Chapter 72

Chapter 71. It seems something about Huashan has changed. (1)

Swoosh!

Yun Jian skillfully retracted his sword.

A drop of sweat trickled down his forehead.

'What a fine sword.'

Indeed, this Seven Plum Sword was different from the swords they had learned at Huashan so far. Although it could not be called the ultimate technique, a mysterious aura emanated from the sword.

It would take a lot of time to wield this sword skillfully, but even with what they had learned so far, it was enough to confirm that the Seven Plum Sword was a level above the other swords of Huashan.

'If I can properly pass on this sword, Huashan will become even stronger.'

Not only the current generation but the future generations will become even stronger.

Just thinking about it made it hard for Yun Jian to suppress the smile that kept blooming on his face.

"Cough."

Yun Jian quickly rubbed his mouth.

"This is quite a dilemma."

After all, as a teacher, he should appear strict to his disciples, but lately, he can't help but laugh.

How could it be otherwise?

The hardships the third-generation disciples have faced at Huashan can hardly be called hardships. The first-generation disciples have endured unimaginable hardships since they entered the mountain.

They dedicated their entire youth to Huashan, shouldering the declining sect, overcoming difficulties, and enduring pain. After a long, dark era, they are finally beginning to see a glimmer of light.

'But it's not yet a bright future.'

They are just beginning to see the light. Yun Jian also knew well that there was still a long way to go.

However, he couldn't help but smile because the third-generation disciples have been growing at an incredibly fast pace recently.

The senior disciples and fellow disciples seem to be overjoyed by the improvement in Huashan's finances and the recovery of past martial arts, but Yun Jian is different.

As the head of Bai Mei Pavilion, the growth of his disciples is the most important thing to him and also his greatest joy.

'Those kids are different from us.'

The current first-generation disciples also worked hard, but unfortunately, the situation at Huashan did not provide an environment where they could focus entirely on martial arts. To be honest, their passion for martial arts was not outstanding.

However, the current third-generation disciples are dedicating themselves to their training with more passion than any previous Huashan disciples.

"Hmm."

Yun Jian made a pleasant snort, sheathed his sword, and left the training ground with a light step. It was time to train the kids.

His mind was filled with pleasant thoughts.

If the improved environment of Huashan, the new martial arts, and the passion of the third-generation disciples were combined, there was a good possibility that Huashan could make a glorious comeback.

And the main characters would be the third-generation disciples.

"I have to work harder to make it happen!"

How could he call himself a teacher if he couldn't lead the hardworking disciples?

Yun Jian turned the corner and entered the training ground with a bright face, shouting,

"Alright, let's work hard today... What the hell is this, crazy!"

Yun Jian jumped back in shock.

Before his eyes, a scene of chaos unfolded.

"Ugh... My... My arm!"

"Ah, my... My back... My back is breaking... My back!"

"Please, save me... Save me..."

Yun Jian rubbed his eyes without realizing it.

What kind of hell is this in a training ground that should be filled with dreams, hopes, and the passion for the future?

The third-generation disciples were sprawled on the ground, groaning, with their shoulders trembling and saliva dripping from their mouths, hinting at what had happened.

"What the...?"

At that moment, a sound of someone still full of energy reached Yun Jian's ears.

"Whoosh!"

Yun Jian's head snapped around. He saw Zhaoge, who had taken off his shirt, swinging a wooden sword.

"Zhaoge... Zhaoge..."

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Sweat poured down his body like rain. With each swing, sweat splattered in all directions, and hot breath puffed out of his mouth.

His bloodshot eyes and trembling shoulders spoke of the immense effort he was putting in. Even Yun Jian, who had only seen this for a moment, felt his shoulders ache and his legs tremble.

"Come on, one more."

Yun Jian's gaze shifted slightly to the side.

'What is this?'

Next to Zhaoge, Qingming was holding a sword calmly. Unlike Zhaoge, who was drenched in sweat, Qingming looked refreshingly neat.

His clothes were neatly pressed, and not a single strand of his combed hair was out of place. Unlike the senior disciples, who looked like they were about to die, Qingming was swinging his sword with a relaxed expression.

"Just swinging the sword isn't enough. You need to put all your strength from your toes to the top of your head into each swing! One more!"

Yun Jian's mind felt like a cart wheel squeaking and rolling. His head was spinning, trying to understand the situation.

What's going on here?

Isn't Qingming the youngest among the third-generation disciples? Why is Qingming teaching Zhaoge?

What's more, everything he's saying is correct.

"Come on, just one more..."

"Argh!"

Finally, Zhaoge, unable to bear it, collapsed on the ground, twitching. Qingming clicked his tongue at the sight.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. How can a person be so weak?"

Qingming sighed deeply.

"Abusing your body like this is what animals do. Use your head! Think about how to put all your strength into each swing and then do it!"

What?

Yun Jian's eyes trembled.

The other senior disciples didn't know, but Yun Jian was aware to some extent that Qingming had a hold over the third-generation disciples. It was a strange situation, but sometimes, geniuses appear who surpass their age, right?

However, what Qingming was saying now wasn't just about having talent and ability.

'Does this kid have a deep understanding of martial arts as well?'

The more he saw, the more amazing it became.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Yun Jian realized it wasn't the time for this.

"What's going on here!"

Yun Jian shouted, and Qingming's head snapped around.

"Oh, Master!"

He ran up to Yun Jian.

"Did you have a good night?"

Seeing this, the third-generation disciples gritted their teeth.

'That despicable brat!'

'If he had entered the imperial palace, he would have been a notorious minister in history!'

'A human scum who would bend a needle if pricked with one!'

How could they not feel their stomachs churn at the sight of a guy who usually lived by his own rules being so respectful to Yun Jian?

Especially the biggest victims, Zhaoge and Yunzhong, looked at Qingming with a resigned expression.

"What's going on here?"

"We were training."

"Training? This?"

Well, it is training, right? Yun Jian had seen Zhaoge swinging the sword with his own eyes. But the result...

"Ugh..."

"Master... Master..."

"It's... too hard. I feel like I'm going to die..."

The third-generation disciples looked at their teacher like drenched puppies. Yun Jian, moved by their gaze, raised his voice without realizing it.

"Training is a process to strengthen the body and improve one's level. Don't you know that overdoing it can be harmful? And you..."

"I know, Master."

"Huh?"

Yun Jian narrowed his eyes slightly at Qingming's interruption. Wasn't he cutting off his own words?

"But this training wasn't started by me. The senior disciples said they wouldn't be disgraced at the Huazong Assembly this time..."

"...Huazong Assembly?"

Right. The Huazong Assembly is coming soon. That's true, but...

"The senior disciples are still bitter about the last Huazong Assembly..."

Bitter?

Yun Jian turned his head slightly to look at the third-generation disciples.

Behind Qingming, the kids were frantically waving their hands. Seeing this, something welled up inside Yun Jian.

"They don't seem to feel that way?"

"Come on. How can they call themselves Huashan disciples if they can take a beating from the Zongnan scum and not care? Huashan has its pride!"

Hmm?

That's actually true?

"One loss is acceptable. But losing twice is unacceptable, isn't it? How can a Huashan disciple lose to Zongnan?"

"...That's true."

Confusion began to take hold in Yun Jian's mind.

There are two things he values most in the world: pride in Huashan and raising his disciples properly.

Now, these two issues were starting to clash in his mind.

Reading the turmoil in Yun Jian's eyes, Qingming leaned in and whispered,

"Think about it, Master. The best way to enhance Huashan's reputation is for the senior disciples to become strong and crush those guys, isn't it?"

"That's... true."

"Then the elders will praise your efforts."

'You sly fox.'

Yun Jian wasn't unaware that Qingming was gently persuading him. But the words he was hearing were so sweet. He didn't care about the praise, but winning against Zongnan...

"Is it possible?"

Yun Jian asked without realizing it. His question carried many meanings.

Qingming smiled.

"It's me, Qingming."

"..."

Yun Jian looked at Qingming for a moment and cleared his throat.

After all, it was Qingming who had changed these kids. The kids, who had been complacent, had changed in just a few months after meeting Qingming.

Maybe this process is more necessary than learning another sword technique. Even if Yun Jian were to teach them from now on, it would be impossible to make them beat Zongnan's disciples.

'One more time...'

Yun Jian looked around and spoke.

"Disciples, listen."

"Yes! Master!"

The third-generation disciples looked at Yun Jian with pitiful eyes. It was their last hope...

"I am proud of your passion. Normally, it would be my responsibility to train you, but it wouldn't be right to interfere with your voluntary training."

...It's collapsing?

What? Hope is collapsing?

"I will leave the training to your discretion until the Huazong Assembly. You don't have to come to the training ground during this time, but be careful not to hurt yourselves."

Master?

...This isn't right? What? Master?

"Cough. Continue then."

Yun Jian turned around.

Some of the third-generation disciples unconsciously extended their hands forward but retracted them slowly when they saw Qingming's gaze.

When Yun Jian finally left the training ground, Qingming turned his body and tilted his head.

"Whoever said it was too hard to Master just now, step forward."

"..."

"Quickly."

"..."

Seeing Qingming draw his wooden sword from his waist, the third-generation disciples' eyes turned to despair.