49: The Path of the Sword

“How could this happen?”
Chen Longshi could hardly believe it.
Even though he had reincarnated with memories from his previous life, none of them pertained to cultivation. Neither films nor derivative games could offer the experience of true cultivation. Faced with results that defied measurement, he was plunged into a spiral of self-doubt.
Yuan Tianfeng remained unruffled, saying, “You’ll have to explore this yourself. Very few people awaken mental power at the Star Forge stage, so experience in this is rare.”
Chen Longshi was troubled, still pondering the matter. Yuan Tianfeng shook his head, snapped his fingers, and the entire room abruptly transformed. It revealed a scene like a primordial forest, a valley with a western stream, water bubbling softly. Beside the stream, an ancient-styled wooden cottage nestled.
“An illusion?”
Chen Longshi snapped to awareness, his mental energy bursting forth, trying to probe the mystery, but he found nothing amiss.
The wooden door creaked open. Yuan Tianfeng, dressed in martial attire and holding a longsword, emerged.
“Director, what is this place?”
“My mental illusion space!”
“So it truly is an illusion!” Chen Longshi felt his heart tighten. To draw him into an illusion so seamlessly, when his guard was down, and with a mental attribute as high as 160 points unable to discern the secret, the strength of the Silver Fox Director must be formidable.
Perhaps Yuan Tianfeng specialized in mental illusion arts. At the same time, it made him realize that even in the realm of mental arts, the Sword Bureau was filled with extraordinary people.
But Chen Longshi had one last card up his sleeve—the Reincarnation Purple Lotus. He actively summoned the lotus, its leaves quivering gently, causing Tun Tun, who was napping atop it, to grumble sleepily and roll over. Yet, in that brief ripple from the lotus, he caught a glimpse of reality—he was still in the office.
“Ah, you managed to break free from the illusion. Truly gifted.” Yuan Tianfeng was astonished. Even without exerting his full power, such illusions should be unfathomable for a Star Vessel rookie. Since the illusion was broken, he saw no need to continue, “Come at me with all your strength. Let me see your mastery of swordsmanship.”
Chen Longshi knew this was guidance and wasted no words, unleashing his strongest technique.
The Sword Severing Art erupted. With his current attributes, this strike was earth-shattering—swift, fierce, and with a cunning angle, aimed straight for Yuan Tianfeng’s chest.
To Chen Longshi’s amazement, Yuan Tianfeng didn’t even draw his weapon. He simply gripped the hilt and tapped the sword’s tip against the blade of the Zhi Jiang Sword, deftly redirecting its attack.
A thunderous clang echoed, shaking the room’s decorations.
Yuan Tianfeng was surprised. Regardless of the sword energy or techniques, judging purely by the force transmitted through the sword, it was at least at the Gold-level of life, perhaps even upper Gold.
This was almost cheating. Yuan Tianfeng mused silently. With just this move, Chen Longshi could contend with most Gold-level opponents. Even with his seasoned temperament, he felt compelled to curse.
Chen Longshi, meanwhile, felt the opposite. The Zhi Jiang Sword veered uncontrollably, preventing him from following up with another move. He had to reorganize his attack, pushing the sword’s speed to its limit. The Nebula Sword Technique stabbed from bizarre angles, while the Flying Bird Sword Art probed for Yuan Tianfeng’s weaknesses with unpredictable variations. If truly cornered, he resorted to the Eight Flashes Across the Sky to escape the trap.
Yet no matter how he maneuvered, Yuan Tianfeng neutralized every attack with ease.

Chen Longshi had exhausted every ounce of strength, yet the outcome remained the same each time. He felt a pang of frustration, but there was nothing he could do.
Their levels of martial prowess were simply worlds apart.
His current amalgam of sword techniques and star arts lacked a true system, and in Yuan Tianfeng’s eyes, was hardly worth mentioning.
“That’s enough, stop.”
Chen Longshi obeyed, sheathing his sword, his heart heavy with disappointment.
“Compared to the power you wield with the sword, your comprehension of swordsmanship is much lower than I expected,” Yuan Tianfeng observed after some thought. “At this stage, nearly all your abilities stem from star arts. Blindly pursuing higher-tier star arts while neglecting the fundamentals is a mistake.”
Chen Longshi listened intently. Falling behind was no disgrace, so long as he caught up. He was always self-aware; the most dangerous thing was refusing to admit one’s shortcomings.
He said solemnly, “Please guide me, Director. Should I relearn the basic sword techniques?”
Chen Longshi once again drew his sword and demonstrated the techniques he was most skilled at, displaying the extremes, shocks, spins, and sweeps of the Nine Extremes Sword Art, each move carving mysterious arcs in the air.
This, too, was a star art. Of course, he had practiced basic swordsmanship, but all his foundations now stemmed from the Nine Extremes Sword Art, upon which his entire system was built.
Yuan Tianfeng nodded at these moves. “Your foundation is taking shape. At least your planning far surpasses your peers. At your age, few would think to use a single star art as the basis to expand an entire swordsmanship system, let alone spend extra time repeatedly refining and practicing those basic moves.”
Chen Longshi frowned slightly. He didn’t want compliments now; he wanted concrete advice.
“The sword in your hand is already sentient. Have you truly sensed its spirit and communicated with it?”
Chen Longshi was taken aback. “Well… naturally I have.”
“No, you haven’t done it properly.”
Yuan Tianfeng shook his head and motioned for Chen Longshi to sit again. “In your view, what is the sword? Don’t overthink it, just say the first thing that comes to mind.”
Chen Longshi paused briefly, then answered, “A tool.”
“You instinctively see the sword as a tool, a killing instrument, so you haven’t achieved unity with it. A true swordsman’s blade is an extension of their arm. Feel your sword deeply, let it become a new limb. With your talent, this shouldn’t be difficult.”
Taking the words to heart, Chen Longshi gazed at the Zhi Jiang Sword, fingertips caressing the blade. The hilt’s gentle warmth reminded him of a maiden’s hand. The sword spirit was still the original Zhi Jiang Sword’s presence—a memory from the night the sword forge beneath the Sword Tomb collapsed, and the call of “Sword, come!” became a lifelong companion.
“Today, I become one with the sword, vowing lifelong companionship to comfort its soul.”
Recalling the past, Chen Longshi felt a hint of confusion. The reborn Zhi Jiang Sword must have overcome the black dragon spirit within the King of Chu’s Sword, perhaps merging the two spirits into one? Yet his sense of it hadn’t changed; it was still the Zhi Jiang Sword. Maybe there were things he didn’t know during its reforging, perhaps the Zhi Jiang Sword’s spirit fought a grand battle and triumphed over the King of Chu’s Sword, thus retaining its familiar aura, like the steadfast woman he remembered.
“…I become one with the sword, vowing lifelong companionship to comfort its soul.”

He understood, at last: this was his destined sword.
What is a destined sword? A blade cultivated alongside one’s life—sharing prosperity and adversity alike.
For example, if the destined flying sword is damaged, the wielder’s body is hurt as well. If the body is injured, the sword’s power falters. The destined sword is nurtured by its master, and as the master’s cultivation grows, it may awaken unique abilities.
“Have I ever truly bonded with it, from the depths of my heart?”
That question echoed in his mind.
A metallic resonance rang out, the Zhi Jiang Sword responding to its master’s thoughts.
Yuan Tianfeng looked up in surprise—a fine sword indeed, but alas, it had already recognized its master, or even he would be tempted.
Of course, a good sword must have a worthy wielder—a promising seedling.
Chen Longshi reached a crucial insight. He placed the longsword horizontally across his knees and, without hesitation, closed his eyes before his superior. He focused wholeheartedly, feeling and communicating with the blade across his knees.
Yuan Tianfeng let him be, allowing him to immerse himself in this experience.
Time slipped by. Gradually, Chen Longshi could clearly sense the sword resting across his knees, reconstructing the Zhi Jiang Sword in his mind—blade, body, hilt, markings.
Who knows how long passed. Suddenly, Chen Longshi opened his eyes. Without any unnecessary movement, the Zhi Jiang Sword leapt from its sheath into his palm. Instinctively, he thrust it forward.
A few meters away, the tempered glass cracked into a spiderweb pattern.
Chen Longshi was startled—not by the damage, but because he hadn’t channeled any star power, only his physical strength, yet the force was so great!
He felt as though a brand-new door was opening before him—looking back, previous sword practice was merely dancing outside the threshold. Beyond mastering basic moves, there was nothing extra; he had been stuck in rigid forms and star arts.
Taking a deep breath, Chen Longshi felt as if he could pierce anything.
“Thank you for your guidance, Director!”
This gratitude was heartfelt. Perhaps for Yuan Tianfeng it was a casual remark, but for Chen Longshi, it lit a brilliant path forward.
Yuan Tianfeng smiled, “A wise pupil is teachable. When you return, train diligently—and don’t forget to pay for the glass.”
Chen Longshi: “…”