Shen Qingci’s smile stiffened slightly.
She knew better than anyone what swinging a sword five thousand times at the Golden Core stage meant.
Her senior sister was strict to the point of being merciless when it came to the Dao of the sword. Back when they practiced in Yunqi Cave, if she zoned out for even half a second, her senior sister would poke her lower back with a willow branch.
Now that her senior sister had received the inheritance from the Sword Tomb, just how far had her sword attainment progressed?
Shen Qingci couldn’t be sure.
“Senior Sister, I comprehended sword intent on the Soul-Severing Cliff,” Shen Qingci tried to plead her case. “Even though it’s only in the early stage, very few people can even touch the threshold of sword intent at the Golden Core stage.”
Chi Yuan’s brows twitched slightly, clearly surprised.
In five years, going from Qi Refining to Golden Core and even comprehending sword intent—this talent in the Dao of the sword was hardly inferior to their master’s.
She suppressed the gratification on her face, her expression remaining calm. “It is precisely because you have sword intent that you cannot slack off.”
“Sword intent is the easiest to dissipate; if you don’t practice for ten days, it fades by a fraction. If you don’t practice today, it will be gone tomorrow.”
Shen Qingci was temporarily left speechless.
Her senior sister was coaxing her like a child!
“Since you have sword intent, A-Ci, this is perfect. During our spar, I will suppress my cultivation to the early Golden Core stage. You can use Jinglei to your heart’s content. I can take it.”
Shen Qingci’s eyes lit up slightly.
Did this mean she was allowed to go all out?
She had yet to fully execute her “Startling Thunder” technique before her senior sister.
Wasting no time, she summoned Jinglei and flew up to the sword-practice platform.
Chi Yuan snapped off a bamboo branch, a thin layer of frost condensing on its joints.
She looked up at the person in the center of the platform and said gently, “Come.”
Shen Qingci took a deep breath, sending her lightning spiritual force flooding into Jinglei’s blade.
The lightning patterns on the sword’s spine lit up. Stepping forward, she unleashed a strike of Startling Thunder.
The lightning left the blade, accelerating mid-flight as the sword momentum condensed into a brilliant line, arriving before Chi Yuan in an instant.
The bamboo branch had already moved ahead of time.
She didn’t block it; she merely gave it a light flick.
The bamboo branch slid along the side of the sword light, redirecting its momentum by thirty percent.
Shen Qingci only felt a sudden numbness in the web of her thumb and index finger, and Jinglei almost slipped from her grasp.
The deep purple line of light grazed past Chi Yuan’s temple and struck a boulder a thousand zhang behind her. The rock exploded, and charred smoke rose.
“Not bad.” Chi Yuan’s eyes brightened. “This strike has the power of the mid Golden Core stage. Again.”
Having her strike countered by her senior sister did not discourage Shen Qingci; instead, she grew excited.
The lightning vultures and lightning-patterned pythons on the cliff never dodged or blocked, only trading life for life.
Only her senior sister could deflect it so effortlessly.
An opponent who could redirect her killing move by thirty percent was a true sparring partner.
She withdrew her sword, lowered her waist, and assumed her stance for the second time.
Slightly adjusting her sword momentum, she aimed two inches lower.
Chi Yuan stepped aside to avoid the brunt of the sword light, her bamboo branch tapping the center of Shen Qingci’s back, as light as a speck of dust.
“A beat too slow. The sword light is too fast, and your body can’t keep up. You must let the sword lead your body, achieving harmony between person and sword.”
“Lower your center of gravity by another fraction. Relax your left knee,” Chi Yuan said.
Shen Qingci adjusted accordingly.
The third strike, the fourth strike, the fifth strike...
They practiced from the dead of night until the next morning.
Strike after strike of Startling Thunder was unleashed, each one steadier than the last.
By the end, her strikes could actually force Chi Yuan back half a step.
Though it was only half a step, this was “early Golden Core stage” against “early Golden Core stage,” which served as a small comfort.
By the time she sheathed her sword, Shen Qingci was drenched in sweat. She sat on the edge of the platform, panting, with a small cut on the web of her hand.
Chi Yuan walked over, took her hand, and lowered her head to apply salve to her junior sister’s wound, gently rubbing it in with her spiritual energy.
“Senior Sister, how many points would you give my Startling Thunder?”
Chi Yuan didn’t even look up. “Seven out of ten.”
Shen Qingci pouted. “That low?”
“Of the three points deducted, one is for your footwork, one is for being too slow to withdraw your stance, and the last one...”
Chi Yuan looked up at her. “You’re too reckless. No sword cultivator strikes without reserving ten percent of their spiritual energy for defense.”
“A Lightning Spiritual Root’s attack power is unmatched among peers of the same rank, but if you only focus on attacking, you’ll be in trouble if you meet someone with even more spiritual energy than you.”
“Though the chances of that are very slim.”
Shen Qingci didn’t dare talk back to her future wife.
It was a bad habit she had picked up on the Soul-Severing Cliff—as long as she was alive, she would keep fighting.
She didn’t dare say this to her senior sister, or else she would get a cold-faced lecture for days.
Chi Yuan saw through her, however. She clasped her hand, squeezing it gently, and murmured, “A-Ci, you are no longer alone on that cliff.”
“With me here, you always have a retreat.”
Shen Qingci’s nose tingled.
Oh, her senior sister’s sweet words pierced straight to her heart!
In the blink of an eye, it was the middle of the month.
On the day of the public lecture, the spell-casting arena of the Dharma Academy was packed with a sea of people.
A temporary high platform stood in the center of the arena, with projection mirrors suspended on all sides so that disciples in the distance could watch.
Almost all the disciples of Wanjian Peak of the Azure Cloud Sect had arrived, and the mountain paths outside the spell-casting arena were crowded with inner sect deacons and sect managers who had rushed over upon hearing the news.
Deacon Jiang had arranged seven or eight squads of law enforcement disciples to guard the entrance. She had been shouting from morning till night and had swallowed several Qi-Returning Pills, yet she still couldn’t stop the crowd from surging inside.
“Why won’t you let us outer sect disciples in for Senior Sister Shen’s lecture?”
“Exactly! I walked for five shichen along the mountain paths, coming all the way from the outer sect just for this!”
Jiang Rui pressed her temples and walked out with the roster. “Do not crowd! The spell-casting arena is only so big. There aren’t even enough seats for the inner sect disciples, so there’s no point in you outer sect disciples rushing in.”
“There will be projection mirrors later. The sect’s miscellaneous disciples can watch from outside the arena.”
“But we want to be closer to Senior Sister Shen!”
“Yes! I’ve never seen a live Senior Sister Shen before!”
Jiang Rui’s expression turned stern. “’A live’ one? Junior Sister Shen is naturally alive and well. Your phrasing is highly disrespectful.”
“Get outside!”
The disciple shrank back, pulled away by several peers to find a spot outside.
When Shen Qingci arrived, the noise in the spell-casting arena exploded instantly.
Today, she was dressed simply, with lightning patterns embroidered on her sleeves. Step by step, she ascended the high platform.
The area below the platform fell silent as countless divine senses swept toward her.
Standing on the stage, her own divine sense blanketed the entire venue.
The inner sect disciples in the first few rows all had jade slips and writing brushes neatly placed on their knees, sitting even more upright than when listening to the Peak Masters’ lectures.
In the back, a young female cultivator stood on her tiptoes, hands over her mouth, staring at her without blinking, her shoulders shaking with excitement.
Deacon Jiang sent a transmission from the side of the stage, “Junior Sister Shen, about eighty thousand people have come today. There are over four thousand six hundred inner sect disciples alone.”
“Originally, it was only open to the inner sect, but tens of thousands of outer sect disciples signed a joint petition, and the Sect Master agreed.”
Shen Qingci nodded solemnly.
She retrieved a notebook from her sleeve and channeled spiritual energy into the projection mirrors. The notebook was filled with dense annotations—all the various lightning magic secrets she had tested on the Soul-Severing Cliff over the past five years.
The disciples below who knew their stuff took one look, and gasps of awe echoed one after another.
“Is that written in the blood of Purple-Necked Lightning Vultures?”
“Senior Sister Shen’s notebook could be passed down as a family heirloom.”
“Quiet down! Listen carefully!”
Shen Qingci cleared her throat. When she spoke, however, she didn’t start with those profound overviews. Instead, she began with her very first day on the Soul-Severing Cliff.
“When I first arrived at the Soul-Severing Cliff, I only had a tattered robe on me. I ran into four Shuttle-Tailed Lizards of the mid Foundation Establishment stage on the beach, and they chased me all night.”
“Back then, I couldn’t even control the rhythm of my Thunder-Concealment Steps.”
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