Nianzu charged towards Xing, his blade shimmering in the sun's light like a beacon. Xing stepped back, raising his left hand and suffusing it with Qi.

He blocked a sword slash aimed at his neck, then flicked the blade away, forcing Nianzu into a spin. The young warrior countered with three quick kicks, only to hit air.

A devilish smile flashed across Xing's face as he appeared behind Nianzu, tripping him in the process.

Nianzu twisted his waist into a spin mid-flight, then tapped the ground, pushing himself back up.

A loud boom echoed throughout the courtyard. Xing landed on Nianzu's back, forcing him down onto the platform.

But Nianzu was not one to be taken down so easily. He hit the acupoint in Xing's leg, forcing Xing to jump up. As Nianzu kicked himself off the ground, he watched Xing float backwards, his robes fluttering to the sound of wind, his tasseled hair whipping about in the breeze.

As Zhao Xing sailed backwards, his feet barely touched the ground. His eyes fixed on Nianzu, a hint of approval glimmering in their depths.

Nianzu flowed into the second stance of the Dance of the Willow Tree: Weeping Willow. His body seemed to soften, his movements becoming fluid and graceful like the drooping branches of its namesake.

"Cascading Tear!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

In one smooth motion, he raised his sword high, then brought it down in a powerful, arcing slash. The blade whistled through the air, tracing a path from his shoulder towards Zhao Xing's waist. The attack was meant to cut through any defense, its trajectory unpredictable and swift.

Zhao Xing's eyes widened slightly, impressed by the execution. He twisted his body at the last second, the blade passing mere inches from his robes.

But Nianzu wasn't finished. Without pausing, he transitioned into the next move of the stance: "Drooping Limb!"

The young disciple dropped low, his sword sweeping in a wide arc aimed at Zhao Xing's legs. The move was designed to unbalance and destabilize, mirroring the low-hanging branches of a willow tree.

Zhao Xing, however, was not so easily caught off guard. With a slight smile, he leaped over the sweeping blade, his movements as light as a feather. As he landed, he nodded appreciatively at Nianzu.

"Well executed, Nianzu," Zhao Xing said, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "Your form is improving. The Weeping Willow stance requires both grace and power - you're beginning to find that balance."

Nianzu straightened, breathing heavily but with a look of determination in his eyes. The watching students gasped and murmured, awed by the display of skill from both master and disciple.

If Heng Guo were here to train Nianzu, he would be of the Mind Awakening Realm, just like his martial brothers.

Sadly, Heng Guo was nowhere to be found. Something that not only frustrated Xing but also Ying.

Whenever Heng Guo disappeared, Master Chaoxiang would tell the three to leave him be. Xing never understood, but he couldn't deny that Heng Guo was different, and he was also Xing's martial brother, which made him family.

Despite Nianzu's tenacity, Xing continued to evade his attacks with ease, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Nianzu's vigor almost instilled Xing to counterattack, but he knew Nianzu was not yet ready.

He raised his hand, turned it, and slapped Nianzu in the chest with the back of his hand. He then spun back, kicking him in the ankle, forcing Nianzu to fumble to the ground. He raised his sword in defense, but Xing was not finished yet.

A smile flashed across his face. He raised his left hand this time, then swirled a smidgen of Qi into his index finger. As his fingertip wisped white with Qi, Nianzu gnashed his teeth in anticipation, sending his own Qi to his knees to cushion the impact of the blow.

Nianzu flew ten meters into the air. Xing turned and watched the eyes of his younger disciples.

Oh, the familiarity, he mused bitterly.

The first time he'd seen Bo Ying and Heng Guo launched into the air, he was scared... but most of all exhilarated. He hadn't known how high his master had launched him, but it made him feel as though he was weak.

As he watched the young disciples' eyes, he could see fright, amazement, and reservation painted across their faces.

He knew displaying such strength would either scare them or make them desire to be stronger!

Nianzu crashed into the wall behind him. The moment he hit the wall, he spat out a mouthful of blood as he huddled over, sword still in hand. "I'm not done yet!" he croaked.

Dust puffed from the ground as Nianzu heaved for wind from his exhausted lungs. The ripples on his sword handle sent a soothing sensation up his left hand, despite how haggard he was.

Nianzu looked up at Xing defiantly. Xing knew he should've gone easier on Nianzu. But that would be an insult to the lad, after watching him train so hard these past years. He needed to see where he stood.

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"You've lasted five more moves than last time," Xing said, turning towards the children.

A glimmering of amazement flashed across their eyes, as all of them mouthed 'five', surprised by their senior's feat.

Xing turned to face Nianzu, impressed by his resilience. "Very well," he said, nodding his head. "Let's continue."

Nianzu got back on his feet, holding his sword firmly in his hand. He took a deep breath, gathering his Qi within his Soul Dantian, eyes focused as ever.

As Xing saw the determination in his eyes, it reminded him of his own younger self, eager to prove himself and make his mark in the martial world.

Xing took a defensive stance, waiting for Nianzu to make his move. Nianzu charged forward, swinging his sword with a fierce intensity. Xing deftly dodged his attacks, using his own momentum to strike back with calculated precision.

As they clashed, the sound of Xing's hand deflecting against Nianzu's sword rang out like a symphony, each move calculated and deliberate. Xing could feel his own heartbeat racing, and a thrill of excitement surged through him. He was reminded why he loved the art of swordplay so much.

Their dance, each move a blur of motion and speed to the children. For Nianzu, it was taxing, but for Xing, it was all but an afternoon stretch!

Xing was experienced, but most importantly of the Qi Perception Realm. Nianzu, on the other hand, had only ascended to the Core Awakening Realm. However, this spar wouldn't be determined by power, but by experience... especially when Xing was getting more excited by the second.

He stepped forward, grabbing the hilt of Nianzu's sword with his right hand. Then with a quick twist of his wrist, he disarmed Nianzu. He spun and shoulder-barged Nianzu, which forced him to shuffle backwards.

Nianzu's sword floated in the air for a half second. Xing swept the ground, stalling the sword midflight and flicked it into the air with his right toe. The blade dropped into his left hand and a rueful smile flashed across Xing's face. "You've gotten better. Well done, Nianzu," he said calmly.

"Thank you, Master Zhao. I've come this far all because of your training," Nianzu said, bowing as he knelt, catching his breath.

"Yet, you still have a long way to go. Are you going to give up?"

"No..."

"Then continue your training. Master Bo and I will try our best to help with what you need."

"This student appreciates kind Master Xing's generosity," Nianzu said, kowtowing to Zhao Xing.

"The generosity is mine, to have a student such as you. Also, you're forgiven," Xing said with a smile.

"Forgiven?" Nianzu asked, confused.

A gust of wind swept across the courtyard, filling the surroundings with an earthy smell. Xing walked towards Nianzu and squeezed his shoulder. "Your impoliteness is forgiven. You made me use my right hand."

Elation appeared on Nianzu's face, which made Xing smile. He then cheerfully tapped the lad on his cheek and walked towards the children who were still sitting in amazement from the display they had just seen.

"That could be any of you. Train hard. Never give up. If being a martial artist doesn't suit you, that is fine. But if there is one thing you won't leave here without... it's the understanding of what it means to give up in anything you do."

Xing turned from the children and headed towards the short flight of stairs. He didn't take any questions, despite knowing full well the children had many.

He climbed the stairs and made a right turn, heading down the hallway passing the armory where Nianzu had his sword stored.

Once he made his way to the other side of the Sect, he finally sat on the rock that overlooked the three villages within the Purple Mist Valley.

The trees were barely visible thanks to the thick mist that enshrouded the valley. It wasn't noticeable at the bottom of the mountain, but being this high made it hard not to see.

On the left, a few miles from Mount Domon lay a small peak called Whisker Tip. It was the other mountain within the valley.

Xing couldn't see the Iron Stone Village because of how thick the mist was on that side of the valley, but he could see the Purple Mist Village.

The village below Xing's Sect was visible, and unlike the other two villages, the fields spread around it were green, ready for plowing.

On the right side lay Hollow Village. Well, it was a village once, Xing mused.

The villagers opted for a better life at the Purple Mist and Iron Stone villages. They were probably right, Xing thought bitterly.

The Stone Bear Band really did a number on this place in the short while, but luckily he came and solved the problem with his hands, like most problems.

"Do you plan to continue watching me, or do you plan to come and say your peace?" Xing asked firmly.

"I'm wondering if it's a good time to speak after you manhandled Nianzu like that," Ying said, scoffing.

"Manhandled?" Xing snapped. "I did no such thing!"

"The boy spat a mouthful of blood. That's called manhandling."

"You're too soft, Ying'er. You need to be astute in training."

"Astute? You? I must be the Emperor then, if you're astute."

Xing ground his teeth, feeling the need to fight Ying, but it made no sense to. He didn't have the urge to fight him in his troublesome fighting style.

"What is it?" Xing finally asked.

"I'm thinking..." Ying answered calmly.

This isn't good. If Ying's hesitated, he knows it could truly rile me up...

"Have you received word of Su'er's return?"

"That's not information I'd hesitate with, Brother Xing."

"...I see."

"Why would you ask that?" Ying asked, annoyed. "You don't want Su'er to return?"

"That thought never crossed my mind."

"Then why...?"

"Because I'm scared when she returns, she will take Li'er from me," Xing said, biting off the words at the end of the sentence.

Ying bellowed a hearty laugh that made Xing snap his head right.

He knew Ying's mockery... anywhere. "Calm yourself, Brother Xing, because what I'm about to say... you will need to be calm."

"Is this about Su'er?"

"Do you have a problem with Su'er?"

"I don't!" Zhao Xing snapped. He didn't, in truth, but to lose Zhao Li would be his greatest regret after he lost...

"We n—"

"Brother Ying," Zhao Xing said calmly. "Please tell me what is on your mind. I know that I am not a scholar like you. So please, save me your paltry speak and say your peace."

Bo Ying folded his hands behind his back and sighed. Xing saw that expression and knew it immediately: he wasn't going to like this. Not. One. Bit.

"Zhao Li has left the Jiang Clan..."

Xing's heart sank. He looked at Ying in disbelief. Did he hear correctly? No. No. No. NO! he thought. "What? I don't understand."

"Before you tear this place apart, I think you should read this," Bo Ying said, taking a letter from his robes. He walked up to Xing and handed it to him. "It arrived not too long ago. It's from Lin."

As Xing sat down, he read the letter. His face twisted in anger. "This must be a lie. I can't believe this. Jiang Li said she would watch over her. But she's been HITTING MY DAUGHTER?!"

As the letter dropped to the ground, crumpled, Zhao Xing shot past Ying like an arrow. He swirled his Qi within his Core Dantian and kicked off the side of the building, floating twelve meters towards the courtyard.

He landed with a thud on the armory. The children's eyes goggled as he kicked off the armory, flying over the courtyard and into the forest down below using his Qinggong, floating from tree to tree, heading toward the Purple Mist Village, where the Jiang Clan residence was located.