024. The Three Trials of the Sword Cultivator

"A sword cultivator devotes their life to the sword, unwavering and resolute." In the third courtyard of the Palace of Pure Emptiness, Liu Weiyi spoke to Lingyu, "You must remember, your sword is your most reliable companion. If you do not betray it, it will never betray you."

Lingyu caressed the Kanli Sword in her hand, remaining silent.

"In the past three years, you have practiced swordsmanship with a wooden sword and learned how to wield it. There's no need for me to teach you that again. What I must tell you now is that what you learned before was the sword of mortals. The sword of a cultivator is not trained in the same way."

As Liu Weiyi finished speaking, her right hand darted out. She drew her treasured sword, its blade glinting coldly. With a gentle wave of her arm, the sword sliced through the air—its gleam seemed to leap from the blade itself—and the straw figure at the far end of the courtyard toppled instantly.

Lingyu was startled. She had witnessed battles between Xuanchenzi, Gongsun Yan, and others, but had never seen such formidable sword light—or perhaps, she thought, it was because those others used wooden swords like the spell-casters?

"Did you see? This is sword energy." Liu Weiyi sheathed her sword again. "A sword cultivator first masters sword energy, then sword intent, and finally the heart of the sword."

"How incredible!" Lingyu exclaimed in admiration.

A faint smile touched Liu Weiyi's lips, but she replied, "The truly remarkable one is Elder Feng. My skills are nothing compared to his."

Lingyu asked, "But Master-Aunt, you are already at the ninth level of Qi Refinement. Even if there are others stronger than you, how can you say your skills are insignificant?"

At these words, Liu Weiyi sighed. "Sword energy, sword intent, the heart of the sword—these are the three trials of a sword cultivator. To this day, I have not yet grasped sword intent. What claim do I have to greatness?"

Lingyu was stunned. "Master-Aunt Liu, if even you have not comprehended sword intent, then what of others...?"

"Let me be frank. In this world, aside from a handful of old masters whose fate is uncertain, no one can comprehend sword intent anymore. In our Xuan-Yuan Temple, there is only Elder Feng," Liu Weiyi said, her tone melancholy.

"Sword intent... is it truly so unattainable? What about the heart of the sword?" Lingyu asked, bewildered. Sword energy, sword intent, the heart of the sword—three great barriers. If even sword intent eludes most, how could anyone ever reach the heart of the sword?

Liu Weiyi shook her head with a bitter smile. "The heart of the sword is but a legendary realm. Even Elder Feng knows nothing of it, nor does he know if it truly exists."

"Then why does such a concept persist? If it is spoken of, surely someone once reached that realm."

"Perhaps." The question seemed to sap Liu Weiyi's interest. To her, the comprehension of sword intent was already an insurmountable peak, let alone the higher heart of the sword. She rallied herself and said, "Enough! Whether the heart of the sword exists or not is not your concern. You haven't even taken the first step—focus on cultivating sword energy before anything else!"

"Yes, Master-Aunt Liu." Lingyu asked no further, obediently drawing her sword to begin practice as instructed.

That evening, Lingyu returned to her small courtyard. After her medicinal bath, she followed her routine—sleeping for two or three hours before rising again.

She opened the window, sitting cross-legged on her bed, gazing at the moonlight pouring in. She did not immediately begin her cultivation.

Her mind lingered on the words Liu Weiyi had spoken that day.

The three trials of a sword cultivator: sword energy, sword intent, the heart of the sword. Most sword cultivators, it seemed, never even comprehended sword intent, let alone the legendary heart of the sword. This felt wrong—far too abnormal.

If these three trials were known, surely some ancestor must have reached them. In cultivation, each stage is harder than the last. For instance, in Xuan-Yuan Temple, there were many at the sixth level of Qi Refinement, fewer at the seventh, still fewer at the eighth, and only a rare few at the ninth. Beyond the ninth, only Elder Feng, perhaps.

These cultivation stages were like steps on a ladder—the higher, the fewer, but never an abrupt drop. Yet among sword cultivators, nearly all experts hovered at the first barrier. A few, like Elder Feng, entered the second, but the third existed only in legend—as if a cleaver had severed progress at the second barrier.

Lingyu could not help recalling the handwritten notes of her ancestor, Cheng. The Upper Realm's Tai Bai Sect, the sealed Lesser Thousand World... In those days, she had not understood; now, she could grasp much of the meaning.

The world they inhabited must be the sealed Lesser Thousand World Cheng Yue spoke of, with a higher realm beyond its bounds.

This would perfectly explain why, despite no one ever breaking through the Qi Refinement stage, there existed such a term; why only a handful could comprehend sword intent, and why there was a mysterious third trial.

Because these things, all of them, had been inherited from the Upper Realm.

Lingyu began to wonder: did anyone in this world know of the Upper Realm's existence? Since Cheng Yue had entered this Lesser Thousand World, perhaps others could as well. Were there others from the Upper Realm here?

In three years, among the disciples and masters of Xuan-Yuan Temple—including Liu Weiyi—not a soul had hinted at such knowledge. In the temple's collection, she had perused many miscellaneous journals, yet found no mention. Yet traces of the Upper Realm lingered. The classical texts referenced things unknown to this world; books on geography or resources mentioned names that did not exist here.

Lingyu was certain the Upper Realm existed, but she had no means of reaching it.

After pondering for a long time, she shook her head. Never mind, as Master-Aunt Liu said, this was not an issue for now. Let her first cultivate sword energy, perhaps even comprehend sword intent, find the immortal stone, resolve the matter with Han Funing, and only then think of the Upper Realm.

She closed her eyes and settled into cultivation.

The next morning, Lingyu awoke refreshed and clear-headed. Cultivation could not wholly replace sleep, but the more advanced one’s cultivation, the lighter the burden. Those with higher cultivation needed less sleep. At first, Lingyu would feel fatigued after only sleeping for half the night; now, she felt nothing of the sort. If not for her sword practice, she could sleep only an hour a day and be none the worse for it.

She rose, washed, and dressed. Just as she was about to leave her courtyard, she heard a timid voice behind her, "Senior Sister Cheng, Senior Sister Cheng!"

Lingyu turned and saw a girl of about fourteen or fifteen rushing out from the neighboring room, shyly asking, "Senior Sister Cheng, are you heading to the dining hall? May I walk with you?"

The girl's name was Shi Jingbai, and she had only moved in a few days ago.

Lingyu had joined at a fortunate time. Xuan-Yuan Temple, preparing to accept new disciples in half a year, had renovated several courtyards, and she had one to herself. When the new disciples arrived, few were admitted directly to the Upper Courtyard, so she remained alone—until recently, when this Junior Sister Shi advanced from the Lower to the Upper Courtyard and moved in as her neighbor.

Lingyu did not mind sharing the courtyard. Whether she was sleeping or cultivating, it made no difference, nor was there any inconvenience in sharing a maidservant. Shi Jingbai, though, was timid and cautious, always treading lightly.

"Of course, let’s go together," Lingyu replied casually. Her years at Xuan-Yuan Temple had left her neither especially popular nor disliked. Though many disciples from the three main palaces were hostile, she did have a few good acquaintances.

Shi Jingbai’s eyes brightened instantly, as if she were flattered beyond measure. "Really? Senior Sister Cheng, you truly don’t mind walking with me?"

"Why should I mind?" Lingyu turned and headed for the dining hall.

Shi Jingbai hurried to catch up, her cheeks flushed. "The others say Senior Sister Cheng is eccentric and doesn’t like to speak to people..."

"The others?" Lingyu raised an eyebrow.

"Just... just the other brothers and sisters..." Shi Jingbai stammered, afraid Lingyu might press her to name names.

Lingyu couldn’t be bothered to ask further, only responding with a faint "oh." She had been so busy these three years—her sleep split between early and late hours, much less time for socializing. Others saw this and assumed she was eccentric, but she never cared to explain.

"But now I know it’s not true. Senior Sister Cheng is very kind," Shi Jingbai hastened to add, afraid she had caused offense.

Kind? Lingyu recalled that on Shi Jingbai’s first day, she had happened to greet her with a casual, "Do you need any help?" Beyond that, they had barely crossed paths.

"Senior Sister Cheng, after breakfast, where are you headed?"

"Jade Summit Palace."

"Oh, you’re going to listen to the teachings, too..."

"Yes."

"But Senior Sister, aren’t you a sword cultivator? Do you cultivate just like the rest of us?"

"Of course."

...

With Shi Jingbai’s enthusiastic company, the two arrived at the dining hall.

Because it was a teaching day, the hall was crowded, every seat taken. Lingyu led Shi Jingbai inside, ready to grab a few buns and leave, when someone called out, "Senior Sister Cheng! Senior Sister Cheng!"

She turned to see a boy of about eighteen waving to her. As he waved, he called out, "Come sit here!"

He wore the attire of an Upper Courtyard disciple, his skin tanned and his build sturdy. It was Ji Wu, whom Zhang Qingshu had introduced her to some years ago, and who had entered the Upper Courtyard earlier that year.

Lingyu walked over at an unhurried pace; a seat had already been made ready for her.

"Senior Sister Cheng, sit here!" Ji Wu offered her the seat, and seeing Shi Jingbai behind, he shuffled to make more space. "You too, Junior Sister, please sit."

Once seated, Ji Wu brought over a bowl of noodles. "Senior Sister Cheng, your favorite—chicken noodle soup. Junior Sister, what would you like?"

Shi Jingbai blushed furiously, shaking her head in embarrassment. "That’s all right, I—I’ll get something myself," she stammered, heading for the buns.

Lingyu picked up her chopsticks, eyeing Ji Wu with a smile. "All this unprompted attentiveness—what are you plotting?"

Ji Wu seemed unbothered by being called "boy" by someone younger, grinning, "Come on, Senior Sister, I’ve always been attentive to you!"

"Yes, always attentive—then you try to get some favor from me!" Lingyu retorted, eating her noodles.

"Injustice!" Ji Wu clutched his chest dramatically. "Your junior’s feelings are pure and sincere, Senior Sister, your words wound me."

After slurping her noodles rather inelegantly, Lingyu said, "Enough! Out with it. You know I’m busy."

Ji Wu hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke. "It’s nothing serious, really. I just want to earn a little money..."