The stream flowed ceaselessly past the silent stone bridge. Twilight deepened, the sunset hues lingering as if reluctant to vanish.

The cowherd boy, leading an aged water buffalo, ambled by, savoring the last vestiges of dusk embracing heaven and earth. The boy led his buffalo home, the black sparrows flew back to their nests; the withered vine by the river remained, the stone bridge stood firm, the river water flowed on.

The youth in cyan robes sat serenely amidst the rushing river. The torrent surged past both his flanks, and though the water was swift, it wasn't deep.

Behind the cyan-robed youth materialized a monstrous, pale beast. It possessed a vast maw and a massive tail, resembling a dragon's head with a coiled tail.

This white beast incessantly inhaled the surrounding vapor into itself. Only upon closer inspection would one realize the white creature was nothing more than an agglomeration akin to a cloud.

Lu Yuan exhaled a long breath, releasing a plume of white mist. He had, at last, truly mastered the first transformation of the Ten Cloud Dragon Changes: the Chiwen Transformation.

Having forged the Chiwen Transformation, his magical power could temporarily mimic a raging torrent, granting him the properties of water-elemental magic during this phase. Cultivating the cloud-elemental power could thus imbue it with the characteristics of the water element; the Ten Cloud Dragon Changes cultivation method was truly profound.

He ought to continue his practice now; having achieved the first transformation of the Ten Cloud Dragon Changes would make breaking through to the next realm somewhat easier. He activated the first transformation, the Chiwen Transformation, and his magical power immediately shifted, behaving exactly like water-elemental energy, surging fiercely towards the various internal bottlenecks.

Lu Yuan discovered that once the first transformation was engaged, the rate of magical power consumption increased alarmingly. The inherent quality of the cloud-elemental core—its seemingly endless, tenacious reserve—appeared to be temporarily diminished.

Charge. His power, like a flash flood, rushed toward the first bottleneck.

... Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!

A series of muffled explosions seemed to detonate within his body, causing Lu Yuan's frame to occasionally shudder. A faint smile touched his lips.

All the internal barriers had shattered; his magical power was now fully connected and unified. Grand Cycle Circulation.

This was the Ninth Layer of Qi Refining: the Grand Cycle Circulation. He had finally reached the Grand Cycle Circulation of Qi Refining.

It had not been easy. Although the breakthrough attempt had left him drenched in sweat and significantly depleted his energy, the sensation of every drop of power flowing seamlessly throughout his entire body, every meridian connected, filled him with an indescribable exhilaration that sharpened his senses.

He stood up, raised his hand, retrieved his wine gourd, and took a deep, hearty swig. When life is at its peak, one must revel completely; do not let the golden goblet stand empty to the moon.

This was precisely the time for triumph. Why not face the crescent moon ascending in the sky and drink deeply?

The wine slid down his throat, chillingly refreshing. Exhilarating.

So comfortable. He drank with such gusto, becoming delightfully muddled, that he stumbled, falling suddenly into the river with a loud splash that sent up a spray of pale, brilliant water.

He scrambled to rise, but halfway up, he froze. The river water rushing past his sides—was it not like a myriad of swords?

Flowing Water is Sword. He recalled practicing under the waterfall for two months; was that waterfall not also like a sword?

Flowing water is a sword; the waterfall is also a sword. Perhaps he could seize this opportunity to glean some insight into Sword Intent.

He began to observe the ceaseless flow, the current surging past him. The flowing water.

Rushing endlessly, never ceasing, surging forth in a torrent... Now, his eyes were not the only things observing the stream; every inch of skin submerged in the water was also feeling its movement.

The more he felt, the more distant his thoughts became, until he gradually sank into a state of profound emptiness—a state where it seemed nothing was being thought, yet perhaps everything was being considered. His mind hovered between thinking and not thinking, between grasping and not grasping.

At this moment, Lu Yuan's hand moved without conscious direction, drawing the Nourishing My Sword. He began to imitate the elusive, illusory quality of the flowing water.

Truly, if Lu Yuan could forge an exquisite set of sword techniques based on this current, he would have truly comprehended the Sword Intent of Water. Just then, footsteps sounded from the bank.

Of course, even though there were footsteps, they did not penetrate Lu Yuan's hearing. He was immersed in this state of enlightenment; unless he were attacked, he would not awaken until his contemplation reached its natural conclusion.

At that moment, an old man with a long beard arrived on the bank. Li Fang, unable to find the Young Master, had followed the trail, hoping to trace where he had gone.

The Eastern Prefecture was not peaceful; the Young Master’s recent display of power over Sun Tiangang had drawn the attention of many factions, causing Li Fang considerable worry. He had followed discreetly.

When he reached the riverbank, he saw the Young Master standing in the water, his personal sword, the Nourishing My Sword, drawn, executing what appeared to be phantom thrusts. As Li Fang watched closer, it seemed like sword forms, yet not quite, and the Young Master appeared to be constantly refining them.

What was the meaning of this? Li Fang knew the Young Master's swordsmanship was exceptional; there was no doubt about that.

What was he doing now? Even if the Young Master's skill was superb, it shouldn't regress to this level.

Suddenly, Li Fang started, a shocking thought dawning: Could he be creating a sword technique? But that wasn't right.

To create a sword technique, one typically needed to be a grandmaster in the way of the sword. Could the Young Master, no matter how brilliant his skill, already have reached the level of a grandmaster?

Li Fang could scarcely believe it, yet what the Young Master was doing was undeniably the act of forging sword moves, and he was continuously modifying them. —————— Lu Yuan’s eyes snapped back into focus.

Failed again. He had previously attempted to grasp the Sword Intent of Rain atop North Peak and failed.

This time, after mastering the first transformation of the Ten Cloud Dragon Changes, the Chiwen Transformation, he had tried to grasp the Sword Intent of Water and failed again. What a pity.

However, this failure underscored the immense difficulty of comprehending Sword Intent—to fail even under these advantageous conditions. The fact that he grasped the Sword Intent of Wind and the Sword Intent of Cloud on his first attempts could be attributed to luck.

Over ten years of practicing that specific set of sword forms, coupled with that singular stroke of fortune, meant that grasping other intents would not be so easily achieved now. But a failure was a failure.

He poured a mouthful of wine down his throat. Sword Intent was never meant to be easily won.

If it is grasped, then grasp it. If it cannot be grasped, set it aside for now.

As the saying goes: Gaining it is my fortune; losing it is my fate. To become distraught for half a day over the inability to grasp a single Sword Intent would render one far too fragile.

Conversely, to pursue an intent with maniacal obsession, even if enlightenment is possible, increases the risk of descending into madness and suffering internal qi deviation exponentially. With a flourish, the Nourishing My Sword slid back into its sheath.

His robes were soaked; he used his spiritual power to dry them. By the time he reached the bank, they were nearly dry.

He noticed Li Fang standing there. "Oh, you're here too," he said casually, raising a hand.

"Young Master, were you just forging a sword move?" Li Fang asked, astonishment clear in his voice. "Something like that," Lu Yuan nodded.

If he had successfully created a water-elemental sword art then, it would have counted as comprehending the Sword Intent of Water, so in a way, it was: "But, I failed." Li Fang’s astonishment was indescribable. Even though the Young Master admitted failure in the process of creating the technique, the very act of forging a sword move suggested a proximity to the level of a Sword Dao Grandmaster.

Li Fang was utterly awed by his Young Master. Lu Yuan paid no mind to these subtle emotions.

He glanced up; the moon was already high in the sky. "Alright, let's head back." The cyan-robed youth strode forward under the moonlight.

The moon hung directly overhead, its light like flowing water. It gently draped itself over the young man's cyan robe.

A faint smile played on the youth's lips. The Nourishing My Sword rested upon his shoulder.

The path of crushed stones lay beneath his feet. (The recent patronage has been fantastic, with a grand appearance of 5888.

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