Deal

In the following days, Zhang Ling spent his time in the Sunset Glow Cave, observing the flow of energy and reflecting upon his experiences. The fourth rank, neither too high nor too low, was a stage he had encountered repeatedly on his journey to the cave, engaging in combat with various people along the way. As Song Linjie had remarked, this group was here merely to squander wealth, but Zhang Ling took careful note of the strange and unusual techniques he witnessed. He would later seek out a tranquil place to comprehend and assimilate these insights, advancing step by step along the martial path he had chosen for himself.

Breaking through the levels below the first rank was primarily a matter of physical response and pushing the body's limits. Yet, the key to wielding sword or blade was not simply greater speed or strength, but rather a mastery of precise and deliberate movement. Thus, even those at the same level varied greatly in ability, each possessing unique strengths. Zhang Ling and his peers had the benefit of guidance from their predecessors. Many lacked not the talent for martial arts, but access to secret manuals or a mentor to point the way, and so they floundered and failed—how could one embark on a distant journey without direction?

After each session of practicing the Mirror Reflection Technique, Zhang Ling would seek out Lü Qingci for advice, and Lü Qingci never withheld his insights. Though it might seem overly attentive for a master to treat a new acquaintance with such generosity, Zhang Ling could not help but suspect he had ulterior motives.

Beyond this, Zhang Ling devoted himself to swordsmanship. Among the books given to him by that mysterious white-robed elder was a set of superior sword techniques, along with treatises on other common weapons. From these, Zhang Ling selected his martial path. Though his studies were broad and eclectic, all roads ultimately led to the same truth—a diversity of methods, but a singular destination. Still, even the greatest path was not without its hardships.

The steward of the library, as always, stood behind the counter, waiting for the privileged sons of noble families to borrow and register books. Each day, some would spend the entire day reading here. Despite the great reputation of the Sunset Glow Cave, few achieved real success, and the steward, deep down, held these idle youths in contempt. In contrast, the few scholars who were led in impressed him with their erudition; perhaps one day they might become high officials, though he saw no personal gain in it. He respected those who rose by true merit, believing, as the saying goes, that heroes are not judged by their origins. He fancied himself a discerning judge of talent.

Unfortunately, fate played tricks—driven by the need for food and clothing, he was forced to endure this tedious job, watching tedious people. He was so bored he no longer bothered to register books himself; the borrowers did it for him. Still, these noble youths were not entirely worthless, and over time, they ceased to quarrel with his lofty yet uninspired manner.

He dragged a chair behind the counter to nap, opening his eyes occasionally to glance around. On one such occasion, he saw a disciple approaching with a stack of books. Only after the books were set down did he recognize Zhang Ling.

Though Zhang Ling had only been at Sunset Glow Cave a few days, everyone knew how much Master Lü favored him. His recent performance in the weapons arena had further proven him to be a hero worthy of comparison. Yet Zhang Ling paid him little heed.

The steward sprang up from his chair, greeting him warmly, “Zhang Ling, why are you borrowing so many books today? Did you finish yesterday’s already? Let me remind you—don’t bite off more than you can chew. I only say this because I see your potential.”

Zhang Ling smiled at the steward, who always waxed eloquent upon seeing him. He was no fair maiden—why did the man always put on such a show? He suspected the steward’s mind was not quite right.

He laid out the books one by one and said with a soft laugh, “Just register them.”

The steward sighed in frustration. No matter how much he said, Zhang Ling never seemed to care. Still, he chalked it up to Zhang Ling’s pride, thinking the young man simply failed to recognize his own wisdom. Time would tell; one day, true heroes would drink together. As he recorded the loans, he said solemnly, “Zhang Ling, why do you have secret manuals on every weapon—sword, spear, halberd, and more? Didn’t I just warn you not to be greedy? Take these back and choose again.”

Zhang Ling merely smiled and replied, “Just continue registering them.”

Some people are too proud, holding the world in disdain and believing only true heroes are worthy of their company, yet failing to see their own position. In the end, what difference is there between them and those they scorn?

When the registration was done, Zhang Ling carried his books to the weapons arena. The area was lined with various weapons, modeled after a military training ground. Though it had stood for many years, few actually sparred here, but it was regularly cleaned and free from weeds. Zhang Ling set his books aside, sat on the second step, and began skimming through one of them. Although he was not far from reaching the third rank, he needed a breakthrough in swordsmanship first. That was the reason for studying other weapons—to gain insights and use other disciplines to refine his own. His own manuals contained advanced techniques with other weapons, but they were difficult and time-consuming to master alone. To save time, he borrowed simpler texts.

He turned a page, then three, steadily moving the books from left to right, each one finished as soon as he set it down.

After reading, Zhang Ling climbed the steps, selected a long spear from the rack, recalled what he had just read, and began practicing according to the instructions. The greatest force of a spear was within six or seven feet, with room to maneuver beyond three feet. As he swung the spear, he built up momentum. The killing power varied greatly depending on the length and weight of the weapon.

As Zhang Ling practiced, a crowd gathered. Some watched intently, hoping to glean a move or two, while others, eager to test themselves, jumped onto the platform—only to be quickly defeated by Zhang Ling, even though he was new to the spear.

He put down the spear and picked up a staff, then soon switched to another weapon.

The onlookers watched purely for entertainment. With their untrained eyes, the idle youths could not discern any real skill, nor was there much to see; otherwise, it would just be showing off. By evening, Zhang Ling returned the books and prepared to go back to the Yu Residence. Not far from the library, he saw Tang Yong walking towards him. This man had been pestering him for sparring matches for days, and only recently did Zhang Ling learn Tang was also fourth rank. But Tang lost every time, and with each bout, he lasted fewer moves. Eventually, Zhang Ling found the duels unproductive and made Tang pay him ten taels of silver per loss. Since then, Tang had not challenged him again—likely due to empty pockets.

As Tang approached, Zhang Ling asked, “Is something the matter?”

Tang Yong replied, “I saw you switching weapons during practice today—one after another. Are you planning to change weapons?”

Zhang Ling shot him a glance and said calmly, “So it seems there’s nothing important. Go home and get some sleep.”

Just as Zhang Ling took a step forward, Tang Yong blocked his way with a grin. “It’s my master who wants to see you.”

Zhang Ling followed Tang Yong to Lü Qingci’s Jade Void Chamber. It was Zhang Ling’s first time there. Though Lü Qingci had helped him greatly, Zhang Ling knew his place and observed the rules of Sunset Glow Cave, never going where he shouldn’t. Only now did he realize the rumors outside were true—the chamber was luminous and serene, perfect for cultivating body and spirit, truly a blessed place.

Lü Qingci, master of this sanctuary, sat on a stone bench and did not rise when the two entered, instead inviting them to sit.

Zhang Ling asked, “Master Lü, is there something you wish to discuss?”

Lü Qingci got up and left, returning with several books, which he placed before Zhang Ling. “Today I saw you practicing with other weapons. I see two possibilities: first, that you find the sword unsuitable and wish to change weapons. But I have seen no obstacles in your sword practice—in fact, you have been continually improving. Though I've not attained great heights in martial arts, I have some skill in reading people. You are close to reaching third rank, and I suspect you are using other disciplines to perfect your swordsmanship. In either case, or both, these manuals and insights will be of use to you.”

Zhang Ling flipped through a book and found it far superior to those in the library. He asked, “Is there something you wish of me in return for these?”

Lü Qingci replied earnestly, “You know Tang Yong is my disciple and will also participate in the academy trial. I hope you will lend him your aid when the time comes.”

Zhang Ling smiled. “You taught me the Mirror Reflection Technique in advance, hoping to secure my help before asking. Now you offer me these books—do you think I have no choice but to accept?”

Lü Qingci spoke plainly, “I won’t hide it from you. I taught you the Qi Cultivation Technique at someone’s request. Today, I am making a request—or rather, proposing a trade.”

Zhang Ling broke into a smile. “Very well.”