Morning light filtered through the mist onto the Lingxiao Sect's Dharma Hall. A faint spiritual aura permeated the air, lending the entire hall a hazy, mysterious quality. Dozens of fifth-generation disciples sat on the floor, their backs straight, their eyes fixed on the Dharma Elder as he demonstrated his swordplay from the podium. The Elder, clad in a white robe, his silver hair flowing, the blade of his sword trembling slightly, his gaze piercing, exuding an air of unspoken authority.
"Watch carefully!" The elder's voice was like a resounding bell, echoing through the hall through the spiritual energy. "This is the 'Flowing Cloud Strike' from the Lingxiao Sword Technique. Its essence isn't strength, but speed and fluidity. As long as the sword's momentum is as continuous as flowing water, the enemy will have nowhere to escape."
He gently swung his sword, and his spiritual energy danced with the sword light, drawing a graceful arc. The atmosphere of the entire Dharma Hall was instantly ignited. The elder's eyes swept across the disciples below the stage and stopped at Shen Tianshu. He smiled slightly and nodded with satisfaction: "Tianshu, come up and demonstrate it once, let your fellow disciples see what the perfect combination of talent and hard work is."
Upon hearing this, Shen Tianshu slowly stood up from the crowd. He was dressed in moon-white training clothes, and the breeze blew through his sleeves, making him look like a sword unsheathed, his edge exposed. He held the green spirit sword in his hand, walked forward with steady steps, and bowed slightly, "I will follow the elder's instructions."
The disciples in the audience immediately began to murmur, "Senior Brother Tianshu is truly amazing! It's him again!"
"I heard that he has already reached the ninth level of Qi training after only two years of training. He is absolutely amazing!"
"Don't call me a monster. This is just genius plus hard work. If it were me, I wouldn't even be able to hold the sword steady..."
A confident smile played on Shen Tianshu's lips. The blade in his hand trembled slightly, and spiritual energy flowed out from the blade, forming a faint green light. He whispered, "Flowing Cloud Strike." As soon as the words fell, his figure swept past like a gust of wind. The green sword light cut through the air, carrying the vibration of spiritual energy, leaving an elegant streamline in the hall.
As he put away his sword and stood still, a deep sword mark appeared on the ground of the Dharma Hall. The spiritual energy had not yet dissipated, but the sword force had already ended.
After a moment of silence, thunderous applause erupted from the audience. The disciples looked at Shen Tianshu with admiration, whispering to each other, "Is this the power of genius?" "As expected of you, Senior Brother! You're simply invincible!" "When will I be able to achieve this?"
The Dharma Elder stroked his beard with satisfaction, smoothed the white beard on his chin, and praised repeatedly: "Good! Good! Good! Shen Tianshu, you are indeed the future hope of the sect! In just two years, you have reached the ninth level of Qi training. This kind of talent plus your hard work is truly a blessing to the Lingxiao Sect."
Shen Tianshu bowed slightly, his expression humble: "Thank you for the praise, Elder. I dare not slack off."
The disciples below the stage nodded in agreement, their envious gazes seeming to swallow Shen Tianshu whole. They applauded while secretly sighing, "Comparison is indeed the thief of envy... I've been practicing Qi training at the fifth level for three years, and I haven't seen any sign of a breakthrough."
Xiang Fan, sitting in the back row, quietly lowered his head, hunched his shoulders, his palms clenched with sweat. He couldn't help but glance at the worn sword in his hand and muttered softly, "My Liuyun attack probably won't even hit my own feet..." After saying that, he couldn't help but grin, but it looked a little awkward.
He glanced furtively around, afraid someone might have overheard his mumbling. But when his gaze met the eyes of his junior fellow student next to him, he immediately turned away with a look of "you're hopeless," pretending not to have heard anything. Xiang Fan touched his nose and shifted his body twice, trying to appear inconspicuous.
“Senior Brother Tianshu is of course amazing… He is not in the same dimension as people like me…” He complained silently in his heart, but he couldn’t help but look up at Shen Tianshu on the stage, with a hint of envy and complexity in his eyes.
"But..." The elder suddenly changed the subject, lowering his voice. He swept his gaze around the hall, finally settling on the figure in the corner who was trying hard to minimize his presence. "Some people have been practicing for quite some time, but they're still spinning in circles."
Xiang Fan jerked his head up, his heart skipping a beat. He saw everyone's heads turn in unison, their gazes fixed on him like spotlights, illuminating his shadowy self-esteem. He hurriedly lowered his head, twisting his clothes in his hands, wishing the floor would open up so he could crawl through.
"He's practiced basic sword techniques for three years and still hasn't mastered them. His spiritual energy circulation has made no progress at all." The elder's tone was filled with regret, as if he were evaluating a failed work. "If all disciples were like him, the Lingxiao Sect would have vanished long ago."
A few low laughs erupted from the audience, and someone murmured, "Junior Brother Xiang Fan is truly a freak. After all this time, he still hasn't figured out the trick. He clings to the basic sword moves all day long. Is there something wrong with his brain?"
"That's right! Everyone else has broken through, but he's still just spinning in circles. What a waste of the sect's resources..."
Xiang Fan's face flushed crimson, his hands clutching the clothes at his knees, wishing he could tear them apart. He lowered his head, his body trembling slightly, his lips pursed tightly, but he said nothing. He knew that any more explanations would only make things worse.
"I'm just... a little stupid." He whispered to himself in his heart, his tone full of self-mockery, but a hint of stubbornness and unwillingness flashed in his eyes.
He raised his head and stole a glance at Shen Tianshu, who was not far away. The senior brother was talking quietly with the elder who was spreading the Dharma. His posture was calm and his expression was confident, which formed a sharp contrast with him.
Xiang Fan lowered his head bitterly, smiling bitterly in his heart: "Senior Brother Shen Tianshu is so talented, all the sect's resources are tilted towards him, how can I compare to him? It's better to practice basic sword moves honestly, which is better than not knowing anything at all."
He slowly loosened his grip, took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself. He lowered his head, unfolded the bamboo slips on his lap, and began to carefully record the Dharma Elder's explanation. His handwriting was neat, but with a hint of overwork, as if every stroke carried the emotion he had suppressed.
The atmosphere in the hall was still warm, with applause and discussions from the disciples. The Dharma Elder was talking to Shen Tianshu with satisfaction, and Shen Tianshu, under the gaze of everyone, was like a star in the sky, shining brightly.
But in an unassuming corner of the Dharma Hall, Xiang Fan sat quietly, like a forgotten stone. Buried in his notes, he single-mindedly reciting the key points of basic sword techniques, as if the world had nothing to do with him. His world consisted solely of the bamboo slips before him and his unwavering determination.
The bright morning light streamed through the hall, illuminating the crowd with a dazzling glow, but it deliberately bypassed him in the corner, leaving only a shadow that belonged to Xiang Fan alone. His loneliness was rendered quiet and profound, yet tinged with a silent stubbornness.
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