The next day, Han Feng woke up bright and early. He hurriedly dressed and began tapping on the ring on his finger.
"Teacher, are you awake?"
After several calls, wisps of blue smoke finally drifted out of the ring and materialized in the air.
Chu Yang stretched his arms and let out a long yawn.
"You brat, why are you waking the old man up so early?"
Han Feng was speechless. He rolled his eyes at Chu Yang and said, "Teacher, didn't you say you were going to teach me cultivation today?"
"Huh?"
"Did I say that?"
Chu Yang stroked his forehead, playing dumb.
Disgust deepened in Han Feng's eyes as he stared expressionlessly at Chu Yang.
Chu Yang stretched again, yawning nonstop, and said, "Aren't we going to practice? Then why aren't we moving?"
Han Feng wore a puzzled expression and asked, "Go where?"
Chu Yang slapped Han Feng on the forehead and snapped angrily, "Aren't you trying to cultivate? Why are you just standing around here?"
Han Feng clutched his forehead, on the verge of tears. "If you don't say where we're going, how am I supposed to know?"
"Alright, fine!"
Looking awkward, Chu Yang scratched the back of his head and chuckled foolishly.
Han Feng's mind was in turmoil. Having such an unreliable master filled him with bitterness.
After pondering for a long time, Chu Yang said, "Well then, let's go find a place with a waterfall!"
Han Feng was utterly baffled, having no idea what Chu Yang was up to. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to trust him anyway.
After walking for a long time, Han Feng carried his long sword outside the city to a place with rushing water.
Following the current for a long while, they finally reached the drop.
Han Feng leaped over to the pool where the water gathered and looked up. The massive cascading water was essentially a small waterfall.
Han Feng tapped the ring, and Chu Yang drifted out of it. After studying the scene for a moment, Chu Yang wore a satisfied expression.
"When do we start?"
Han Feng was impatient. After all, he had a burning desire to grow stronger so that he could one day take back his trampled dignity from the Qiu Family.
"Right now, of course. Strip off your clothes," Chu Yang said with a wave of his hand.
"Strip?"
Han Feng froze in a daze. A moment later, he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his eyes flashing with a strange look.
"Teacher, that's not my thing."
Chu Yang gave Han Feng's back of the head another slap and snapped, "What are you thinking?"
Chu Yang was amused by Han Feng's reaction.
"Then why did you tell me to take off my clothes?"
Han Feng looked bewildered, having no idea what Chu Yang was up to.
Chu Yang pressed a hand to his forehead, utterly speechless.
"Did you plan to jump in with your clothes on?"
"Jump in?"
Confusion deepened in Han Feng's eyes, and he had no clue what trick Chu Yang had up his sleeve.
Chu Yang gave a light cough, shifted into a serious expression, and said, "Today's cultivation lesson is: sever the waterfall!"
Han Feng felt his head spin. Was this unreliable master still half-asleep?
"Teacher, water is a fluid. How could anyone possibly cut through it?"
Han Feng simply didn't believe it was possible.
Seeing Han Feng's disbelief, Chu Yang reached out with a beckoning motion, and the long sword on Han Feng's back began to tremble.
In an instant, the sword flew off Han Feng's back and came before Chu Yang. Chu Yang smoothly caught the hilt in his hand and drifted toward the waterfall.
"Brat, watch closely."
Chu Yang stood with the sword held upright before him, and instantly the blade was enveloped in abundant spiritual energy.
As Chu Yang's spiritual energy poured in, the strange patterns running along the sword began to glow.
"Slash!"
With a massive sweep of Chu Yang's hand, a surging wave of sword qi erupted and hurtled straight toward the waterfall.
Crack!
That single slash of sword qi cut the waterfall cleanly in half. For a split second, the water seemed to freeze: the upper half remained suspended at the edge of the cliff, while the lower half vanished entirely, flowing backward against the upper stream.
After a long moment, the water slowly resumed its descent, crashing down past the spot where the sword qi had struck, stirring up a misty spray that filled the air.
Wow!
Han Feng's eyes shone with golden light as he looked at Chu Yang with utter admiration.
Chu Yang raised his chin smugly, the corners of his mouth curling upward as he asked, "Do you believe it now?"
Han Feng hurriedly replied, "I believe it, I believe it! Teacher, teach me quickly!"
Seeing Han Feng's burning gaze, Chu Yang was momentarily speechless before tossing the sword to him.
"Brat, this exercise is meant to help you understand the synchronicity between yourself and your sword. Only when you and the sword achieve true harmony can you accomplish this."
Listening to Chu Yang, Han Feng thought for a moment and summarized his own conclusion:
"Teacher, you mean this training will help me master the balance with my sword—figuring out how much spiritual energy and physical strength are needed to maximize its power?"
Chu Yang stroked his beard, a gratifying smile spreading across his face as he thought: *It seems this kid really does have some talent for cultivation; he was able to grasp my intentions.*
Chu Yang looked up and motioned for Han Feng to give it a try.
Han Feng stripped off his clothes and leaped directly into the current. It took a great deal of effort for him to reach the vicinity of the waterfall. The descending water slammed heavily against his body, and facing the torrent from above, Han Feng found it extremely strenuous, barely managing to steady his footing after a long while.
Looking at the powerful current before him, Han Feng felt a wave of doubt in his heart.
He then mimicked Chu Yang's stance, holding the sword upright before him as he began to circulate his energy.
Only, Han Feng failed to notice that as his spiritual energy entered the blade, the patterns on the sword did not react at all.
Gathering his momentum, Han Feng let out a loud roar and swung the long sword downward with all his might.
Boom!
Water splashed everywhere instantly, and Han Feng was completely swallowed by the flying spray.
A moment later, Han Feng wiped the water from his face and looked out.
The waterfall remained completely intact against the cliff face, entirely undisturbed by Han Feng's attempt.
Han Feng sank into utter disappointment.
"It seems mastering this trick is no easy task!"
Gathering his focus once more, Han Feng swung the sword again. Predictably, he failed once more.
So what if he did? If he failed, he would just try again.
After fewer than ten swings, a dull, aching numbness began to spread through both of his arms. They trembled violently, feeling utterly exhausted, to the point where he could barely keep his grip on the sword.
Yet the moment he thought of Qiu Dong'er's arrogant expression, and of his father beaten down before his eyes while he stood utterly helpless, that sense of defeat instantly reignited Han Feng's drive.
Right now, Han Feng had only a single thought in his mind: to keep swinging the sword, and not stop until he achieved his goal.
As time passed, Han Feng's arms could be seen trembling violently, his face twisted in intense strain.
Watching this scene from the side, Chu Yang felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
*Han Feng's perseverance is formidable, and deep down he refuses to lose. It's truly rare and precious. No wonder Heavenly Dao chose him. With the Divine King Body and such a strong work ethic, he will surely inherit everything I have in the future.*
After resting for a brief moment in the water, Han Feng resumed his endless slashing, as if he had entirely forgotten the numbness and pain in his arms.