Three months quietly slipped by after Ye Feng entered the Book Pavilion. During this time, he cultivated diligently each day, and whenever he had free time, he returned to the pavilion to study. Within its silent halls, surrounded by endless scrolls and books, Ye Feng immersed himself completely. Little by little, his understanding of the Tian Yuan Continent and cultivation grew deeper.
Outside of reading, Ye Feng often made his way to the clan's training grounds. There, he observed the clansmen and guards sparring intensely, studying their movements, footwork, and techniques. Though he did not participate directly, each scene of clashing blades became a valuable lesson, slowly sharpening his insight and resolve.
Whenever Ye Feng visited the clan's training ground, he often stood quietly at the sidelines, observing the clansmen and guards as they sparred. They trained with a variety of weapons—swords, war hammers, staffs, spears, sabres, heavy axes, even bows.
As he watched, Ye Feng didn't merely look at the clashes. His gaze followed every movement. He studied how each weapon was used—the stance, the timing, the rhythm of the strikes. He noted the strengths and weaknesses of every style: the reach of the spear, the power of the axe, the flexibility of the staff, the precision of the sword.
The longer he watched, the more his understanding deepened. He analyzed, compared, and mentally dissected each technique.
Ye Feng found himself genuinely enjoying the atmosphere of the training ground. It was not just practice—it was knowledge, and he was absorbing all of it.
Ever since Ye Feng learned about Saint Weapons, he began spending more time at the clan's training grounds, quietly watching the guards and clansmen spar. He studied each bout carefully—how they held their weapons, how they moved, how their strength and intent flowed through every strike. He wanted to understand the essence behind each weapon.
However, whenever his gaze fell upon those who wielded swords, a strange sensation stirred within him. Whether it was the arc of a swing, the sharp thrust of a stab, or the fluid footwork used to guide the blade—something about it all felt familiar. Deeply familiar.
He tried to figure out this strong familiar sensation he is feeling but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure it out. In the end, he chose not to dwell on it and pushed the thought to the back of his mind—for now.
One day, while Ye Feng was watching the spars in the training ground, the guard commander of the Ye clan approached him.
"Fifth Young Master, it's good to see you today. I see you're watching the spars as usual."
Ye Feng smiled at the guard commander. "Uncle Mu."
Mu sat down beside Ye Feng. He was bald, with a bulky, muscular physique, and looked to be in his middle years. A thick brown beard covered his face, adding to his rugged appearance.
Mu looked at Ye Feng and said, "You've been coming here and watching the spars every day, young master—three months straight now. If there's anything that confuses you, perhaps I can help."
Ye Feng thought for a moment before shaking his head. "That's not it, Uncle Mu. I come here because I read in a book that to become a Saint, one must condense a Saint Weapon. By observing the spars, I gain valuable insights into weapon techniques and learn the advantages and drawbacks each weapon holds in battle."
Ye Feng's words took Mu by surprise, and a look of admiration flashed across his face.
"Young master, you are truly perceptive," Mu said, nodding approvingly. "But have you given thought to what kind of weapon you wish to wield?"
Ye Feng pondered for a moment before replying, "I'm not sure, Uncle Mu. But whenever I see someone wielding a sword, I feel… a strange sense of familiarity. I don't understand why. I'm only two years old—I've never even held a sword before."
Mu's eyes widened in astonishment.
Ye Feng, meanwhile, sank into his thoughts. 'Could it be that I wielded a sword in my past life? I can't remember anything from back then… Still, there's a possibility I was once a sword practitioner. But there's no point dwelling on the past. I am Ye Feng now—the fifth young master of the Ye clan.'
Mu pondered Ye Feng's words for a moment before a smile spread across his face.
"Well, young master," he said, "I can think of only one reason why you feel that sense of familiarity whenever you see someone wielding a sword."
Ye Feng's eyes brightened with curiosity as he leaned in to listen. Seeing his full attention, Mu continued.
"I believe it's because you are naturally compatible with the sword."
Ye Feng looked puzzled. "Compatible?" he asked.
Mu nodded with a faint smile. "Yes. Every individual is unique — their personality, how they handle situations, their fighting style — all of it. Because of that, some cultivators are naturally gifted with certain weapons. These weapons suit them perfectly, almost as if they were extensions of their own bodies. But if you give them a different weapon, they'll never perform as well as when using the one they're truly attuned to."
He paused, studying Ye Feng's expression before continuing, "You, young master, seem to have a deep compatibility with the sword. That's likely why you feel this sense of familiarity whenever you see one being used. My advice is to start learning swordsmanship. In time, you'll understand the reason behind this connection—so long as you continue to walk the path of the sword."
Mu stood up and extended his hand to Ye Feng. Smiling, Ye Feng took it, and Mu helped him to his feet. Together, they walked toward the training weapons storage room located in the corner of the training ground.
_________
Inside the Training Weapons Storage Room
When Ye Feng and Mu entered the training weapons storage room, Ye Feng's eyes widened. Racks upon racks of weapons filled the space—swords, blades, sabres, bows—every kind of weapon imaginable.
"Young master, come here," Mu called out.
Ye Feng walked over and saw a row of wooden weapons laid neatly before him. Mu picked up a wooden sword and said, "We'll start with this, young master. A wooden sword will help you learn the basics and build a solid foundation in swordsmanship." He paused, smiling gently. "You're still young, so don't be impatient, young master."
Ye Feng nodded in understanding.
Ye Feng picked up a wooden sword and began swinging it repeatedly, each motion fluid and precise—as if he had trained for years. Mu's eyes widened in disbelief. 'H-He's swinging the sword so smoothly… so gracefully. No one could reach this level without years of practice.'
A bead of sweat rolled down Mu's temple as he swallowed hard. A wry smile tugged at his lips. 'Hehe… I think I've just awakened a sword-cultivating monster.'
Mu took a deep breath to calm himself, then looked at Ye Feng and said, "Young master, let's go." Ye Feng nodded and followed him out of the training weapons storage room.
_______
In the Training Ground
Looking around, Mu noticed a young man with a tan complexion, wavy blue hair, and striking blue eyes. His slim yet muscular build was accentuated by the Ye clan guard uniform he wore with sharp precision.
Mu called out, "De, come here."
De hurried over. "Sir?"
Mu smiled warmly. "Relax, De. I called you because I want to see if you wouldn't mind teaching the Fifth Young Master the basics of swordsmanship."
De froze in surprise, pointing at himself with a dumbfounded look. "Me? Teaching?"
Mu couldn't contain his laughter and bellowed, "HAHAHAHAHA! Of course you, De. How many 'De's do you think are roaming around the training ground?"
On the training ground, the guards and Ye clansmen couldn't help but laugh at Mu's comment. De blushed, looking embarrassed, but Mu's expression turned serious. "De," he said, "your swordsmanship is among the finest in the Ye clan's guards. I believe you are the best person to train the fifth young master."
After hearing Mu's words, De felt a surge of determination. He looked at Mu resolutely and said, "I will do my best, Commander, though I've never taught anyone before." Mu nodded firmly. "I believe in you. And remember, your brothers will support you if you stumble. Isn't that right, men?"
All the guards—and even the Ye clansmen—shouted in unison, "Yeahhhh!"
De let out a helpless sigh, then smiled and nodded, a quiet confidence settling over him.
De walked over to Ye Feng. "Young master, let's train in the corner of the training ground."
Ye Feng nodded and followed him. When they reached the corner, the two stopped and looked at each other. De spoke first: "Young master, I'll start by showing you the proper stance for wielding a sword. Once you've mastered that, I'll teach you the basic attacking patterns, and we'll go from there. Now, stand next to me."
Ye Feng stood beside De, and after observing his stance, he mirrored it perfectly. De blinked in surprise for a moment, but it didn't unsettle him. He then began demonstrating the basic swordsmanship attack patterns. Yet, as Ye Feng followed along, De froze in astonishment. Each of Ye Feng's movements was executed flawlessly, his sword swings smoother and more graceful than De's own. De couldn't tear his eyes away.
"Is this… talent? Could the fifth young master truly be a sword prodigy?"
Ye Qian crouched in the shadows outside the training-weapons storage room, eyes fixed on Ye Feng like a predator studying prey. There was no blind rage in him — only a cold, patient killing intent. 'Not yet,' he told himself. 'I can't risk exposing my intention now, I'm not ready yet. I would have to speed up my plans and contact the underworld sect immediately. I couldn't afford and give Ye Feng time to grow — that would only make things harder for me in the future.'
Ye Qian then melted into the shadows, leaving no trace behind. On the training ground, no one noticed his presence.
_______
After Five Months
Five months had passed since Ye Feng began training in swordsmanship under De. Today, Chong Ying led him to the Ye clan hall, where all the elders and many clansmen had gathered—today was special day because Ye Feng had just turned three.
Ye Guo's eyes lit up when he saw his son. "Feng'er," he said warmly, "I'm sure your mother has told you what will happen today, but let me remind you: we will be examining your Saint Energy."
Ye Feng nodded respectfully to his father.
Ye Guo then turned to Elder Yun. "Elder Yun, would you do the honor of examining Feng'er's Saint Energy?"
Elder Yun's smile was gentle but proud. "It would be my pleasure, Patriarch."
Elder Yun stood and strode to the center of the hall. Reaching the middle, he drew a black stone from his space ring. The stone was massive—five meters tall and five meters wide. Elder Yun turned to Ye Feng, a smile playing across his face.
"Fifth young master, please step forward."
Ye Feng obeyed, moving toward him. Elder Yun's smile never wavered. "Listen carefully young master. Place your palm on the stone—and do not remove it until I tell you. Do you understand?"
Ye Feng nodded.
Ye Feng laid his palm on the stone. As soon as Elder Yun mirrored him, a jolt of tingling shot through Ye Feng's palm, exploding through his body in a heartbeat.
The black stone first shone brightly, then glowed a deep red. Five seconds later, it shifted to a brilliant orange.
All who witnessed the test were stunned, their eyes widening as the black stone shifted to a brilliant orange. At first, murmurs of disbelief rippled through the crowd: "T… T… The F… Fifth Y… Y… Young M… Master… fifth-layer S… S… Saint F… Force…" The hall then erupted into chaos once everyone realized what they were seeing. In the corner, Ye Qian's hand clenched into a fist so tight that his nails pierced his palm, and droplets of blood fell to the floor.
Ye Guo and Chong Ying looked at their son with pride. Ye Guo smiled warmly. "Feng'er, you did well, son. I am very proud of you." He then turned to the rest of his clansmen. "This is a joyous occasion for our clan. Let us celebrate!"
Joyful shouts filled the hall, and the cooks hurried to prepare a grand feast. The Ye clan spent the entire night eating, drinking, and celebrating—everyone except Ye Qian, who quietly packed his belongings after leaving a letter for Ye Guo.