The morning mist at the mouth of the alley had yet to dissipate. Ye Fan watched the direction in which the woman in red had disappeared, the dewy peach blossoms beneath his boots crushed into pale pink stains. The clear spring within his Inner World was still quivering slightly, as if responding to that faint, elusive lingering trace of zither music—hidden within those zither notes was unmistakably the "Jiuxiao Chant" he had heard in his past life on the far northern ice plains, a secret code understood only by the bearer of the Jiuxiao Huanpei.
"Young Master Ye has quite the composure." A slightly teasing feminine voice came from behind. When Ye Fan turned around, he had already reined in all his emotions. The woman in red beneath the willow tree had somehow circled round to his side, a pipa resting in the crook of her arm, a small cyan jade beast dangling from her wrist casting a faint, gloomy glow. The outer corners of her eyes were dotted with vermilion, and when she smiled, she looked like a needle tip dipped in honey: "The blade you used to dab up the dew in the martial arts arena last night—is it going to be used to slit Zhao Batian's throat today?"
Ye Fan's fingers gently tapped against his sleeve—this was a habit formed in his past life. Whenever he needed to rapidly analyze a situation, he would use his knuckles to tap the stone walls of his Inner World. The appearance of Su Wan'er (he had confirmed this name through the zither notes just moments ago) was far too coincidental, so much so that it felt as though she had deliberately waited for him to finish dealing with Zhao Wuji. Moreover, the small cyan jade beast on her wrist bore a seven-tenths resemblance to the patterns on the Jiuxiao Huanpei resting against his chest.
"Miss Su is certainly well-informed." He lowered his gaze to glance at the silver bell at her waist. "As the top courtesan of Wanhua Tower, why would you take an interest in the private affairs of the Ye Family?"
Su Wan'er suddenly leaned closer, the pearl hairpin in her hair grazing his jawline: "Does Young Master Ye know why the Jiuxiao Huanpei is in the forbidden grounds of the Ye Family?" Her voice dropped abruptly, as if she feared the wind might overhear. "Three hundred years ago, it was originally the ultimate treasure of Hanmei Pavilion. Afterward..."
The rooster at the corner of the courtyard suddenly crowed. Su Wan'er abruptly stepped back two paces, her pipa half-concealing her face. From a distance came Xiaohu's shouting: "Young Master! The gatekeeper says there is an old grandfather with a white beard looking for you!"
Watching the sharp aura she had instantly reined in, the tension in Ye Fan's heart tightened a fraction more. Su Wan'er had not finished her sentence, but the three words "Hanmei Pavilion" were enough to make him vigilant—before his demise in his past life, he had seen a similar jade plaque at the ruins of Hanmei Pavilion. He pressed a hand against the slightly warm hectocotyl pendant in his bosom, and the clear spring within his Inner World suddenly churned up tiny ripples, as if corroborating something.
"Zhao Batian has buried seven rows of poison-tempered black iron stakes beneath the family tournament sparring ring." Su Wan'er turned as if to leave, then looked back and added, the vermilion at the corners of her eyes exceptionally striking in the morning mist: "The 'Qi-Breaking Curse' is carved onto the stakes, specifically designed to counter Jade Bone Realm experts of the Body Tempering Realm. Young Master's blade... had best not get stained with blood."
Before her voice had even faded, she had drifted out of the alley like a cloud of red, leaving only a string of silver bells shattering in the morning breeze. Ye Fan gazed at the direction of her disappearance and fished out the Jiuxiao Huanpei from his bosom—while she was speaking just now, a few pale cyan patterns had surfaced on the surface of the pendant, which were precisely the method to dissolve the "Qi-Breaking Curse."
"Young Friend Ye." A rich voice like a bell came from behind him. Ye Fan turned around to see an elderly man with white hair standing under the porch, dressed in a blue cloth Daoist robe with a half-worn wine gourd hanging from his waist. As his gaze swept over Ye Fan, it felt like a spring breeze brushing across a deep pool, stirring up layers of ripples.
"I am Zhang Sanfeng. Passing through Qinglan City, I caught the scent of the pure Qi of the 'Unity of Heaven and Man' coming from your esteemed residence." The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "This little friend's internal realm, could it be..."
Ye Fan's breathing abruptly hitched. When he attained the Dao in the Inquiry Realm in his past life, he had seen Zhang Sanfeng's personal notes on Wudang Mountain, and the demeanor of the person before him matched the description in the notes of "great ingenuity resembling clumsiness, returning to simplicity and truth" without the slightest discrepancy. What shocked him even more was that the other party had seen through his Inner World at a single glance—this indicated that Zhang Sanfeng was at least an expert of the Void Breaking Realm or higher.
"Senior, please come in." Suppressing the shock in his heart, he turned sideways to yield the path. In his past life, he had heard people say that Zhang Sanfeng had stepped into the Inquiry Realm a hundred years ago, and now he was likely only a step away from the Longevity Realm. To receive guidance from such a high-level master—let alone the family tournament—even his entire martial path would become much smoother.
The two of them entered the martial arts arena, where the blue stone slabs dampened by the morning dew still retained the traces of the duel with Zhao Wuji last night. Zhang Sanfeng stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the stone locks and wooden stakes by the side of the arena, and finally resting on the saber at Ye Fan's waist: "This saber is named 'Cold Water', forged from the cold iron of the far northern ice plains. The midnight dew that the little friend dabbed onto it last night happens to implicitly match the principle of 'using softness to overcome hardness'."
Ye Fan's pupils constricted slightly—this saber was something he had found in the forbidden grounds when he was ten years old, and in his past life, he had never mentioned its origins to anyone. Yet Zhang Sanfeng not only spoke of its material, but was also intimately familiar with his movements from the previous night; he was truly unfathomable.
"Although the 'Unity of Heaven and Man' talent of the little friend is strong, it lacks a sense of 'seamless harmony'." Zhang Sanfeng suddenly raised his hand, his fingertips tracing a silver thread in the void. "The Body Tempering Realm cultivates the physical body, the Qi Condensation Realm cultivates the Qi sea, but upon reaching the Void Breaking Realm, what one must cultivate is the artistic conception of 'heaven and earth coexisting with myself'. Just watch..."
That silver thread suddenly transformed into a sky full of stars, each star carrying a faint Daoist rhyme. Ye Fan only felt the clear spring of his Inner World begin to boil, and the "Thunder Storm Art" on the fragmented manual pages automatically unfurled, echoing and shimmering in tandem with the trajectories of the stars. At this moment, his five senses were infinitely magnified: he could hear the bubbling sound of medicine being decocted in the medicine hall a hundred paces away, he could see the fluffy down of fledgling swallows in a sparrow's nest under the eaves, and he could even perceive the spiritual Qi floating in the air flowing along certain mysterious patterns.
"So that's how it is!" he suddenly let out a low shout, and the clear spring within his Inner World abruptly surged upward by three inches. When he had cultivated to the Inquiry Realm in his past life, he had also comprehended Daoist rhymes, yet it was far from as clear as this moment. Zhang Sanfeng's guidance was like a key, completely unlocking his connection with his Inner World—it turned out that when borrowing the Power of the Heavenly Dao to deduce techniques, one must not only draw spiritual Qi into the body, but also make the Inner World resonate with the external heaven and earth.
"Good!" Zhang Sanfeng clapped his hands and laughed, a wisp of wine fragrance overflowing from his wine gourd. "The little friend's comprehension is truly a once-in-a-century encounter. Try this move 'Cloud Hands' once more; you must make the wind of your Inner World synchronize with the wind of the external world..."
This trial lasted for two full hours. When the sunlight crept up the flag-pole of the martial arts arena, a thin layer of sweat had already seeped onto Ye Fan's forehead, but his eyes were startlingly bright. He could clearly feel that his Jade Bone Realm cultivation within his body was loosening—just now, under Zhang Sanfeng's guidance, he had actually fused the Ye Family's ancestral "Blazing Sun Body Tempering Art" with the "Jiuxiao Thunder Canon" from his past life, creating a brand-new set of body-tempering techniques. The clear spring within his Inner World was now suffused with a golden glow, and even the handwriting on the fragmented manual pages had become much clearer.
"Let's stop here for today." Zhang Sanfeng patted his shoulder. "During the family tournament, remember to 'control motion with stillness, and overcome hardness with softness'. Although Zhao Batian's traps are numerous, they fall short of the comprehensiveness of the little friend's Inner World."
The old man turned as if to leave, then looked back to add: "If you happen to encounter people from Hanmei Pavilion in the future, you might as well mention the phrase 'Taiji gives birth to the Two Modes'. They might just give you some useful information."
Watching Zhang Sanfeng's figure disappear beyond the vermilion-lacquered gate, Ye Fan fished out the Jiuxiao Huanpei from his bosom—the cyan patterns on the surface of the pendant were even more distinct, as if responding to the guidance just now. He walked into his own courtyard, where Xiaohu was squatting under the eaves wiping the saber. Seeing him enter, Xiaohu immediately leaped up: "Young Master, Old Liu from the medicine hall said the bone-mending grass you wanted has arrived, and also..."
"Go and sharpen the saber first." Ye Fan interrupted him, his fingertips gently brushing across the spine of the "Cold Water" saber. "Tomorrow at the family tournament, this saber is going to taste more than just Zhao Batian's blood."
He walked into the inner chamber, locked the door behind him, and sat cross-legged on the bed. The clear spring of his Inner World immediately churned into a river. Utilizing his talent of the Unity of Heaven and Man, he began to deduce the "Cloud Hands" taught to him by Zhang Sanfeng just moments before—techniques that would normally have taken a month or more to master were mastered in merely the time it takes to brew a cup of tea under the acceleration of the Power of the Heavenly Dao. What surprised him even more was that several phantom images of spiritual herbs had actually appeared within his Inner World, spontaneously condensed when he inadvertently guided the spiritual Qi of heaven and earth during his deduction.
"Such talent—even in my past life, I never possessed it." Ye Fan closed his eyes and smiled faintly. In his past life, it took him a hundred years to attain the Dao in the Inquiry Realm; in this life, with the Inner World and Zhang Sanfeng's guidance, he was afraid he could advance that by several decades.
When the twilight dyed the window paper completely, Ye Fan pushed open the window and gazed at the sunset glow on the edge of the sky. Xiaohu's shout came from outside the courtyard: "Young Master, dinner is ready! Old Liu has stewed your favorite yam and pork rib soup!" He stood by the window, feeling the restless power surging within his body. The clear spring of his Inner World could now cover half the room, and right in the middle of it, the final lines of the "Thunder Storm Art" on the fragmented manual pages were slowly emerging.
Tomorrow's family tournament was not only a trial for the Ye Family, but also the first step of his formal entry into the jianghu.
Meanwhile, in the Zhao Estate in the southeast of the city, Zhao Batian was crushing a teacup in his grip. The porcelain shards pierced into his palm, and blood beads dripped down the gaps between his fingers, blooming into dark red flowers on the grey bricks. "That little brat met with Zhang Sanfeng today?" He stared at Zhao Wuji kneeling on the floor. "Are you certain the black iron stakes in the martial arts arena are buried properly? Has the array core of the Qi-Breaking Curse been left untouched?"
"Father, I personally checked three times..."
"Useless trash!" Zhao Batian kicked over the desk with a single sweep. "That old coot Zhang Sanfeng could crush even the Demonic Cult Master of those years with a single slap. If he protects Ye Fan..." He abruptly stopped, staring at the thickening night outside the window. "Fetch the 'Myriad Mechanism Gu'. Tomorrow at the family tournament, even if Zhang Sanfeng is present, that little bastard won't be saved!"
Ye Fan stood in his small courtyard, watching the moon climb up the eastern wall. He touched the "Cold Water" saber at his waist, and the clear spring of his Inner World suddenly whipped up giant waves. Within those crests, the bloodshed of tomorrow's arena seemed already reflected—yet this time, the hand gripping the blade belonged to him.
Early the next morning, Ye Fan stood before the main gates of the Ye Family. Sunlight pierced through the vermilion lintel, casting golden dappled spots upon his shoulders. Xiaohu stood behind him holding his saber, his eyes brimming with anticipation. "Let's go." Ye Fan lifted his saber and strode toward the martial arts arena. The morning breeze stirred the hem of his robe, revealing the half-hidden Jiuxiao Huanpei at his waist. Across the surface of the pendant, cyan patterns flowed in tandem with his footsteps, like the singing of an ancient battle song.