Online Game: Me, with Unparalleled Comprehension

Yin Liting remained silent for a moment. The room was quiet, save for the rustling of the wind through the pines in the distance.

After a long silence, Yin Liting slowly spoke, his voice still cold and hard, but with a hint of complexity in his tone: "Alright, I can see that. You have indeed mastered these two sword techniques to perfection."

He paused, then looked sharply at Wu Changfeng: "Your talent is indeed exceptional. Since the founding of Wudang, there have been very few disciples with your level of comprehension."

Wu Changfeng cupped his hands in greeting: "Sixth Uncle, you flatter me."

"It's not an overstatement." Yin Liting shook his head, his tone serious. "Talent is a gift from heaven, but how far one can go depends entirely on personal cultivation. Since you have such talent, you must avoid arrogance and complacency, and you must practice diligently without the slightest laziness. The path of martial arts is like rowing against the current; if you don't advance, you fall behind. Do you understand?"

"Disciple understands and will certainly keep in mind Sixth Uncle's teachings," Wu Changfeng replied earnestly.

Yin Liting nodded, said no more, and turned to leave.

His dark blue Taoist robe fluttered in the morning breeze, and in a few steps, he disappeared into the corridor at the edge of the training ground.

Wu Changfeng stood there, looking in the direction Yin Liting had left, and scratched his head.

"That's it?" he couldn't help but mutter to himself. "After asking so many questions and practicing for so long, I didn't even get a reward? I could have at least given you a sword manual..."

However, despite his complaints, he understood that prestigious sects like Wudang emphasized a gradual and opportune approach to teaching martial arts.

How easy is it to get benefits?

He shook his head, deciding not to think about it anymore. He had learned another technique, the "Thirteen Swords of the Divine Gate," today, and had already gained quite a bit.

Once you master this martial art to perfection, your attributes will increase significantly, and your strength will improve considerably.

As for other martial arts... we'll see when the opportunity arises. If there aren't any to learn for the time being, then we'll go down the mountain to level up and hunt in the wild.

The game world is so vast, we can't just stay cooped up inside the gate forever.

Having made up his mind, Wu Changfeng put the wooden sword back on the weapon rack and turned to walk towards the dining hall.

The morning breeze in the mountains was crisp and cool, dispelling some of the heat from practicing swordsmanship.

On the other side, after leaving the training ground, Yin Liting headed straight for the depths of the back mountain.

He walked through the bamboo forest and past several quiet courtyards until he arrived at an old-fashioned wooden door.

This area is now a forbidden zone of Wudang, and ordinary disciples are not allowed to approach it.

Yin Liting straightened his clothes, looked respectful, and gently knocked on the door.

After the three rings, he took a step back, stood with his hands at his sides, and said loudly, "Master, Li Ting requests an audience."

A moment later, the wooden door opened silently inward.

An old Taoist priest with white hair, a youthful face, and a ruddy complexion slowly walked out.

He wore a gray Taoist robe, walked with light steps, and had a gentle and peaceful gaze.

"Liting, what is it?" Zhang Sanfeng's voice was gentle, with a calming rhythm.

Yin Liting bowed and then recounted in detail what had happened during the morning class, especially Wu Changfeng's performance.

"Today I observed a new disciple, Wu Changfeng. He has only been a student for two days, yet he has already mastered the Soft Cloud Sword Technique and the Soft Finger Sword Technique to perfection. I witnessed it with my own eyes; his sword intent is perfectly integrated, and his power circulation has reached a state of perfection. This is no exaggeration."

Yin Liting spoke with certainty, a rare seriousness appearing on his usually cold face. "What's even more remarkable is that this young man is calm and composed. Even though he has mastered the sword technique to a high level, he only says it is perfect. He is neither arrogant nor impatient. Such a temperament is truly rare among the younger generation."

He paused, then looked at Zhang Sanfeng: "Master, I observe that this young man possesses exceptional talent and a profound understanding of swordsmanship. Although our Wudang swordsmanship is extensive, only a handful can truly serve as the core of our heritage. As for the Tai Chi Sword, those within the sect who can truly grasp its essence are few and far between."

At this point, Yin Liting's tone carried a hint of request: "This disciple dares to ask Master—would it be possible to make an exception and teach this child the Tai Chi Sword?"

He explained, "Tai Chi sword may seem soft and yielding, but it actually contains the profound principles of Yin and Yang. It is very easy to learn, but to truly understand its essence requires extremely high comprehension and mental fortitude. Only by practicing the basic sword techniques to a state of perfection and comprehending the essence of the sword can one possibly glimpse the path."

"Although I have practiced Tai Chi sword for many years, I feel that I have only scratched the surface and have not truly grasped its essence," Yin Liting said frankly. "But this child is exceptionally talented, and perhaps... he can achieve something."

Zhang Sanfeng listened quietly, a gentle smile always on his face. After Yin Liting finished speaking, he stroked his long beard and slowly asked, "Is this disciple Wu Changfeng, the one Yuanqiao took in the other day? He's only been a disciple for a few days?"

"That's right." Yin Liting nodded. "He's only been a disciple for three days."

A hint of interest flickered in Zhang Sanfeng's eyes, like a stone thrown into an ancient well, creating subtle ripples.

He pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "Perfecting the mental cultivation technique in one day, mastering basic martial arts in half a day, and perfecting the sword technique in two days... Hmm, such talent is indeed rare."

The old Taoist's gaze was distant, as if piercing through time to see something. He recalled that in his youth, he had also been hailed as a martial arts prodigy, but compared to Wu Changfeng... he was probably still inferior.

"Tai Chi sword emphasizes intent over form, and mind over technique," Zhang Sanfeng said slowly. "It may seem soft and weak, and beginners often feel that it is not a profound sword technique, or even that it is useless. Those who lack perseverance and cannot endure loneliness will not be able to continue practicing it."

He looked at Yin Liting: "Since you can see that this boy is calm and composed, neither arrogant nor impatient, then give him a try. Teach him Tai Chi sword and see if he can comprehend the meaning of Tai Chi and endure the initial weakness and slowness."

"Yes!" Yin Liting was overjoyed and replied with his hands clasped.

Zhang Sanfeng nodded. "Approved."

"This disciple understands," Yin Liting replied respectfully.

"Go on." Zhang Sanfeng waved his hand, turned around, and slowly walked back into the house.

Yin Liting bowed again before turning to leave. His steps were lighter than when he arrived.

The wooden door slowly closed.

Inside the room, Zhang Sanfeng stood by the window, gazing at the misty mountain scenery outside, a thoughtful smile on his face.

"This boy has such talent, he is truly a prodigy of our time." He murmured to himself, his voice filled with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. "I... really want to see for myself."

Even when he was young, he didn't have such extraordinary comprehension.

"Let's see if this kid can grasp the true essence of Tai Chi." The old Taoist smiled, shook his head, turned around and walked back to the futon, sat down cross-legged, and re-entered a state of cultivation where he was oblivious to the world around him.

After leisurely finishing his light breakfast in the dining hall, Wu Changfeng put down his chopsticks and got up to walk outside.

The morning light was just right, and the mountain breeze was refreshing.

He planned to go to the training ground to continue practicing the "Thirteen Swords of the Divine Gate"—this sword technique had only been mastered to a minor level and was still far from perfection, so it was time to put in the hard work.

Just as I walked onto the bluestone path near the martial arts arena, a figure in a dark blue Taoist robe stood quietly by the bamboo grove ahead.

Yin Liting. This sixth martial uncle seemed to have been waiting for him specifically. As he approached, his gaze swept over him, and then he raised his hand and beckoned to him.

Wu Changfeng paused for a moment, scratched his head, and quickly walked over.

"Sixth Uncle-Master."

Yin Liting didn't say much, only three words: "Come with me."

After saying that, he turned and left, heading towards a more secluded spot in the back of the mountain.

Wu Changfeng was puzzled, but he didn't ask any more questions and followed.

The two walked one after the other through a quiet bamboo forest, around several jagged rocks, and finally arrived at a relatively open space on the back of the mountain.

Here, the grass is lush and green, a stream flows gently in the distance, and ancient trees surround the area, making it extremely quiet. Few disciples would come to disturb it.

Yin Liting stopped and turned to look at Wu Changfeng.

His face remained stern, but his eyes held a greater seriousness than during morning classes.

"Your swordsmanship talent is unparalleled in the world." Yin Liting got straight to the point. "Today, I will teach you a sword technique created by my grandmaster. Observe and learn. How much you can comprehend depends entirely on your own comprehension."

Wu Changfeng's heart stirred, and he cupped his hands and said, "Thank you for your guidance, Sixth Martial Uncle."

Yin Liting nodded slightly and said no more.

He drew the slender sword from his waist with a backhand motion; the blade gleamed with a cold, clear light in the morning sun.

The starting stance was very ordinary—in fact, one might say it was too ordinary.

With the sword tip slightly lowered and his arm relaxed, he stood loosely, without a trace of fierceness.

Then, the sword moved.

The movements were extremely slow, as slow as stirring thick honey in the air.

The sword's path was round and soft, its trajectory gentle and yielding, seemingly devoid of any force.

The transitions between each move were exceptionally natural, yet there was no sign of aggression.

It's like an elderly person practicing swordplay for health in the park in the morning—soft, slow, and gentle.

But as Wu Changfeng watched, his expression gradually changed.

Although the sword was slow and soft, its trajectory was perfectly round, as if it conformed to some kind of ultimate truth of heaven and earth.

The sword moves with the body, and the body moves with the sword. The breath and the sword's movements subtly echo each other, forming a unique rhythm.

What alarmed him even more was that with each sword strike from Yin Liting, the surrounding air seemed to swirl slightly, and fallen leaves would slide away naturally when they approached the sword, as if pushed away by an invisible, gentle force.