Chapter 61 — The Plan

Zuo Yan wiped the river water from his face and staggered up the bank, one step shallow and one step deep. Who would have thought that a single move of Lishui Fentian would stir up a torrent and sweep him, weak as he was, more than a hundred li downstream in one breath. That one move had wrung dry both his strength and his spiritual power; at the time he lacked even the strength to cry for help, let alone struggle free of the flood, and could only drift like a piece of flotsam, keeping himself from sinking.

The Dangtian River was thick with reefs all along its course, and Zuo Yan suffered no end of misery, crashing into one after another until there was not a single unharmed spot on his whole body.

Several hundred li was not so far in terms of distance, but unfortunately Zuo Yan had not brought any paper cranes, and as for that gray-beaked goose—that hen—she was even less to be relied upon. And he had nothing on him but a pair of undershorts, not a copper to his name.

Slumped on a rock by the shore, Zuo Yan panted weakly, yet what filled his eyes was mostly delight.

Sword intent—Lishui sword intent! He had finally worked out the Lishui sword intent!

True, he had barely touched the threshold, and it could not be called profound, but so long as he kept training without cease, his mastery of this sword art would naturally deepen day by day.

What delighted him even more was that the water essence within the ice-crystal sword had not only failed to perish, but had actually grown a little larger, now the size of a little finger.

He hesitated no longer, struggled upright, and sat cross-legged in meditation.

Two hours later, he opened his eyes and sprang to his feet.

He summoned the ice-crystal sword and began to practice the Lishui Sword Art move by move. Before, his sword moves had been seamless and round; now they seemed to leave no trace at all, yet a faint, fire-like sword intent rippled outward, and the temperature around him rose abruptly.

A whole new world spread itself before him.

Move after move, his expression solemn, he executed them with perfect ease. He could feel that with each move, centered on the ice-crystal sword, a faint mist spread outward. If one looked closely, one would find that this faint mist was made up of countless tiny flames shaped like water.

In Zuo Yan's sea of consciousness, that tidal ice river, straight as a sword, had already changed beyond recognition. Along its centerline, the ice river had split in two. On one side were fine ice crystals, surging in layer upon layer; on the other, countless water-shaped flames burned with a faint, ghostly light.

Zuo Yan felt more and more at ease. This comprehension of the Lishui sword intent was utterly different from his comprehension of the Tide sword intent. The Tide sword intent was less a comprehension than an imitation. The Lishui sword intent, by contrast, though Pu Yi had prompted and guided him, had been worked out bit by bit by himself, and what he had gained from it was far more than last time.

The ice-crystal sword flashed up and down, coming and going without a trace, the fire-like sword intent sweeping freely.

But gradually Zuo Yan frowned again. The Lishui sword intent was like fire, and the heat it released would certainly add no small power to his sword moves, but to the ice-crystal sword it was a kind of damage.

The ice-crystal sword was of a cold, yin nature, and was in fact ideally suited to water-element sword arts; who would have thought that the Lishui Sword Art Zuo Yan had chosen stressed governing water as one would fire. Over time, he feared the grade of this flying sword would drop.

It seemed he needed a flying sword suited to himself, Zuo Yan muttered to himself. He soon tossed the matter aside; flying swords were expensive, and not something he could afford. But now that he had comprehended sword intent, surely the sect ought to grant him a flying sword, at the very least. With the sect's collection, picking out a suitable flying sword for himself should not be hard.

After this round of sword practice, Zuo Yan felt not the least bit tired; on the contrary, he felt full of vigor. Though he was all skin and bones, in half a pair of undershorts, standing there he still cut a rather imposing figure. But the most pressing problem facing him now was to hurry back to the sect. Fortunately it was not far; even on foot alone, a single day should be enough.

The Wukong Sword Sect was a hive of activity. In the Wukong Hall, people came and went as everyone prepared for the sect's examination, to be held in a few days.

In the inner hall of the Wukong Hall, Shi Dai faced Xin Yan with a face full of anger: "You just stood there and watched him get swept away by the water?"

Not a trace of his usual cold severity remained on Xin Yan's face; he said placatingly, "The situation caught me off guard as well. I never thought he would be swept away. By the time I reacted, he was already gone."

"He is a spirit-planter. If anything happens to him... hmph!" Shi Dai's anger did not abate; she gave a cold snort.

"Don't worry too much, Junior Sister." Xin Yan smiled appeasingly to comfort her. "He has now comprehended sword intent. In this Dongfu region, what could possibly go wrong?"

At these words Shi Dai's anger eased somewhat. She turned her face away. "So he really did comprehend sword intent? Three months—his talent is not bad, then. Which sword art did he choose? The Kongjian Sword Art, or the Wuxing Sword Art?"

Seeing Shi Dai's expression soften, Xin Yan breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "He had just entered the inner sect—how could he possibly choose the Kongjian Sword Art or the Wuxing Sword Art? He chose the Lishui Sword Art. I didn't even see it at first glance."

Hearing this, Shi Dai's willow brows, just relaxed, shot up again. "So what if he just entered the inner sect? Was Wei Sheng in the inner sect very long? Hmph—if Wei Sheng could enter the Sword Cave, why can't he choose the Kongjian Sword Art and the Wuxing Sword Art?"

Xin Yan cursed inwardly, but said aloud, "Wei Sheng's talent is outstanding..."

Shi Dai cut him off. "And Zuo Yan's talent is not? If his talent were no good, could he have comprehended sword intent in three months with no one to guide him? You find me someone else who could do that! Luo Li still hasn't comprehended sword intent to this day!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Xin Yan's guts twisted with regret.

Suddenly the two heard someone approaching, and they both resumed their usual cold demeanor.

Pei Xu walked in, saw the two of them, and the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly—but he recovered at once and said, "What are the two of you discussing here, Second Junior Brother, Junior Sister?"

"Nothing much. Junior Sister's disciple Zuo Yan has just comprehended sword intent," Xin Yan said, his face cold and stern, with not the slightest trace of his earlier appeasing smile.

"Oh." Pei Xu was somewhat surprised. "He comprehended sword intent? I didn't expect him to have a talent for the sword. Not bad, not bad. Where is he now? This deserves a proper reward."

"He was practicing his sword in the river, and when he comprehended sword intent he was swept away by the water. I did not notice in time to save him," Xin Yan said.

"No matter. Now that Zuo Yan has comprehended sword intent, there is no need to worry about his safety in this Dongfu region." Pei Xu pondered, then said, "Hmm, still, arrange for some outer-sect disciples to search along the river. Don't let him miss the time of the sect examination."

"Very well," Xin Yan assented.

"Sect Master," Shi Dai said coldly.

"What is it, Junior Sister?" Pei Xu smiled.

"That Zuo Yan could comprehend sword intent within three months is proof enough of his talent for the sword." Shi Dai stared at Pei Xu. "That being so, the sect ought to bestow upon him a higher-grade sword art."

Pei Xu pondered. "There is no hurry in this matter. We will discuss it after some time."