Qingyang Town had no moon tonight.
The north wind swept over the old tiled roofs, carrying a bone-chilling cold. The entire Azure Dragon Escort Agency blazed with light. Swords were drawn, and bows were strung. Every escort guard, including the cooks and stable hands, stood atop the courtyard walls with weapons in hand.
Li Qingshan stood at the main gate, a Ghost-Head Saber in his hand. The old wound in his chest was aching again. Beside him stood Li Muwan, gripping her Jadewater Short Sword tightly. Her petite face was deathly pale, but her gaze was unusually resolute.
In the courtyard, Ye Chen was still holding the Horse Stance.
Sweat soaked through the back of his shirt, but this time he wasn't training. He was trying to sense the warm current flowing from the Broken Sword.
“What are you doing? You're about to die, and you're still doing stance training?” Little Fox sat on the rooftop, munching sunflower seeds as she called down to him.
“Big Sis, I'm trying to... guide the energy.” Ye Chen gritted his teeth, his reply coming in broken gasps.
“Guide the energy?” Little Fox nearly choked on a seed. “You've only been doing stance training for three days. Your meridians aren't even open yet. What energy could you possibly guide? Get down here. When the fighting starts, I'll still have to protect you. It'll be exhausting.”
Ye Chen didn't answer. He closed his eyes.
Inside his mind, the Sword Spirit was giving him instructions.
“Brat, remember this. Force Infusion means gathering the force throughout your entire body into a single point. With the Broken Sword aiding you, and your hatred serving as the furnace, breaking through your realm will be ten times easier than it is for ordinary people—but also ten times more dangerous. If you fail, your meridians will snap, and you'll become a cripple for life.”
“I'm not afraid of becoming a cripple. I'm only afraid I won't be able to avenge my blood debt.”
“Good! That's the spirit! Then listen carefully. Take three deep breaths. Imagine your dantian is a furnace, and throw all your anger, hatred, and unwillingness into it!”
Ye Chen did as he was told.
He drew a deep breath. In his mind appeared the scene of his parents having their throats cut by a single sword. With his second breath came the image of Old Man Sun freezing to death in an abandoned temple, his hands still clutching him tightly. With his third breath came the smile on Li Qingshan's face when he said, “From now on, you're my adopted son.”
Three breaths. Three flames of fury.
Boom!
A muffled explosion rang out inside his body. The warmth from the Broken Sword seemed to have found an outlet, surging into his dantian before bursting out again and flooding his limbs and bones.
Crack! Crack!
The bones throughout his body creaked.
He had broken through his realm, advancing directly from someone who knew no martial arts into Force-Throughput!
Little Fox, who had been sitting on the rooftop, suddenly sprang to her feet. Her eyes went wide behind the fox mask.
“You... you're insane! You actually dared to break through right now!”
Ye Chen slowly opened his eyes. They shone like stars. His body felt as light as a feather, and he felt as if one punch could kill a bull.
Just then, a loud laugh rang out beyond the gate, booming like thunder and making the lanterns in the courtyard sway.
“Li Qingshan! An old friend has come to visit. Why aren't you coming out to greet me?”
The main gate of the Azure Dragon Escort Agency was blasted away by an invisible palm force, sending splinters of wood flying in every direction.
Three figures slowly stepped into the darkness.
At the front was an old man in a black robe, his hair and beard white as snow. A broad-bladed sword hung across his back, and his presence was like an insurmountable mountain. He was none other than Tie Wufeng, Sect Master of the Iron Sword Sect, a Half-Step Grandmaster expert.
Beside him stood Zhao Gang, his face smug, and a young man dressed in white brocade. The young man held a paper fan in one hand. His features were handsome, but his gaze was chillingly sinister. A small character—Ye—had been embroidered on his chest in golden thread.
“It's him!” The Sword Spirit suddenly roared inside Ye Chen's mind. “It's Ye Ling! The son of the family head of Sword Forge! He and his father were the ones who ordered the massacre of your Ye Family Manor!”
Ye Chen stared fixedly at the young man in white, both fists clenched so tightly that blood welled from his palms.
“Ye Ling!”