Qin Yeqiu departed, only to drift back shortly after, entering the small pavilion and placing a long sword upon the stone table. "This is Senior Ma's Dawn Sword."

Li Muzhan did not rush to take it, examining it closely first. The blade was slender, the scabbard mottled with age, clearly an ancient artifact at a glance.

Two white jade pieces, the size of dragon eyes, were inlaid on the hilt, yet a faint layer of crimson seemed to bloom across the jade, appearing at first glance as if a smear of rouge had been applied.

Without drawing the blade, Li Muzhan could already sense the sword's extraordinary nature.

Qin Yeqiu remarked, "This sword has followed Senior Ma through life and death, slaying many. It is a killing weapon, somewhat strange; no one has dared to use it all these years."

"Hmm—?" Li Muzhan looked up at her.

Sunlight slanted across the pavilion, illuminating her form. Her face was like fine white jade, her bright eyes like jewels, cool and profound. Though Li Muzhan had seen many beauties, he still found this Senior Sister deeply stirring.

The faint fragrance that had been present seemed to intensify, something Li Muzhan could sense clearly.

Qin Yeqiu's bright eyes shifted, glancing at the blade. "The sword's owner is affected by it, becoming restless, the urge to kill surging uncontrollably."

Li Muzhan asked, "Senior Sister, did you try it?"

Qin Yeqiu nodded. "I did. I inevitably became irritable without realizing it, feeling the urge to kill. I couldn't suppress this malevolent energy."

Li Muzhan inquired, "Then Senior Ma was quite a fierce killer back then?"

Qin Yeqiu shook her head. "Senior Ma was a true gentleman, one who rarely killed."

Li Muzhan frowned. "Then this sword was obtained by Senior Ma accidentally?"

"It was obtained alongside the Dawn Art, the Zhaoxia Gong. The Dawn Sword," Qin Yeqiu nodded lightly. "Senior Ma had profound fortune. He was first a scholar, then received a wondrous encounter, gaining the inheritance of the Zhaoxia Gong, and simultaneously obtaining the Dawn Sword."

Li Muzhan concluded, "It seems Senior Ma could control this sword, which suggests that only by practicing the Zhaoxia Gong can one master it."

"This sword cuts metal like mud; it is truly a formidable weapon, yet alas, no one can wield it," Qin Yeqiu shook her head gently.

Li Muzhan smiled. "Senior Sister, then let me try. But if I truly comprehend the Zhaoxia Gong, can you let me use this sword?"

"...Alright." Qin Yeqiu paused for a moment, then nodded slowly.

Li Muzhan smiled. "With this sword, I’ll have a greater measure of confidence."

"Your approach is unique. No one has ever attempted to comprehend the art by starting with the sword," Qin Yeqiu commented.

Li Muzhan slowly placed his hand upon the hilt. The dragon-eye sized white jade rested precisely over his Laogong point. Instantly, a warm, mellow energy flowed into him from the Laogong.

Li Muzhan frowned, his body relaxing while his spirit remained focused, enveloping this influx of energy. To his surprise, it circled through his meridians once before settling into his Dantian.

After this circuit, the energy was almost entirely dissipated. It seemed harmless, yet the minuscule trace remaining, as thin as a gossamer thread, was incomparably pure, almost tangible. If Li Muzhan’s spirit had not been exceptionally powerful, he would never have detected this sliver of energy.

Qin Yeqiu watched his face intently. When he opened his eyes, she asked, "How was it?"

Li Muzhan nodded. "Not bad."

Qin Yeqiu cautioned, "The moment you feel overwhelming anger or find everything displeasing, remove the sword immediately. One of our junior brothers once refused to heed this and suffered a martial deviation during practice; he needed a year of recuperation to recover his vital essence."

Li Muzhan chuckled. "Rest assured, Senior Sister, I will be careful."

"You are a scholar, you understand the methods of nurturing one's spirit and training the mind, but you must not be careless," Qin Yeqiu advised.

Li Muzhan nodded. "I understand."

Qin Yeqiu frowned and huffed softly. "Do you think I am nagging?"

Li Muzhan quickly waved his hands. "How could I be so ungrateful? Thank you for your concern, Senior Sister."

Qin Yeqiu pondered for a moment, then said slowly, "Never mind, I should make things clear to you."

Li Muzhan looked over with confusion. Qin Yeqiu continued, "Your aptitude is supreme; anyone who sees it wishes to take you in. However, whether there is one more or one less is not of crucial importance."

Li Muzhan smiled faintly and nodded. The foundation of a great sect is deep, its talent abundant. This abundance comes not from innate geniuses, but from the superior methods used to cultivate disciples. Furthermore, the world is vast; geniuses are numerous. One or two talents are not that significant.

Qin Yeqiu explained, "I risked offending others to bring both Master Cao and you into the Palace because you are a scholar with excellent martial aptitude, closely resembling Senior Ma."

Li Muzhan smiled knowingly. "So that is why. The Palace Mistress places high hopes on me."

Qin Yeqiu asked, "There must be an attempt made. ... Are you disappointed?"

Li Muzhan shook his head. "The Palace Mistress has been so candid that although I am disappointed, I also feel a weight lifted from my shoulders."

There is no such thing as a free lunch. To say one accepts someone simply based on good aptitude, eagerly seeking to bring them in—such an incredibly rare stroke of luck should not inspire trust. Human nature is inherently profit-seeking.

Li Muzhan had long been perplexed. Qin Yeqiu clearly opposed accepting male disciples, so why make an exception? While his aptitude was good, Qin Yeqiu was no ordinary person; her resolve was firm, and her vision broad. She wouldn't change her principles for him. Moreover, as the head of a Palace, she must never act based on emotion; every decision must consider the sect's benefit. For something without tangible gain, driven only by momentary impulse, a Palace Mistress rarely acts. Hearing her explanation now, Li Muzhan was finally reassured. This was normal: she took him in hoping for a sliver of success, and to protect his teacher's family.

"Good. I am relieved you think this way," Qin Yeqiu said. "I harbor just a slight hope and must try. If it fails, it’s fine; I will teach you diligently."

Li Muzhan smiled. "Thank you, Palace Mistress."

"No need for pleasantries. I am leaving." Qin Yeqiu nodded lightly. She could discern that whenever Li Muzhan called her Senior Sister, he was in good spirits and felt closeness; when he addressed her as Palace Mistress, his heart was distant. She shook her head subtly. Perhaps this conversation was premature, but it was better spoken early than late. This Li Wuji was supremely intelligent; honesty was best to avoid nurturing resentment when a favor was intended to breed goodwill.

Li Muzhan watched her depart, shaking his head and sighing. The fleeting warmth he felt had entirely vanished. A Palace Mistress was a Palace Mistress; she could not be treated as just a woman.

His thoughts drifted to his women, currently in two other worlds, missing him. The boundless Guangming Xin Jing circulated in his mind, and on the Bright Mountain, their longing surged. He instantly felt filled with power—he must find a way back, find the demonic artifacts, to move freely through the world, unconstrained, living carefree.

As this thought surged, his heart pounded. After taking a few breaths to suppress the excitement, he calmed his mind and picked up the long sword, drawing it out gently. With a sound like a dragon's cry, a sliver of cold light flashed into his vision.

Li Muzhan narrowed his eyes slightly, silently admiring the fine blade. He slowly drew it fully out. The blade was mirror-bright, reflecting his own face perfectly. This blade was obviously different from ordinary swords; it was far too luminous. A slight movement to catch the sunlight made the small pavilion several shades brighter.

He brought the blade closer, and Li Muzhan was astonished. The blade held no chill whatsoever; instead, it felt warm and comforting, like a spring breeze caressing the face. Li Muzhan had encountered many divine weapons, some radiating biting cold, others deep and silent, but he had never encountered a long sword that felt genuinely warm.

Li Muzhan gently rotated the blade and dimly perceived two characters inscribed within. These characters, resembling two stylized flowers, exuded an ancient aura that Li Muzhan did not recognize.

He considered for a moment, then left the pavilion carrying the sword, entering the main house. He went to the bookshelf, running his fingers over every volume until he stopped, pulling one out.

He brought the book and the sword to the writing desk, not sheathing the weapon, but laying it flat on the desk. He began flipping through the pages. The pages rustled loudly until he suddenly stopped, a smile breaking across his face.

This book was a comparison between ancient and modern scripts. When he had casually scanned it before, he had tossed it aside because it contained very few ancient texts. He never expected it to be useful now. After flipping through, he found the two characters and smiled. They were indeed the characters for Zhaoxia (Dawn/Morning Glow)—no wonder it was called the Dawn Sword; there was a reason for the name.

To inscribe characters into the metal of a sword, making them faintly visible, was truly divine artistry. How they were embedded, he simply could not fathom.

Now that he knew the characters, his interest waned. He rose, returned the sword to its sheath, fastened it to his waist, and began practicing calligraphy with the sword in hand.

Sensing the aura emanating from the sword, Li Muzhan experienced Senior Ma’s state of mind. The characters he formed under his brush unconsciously began to change, imbued with an inexplicable, subtle spirit.

Page after page of plain paper drifted to the floor beside him. Li Muzhan would write a character, then discard it, unsatisfied, perpetually seeking the moment when his energy matched the sword’s aura.

He wrote like this for two days, resting when tired and writing as soon as he awoke. The pavilion was already piled high with discarded paper, and sheets flew out of the pavilion, littering the entire courtyard.

One morning, after washing up, he slowly entered the pavilion and wrote those three characters again. He suddenly stopped, a look of delight spreading across his face as he admired the three characters before him. They were identical to the three characters carved on the Zhaoxia Hall—absolutely no difference. In terms of shape or spirit, they were exactly the same. In this age, aside from someone with Li Muzhan's formidable spirit who could simulate and deduce in his mind, no one else could achieve this.

After admiring them with joy for a few moments, Li Muzhan shook his head. He realized he had guessed wrong. He had initially assumed that simply replicating the three characters perfectly would allow him to connect with the profound mysteries etched within. The Buddha transmitted the Dharma Seal, and Kasyapa understood with a smile during the Flower Sermon—Li Muzhan had believed Senior Ma passed on his teachings in a similar manner, hence his diligent practice of calligraphy, striving to match the master. Now, it seemed he was mistaken; his speculation had led to nothing.

As he frowned in confusion, the courtyard gate sounded. Qiao Zaixian and Lin Beihai entered. Seeing the white paper fluttering throughout the yard, and Li Muzhan standing with a tightly knit brow, they froze in place.

"Junior Brother Li, what is happening?" Qiao Zaixian looked around, puzzled. Li Muzhan's state seemed strangely intense, and they truly couldn't—Fastest text updates from Shumi Lou

His mind raced, trying to pinpoint where the error lay, why it wasn't working, why comprehension eluded him. Logically, it should have been close. He had absolute confidence in his comprehension; in his previous two worlds, nothing had truly stumped him. At its core, this was due to practicing the Guan Tian Ren Shen Zhao Jing, which gave him precise intuition and the ability to deduce in his mind, like a contemporary computer. This time, he had been equally confident, verbally saying he would do his best, but inwardly certain he could break through—only to find it all amounted to nothing.

Seeing Li Muzhan like this, Qiao Zaixian sensed something was wrong and hurried forward, patting his shoulder. "Junior Brother Li, you are too tired. Rest a bit!"

Li Muzhan slowly returned to his senses, reining in his thoughts, and shook his head with a bitter smile. "You two Senior Brothers have made me look foolish. Come inside and sit."

"No need, no need. This place is fine, open and bright," Qiao Zaixian waved his hand and sat down first.

Lin Beihai added, "Junior Brother Li, don't force yourself."

Li Muzhan nodded and smiled. "I was quite absorbed recently. How are you doing, Senior Brother Lin?"

"Minor injuries," Lin Beihai nodded. "Healed."

Qiao Zaixian chuckled heartily. "We’re used to it. After taking so many beatings, we've mastered healing heart-methods. It's a great life-saving skill when we go outside!"

Li Muzhan caught the self-mockery in his tone and laughed. "Senior Brother Qiao, don't bother arguing with them. A real man can bend and endure."

"I like hearing that! Haha..." Qiao Zaixian clapped Li Muzhan on the shoulder and roared with laughter.

Lin Beihai snorted coldly. "If you don't argue with them, they will argue with you. You can't avoid it. If you want peace, you have to crush them!"

Qiao Zaixian shook his head. "Easier said than done. Their heart-methods are far superior to ours. You don't notice it early on, but it becomes more obvious the further you advance."

Lin Beihai glanced at Qiao Zaixian and grunted, "Eldest Senior Brother, this is the trouble you caused!"

"Sigh... Junior Brother Lin, stop blaming me. That's been going on for hundreds of times!" Qiao Zaixian gave a helpless, wry smile.

Li Muzhan was confused. Lin Beihai grumbled, "Eldest Senior Brother started at about the same time as them, but because his aptitude was better, he pulled ahead and started showing off. Now they are getting their revenge."

Li Muzhan smiled. "Retribution is swift."

Qiao Zaixian huffed sullenly. "If I had known how formidable they were, I wouldn't have provoked them. They were being utterly unreasonable back then, and I truly couldn't stand it!"

Li Muzhan conceded, "It seems we can't blame Senior Brother Qiao."

"At least Junior Brother Li is fair!" Qiao Zaixian quickly nodded, then snorted at Lin Beihai, "Unlike you, holding onto it—so petty!"

Lin Beihai retorted irritably, "Then Eldest Senior Brother, win some respect for us! Why should we be bullied by a group of women!"

Qiao Zaixian sighed. "If the heart-method is inferior, what can one do? I certainly haven't been lazy!"

Lin Beihai fell silent, saying no more. The two of them had trained almost side-by-side; in terms of diligence, none in the Purple Robe Palace could compare. Unfortunately, their cultivation method was lacking, so even with greater effort, they couldn't match the others. It was like running with all your might on foot, yet watching someone on horseback leave you farther and farther behind—a truly despairing feeling.

Now, among the eight disciples, the other six had already lost hope and endured in silence. After bullying them twice, the women stopped bothering them, focusing their troubles only on these two.