sword, and even the sect emblem was three swords. If one still couldn't discern Futian Immortal Sect's attitude, then such a foolish disciple was not worth keeping.
"Sigh, my torment has begun again."
Wèi Shàng sighed mournfully, following behind Shū Chánggē. The three of them were starting their afternoon lessons.
Once again subjected to the same boring and numb training as yesterday, most of the people around them had similar expressions, all with gloomy faces, clearly showing they truly didn't want to practice swords.
"The sword thrives on diligent study and practice."
"Sigh... I definitely won't be a Sword Cultivator later! It's too miserable."
Frowning, Wèi Shàng heard Shū Chánggē's opposing words of comfort and swore bitterly.
"Strong."
"Sword Cultivators are tiring and poor!" Wèi Shàng said righteously, believing he had found a good reason to retort.
Seeing him spirited and ready to argue, Shū Chánggē ignored him, letting him grumble on his own. He would stop when he was done.
The afternoon's training was still mechanical and repetitive sword practice. As mortals without cultivation, their memory was only what mortals possessed.
Although there were only thirty-six moves, if they didn't practice them many times, many people would forget the old moves after learning new ones. No wonder it took a year to urge disciples to practice swords.
Compared to yesterday, most disciples had found their rhythm with the Sword Moves from yesterday. A smaller portion were slowly mastering them under Instructor Yan's guidance, allowing new Sword Moves to be taught.
With a full schedule of learning, the day quickly passed. The Breathing Method Shū Chánggē had accidentally comprehended was exceptionally useful.
It not only relieved physical fatigue but also greatly improved his comprehension of Sword Arts.
After daily sword practice, Shū Chánggē could feel the Muscle and Marrow Cleansing effect of the Breathing Method itself greatly enhanced, which came as a pleasant surprise.
"You're amazing, Chánggē. You're learning the best among us now."
Wèi Shàng, slumped listlessly on the table, spoke weakly. Another day of classes had ended, and he was utterly exhausted.
Unlike Shū Chánggē, who was radiant and exceptionally refined. He didn't know if it was his imagination, but he felt the other had become even more handsome, practically glowing from the inside out.
"..."
Shū Chánggē pondered in silence. The Breathing Method was something he had comprehended by chance. Submitting it to the sect wouldn't affect him negatively; instead, he could gain the favor of Futian Immortal Sect and Merit Points.
The points for unrecorded cultivation methods in the sect were not insignificant. The worst were fifty Merit Points, while normal sect missions only awarded five or ten points.
He himself had only stumbled upon the comprehension. If he wanted to inform others, he didn't know where to start. Perhaps he would need to find someone capable of assisting him.
...The night was deep, the stars shone brightly. The sleeping Qizi Courtyard was peaceful. On the entire Weijian Mountain, only the gentle sound of flowing water and the breathing of the spiritual flowers and herbs could be heard.
Shū Chánggē walked out with light steps, heading directly towards the Sword Training Ground. The Wooden Puppets he passed watched him leave, making no sound and offering no obstruction, merely documenting his departure for others.
The bluestone slabs of the Sword Training Ground were covered by the moonlight, looking like white jade bricks.
Futian Immortal Sect had seasons, but regardless of the season, the sun and moon in the sky never changed, following each other day after day like neighbors.
In the silent Sword Training Ground, a single point of light was exceptionally conspicuous. A soft white glow emanated from a simple, even crude, small thatched hut. It was the familiar Night-Illuminating Stone.
This was Instructor Yan's residence, which had suddenly appeared near the Sword Training Ground one day.
"I reside here day and night. You can come to me with any questions about sword cultivation."
This was what Instructor Yan had said at the time. However, whether it was due to his chilling aura or the simplicity of the current Sword Moves, no one had come to him for clarification until now. Shū Chánggē estimated he was the first.
"Disciple Shū Chánggē pays respects to Instructor Yan."
Stopping before the thatched hut, Shū Chánggē bowed. This was one of the etiquette lessons taught in Futian Immortal Sect's general knowledge classes. Having a foundation, Shū Chánggē performed it perfectly, every movement flawless.
There was no verbal reply, but the wooden door of the hut opened silently. Shū Chánggē rubbed his arm; the atmosphere in this place always made him feel a chill.
Stepping inside, he found a simple interior. Besides a couch, there were only the Night-Illuminating Stones on the wall and several floor cushions in the corner.
Instructor Yan was cultivating on the couch, looking no different from during the day. He was now watching Shū Chánggē. Although still expressionless, he somehow seemed much gentler.
"What is it?"
"Disciple has accidentally comprehended a cultivation method that has greatly aided my daily studies. I wish to submit it to the sect for others to learn, but I am unsure how to express it."
The true intention was certainly not to share so readily, but describing it this way made him appear more devoted to his fellow disciples and the sect, which was beneficial. A few white lies wouldn't hurt.
Instructor Yan's expression remained unchanged. He gestured for Shū Chánggē to step closer and placed a hand on his wrist. A slight stinging sensation spread from the point of contact, reaching deep into his bones.
"Do not resist. Operate the cultivation method."
A gleam of spiritual light flashed in Instructor Yan's eyes, disappearing in an instant, almost making Shū Chánggē think he had imagined it.
Shū Chánggē collected his thoughts and implemented the Breathing Method. With each inhale and exhale, his breathing was orderly, expelling minute impurities.
Instructor Yan silently recorded the operational route of this cultivation method, his brow slightly softening. It was undoubtedly gratifying to have talented disciples in the sect.
After a quarter of an hour, the semi-immersed Shū Chánggē finally heard a cool, "Done."
Having verified the operational route several times, Instructor Yan inscribed the cultivation method onto a small white jade slip and looked at Shū Chánggē again.
"This cultivation method is quite marvelous..." After a moment of contemplation, "We will know how the Merit Points will be awarded after the sect elders decide."
His gaze was calm and unwavering. Even when a newly initiated disciple claimed to have comprehended a cultivation method, he showed no significant reaction.
Being in Futian Immortal Sect, he had witnessed countless geniuses. Talented disciples like Shū Chánggē were not unheard of in the Immortal Sect.
This was also the biggest reason why Shū Chánggē could generously give his cultivation method to the sect.
"Unite your mind and spirit to achieve success. In terms of cultivation practice, remember to do as you do when practicing your sword."
Just as Shū Chánggē thought the other wouldn't speak again and was about to take his leave, he abruptly heard the voice. Looking up, Instructor Yan was gazing intently at him.
"Your talent is excellent. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."
Shū Chánggē lowered his gaze and thought for a moment. If he had questions, it was the one he had pondered since childhood.He explained his extreme sensitivity to food and other matters, his cleanliness/obsessive cleanliness), while casually describing the superior perception his body provided, glossing over it.
"..." Instructor Yan closed his eyes, searching his memory for fragments of information about such a constitution, unsure if it was accurate.
"Rest assured. I have a slight guess. I will inform you once it's confirmed."
...Having resolved the matter, Shū Chánggē stood at the entrance of the small thatched hut. He looked back; the light from the Night-Illuminating Stone shone as usual.
This silent Chief Senior Brother, despite his cold demeanor that made people hesitant to approach, was actually quite kind when one truly interacted with him.