A Man in the Snow: Starting with a Sword Challenge to the Northern Liang Prince's Palace

Over this period of time, Ye Yun has become quite familiar with the entire town.

His seemingly unintentional movements were actually a careful observation of the special relationships here, as well as the items of destiny. He didn't scheme for any of the items of destiny; most of them were pre-arranged by the big shots.

The Five Elements Dragon Vein is of little help to Ye Yun; this time, he doesn't need to rely on the dragon energy.

What interests Ye Yun the most is Zhi Gui, the last true dragon in the world to take human form. If he could follow him and be a maid, that would be quite nice.

As for the others, they've all been decided beforehand.

If he were to actually try to steal it, he would probably be targeted by those big shots. Speaking of which, the greatest opportunity in this Lizhu Cave Heaven is that old sword stick, and what Ye Yun wants is the origin of the sword path.

Ye Yun strolled around the west side of the town, stopping and starting, watching the vendors and the passersby.

The town wasn't big, and in the days he'd been there, he'd already walked through most of the streets, except for the western part of the town, which he hadn't yet explored thoroughly.

He stopped in front of a tea stall.

The tea stall was very simple, with a few wooden tables and benches set up under the awning. The tea seller was a hunched old woman. Ye Yun ordered a bowl of tea, sat down in the corner, and slowly drank it.

The afternoon sun shone lazily, making people feel drowsy.

There were a few other customers at the tea stall, all idle men, chatting idly. Ye Yun listened to them half-heartedly, but his mind was elsewhere.

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the other end of the street.

Ye Yun looked up and saw several teenagers huddled together, pushing and shoving each other, as if they were bullying someone.

The boys were dressed smartly, clearly from wealthy families in town. The one in the middle was a handsome boy, about thirteen or fourteen years old, wearing faded old clothes, but with an arrogant look in his eyes.

"Liu Xianyang, you dare talk back?"

A chubby boy shoved the boy named Liu Xianyang, causing him to stumble and nearly fall.

Liu Xianyang steadied himself and sneered, "Lu Bai, whether I talk back or not is none of your business!"

"You..." The chubby boy was furious and stepped forward to attack.

Several teenagers nearby joined in the commotion, surrounding Liu Xianyang even more closely.

During the scuffle, Liu Xianyang was pushed to the ground, his clothes covered in mud.

Ye Yun frowned slightly and was about to get up when he suddenly saw a small, thin figure rushing over from the street corner.

It's Chen Ping'an.

The boy ran very fast, rushed into the crowd, and stood in front of Liu Xianyang. He was a head shorter than the other Lu family members and was as thin as a stick, but he stubbornly held his head high and refused to back down.

"What are you doing?" Chen Ping'an's voice trembled slightly, but was firm.

Lu Bai was taken aback for a moment, then sneered, "Chen Ping'an? You, a peasant, dare to meddle in other people's business?"

Chen Ping'an remained silent, simply standing in front of Liu Xianyang.

Lu Bai stepped forward, intending to push him away.

Chen Ping'an remained motionless, staring at him with bright, unsettling eyes.

"Alright, alright."

A boy next to Lu Bai tugged at him and said, "Why bother arguing with two peasants? It's pointless."

Lu Bai snorted and walked away grumbling.

As he left, he turned back and spat, "Liu Xianyang, you just wait!"

After the boys had walked away, Chen Ping'an breathed a sigh of relief and turned to help Liu Xianyang.

Liu Xianyang dusted himself off, stood up, and grinned: "Chen Ping'an, I'll fight for you next time."

Chen Ping'an glared at him and said, "Fine! Just don't mess with them too much."

Liu Xianyang shrugged dismissively: "Me, provoking them? They provoked me. I glanced at their daughter, what's it to them?"

Chen Ping'an remained silent and reached out to brush the dirt off his clothes.

Liu Xianyang put his arm around his shoulder and said with a grin, "Come on, let me treat you to some candied hawthorns."

"You have money?"

"No, lend it to me first, I'll return it to you later."

You still haven't paid back the three coins you borrowed from me last time.

"Hey, we're all brothers, why bother with all that..."

The two walked arm in arm toward the other end of the street, bickering as they went, like two carefree teenagers.

Ye Yun sat in the tea stall, watching their backs as a smile appeared on his lips.

Ye Yun withdrew his gaze and was about to lower his head to drink his tea when suddenly a thought struck him.

He looked up again at Liu Xianyang's departing figure.

In that instant, he sensed a faint, almost imperceptible, sword intent.

The sword intent was very faint, almost imperceptible, yet extremely pure.

It was hidden inside Liu Xianyang's body, like a dormant seed, waiting for the day it would sprout.

Ye Yun frowned slightly, carefully sensing the surroundings.

The sword intent gave him a familiar feeling. It wasn't the sword intent of reincarnation, but another kind of sword intent from ancient times, related to time.

Practicing swordsmanship in a dream.

Ye Yun suddenly remembered that Liu Xianyang's ancestors had a special sword-cultivation method.

Practicing swordsmanship in a dream...

Ye Yun seemed to be deep in thought.

How is this different from him practicing swordsmanship in the river of time? One is in a dream, and the other is in the river of time. Both are not practicing swordsmanship in reality, but they can still make rapid progress in swordsmanship.

What do they have in common?

As he was thinking, Liu Xianyang and Chen Ping'an had already walked far away and disappeared around the street corner.

Ye Yun withdrew his gaze and looked down at the teacup in front of him.

He extended his right index finger and lightly traced a line on the table.

A sword mark remained on the wooden table, straight as a sword, about half an inch deep. Within that mark lay a wisp of sword intent, not killing intent, but curiosity—curiosity about the sword practice method in the dream.

This wisp of sword intent will attach itself to Liu Xianyang, without harming or injuring him, but simply allowing him to sense the operation of that sword scripture.

After Ye Yun finished doing all this, he picked up the teacup and drank the rest of the tea in one gulp.

He stood up, tossed down a few coins, and walked out of the tea stall.

The hunched old woman stared at the sword mark on the table, paused, opened her mouth, but ultimately said nothing.

Ye Yun walked down the street, still thinking about what had just happened.

Liu Xianyang.

Chen Ping'an.

These two people will go very far in the future.

One will become a sword genius, and the other will become a hidden official of the Great Wall of Sword Qi.

Right now, he's just an observer.

Ye Yun walked to the street corner, stopped, and looked back.

In the distance, Liu Xianyang and Chen Ping'an had disappeared from sight.

Only that street remains bustling, still teeming with people.

Ye Yun withdrew his gaze and continued walking forward.

After walking for a while, he suddenly stopped and said softly:

What is the difference between practicing swordsmanship in a dream and practicing swordsmanship in the long river of time?

The wind carried away his voice.

No one answered him.

But Ye Yun knew that this question would be answered one day.

Perhaps it is only after seeing the swordsman, or perhaps after reaching a higher level in swordsmanship, that one can understand.

After all, all sword techniques in this world were passed down by this swordsman.

He continued walking, stepping into the afterglow of the setting sun.

The story is about to officially begin.