From the Qin Dynasty onwards, he eked out a living among the heavens.

Chapter Fifteen: Things Are Different Now

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Han Fei had expected Xu Huang to give his opinion on the spot, but all he got was a "no rush." ​​He glanced between Xu Huang and Wei Zhuang, and then wisely stopped asking questions.

Zi Nu gestured for Nong Yu to sit down and rest. Several servants quietly entered, poured tea, and then silently withdrew. The hall fell silent again, and the sunlight filtered through the carved window frames, casting a patch of fine, golden spots on the floor tiles.

Wei Zhuang did not take a seat. He stood by the window with his hands behind his back, gazing indifferently at the street scene, exuding an aloof and distant aura.

However, Han Fei noticed that Wei Zhuang's position was directly behind and to the side of Xu Huang.

It wasn't a deliberate confrontation, but rather an unconscious sense of vigilance.

Xu Huang held the teacup, his fingertips lightly touching the cool porcelain wall, his gaze calm, without any unnecessary movements. He sat as usual, his aura unremarkable, even the rise and fall of his breath was almost imperceptible.

But Wei Zhuang's knuckles tightened slightly as he gripped the hilt of the Shark Tooth Sword.

He caught sight of something.

It wasn't murderous intent, nor hostility, nor the oppressive aura formed by the release of true energy. On the contrary, this person was completely empty, devoid of any aura whatsoever.

A month ago, in that misty backyard, he fought Xu Huang and could clearly sense the flow of his blood and qi, his breathing rhythm, and the release of his strength. At that time, Xu Huang deliberately restrained himself, but he could not be completely flawless and still retained some traces of an ordinary martial artist.

But now, I can't feel anything at all.

It's like standing on the beach looking at a deep body of water; the surface is calm and still, but you can't see the bottom.

This feeling came out of nowhere. Xu Huang didn't issue any threat, nor did he even glance at Wei Zhuang. He simply drank his tea quietly, his posture relaxed and casual, without a trace of sharpness about him.

But the Shark Tooth Sword remained silent and lifeless in its sheath.

Wei Zhuang frowned almost imperceptibly. He didn't know what Xu Huang had gone through in the past month. The doors and windows of the villa in the suburbs were tightly locked, and no one could see inside. But he knew very well that when he was sparring with Nongyu just now, he only noticed the aura outside the door the moment he gripped the spine of his sword.

If Xu Huang hadn't made a sound, he wouldn't have even noticed that someone was outside the door.

This realization weighed heavily on Wei Zhuang's mind, more so than any confrontation.

The others in the hall were unaware of Wei Zhuang's subtle change. Han Fei was discussing the follow-up matters of Quicksand with Zi Nu in a low voice, while Nong Yu sat quietly to one side, her gaze fixed on her hands on her knees, lost in thought.

Xu Huang put down his teacup and finally spoke.

His gaze fell on Nongyu, and his tone was calm, yet it startled everyone present.

"In my opinion, Miss Nongyu is not suitable to join the Quicksand."

Han Fei suddenly looked up, his face full of surprise: "Just now outside the corridor you praised her for her strong will, why do you disagree now?"

Zi Nu also glanced sideways, a hint of inquiry flashing in her eyes.

Nongyu's body stiffened slightly, and her fingers, which were hanging on her knees, slowly tightened, but she did not look up.

Xu Huang looked at Han Fei, his expression unchanged: "I said she has a strong will, and that's the truth. I also said she's not suitable for joining the Quicksand. These two things don't contradict each other."

He paused, then turned his gaze to Nongyu, his tone softening slightly: "I watched the entire competition just now. You were well aware of your own shortcomings, yet you fought without regard for your own life, each sword strike aimed at mutual destruction. Such decisiveness is rare in this world."

Nongyu raised her head and met his gaze.

"But," Xu Huang changed the subject, his tone still calm, "Mental state is one thing, strength is another. You, young lady, fought with all your might, your attacks seemed endless, but in reality, every step was under Wei Zhuang's control. His retreat wasn't because he was forced back, but because he wanted you to finish your sword path. His not attacking wasn't because he couldn't break through, but because there was no need."

Han Fei opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Wei Zhuang stood by the window, silent, but did not utter a word in rebuttal.

"The quicksand roams the night, the court, and various powerful families, walking a tightrope every day. Today, Wei Zhuang, who tested his sword with you, may hold back, but tomorrow, the assassins who will face you will show no mercy." Xu Huang's voice was unhurried, each word carrying weight. "A young lady's character is a rare virtue among ordinary people. But in the chaotic world of killing, character cannot support strength; fighting to the death is tantamount to suicide."

The hall was so quiet that the sounds of carriages and horses could be heard in the distance outside the window.

Nongyu neither bowed her head nor shed a tear. She simply looked at Xu Huang quietly, her eyes filled with no resentment, only the silence and acceptance that came after the truth had been bluntly revealed.

Han Fei sighed softly. He had always cherished talent, but he also knew that Xu Huang's words were all reasonable. Wei Zhuang setting up a threshold for testing swords was a rule; Xu Huang's words, however, went straight to the heart of the matter.

"If you don't go into the quicksand, you can still find a safe way to survive." Xu Huang withdrew his gaze, picked up his teacup, and softened his tone. "The young lady's zither carries more weight than her sword."

These words were spoken so softly, almost as if to oneself, yet a profound meaning flashed in Zi Nu's eyes.

Wei Zhuang finally turned around.

He didn't look at Nongyu, nor at Han Fei, but instead fixed his gaze directly on Xu Huang. The usual arrogance in his cold eyes faded, replaced by scrutiny—not a test, not hostility, but a re-examination of a stranger he had met before.

"You've been in seclusion for a month," Wei Zhuang said, his voice as cold as ever, "what did you do?"

It wasn't the rising intonation that a question should have; it was a flat, cold statement.

Xu Huang raised his eyes and met his gaze across the distance.

At that moment, there were no swords, no clashes, no murderous intent between the two. But Han Fei and Zi Nu simultaneously felt the air in the hall suddenly become heavier.

"Cultivation," Xu Huang replied calmly.

Two words, light and airy, nothing was said.

Wei Zhuang stared at him for a moment, then slowly looked away.

He didn't ask any more questions.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, and the distant hustle and bustle of the street below created a strange contrast with the quietness of the room.

A month ago, Wei Zhuang tested his swordsmanship in the backyard. Xu Huang used softness to neutralize force, avoiding attacks. At that time, he knew that this man was unfathomable, yet he still felt that beneath that unfathomable surface, there were still clues to be found.

A month later, the man sat in front of him drinking tea, and he felt as if a mountain was sitting in front of him.

Silent and still, it prevented even the thought of drawing one's sword from arising.

This is not fear. It is the solemnity that a swordsman instinctively feels when facing something that is not yet fully understood.

Zi Nu gently picked up the teacup in front of her and glanced at Xu Huang without making a sound. She was very perceptive and had already read something much richer than the outcome of a martial arts battle from Wei Zhuang's brief silence.

The hall fell silent again. Han Fei sensed the subtle tension, cleared his throat, and was about to say something when Xu Huang stood up first.

"That's all for today." He straightened his sleeves, his expression as usual. "There's something else I'd like to ask Miss Zi Nu for help with later."

Zi Nu slightly raised her eyes: "Young master, please speak freely."

"It's nothing serious." Xu Huang smiled and didn't say anything more.

It was still early, and the streets were bustling. The world outside Zilan Pavilion was as noisy as ever, with undercurrents still surging unseen.

Everyone in this building, in this seemingly ordinary reunion today, vaguely sensed a variable that was just beginning to surface.

Han Fei watched Xu Huang's retreating figure as he walked out of the hall, then suddenly turned to Zi Nu and whispered, "Don't you think Brother Xu is a little different today?"

Zi Nu did not answer.

She simply watched the imposing figure gradually disappear at the end of the corridor, her fingertips lightly brushing against the silver bracelet on her wrist.

It's more than just different.

He sat there drinking tea, and Wei Zhuang's fingers never loosened their grip on his sword.