“The Formless Chill Scripture!” When Shen Shan saw the name Tang Yan wrote for this cultivation method, a flicker of anticipation stirred in his chest.

Tang Yan’s calligraphy—bold and elegant, like iron strokes with a silver flourish—only deepened Shen Shan’s trust. As the saying goes, *handwriting reflects the person*. With such graceful penmanship, surely this young man wouldn’t stoop to trickery.

Once Tang Yan filled a sheet of paper, he set the brush aside with a clap and a grin. “Done.”

With a flick of his sleeve, Shen Shan sent a wave of warm energy to dry the ink instantly. He picked up the *Formless Chill Scripture* and began reading closely.

Having long surpassed the Heavenly Stage, Shen Shan’s mastery of martial arts was profound. After scanning the method from start to finish, he closed his eyes, mentally assessing its suitability for his grandson.

The evaluation brought a surge of delight. While he couldn’t guarantee it would fully resolve the issue, the general framework seemed sound.

If this method was genuine, its value might outstrip even Heavenly Stage techniques.

After all, rarity drives worth. Heavenly Stage methods, though precious, weren’t unheard of in the world. But how could he possibly repay this young man?

After racking his brain, Shen Shan realized, to his embarrassment, that he didn’t know what to offer in return.

“Young friend, is there anything you need?” Shen Shan asked eagerly.

Tang Yan hadn’t even considered a reward. He waved it off. “Meeting by chance is fate enough. No need for formalities, Senior.”

Shen Shan’s admiration grew. Most people would’ve demanded a fortune by now.

“Big Brother, you don’t carry a weapon. Don’t you have one that suits you?” the youth beside him asked, blinking curiously.

“Not yet. I’ll worry about that later,” Tang Yan replied nonchalantly.

Shen Shan’s eyes lit up at Tang Yan’s words. “What kind of weapon do you prefer, Tang Gongzi?” he pressed.

“A heavy sword would be ideal,” Tang Yan said with a smile. “But a good one’s hard to come by. No need to trouble yourself, Senior. You should find a place to test this method and see if it works.”

“A man should wield a heavy sword!” A glint of approval flashed in Shen Shan’s eyes. “They’re tricky to forge, true, but I happen to have one here. See if it suits you.”

With that, a pitch-black longsword appeared in Shen Shan’s hand.

“Give it a try!” Shen Shan handed it over with a grin.

Though Tang Yan hadn’t planned on accepting gifts, he did want a weapon that felt right. After a brief hesitation, he took the dark sword.

The moment it settled in his grip, its weight surprised him. He had to exert some effort to steady it.

Eyeing the blade with curiosity, he noted it was just over three feet long—similar to a standard longsword—but its heft suggested exceptional materials.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

He flicked the blade with a finger, feeling its vibration. “A fine sword!” Tang Yan couldn’t help but praise.

“You know your swords, young friend?” Shen Shan asked, intrigued.

“The body’s dark as ink, flawless, with even vibrations and no discordant flaws. That means the material was refined at least nine times,” Tang Yan analyzed.

“From hilt to tip, from center to edge, the lines flow seamlessly, crafted in one unbroken stroke.”

“The material’s Ten Thousand Essence Mystic Iron—notoriously hard to shape. Without a master’s skill, you’d never achieve such smooth contours.”

“If I’m not mistaken, it weighs ninety-five pounds—a nod to the imperial ‘nine-five’ significance.”

As Tang Yan broke it down, astonishment spread across Shen Shan and his grandson’s faces.

After a pause, Shen Shan chuckled. “To meet someone as remarkable as you in a place like the Eastern Domain is a rare fortune! This sword, pure black and unblemished, is called the Wuxie Sword. If you like it, young friend, it’s yours.”

“Thank you for your generosity, Old Brother,” Tang Yan accepted without fuss.

“Here’s the scabbard, forged by our Artifact Pavilion. When you’re not using the sword, you can carry it on your back—it won’t hinder your movements,” Shen Shan said, then added sheepishly, “It also comes with a technique, the Mountain-Crushing Wave-Stepping Sword. It’s only mid-tier Earth Stage, though. If you don’t mind, take that too.”

As Shen Shan offered the technique and scabbard, Tang Yan’s mind raced with imaginary stampeding alpacas.

*“Only mid-tier Earth Stage”?*

Did this guy realize how rare a mid-tier Earth Stage technique was in Tingxiang? Cloud City didn’t even have whispers of Earth Stage techniques!

“Thanks, Old Brother,” Tang Yan said solemnly, accepting the goods. Glancing at the youth with dark, bright eyes, he smiled. “By the way, I don’t know your name yet.”

“I’m Shen He—‘He’ as in the wild crane among the clouds,” the boy introduced himself, beaming. With hope for survival in sight, his spirits had lifted.

“You can start practicing the *Formless Chill Scripture* anytime. It works best when the cold flares up. You should head back and test it out. It’s getting late, so I’ll take my leave. Until we meet again, Senior Shen!” Tang Yan didn’t linger, bidding them farewell.

“Take care!” Shen Shan called after Tang Yan’s retreating figure. “The Artifact Pavilion owes you a favor, Tang Xiao Xiong. If you ever face trouble, bring that dagger and find me there!”

Tang Yan waved in acknowledgment without turning back, striding off.

Watching him go, Shen Shan slapped his thigh. “I’m getting senile—forgot to ask where Tang Gongzi lives! How will we repay him later?”

“Grandpa, he doesn’t seem local. He’s probably here for the Eastern Domain Competition. We’ll spot him at the event tomorrow,” Shen He suggested.

“Very likely. Then we’ll check out the competition ourselves. Come on, let’s test this *Formless Chill Scripture* and see if you can cultivate it.” Shen Shan took Shen He’s hand, and they hurried out of the pavilion.

By the time Tang Yan returned to his courtyard with the heavy sword slung across his back, dusk had settled. Glancing at the sky, he knew there wasn’t enough time to study the sword technique tonight.

He pulled a high-grade spirit pill from his pouch, swallowed it, and began meditating. Tomorrow was the Eastern Domain Competition—he needed to peak by morning.

At dawn the next day, Tang Yan’s eyes snapped open.

After stretching and washing up, he headed to Lin Xiao’s courtyard.

Lin Dongxue and Liu Zhi were already waiting. Lin Dongxue looked striking today, her fitted white robes lending her an air of poised elegance.

Liu Zhi arrived shortly after.

Seeing everyone assembled, Lin Xiao grinned. “Today’s the day to shine! Fight hard—good rankings come with hefty rewards!”

“We’ll give it our all!” Tang Yan, Lin Dongxue, and Liu Zhi replied in unison.

Lin Xiao nodded approvingly. After breakfast, he led the trio toward the competition grounds.

Fang City buzzed with unprecedented energy that day.

Crowds flooded in, all eager to witness the Eastern Domain Competition.

Tang Yan marveled at the throngs of people along the way. Shoulder-to-shoulder, just how many spectators were there?

In the eastern part of Fang City, a massive plaza was packed with onlookers, with more still trickling in.

This was the traditional site for the Eastern Domain Competition’s selection.

If not for reserved seats at the front for the five cities’ contestants, Tang Yan might not have found a spot to stand.

Amid the crowd, an elderly man and a youth scanned the sea of faces, searching intently.