The mountain wind howled, and the pine waves surged, becoming the only background sound atop the abandoned Star-Gazing Platform.
This was the second day Ye Chen practiced the Nameless Sword Technique.
He sheathed his sword and stood still, his mind still savoring the profound mysteries of the Nameless Sword Technique he had just performed.
Though his body felt discomfort, deep within his soul, that sense of familiarity—etched as if by memories spanning eternity—made him intoxicated, blurring his perception of everything around him.
Yet, even while immersed in sword intent, his instincts as the Primordial Sword Sovereign caught a faint, almost imperceptible fluctuation of energy.
That fluctuation was extremely well-concealed.
If his spirit hadn’t been in a semi-awakened state, he wouldn’t have noticed it at all.
It wasn’t wind.
Nor cloud.
It was a person.
Moreover, that person was not far behind him.
Ye Chen slowly turned around.
About five or six zhang behind him, a slender figure stood quietly.
She wore a long red-and-white dress, an ancient long sword hanging at her waist.
There was no spiritual power emanating from her, as if she were one with the world itself.
A light veil covered her face, not ordinary silk but flowing with a faint, mist-like luster, obscuring her features in hazy light.
It was a high-grade Concealing Veil—not only blocking sight, but also impossible for spiritual sense to easily penetrate.
Ye Chen’s gaze paused on that veil for a moment.
He could almost feel the eyes behind it, focused and singular.
“Why are you here, miss?”
His voice sounded distant in the wind.
An Yao showed no embarrassment at being discovered.
Her gaze remained fixed on the Basic Sword in Ye Chen’s hand.
That sword seemed to possess an invisible pull, making it impossible for her to look away.
“Your sword technique…is interesting.”
Her voice was like jade beads falling on a plate, pleasant yet emotionless.
Ye Chen was slightly taken aback, surprised that his swordplay had attracted her attention.
He examined her again.
The red-and-white dress she wore was embroidered with exquisite Cloud Patterns, its texture extraordinary.
The style resembled the attire of core disciples from the Purple Cloud Sword Sect, yet was even more refined and reserved—unlike any he’d seen before.
Still, Ye Chen didn’t dwell on it.
He’d only been in the sect a little over a year; with so many hidden talents and unknown rules, it was natural he wouldn’t know everything.
“I am only a newcomer to this path of the sword. Please forgive any shortcomings.”
Ye Chen replied politely, a trace of unnoticed interest in his eyes.
This woman was clearly no ordinary person.
For her to see the “meaning” within his swordplay already exceeded his expectations.
At his words, An Yao’s previously calm gaze seemed to deepen.
‘Newcomer?’
That sword technique—so unexpected even to her—how could it be called “newcomer”?
It wasn’t like he was forging a new sword style, but more as if he was practicing some unknown sword art.
“I found your sword technique unique. I’d like to spar with you.”
She stated her intention directly.
“Would you be willing?”
As the words fell, the surrounding wind seemed to pause.
Ye Chen’s heart stirred.
He’d been wanting to test that familiar-yet-unfamiliar Nameless Sword Technique in his mind against a real opponent.
The woman before him, shrouded in mystery and concealed behind a veil that blocked even spiritual sense, clearly didn’t wish to reveal her identity.
Yet, despite her perfectly restrained aura, there was a hidden power beneath the surface.
This was an excellent opportunity.
“All right.”
He answered crisply.
An Yao wasted no words.
Her ancient long sword slid silently from its sheath, the blade glinting with cold light.
She didn’t attack first, but assumed the most basic opening stance, indicating Ye Chen should begin.
Ye Chen didn’t hesitate.
With a flick, his long sword touched the ground, and his entire body shot toward An Yao like an arrow leaving the bowstring.
He held nothing back, unleashing the Nameless Sword Technique he’d practiced moments before with all his strength.
The sword forms flowed through his hand, still tinged with slight awkwardness of body, yet the ancient, heavy “intent” hidden deep within the movements fully emerged at this moment.
A flicker of surprise flashed in An Yao’s eyes.
She’d thought the sword technique relied on “clumsiness overcoming skill,” but now, facing it directly, she realized it was not crude at all—it was…a return to simplicity.
Each strike was perfectly measured in power and angle, with not a shred of waste.
She quickly suppressed her cultivation to the late Foundation Establishment stage, responding with the Purple Cloud Sword Sect’s most basic, yet perfected, sword forms.
Her sword moved like flowing water, natural and flawless. Every move was both elegant and precise.
The sound of metal echoed on the Star-Gazing Platform, scattering the howling mountain winds.
Sword light wove between them.
An Yao’s sword appeared effortless, yet contained overwhelming force. Every clash made Ye Chen’s hand tingle.
He realized—the Nameless Sword Technique was born for battle.
Those seemingly awkward “patches” within the style could, in real combat, perfectly dissolve an opponent’s force or turn defense into offense from impossible angles.
The spiritual energy within him circulated with unprecedented efficiency, supporting every movement.
Ye Chen immersed himself, treating the spar not as a contest of victory or defeat, but as an opportunity to refine and synchronize his body and soul through swordplay.
Unbeknownst to him, under the Concealing Veil, An Yao’s mind was in turmoil.
The cultivation she’d suppressed was already the limit for her realm, and the sword techniques she used were the Purple Cloud Sword Sect’s most basic—and most complete—legacy.
Yet even so, she couldn’t quickly overpower this seemingly “clumsy” youth!
His sword carried a concept she’d never encountered.
Those slow movements always found the tiniest gaps in her flawless attacks, then, with impossible precision, unraveled her sword path.
This was no longer “interesting.”
This was a Foundation Establishment stage disciple who, using an unusual sword technique, could fight her—equal in cultivation—nearly to a draw!
Granted, this was less than one ten-thousandth of her true sword power.
She hadn’t even employed her core sword intent—just pure “technique.”
Even so, for a peer to reach such heights in technique alone, there were none like him across the entire Northern Continent.
Beneath her veil, a light An Yao herself didn’t recognize flashed in her glass-like eyes.
Bang—!
At last, with a gentle clash, their sword tips touched, and both stepped back, returning to their original positions.
Ye Chen felt the surge of energy within, his understanding of the Nameless Sword Technique now deeper and clearer.
He looked at An Yao with sincere gratitude.
“Thank you for your guidance, miss. I have gained greatly.”
An Yao didn’t reply to his courtesy, only quietly sheathed her sword.
She stared at Ye Chen’s face, her eyes penetrating the veil as if to etch his features into her mind.
“What’s your name?”
She spoke plainly, voice calm.
“Ye Chen.”
“You’re…special.”
An Yao nodded, her tone still tranquil.
Yet in her gaze shimmered a subtle emotion even she didn’t notice.
“On this day each month, would you be willing to return here and practice the sword with me?”
Ye Chen’s eyes flickered.
A sparring partner who offered true improvement, a mysterious woman who cared not for background or identity but focused solely on the sword.
It suited him perfectly.
“All right.”
He agreed again, a faint, elusive smile touching his lips.
An Yao said no more.
She simply nodded, turned, and vanished like the breeze from the edge of the Star-Gazing Platform, leaving no trace behind.
Ye Chen watched her go, thoughts deepening regarding the mysterious woman and the Nameless Sword Technique hidden within his soul.
Today’s spar had given him a more direct understanding of the technique—and a growing sense that its depth and power far exceeded his expectations.
What he didn’t know was that, as An Yao’s figure disappeared into the sea of clouds, a tiny, unprecedented flame had ignited within her glass-like eyes behind the veil.
It wasn’t passion.
Nor obsession.
It was simply…curiosity.
A pure, instinctive desire for something “interesting.”
At last, a ray of light had pierced the frozen lake of her heart.
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