The chief beggar said angrily, "What, you're not convinced? Don't think that just because you picked up a piece of junk, you can act tough in front of me. Believe it or not, I'll finish you off!"
"This isn't junk, it's a sword!"
The young man spoke, his tone as cold as his expression.
"A sword? Heh, can it kill people?" The chief beggar walked up to the youth, reached out, and patted his face in utter humiliation!
Clang—
The sound of a sword ringing out.
The sword in the youth's hand cleared its scabbard.
The next second, the chief beggar clutched his neck, staring at the youth in sheer disbelief as he collapsed to the ground.
Dead!
A single sword strike sealing his throat!
"A sword can naturally kill people."
The youth casually reinserted the blood-stained longsword back into its scabbard, not even glancing at the chief beggar's corpse on the ground.
His gaze swept coldly over the pack of beggars ahead.
Terrified out of their wits, the gang of beggars scattered in all directions like startled birds and beasts.
The scene flashed.
Meng Fan saw the same youth appear in the county magistrate's public hall. With a blank expression, he drew his sword, and a thin line of blood appeared across the magistrate's neck.
The scene flashed again.
Amidst an army of thousands, the youth drew his sword, sealing a throat with a single stroke to instantly kill an opposing general.
............
……
All the scenes were simply the repetitive motion of drawing a sword.
A moment later, Meng Fan, who had been keeping his eyes closed, opened them.
Through this memory, he had mastered a sword technique:
*Supreme Sword Drawing Art*.
Instantly, Meng Fan drew the White Night Sword.
A flash of sword light bloomed across the first floor of the Sword Pavilion.
Though it was his first time executing this sword-drawing technique, it was already executed with masterful perfection.
"Such a terrifying sword strike!" Meng Fan muttered to himself.
Returning the sword to its scabbard, Meng Fan remained immersed in the lingering essence of the technique he had just witnessed.
This single sword strike was entirely self-created by a youth rising from the humblest of beginnings.
It looked ordinary, yet it concealed countless profound mysteries!
This youth was undoubtedly a peerless talent of a generation.
Meng Fan recalled how the chief beggar had shouted out the youth's name in that memory.
Ni Feng!
He seemed to have vaguely heard that name before.
Frowning in thought, a particular person suddenly came to mind.
In the Great Dragon Empire, the master of the Dragon Guard Manor—the Evernight Divine Marquis!
That peerless marquis, second only to the emperor and above millions in the Great Dragon Empire, seemed to bear the exact name Ni Feng.
The Evernight Divine Marquis also used a sword!
According to legend, this marquis was a terrifying figure with a body count in the thousands, his hands soaked in blood.
The number of souls who died beneath his sword numbered in the tens of thousands.
He was a living Asura walking the mortal realm!
Could this unremarkable White Night Sword actually have been the personal weapon of the Evernight Divine Marquis?
Though it sounded like a fantasy, Meng Fan faintly felt that it was true!
"Even so, a marquis is a marquis, and the White Night Sword is just the White Night Sword. Even if the marquis used it, the White Night Sword remains an ordinary mortal sword, no stronger than any other."
"After all, it was the marquis who was strong, not the White Night Sword!"
Meng Fan muttered, placing the White Night Sword back onto the wooden rack.
If the marquis had used the White Night Sword from start to finish, then perhaps it wouldn't just possess the potential to become a [Demonic Sword].
It would have truly transformed into a terrifying demonic weapon!
What a pity that the White Night Sword was clearly abandoned by the marquis; otherwise, it would never have ended up in the Sword Pavilion.
After putting down the White Night Sword, Meng Fan stopped wiping the longswords.
Because he was exhausted!
Although [Sword Dao Divine Communion] had refined the sword malice of the White Night Sword, Meng Fan was clearly affected by it as well.
He felt overwhelmingly fatigued, as if his very vitality had been severely drained.
While the White Feather Sword he handled previously also possessed malevolent qi, its impact on Meng Fan was negligible.
This White Night Sword was undeniably far more terrifying than the White Feather Sword!
"It seems my caution earlier was justified. Even a talent like [Sword Dao Divine Communion] isn't invincible. If I touch a sword too powerful, I simply can't withstand the radiating sword malice!"
A slight smile appeared on Meng Fan's face as he sat down on a stool.
Despite being utterly exhausted and spiritually drained.
However...
It was worth it!
The *Supreme Sword Drawing Art* was immensely powerful.
If he were to participate in the chores disciple assessment again, relying on the *Supreme Sword Drawing Art*, he was confident he could leap straight from last place to first!
To others, the Sword Pavilion was a death trap.
But to Meng Fan, it was, in a sense, a blessed land.
Meng Fan sat on the stool to rest.
After a full two hours, he finally recovered some of his vigor and spirit.
A moment later, someone walked in through the heavy doors of the Sword Pavilion.
It was someone Meng Fan knew quite well.
Yang Fei!
Like Meng Fan, he was previously a chores disciple, but he had been accepted as a disciple by Steward Wang.
Yesterday, this very Yang Fei, alongside Steward Wang, had tricked Meng Fan into coming to the Sword Pavilion as a sword-guarding disciple.
At the time, Meng Fan hadn't known what those two fellows were plotting.
But after chatting with Senior Brother Luo and experiencing a day and night here, Meng Fan understood everything completely.
These two...
wanted him dead!
Chapter 6: Supreme Sword Drawing Art
Meng Fan had no idea how he could have possibly offended them.
Yet these two wanted him dead!
To be honest, this was no minor grievance or petty grudge.
Naturally, Meng Fan would not return enmity with kindness toward people who tried to murder him.
In fact, given the chance, he would be more than happy to finish off Yang Fei and Steward Wang.
With his potential, sooner or later he would find an opportunity to wipe out those two fellows.
Right now, however, he was far more curious as to why they wanted to harm him in the first place.
After all, he and they truly shared no enmity whatsoever.
"What are you here for?" Meng Fan looked at Yang Fei.
Yang Fei sneered, "What kind of attitude is that? My master hooked you up with such a sweet gig; shouldn't you be thanking us?"
"Whether it's a good gig or not, you know best in your heart! I'm just curious, we have no bad blood between us—why did you want to harm me?"
Meng Fan glanced at Yang Fei, clear anger flashing in his eyes.
Though coming to the Sword Pavilion had, in a sense, turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
Meng Fan felt zero goodwill toward Yang Fei and Steward Wang—only intense disgust!
"Why? Because you're a toad trying to eat swan meat! Do you really think a heavenly maiden like Senior Sister Li Xuerou is someone within your league?" Yang Fei looked at Meng Fan with utter mockery.
A toad trying to eat swan meat?
Li Xuerou?
Meng Fan frowned.
Even with the backing of Steward Wang, a chores disciple like Yang Fei wouldn't dare harbor designs on Li Xuerou.
"Did Qian Lechi instigate you to frame me?" Meng Fan asked with a furrowed brow.
"Do you think you're worthy of Senior Brother Qian making a personal move?" Yang Fei said, full of disdain.
At this point, Meng Fan roughly figured out the situation.
Both Li Xuerou and he were orphans from Starwood Village, relying on each other for survival with a close relationship.
Qian Lechi must have misunderstood the relationship between him and Li Xuerou, which was why he wanted him dead.
As for Li Xuerou, Meng Fan viewed her entirely as a younger sister; there was no romantic affection whatsoever.
Unfortunately, this was something he couldn't explain to Qian Lechi, and even if he did, the guy wouldn't believe it!
Ordinarily, Meng Fan wouldn't interfere with whoever Sister Xuerou chose to be with.
But now it seemed that Qian Lechi had a crooked mindset and was completely unworthy of Sister Xuerou.
Moreover, Meng Fan was someone who held grudges and repaid wrongs; he would never let go of someone who tried to kill him!
He lacked the strength to deal with Qian Lechi right now, but that would change before long.
Having figured this out, Meng Fan couldn't be bothered to waste any more breath on Yang Fei.
He said coldly to Yang Fei, "The Sword Pavilion isn't a place a mere chores disciple can enter as they please. Get lost!"
Hearing this, Yang Fei immediately wore a look of utter contempt.
"You good-for-nothing trash, getting all full of yourself now? If I were you, I'd hurry up and find myself a good feng shui spot, then dig a hole and get it ready!"
Meng Fan couldn't be bothered to trade insults and simply spat out a single word.
"Scram!"
Seeing that a piece of trash like Meng Fan dared to act so arrogant in front of him, Yang Fei instantly flew into a rage.
"You're courting death!" Yang Fei drew a broken sword and slashed at Meng Fan.
Meng Fan had actually noticed the broken sword in Yang Fei's hand long ago; the fellow must have come to the Sword Pavilion to exchange a sword.
However, as a chores disciple, Yang Fei had no qualification to take swords from the Sword Pavilion, let alone exchange them.
Therefore, he must have been running errands for someone else.
Just a lackey!
Seeing Yang Fei strike at him, Meng Fan remained unhurried, casually picking up a longsword from the nearby wooden rack.
"Clang..."
The sound of a sword ringing out.
The longsword cleared its scabbard.
A streak of sword light bloomed across the Sword Pavilion hall.
*Supreme Sword Drawing Art*!
Meng Fan was putting what he had just learned straight into practice.
The next second, the broken sword in Yang Fei's hand was knocked flying from his grip.
A thin line of blood appeared on his neck.
He clutched his neck, staring at Meng Fan in absolute terror.
In that fleeting instant, he genuinely thought he was dead!
The terror of death had never felt so vivid.
Meng Fan looked coldly at Yang Fei, speaking in a calm tone, "You should thank your lucky stars that this is the Shushan Sword Sect, and this is the Sword Pavilion. Otherwise, you'd already be a corpse!"
Hearing Meng Fan's words, Yang Fei instinctively touched his throat, only to find that just a patch of skin had been broken.
In that instant, he was drenched in cold sweat, overcome with lingering fear.
If Meng Fan had used even a fraction more force just then, his throat would have been slit and he'd be thoroughly dead.
Terrifying!
When did this Meng Fan become so terrifying?
To precisely control the tip of the sword to scratch the skin of his neck without doing any fatal damage—
That was far harder than simply killing him with one slash!
Right now, Yang Fei's mind was completely blank. Wasn't Meng Fan second to last in the chores disciple assessment... no, wait, he was the absolute last.
How did he suddenly become so horrifying?
Scrambling in a panic, Yang Fei fled the Sword Pavilion as if running for his life.
He didn't even bother to pick up the broken sword that had fallen to the ground.
Meng Fan looked at Yang Fei's retreating back with utter disdain.
Then, he wiped the longsword in his hand clean and placed it back onto the wooden rack.
Next, he picked up the broken sword that Yang Fei had dropped.
The moment his fingers touched this sword:
[Sword Name: Black Flame.]
[Weight: seven catties and eight taels, blade length: two feet and three inches.]
...
Meng Fan frowned. Not only was there no malicious sword qi rushing into him from this sword, but unlike the previous longswords, it didn't channel any special aura into his body.
"Probably because it's a broken sword and already ruined, so it doesn't work."
He placed the Black Flame sword into the recycling room, then pulled out the sword catalog register.
Soon, he found the entry for this sword in the ledger.
[June 3rd, Yang Shi, ranked forty-first among outer sect disciples, came to the Sword Pavilion to collect a sword and selected the Black Flame sword.]
There were over a thousand outer sect disciples in the Shushan Sword Sect, and only the top fifty outer disciples were qualified to come to the Sword Pavilion to claim a sword—this was the Shushan Sword Sect's reward for outstanding disciples.
Inner sect disciples could all claim swords freely.
"It seems this Yang Fei came to exchange the sword on behalf of Yang Shi."
"Yang Fei, Yang Shi—they both share the surname Yang; they must be related."
Meng Fan shook his head and brushed it aside.
However, with Yang Fei pulling this stunt, he had essentially screwed over that outer disciple Yang Shi.
If a sword weapon was damaged, one only needed to come to the Sword Pavilion and hand over three spirit stones to exchange it.
But if a sword weapon was lost, it would require ten spirit stones to claim a new one!
A difference of seven spirit stones was a painful sum for an outer disciple to part with.
Loathing the priest, one loathes the flies; Meng Fan held no affection for Yang Shi and naturally had no intention of returning the broken Black Flame sword to him.
As for whether this Yang Shi would come looking for trouble...
Heh, let him come!
Having rested sufficiently, Meng Fan resumed wiping down the longswords, quickly finishing up the remaining twenty.
The last few swords he wiped lacked sword malice, but every single sword still channeled a wisp of aura into his body—that much hadn't changed.
It wasn't until sunset that Senior Brother Luo finally strolled back leisurely.
The fellow claimed he went out to take care of some errands, yet he returned empty-handed.
Crucially, he reeked of alcohol!
Chapter 7: Cultivation, the First Wisp of True Qi
Clearly, Senior Brother Luo had gone out just to drink.
Meng Fan had previously assumed that the management of the Sword Pavilion was strict, like being thrown into solitary confinement in a prison cell without any freedom!
At least, he thought he had to stay inside the Sword Pavilion every day and couldn't leave.
As it turned out, that wasn't the case at all.
The fact that Senior Brother Luo could live so carefree proved that being a sword-guarding disciple at the Sword Pavilion wasn't all that miserable either.
Right now, Meng Fan felt that being a sword-guarding disciple here wasn't actually half bad!
"Senior Brother Luo, you're back," Meng Fan greeted him politely.
Senior Brother Luo chuckled, letting out an alcohol-laden belch.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed a wine gourd over to Meng Fan.
"Don't say your senior brother hogs all the good stuff and doesn't look out for you—this is your share!" With that, he headed straight back to his room to rest.
One had to admit, this little lifestyle of his wasn't half bad.
"Right, it's about time. Lock up!"
Back in his room, Senior Brother Luo didn't forget to shout a reminder to Meng Fan before closing his door.
Meng Fan looked at the wine gourd in his hand, a wry, helpless smile touching his lips.
Then, he bolted the heavy doors of the Sword Pavilion shut and returned to his own room.
The twenty sword weapons he was assigned to wipe for today were already done, meaning he was free to rest.
Carrying the wine gourd back to his room, Meng Fan uncorked it and took a sip.
Tasted awful!
After that single gulp, he shoved the stopper back into the gourd and placed it on the table.
In his past life, Meng Fan was never much of a drinker, and the alcohol in this world tasted far worse than anything on Earth, so he certainly had no fondness for it.
"It's time to focus on cultivation!" Meng Fan muttered, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
By now, he had mastered two sword techniques.
Moreover, boosted by the supreme talent [Sword Dao Divine Communion], he had already achieved complete mastery over both.
His practical combat ability wasn't weak either; against someone like Yang Fei, who ranked near the top among chores disciples, Meng Fan was fully capable of a one-hit kill.
Yet Meng Fan's biggest flaw remained his cultivation base!!
His cultivation level was practically zero.
To be precise, it was 0!
Only by cultivating the very first wisp of True Qi could one truly be considered to have a cultivation base.
As a bottom-feeder among chores disciples, Meng Fan naturally had not cultivated even a shred of True Qi.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Meng Fan began to practice the Qi-Guiding Technique.
The Qi-Guiding Technique was the introductory cultivation method for disciples of the Shushan Sword Sect.
Practicing the Qi-Guiding Technique allowed one to forge the first wisp of True Qi within the body.
Only after acquiring this first wisp of True Qi could one transition to practicing true immortal cultivation arts!
Therefore, at this moment, Meng Fan was so humble that he didn't even possess a proper, formal cultivation technique.
And the way to break out of this awkward predicament was to diligently use the Qi-Guiding Technique to cultivate that first wisp of True Qi!
The Qi-Guiding Technique!
Meng Fan was intimately familiar with it; his predecessor had practiced it countless times, yet had never managed to produce a single wisp of True Qi.
Inferior-grade Spiritual Roots were truly weak to the point of despair.
Yet this time, after practicing the Qi-Guiding Technique, a situation entirely different from usual occurred.
He sensed a faint warmth seemingly emerging in his lower abdomen.
It felt precisely like that special energy that had surged toward this exact spot every time he drew and wiped swords previously.
Deep within his lower abdomen...
Meng Fan frowned slightly. Although he couldn't look inside his own body, he had basic common sense.
This position should be his Dantian, right?
Though Meng Fan didn't know what that energy coursing into his body during sword-wiping was, since it was acting up now, the probability was high that it would help his cultivation.
After all, his innate talent wouldn't sabotage him; it could only help him.
As this warmth emerged in his lower abdomen, the Qi-Guiding Technique Meng Fan was practicing suddenly began to spin furiously.
This was something that had never happened before!
Previously, every time Meng Fan practiced the Qi-Guiding Technique, its circulation speed was like an infant's pedal car.
But right now, it instantly transformed into a Ferrari operating at full throttle.
A difference as vast as heaven and earth!
"This speed is insane," Meng Fan muttered, opening his eyes in sheer disbelief.
He frowned and fell deep into thought.
No matter how much he pondered, he couldn't figure out what was going on.
Still, there was no need to dwell on it too deeply—it was a good thing anyway!
Without further hesitation, Meng Fan continued operating the Qi-Guiding Technique.
The night passed without sleep.
Early the next morning, before dawn had broken.
Meng Fan, who had been meditating cross-legged on his bed, climbed down.
Despite staying up all night, he felt refreshed and spirited.
Most importantly, the first wisp of True Qi had formed within his body.
From this moment on, he was no longer a good-for-nothing without cultivation.
Pushing open his bedroom door, Meng Fan stretched lazily.
It felt amazing!
Today, he could officially say he had stepped onto the path of immortal cultivation.
No, wait, he was still missing something.
He didn't have an immortal cultivation technique yet!
The sole purpose of the *Qi-Guiding Technique* was to train and condense the human body's very first wisp of True Qi; beyond that, it had no further utility.
Meng Fan needed to find a new, formal cultivation manual!
Normally, once a chores disciple cultivated their first wisp of True Qi, they could be promoted to an outer sect disciple and be granted a cultivation manual.
However, right now Meng Fan was a sword-guarding disciple of the Sword Pavilion—neither a chores disciple nor an outer disciple.
Under these circumstances, Meng Fan had no choice but to seek help from Senior Brother Luo.
After a full six hours, when the sun was high in the sky, Senior Brother Luo finally pushed open his door with sleepy, hazy eyes.
By this time, Meng Fan had already finished wiping all twenty longswords.
Because he deliberately avoided the "strong swords," none of the twenty longswords Meng Fan wiped possessed sword malice.
"Oh? Kid, you've cultivated True Qi?"
The moment Senior Brother Luo stepped out of his room and laid eyes on Meng Fan, he said in mild surprise.
Meng Fan offered a shy smile and said, "Now that I've entered the Sword Pavilion, if I want to live a few more days, I naturally have to work twice as hard at my cultivation."
Senior Brother Luo nodded, picking a bit of sleep out of the corner of his eye.
"You've got some drive, kid. Not bad—if you want to survive in the Sword Pavilion, you have to work hard to grow stronger!"
Meng Fan had been waiting for Senior Brother Luo all morning, so he asked straight to the point, "Senior Brother Luo, as a sword-guarding disciple of the Sword Pavilion, once one cultivates True Qi, how do we obtain a cultivation manual?"
"You don't need to go collect it, I've got some right here. Wait for me!"