Truthfully, Zhou Qingxuan now felt that Lu Yuan was practically ready to enter the Great Cycle of Ten Thousand Swords, given that Lu Yuan had reached the True Sword King realm, surpassing his former, rougher Sword King status. However, Zhou Qingxuan sensed that Lu Yuan’s mind had been overly taxed recently.

Thus, Lu Yuan needed to rest a bit, to let his brain relax.

And this period of rest, Zhou Qingxuan had devised something rather unique and unconventional.

“Painting?” Lu Yuan was stunned.

The situation was this: Lu Yuan had been practicing his swordsmanship when Zhou Qingxuan suddenly produced a stack of Xuan paper, wolf-hair brushes, ink, and an inkstone. Lu Yuan, naturally curious, asked what this was for. When Zhou Qingxuan replied that he wanted Lu Yuan to paint, Lu Yuan was completely taken aback.

Lu Yuan had certainly heard tales—that among the Eighth Generation, the second-ranked Zhou Qingxuan was the most talented. Rumor had it that Martial Ancestor Zhou was not only superb in swordsmanship but also utterly versed in the arts of qin (zither), qi (Go), calligraphy, and painting—a rare prodigy in the cultivation world. Furthermore, it was said he had even taken a secular name and was a renowned poet in the mortal realm.

Lu Yuan could only offer a wry smile: “Martial Ancestor Zhou, my hands are generally only good for holding two things: wine and a sword. Brushes for painting? I’ve never even touched one. Martial Ancestor Zhou, you are a genius in every aspect, a true polymath; I am just an ordinary fellow.”

Zhou Qingxuan snorted coldly: “The Way of Heaven and Earth is fundamentally the same principle.”

“The Way of Martial Arts, the Way of Immortality, the Way of flower arrangement, the Way of cooking—the great principles are all identical.”

“The Way of Painting and the Way of the Blade of Light have a shared essence.”

“Since you have grasped Sword Intent and understood the fundamental meaning of the Great Dao, since you comprehend what rain is, how can you not draw it? The Great Dao, in essence, allows for many paths to the same destination,” Zhou Qingxuan stated.

Lu Yuan listened, feeling he understood somewhat, yet not entirely. He knew the principle intellectually, but the pressure of holding that brush was immense. He could write, but his characters were notoriously ugly; if his writing was so poor, painting was an even greater source of anxiety.

Zhou Qingxuan made a sudden gesture: “Write a line of characters first.”

Lu Yuan took the wolf-hair brush. Writing wasn't difficult, but his characters were indeed unattractive. He wrote a line: “Huashan Reflection Peak,” five characters. When these five characters emerged, Lu Yuan was utterly shocked. They were exquisitely rendered in the Seal Script, flowing like rain, moving like running water—truly fluid, ethereal, possessing an otherworldly quality.

Was this really his handwriting? Lu Yuan recalled his script looking nothing like this before. Could it be that grasping Sword Intent had subtly transformed his writing, making it so beautiful?

Perhaps Martial Ancestor Zhou’s assertion that he could paint held some truth?

In any case, he decided to try. Lu Yuan’s confidence increased slightly; the crushing pressure he felt earlier had somewhat receded. This time, he picked up the brush, ready to start, only to find himself paralyzed—he had no idea what to draw. He had never painted before. Zhou Qingxuan casually tossed over a roll of silk, which Lu Yuan unrolled to reveal a painting.

Even without skill in painting, he had seen artwork before.

Lu Yuan looked closely. In the image, distant mountains were softly brushed, while near them, ancient trees coiled around towering, sheer cliffs. A clear stream flowed emerald green, bordered by wild grasses. One figure leaned on a staff, gazing out, while another held a rod, fishing, eyes fixed intently on the water’s surface—form and spirit perfectly captured. The whole piece exuded magnificent force coupled with profound tranquility.

He then noticed the inscription beneath the brushwork: The Angler on the Azure Stream, followed by the seal of Mi Wanzhong.

“Copy this painting,” Zhou Qingxuan said flatly.

He had explained before that sword techniques consisted of two parts: fundamental movements like blocking, intercepting, guarding, and thrusting; and the other part was Sword Intent, which formed the basis of all sword moves. They had spent considerable time on methods to ‘forget the form but remember the move,’ deepening Lu Yuan’s foundation in these basic sword postures. Now, this was intended to further deepen Lu Yuan’s understanding of Sword Intent.

Besides, there was another crucial reason: to allow Lu Yuan to relax, to rest his mind before facing the Great Cycle of Ten Thousand Swords.

The difficulty of the Great Cycle of Ten Thousand Swords was staggeringly high.

After giving his instructions, Zhou Qingxuan stood aside with his hands clasped behind his back, watching.

He had been idle for too long; watching how far a junior could progress now was a welcome diversion.

He was absolutely not doing this to aid Huashan. He had long since severed any emotional ties with Huashan; their grievances had canceled each other out. He merely owed his senior brother a great debt, and this was his way of repaying it, Zhou Qingxuan mused to himself.

Lu Yuan began copying The Angler on the Azure Stream. Writing had gone reasonably well earlier, but copying this painting proved disastrous. How could such a beautiful scene turn into this mess under his hand? Lu Yuan sensed something wrong while copying, but after finishing, he saw the ancient trees had become mere blobs of ink, the stream transformed into a ditch, and the two figures barely resembled humans. It was utterly hideous, completely lacking any tranquility.

It was a disaster.

No choice but to try again.

Lu Yuan immediately began rethinking how to approach the painting. He realized that when writing earlier, he hadn't been consciously trying; but when copying the painting, he had been too deliberate.

One instance of carelessness, one instance of over-deliberation—the results naturally differed.

Moreover, painting required incorporating his own understanding of Sword Intent, Lu Yuan pondered internally, settling his mindset.

He set aside the spoiled sheet of Xuan paper and started anew. This time, he began with the water. What did his Water Sword Intent look like? By infusing the painting with the Water Intent, the entire stream beneath Lu Yuan’s brush gained a vital spark, looking quite similar to the stream in the original picture.

Next, the ancient tree. He had grasped Wood Sword Intent, so drawing an ancient tree shouldn't be too hard. He fully immersed his spirit and began sketching the tree.

This painting was now about halfway complete: the water, the ancient tree, and the surrounding weeds were present. However, the challenge lay with the massive cliffs and rocks. He understood Earth Sword Intent but had not grasped Stone Sword Intent. As for the human figures, he struggled there too. Never mind, he decided, don't force what isn't there. I’ll paint to the extent my current level allows.

After some time, the painting was finished. Lu Yuan examined it. In terms of the stream and the ancient tree, his work resembled the original closely. But in other areas—the figures, the huge rocks, the cliffs—it diverged significantly. Still, he had done his best.

Zhou Qingxuan nodded: “Acceptable.”

Next, Zhou Qingxuan tossed over another ancient painting, this time Misty Waves and Apricot Lightning. The entire piece was open and bright: continuous high mountains, winding water stretching far, sparse trees, misty waves fading into the distance—a scene of profound serenity. A thatched pavilion housed a desk, a single small boat floated on the water, and an old man tossed aside a book to row leisurely, contentedly adrift.

Lu Yuan began copying this one as well. Water was easy to paint, mist was easy, trees were easy. The old man was difficult, as were the high mountains. Lu Yuan simply did his utmost, infusing Sword Intent wherever he could, but not forcing the areas where he knew he couldn't capture the essence perfectly.

Subsequently, Lu Yuan copied a series of famous works: The Azure Stream Immortal Hall, Snowscape Landscape, Scrolling Picture of Facing the Moon, Hiding the Edge, The Burning of Epang Palace, The Spring Song of the Secluded Bird, and others. Through these exercises, Lu Yuan gained insights, feeling that his comprehension of Sword Intent had reached an entirely new level.

During this period, his mind had relaxed, and his grasp of Sword Intent had strengthened. This was still a process of solidifying his foundation, demonstrating Zhou Qingxuan’s extreme emphasis on fundamentals. It was known that Zhou Qingxuan, despite having numerous fortuitous encounters, could never defeat Yan Cangtian. Looking back, he realized it was because his many encounters had led to a shallow foundation, which was why he couldn't best Senior Brother Yan. Though he held no ambition to surpass his senior brother, ever since then, he placed greater importance on the foundation.

Stone!

Stones!

Images of stone after stone surfaced in his mind—stones he had been unable to render properly while copying paintings during this period. Now, they all flooded his consciousness. It seemed as if thousands of famous masters and grand artists of the Painting Dao were ceaselessly explaining the meaning of Stone Sword Intent to him.

Among all the subjects he had encountered in these paintings, stone and mountains seemed the most favored by the artists, alongside water and bamboo.

Lu Yuan quieted his mind, absorbing the masters’ understanding of the Painting Dao and of stone.

Innumerable thoughts settled within his core, and gradually, he formed a general grasp of Stone Sword Intent.

He reversed his grip on the sword and unleashed a strike. This posture was incredibly powerful and heavy, completely different from his usual sword forms.

Stone—hard, weighty.

And this strike was the same.

After swinging a few more times, Lu Yuan realized there was still some discrepancy. Thus, he began contemplating again. Various thoughts, various images, flashed through his mind. Finally, Lu Yuan let out a cry, leaped up, spun around, and drew his sword—hardness, weight, and the sense of ancient eternity.

This was the true Stone Sword Intent!

He hadn't expected to inadvertently awaken Stone Sword Intent; it was a welcome surprise.

His talent isn't bad after all, Zhou Qingxuan thought privately upon seeing Lu Yuan unleash that strike. He coughed, waiting for Lu Yuan to land before speaking formally: “Very well. Next, you can formally enter the Great Cycle of Ten Thousand Swords.”

Is it finally time? Lu Yuan wondered, unsure how he felt. He had followed Martial Ancestor Zhou’s guidance for some time. Martial Ancestor Zhou had said at the start that the beginning phase was easy, but entering the Great Cycle of Ten Thousand Swords would be difficult.

Yet, that 'easy' beginning hadn't been simple at all; he had nearly died at the hands of Elder Dian while practicing the Thrusting Sword technique.

If the ‘easy’ part carried the risk of death, what horrors awaited in the difficult Great Cycle of Ten Thousand Swords?