Chapter Fifteen: My Heart United

After tidying up the two side rooms, Ma Qingyun took one for himself, while Xue’e shared the other with Big Clumsy Bear and Gray Rabbit.

Everyone retired for the night, and as always, Luo Changning spent the entire night sitting in meditation, cultivating.

At dawn, Luo Changning pushed open his door. After washing up, he came to the central courtyard.

Closing his eyes, he began his breathing exercises, cycling his inner energy through the twelve meridians several times. Luo Changning felt as if the vital energy of heaven and earth was slowly seeping into his limbs and bones, his organs and viscera, through his pores.

He opened his eyes in wonder. Could it be that he had been overzealous in cultivating his inner strength lately, to the point of hallucinating that external energy was entering his body? Vital energy circulated only within all things; how could it be drawn in from outside? Ah, when will I finally break through to the innate realm and draw spiritual energy into my body?

Picking up the bladeless sword beside him, Luo Changning wanted to see if he could recreate from memory the clumsy sword style his mother had once performed, and perhaps unlock its true power.

Although he had never formally studied sword, staff, or any weapon techniques, all martial arts in the world ultimately led to the same destination—there were always shared principles.

Drawing the sword from its sheath, he again felt himself slip into a void, only for the sensation to vanish as quickly as it came. He’d once asked his aunt and Qing Gu to draw the sword, but they said it felt nothing special—just an ordinary blade.

The bladeless sword still held many secrets for Luo Changning to discover, but for now, the most important thing was to practice martial arts; even if not for vengeance, he must ensure his father’s sword style reappeared in the world.

Luo Changning had no idea what his father’s sword style was called; he could only reconstruct its outward form based on childhood memories of Su Qinqin’s performances—he had the shape, but lacked the essence. In fact, no one in the world knew from whom Luo Feng had learned his sword style, what its origins were, or its name. They only called it “The Greatest Sword Under Heaven” because of its terrifying power.

Luo Feng never unsheathed his sword lightly; but once it was drawn, blood was sure to flow.

Of course, this sword technique could not be used in real combat, lest someone recognize its traces and expose his identity. In martial arts, comprehension was more important than mere form; if one could grasp the intent behind the sword, his fighting power would soar. Even the simplest thrust or sweep could kill an enemy on the spot.

Sword in hand, he raised his knee, flashed his palm, leapt with a flying kick, stepped forward dragging the blade, pressed with it… a right lunge with a rising slash, spinning with a ghost step for a sweeping cut…

After running through the sequence and resheathing the sword, Luo Changning still felt something was missing, as if some moves were off or the power was lacking. Shaking his head—given his photographic memory, he couldn’t possibly have forgotten the sequence. The only explanation was that, back then, his mother hadn’t performed the full set of techniques.

“This is your first time wielding a sword.” The tone was cool and matter-of-fact, not a question.

He turned to see Ma Qingyun, still dressed in coarse hemp clothing, sitting on a stone bench sipping hot tea. Who knew how long he’d been there?

Luo Changning smiled, “Brother Ma, your skills are impressive. If you wanted to kill me, I’d never have seen it coming.”

“Hmph, why would I need to attack you by stealth?” Ma Qingyun snorted.

“True. With my paltry skills, I can only compare myself to you, Brother Ma.” Luo Changning scratched his head. “That rough tunic is something only the poorest people wear. Yet you have an uncommon bearing and don’t lack for means. Why do you still wear it after leaving the mountain?”

Ma Qingyun lowered his gaze, drained his cup, and sneered, “Ha—what’s wrong with being a poor commoner? Earning a living by one’s own labor, it’s only a little poverty. Some are born into noble families—that’s nothing but shame and sin; even the blood in their veins is filthy! Only blood can wash away blood. These sins can be cleansed only by fresh blood!”

When all was done, all he wished for was to build a wooden hut beside his late mother’s grave and live a simple life, working at sunrise, resting at sunset, forever removed from the affairs of the world.

Luo Changning’s heart trembled. To wash blood with blood—what kind of bitter hatred was this! Could their enemies truly be blood relatives?

“You’re right. Only blood can cleanse these sins.” Changning sat down beside the stone table, picked up another white porcelain cup, and poured himself some hot tea. “Brother Ma, may I ask what weapon you wield? Would you be willing to give me some pointers on my sword technique?”

A faint blue light flashed—cold as ice. In an instant, Ma Qingyun had drawn the flexible sword from his waist and placed it on the table.

“A fine sword! What speed in drawing it!” Luo Changning praised.

“This sword was my mother’s keepsake, a token given to her by her husband for protection.” Ma Qingyun gently stroked the blade. For once, his cold face softened with a hint of tenderness. “If not for that, I might have chosen a sword myself. The sword is the king of weapons, with the power to sweep through armies—a true symbol of the warrior.”

“From what I’ve seen, your sword style should embody lightness, roundness, grace, and swiftness—agile and free, like a whirlwind. The speed of advance and retreat should rival arrows and meteors, and the movements should have the unpredictability of ghosts and spirits. When you practice, imagine a phantom opponent in your mind; achieve ‘visible moves strike the form, invisible moves strike the shadow.’ Only then, when facing a real foe, will you be able to respond to all changes with unchanging composure.”

“Thank you for your guidance, Brother Ma.”

Though enemies may change a thousand times, my heart returns to unity, steadfast and unmoved, calmly dispatching foes. Few martial artists could attain this, but there were certainly some. The martial world was vast, with always another mountain higher than the last; Luo Changning’s journey had only just begun.

Luo Changning thought that was the day’s only delight, and was about to run through his father’s sword style again when, in a blur, Ma Qingyun had already sheathed his flexible sword and returned it to his waist.

The speed was astonishing. Flexible swords were much harder to sheath than to draw, but Ma Qingyun’s motions were as quick both ways, dazzling the eye.

“Brother Ma, you really know how to put people to shame.” Luo Changning gave a wry chuckle, shaking his head in mock despair. Comparing oneself to others was always a recipe for frustration!

Ma Qingyun, uncharacteristically, smiled faintly. “Since I’ve made you feel inferior, let me make it up to you. I noticed when you wielded your sword just now, you relied entirely on external force, but your inner energy is abundant. You must not yet know how to channel it into your technique. Here—let me teach you the internal skill I learned when I was still a postnatal martial artist.”

Luo Changning’s heart soared at this, and he cupped his hands in thanks. “Brother Ma, you truly are generous. Allow me to thank you in advance.”

“No need for thanks. Didn’t you say we’re… friends?”

Ma Qingyun tightened his grip on his teacup, and a faint blush seemed to rise on his pale, jade-like face. He took a deep breath and smiled lightly. “Besides, you’re also Xue’e’s friend. She doesn’t like men who are too weak.”

At that, Luo Changning suddenly choked and coughed: What on earth did Brother Ma mean by saying Xue’e doesn’t like weak men? They’d only met yesterday, and were both still children. As her brother, wasn’t it a little inappropriate for him to say such things? He certainly had no interest in children!

Truth be told, Luo Changning had lived two lives, and even if he’d never tasted pork, he’d at least seen pigs run. But for a ten-year-old child, he truly couldn’t feel anything improper—it would be utterly beastly!

Ma Qingyun looked at Luo Changning in puzzlement, wondering to himself: What’s wrong with him? I don’t think I said anything strange, but his face is turning redder than a crab. Is he ill?

It had to be said, Luo Changning’s mind was truly in the gutter—he’d twisted a perfectly innocent remark and let his imagination run wild.

In fact, Luo Changning knew that his first meeting with Ma Xue’e wasn’t by the riverside. When he saw her pink dress yesterday, he instantly recognized her as the girl who, two years ago, had chanced upon him almost completely naked in the woods.

Of course, he would never bring this up, whether or not Ma Xue’e remembered. First, it was far too embarrassing! Second, it was far too embarrassing! And third, girls are always sensitive about such things; it was only right to spare her dignity…

Ma Qingyun, both confused and helpless, watched Luo Changning’s ever-changing expression and was forced to interrupt his reverie. “I’m just going to teach you an internal skill. There’s no reason to get so worked up.”

Luo Changning snapped out of his daydreams, feeling deeply guilty under Ma Qingyun’s gaze: Here Brother Ma was, kindly offering advice and teaching him internal technique, while he was busy having inappropriate thoughts about his friend’s sister. Truly disgraceful!

“Ahem, sorry, Brother Ma. I was momentarily distracted. Please, go ahead and teach me.”

“Very well.” Ma Qingyun nodded. “This internal skill should suit your sword technique well. It’s called the Unity Method. Since time immemorial, all under heaven returns to unity. The heavens are unchanging, unrivaled in the martial world.”

All under heaven returns to unity, unrivaled in the martial world…

These eight words stirred Luo Changning deeply. Who could have created such an audacious Unity Method? Whether it truly lived up to its name or not, its confidence and pride alone were enough to inspire awe and longing.

Following Ma Qingyun’s instructions, Luo Changning slowly circulated his inner power. His energy surged through the twelve meridians as if stimulated, until it finally found a breakthrough and a release.

One point, two points, a hundred points… a thousand points—fully a thousand points!

His inner power surged uncontrollably from every part of his body, so fiercely that he could not direct its flow. He only felt his energy rapidly diminishing, as if being drained away.

Forcing himself to focus, he had to generate more inner power while simultaneously running the Unity Method to release it.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, a trickle of blood welled from the corner of his mouth.

“Stop!” Ma Qingyun called out sharply.