Wandering Swordsman |

That night, after finishing the affairs of the Murong family, Murong Qing practiced swordsmanship with his master, Liu Xiaorong, under the moon.

The moonlight, like a silver veil, spilled into the courtyard, making the two figures appear exceptionally graceful. Just as they were immersed in this tranquil and beautiful moment, Murong Liang suddenly appeared beside them. Murong Liang's steps were somewhat hurried, and his face was full of joy, as if he had just received some happy news.

"Qing'er!" Murong Liang called out impatiently, "There's news about Shen Mo!"

Upon hearing the name, Murong Qing's body trembled slightly, and the sword in her hand almost slipped from her grasp. Her eyes instantly brightened, as if a flame had ignited in the darkness. "Grandpa, is it true? Where is he?" Her voice was filled with excitement and anticipation.

Liu Xiaorong watched this scene quietly, sighing inwardly: Five years have passed, and Murong Qing still hasn't forgotten Shen Mo. This affection is so profound, it's both touching and heartbreaking. For the past five years, every time she saw Murong Qing's dejected expression as she searched everywhere for news of Shen Mo only to return empty-handed, Liu Xiaorong's heart felt like it was being torn apart. Hearing this news now, Liu Xiaorong was genuinely happy for Murong Qing, her eyes glistening with tears of relief.

Murong Liang nodded, a relieved smile on his face: "Yes, the Beggars' Sect sent word that he appeared in Hangzhou some time ago."

Murong Qing's eyes reddened slightly. She tried to suppress her excitement and said softly, "Grandpa, I want to go find him." Her gaze was firm, as if she could already see the future. Years of waiting and anticipation had finally come to fruition. Her hands trembled slightly, and her breathing became rapid, but her eyes revealed an undisguised joy.

However, Murong Liang's expression gradually turned serious. He gently patted his granddaughter's shoulder and said earnestly, "Qing'er, don't worry. I've already had the Beggars' Sect keep an eye on his whereabouts. Five years have passed, and while your heart hasn't changed, you don't know if his has. Why don't you wait at home for a month? If he doesn't come looking for you, then you can go and ask him for an explanation."

After hearing this, Murong Qing fell into deep thought, the scene of their parting in Yunnan involuntarily surfacing in her mind. At that time, Shen Mo had said he would come to Luoyang to find her, but time flies and the world changes. Who could guarantee that after disappearing for five years, he would still remember that promise if he reappeared now? Thinking of this, a hint of hesitation flashed in Murong Qing's eyes, but she finally nodded and agreed to her grandfather's opinion.

"Grandpa, I'll listen to you. But if he doesn't show up in a month, I'll go find him," Murong Qing said softly. Her voice was calm, but her eyes revealed a hint of reluctance.

Seeing his granddaughter's resolute yet slightly helpless expression, Murong Liang felt a pang of pain in his heart. He knew that Murong Qing's determination and persistence were unshakable by anyone.

......

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the dappled leaves onto the cobblestone path, and a gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of grass and trees.

After a quick wash, Shen Mo followed Zhang Zhenren, who had come to see him early that morning, to the Zixiao Palace. Along the way, Shen Mo felt both nervous and expectant, wondering what this meeting would mean.

Stepping into the Zixiao Palace, the scene before one's eyes was solemn and dignified. Wudang Sect Leader Zhang Taixuan and Grand Elder Zhang Daoxuan stood quietly in the center of the hall, their white hair fluttering in the wind, seemingly blending into the heavens and earth. Around them, the true disciples stood in neat rows, including Zhang Ye, who had once sparred with Shen Mo. Surprisingly, Zhang Ye was a far cry from his usual disheveled appearance; he was impeccably dressed and focused, clearly taking this instruction very seriously.

As Shen Mo entered the main hall, he felt everyone's eyes focused on him, especially the Wudang Sect Leader and the Grand Elder, whose faces were full of anticipation.

Shen Mo was naturally unaware of this situation. Master Zhang mentioned to the Wudang Sect Leader that Shen Mo could reproduce the "Tai Chi Xuan Tian Sword" after only one reading, which greatly intrigued the Sect Leader and the Grand Elder. Therefore, they specially summoned all the true disciples to observe and see if Shen Mo would gain any new insights during the process of learning the "Tai Chi Sword".

"Shen Mo," Zhang Taixuan, the leader of the Wudang Sect, spoke in a calm and powerful voice, "I've specially called you here today to teach you our Wudang Sect's signature martial art—the Tai Chi Sword. I hope this sword technique will be helpful for your future growth on your martial arts path."

Shen Mo bowed respectfully, his voice firm yet humble: "Thank you for your kindness, Sect Leader. I will certainly study diligently."

After he finished speaking, Shen Mo stood aside, intently observing the sect leader's every move.

Sect Leader Zhang Taixuan slowly drew his longsword from its sheath. The blade gleamed with a cold light, like a nimble silver serpent. As he moved lightly, the tip of the sword sliced ​​through the air, producing a soft whistling sound. Every move and stance contained profound internal energy cultivation and superb swordsmanship, drawing admiration from all present. The atmosphere in the hall seemed to freeze; everyone held their breath, afraid to miss a single detail.

Shen Mo stared intently at the sect leader's every movement, trying to grasp the essence of the swordsmanship. He discovered that although the Tai Chi Sword appeared to be the original version of the Tai Chi Xuan Tian Sword in form, it was actually far more exquisite, complex, and varied, with each move containing profound martial arts philosophy. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to memorize these complex movements one by one.

Not long after, Zhang Taixuan sheathed his sword and turned to face Shen Mo. "How was it? How much did you remember?" His voice was gentle and full of expectation, and his eyes revealed his high hopes for Shen Mo.

Shen Mo did not answer immediately, but nodded instead, a gesture that shocked everyone present.

"Is there really such a genius? He memorized it after just one look!" The disciples present couldn't help but look at Shen Mo with disbelief, and even Zhang Taixuan, the leader of Wudang Sect, was stunned for a moment.

However, Master Zhang stood aside as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, a hint of satisfaction on his face. He knew Shen Mo's extraordinary talent, so he calmly said, "Shen Mo, since you've memorized it, demonstrate it for us. Let us see if you've truly mastered this sword technique."

Upon hearing this, Shen Mo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and quickly recalled every detail he had just witnessed. Then, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze filled with determination and confidence. He began to imitate Zhang Taixuan's movements according to his memory. He gripped the Tai'a sword tightly, reproducing each move with unparalleled precision, as if he had completely mastered the essence of this "Tai Chi Sword" technique.