Cultivating Immortality, Starting from Childhood Sweethearts

Xu Ming once again arrived at Wanhua Valley.

However, this time, he wasn’t here to visit; he was here to stay.

When Xu Ming stepped into Wanhua Valley, Qin Qingwan was already there, waiting for him. It seemed she had long known about his plan to reside in the valley.

“For the next few days, you’ll stay here,” Wang Xuan said as she led Xu Ming to a newly built wooden cabin.

Inside, there was a table and a bed with neatly folded blankets.

It was clear that Wang Xuan’s decision to let Xu Ming stay in Wanhua Valley wasn’t prompted by Xia Donghua’s visit. She must have planned this from the start—otherwise, the cabin wouldn’t have been prepared in advance, complete with furnishings and daily necessities.

“Thank you for the trouble, Senior,” Xu Ming said, bowing respectfully. However, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. “Senior, perhaps I should stay outside the valley instead?”

Wanhua Valley only had two residents—Qingwan and Wang Xuan—both women. Xu Ming worried that his presence might tarnish their reputation. If he stayed just outside the valley, Xia He wouldn’t dare make a move on him, and he could avoid inconveniencing them.

“Outside the valley, disciples come and go. If you stayed there, it would only draw more attention. Someone might even call you a creep,” Wang Xuan replied calmly. “It’s better if you stay in the valley. Besides, no other disciples will visit Wanhua Valley these few days, so hardly anyone will know. And even if someone does, so what? In Tianxuan Sect, there are few who would dare speak ill of me.”

“In that case, I’ll trouble you,” Xu Ming said, no longer pressing the issue. Since Elder Wang Xuan had said so, refusing further would seem unnecessarily stubborn.

“Let’s go, Qingwan.”

Wang Xuan nodded, said no more, and turned to leave the cabin.

“My master and I have some matters to attend to. Treat this place as your home,” Qin Qingwan said reluctantly. She glanced at Xu Ming, clearly wishing she could stay with him, but ultimately followed her master.

Xu Ming guessed that Wang Xuan was likely taking Qingwan to train.

After unpacking his belongings, Xu Ming sat in the cabin for a while. Initially, he planned to go out as little as possible to avoid causing trouble.

But then he reconsidered—he wasn’t some improper person. Why should he act guilty? They hadn’t thought much of it; acting overly cautious would make him seem as though he had ulterior motives.

With that in mind, Xu Ming stepped out of the cabin and decided to explore Wanhua Valley, curious to see the place where Qingwan had spent all these years.

Wanhua Valley was vast. Although surrounded by mountains on all sides, it didn’t feel claustrophobic.

Fields of flowers stretched endlessly, blending into the horizon, making the valley feel like a world apart.

Wandering aimlessly, Xu Ming felt his heart grow increasingly calm. Before he knew it, he entered a state of enlightenment.

A sudden thought crossed his mind—he wanted to practice swordsmanship.

Drawing his Nine Heavens Thunder Sword, Xu Ming began to swing it freely, moving as he felt.

Strangely enough, Xu Ming was a sword cultivator, yet he had never received formal training in swordsmanship or studied a complete sword technique.

The only techniques he knew were the Bingyang Sword Technique of the Wanjian Sect—which was more of a sword art than a sword style—and the Azure Sea Sword Moves he had imitated from the Northern Sea Sect.

Other than that, there was just the sword move taught to him by Xu Cang.

“Let the sword follow the heart; let the intent guide the movement.”

As Xu Ming sheathed his sword, a serene voice, as natural as the flow of nature itself, rang out from nearby.

Turning his head, Xu Ming saw Wang Xuan standing not far away.

“Senior,” Xu Ming said, bowing with his sword.

“Your swordsmanship is peculiar—disjointed, pieced together from various sources, and lacking any system. Who is your master? How could they teach you like this?” Wang Xuan asked.

Xu Ming chuckled. “Strictly speaking, I don’t have a master. Everything I know is self-taught, save for one sword move taught by an old gentleman.”

“No wonder,” Wang Xuan remarked.

Wang Xuan nodded slightly, then extended her fair, delicate hand toward Xu Ming.

Xu Ming was momentarily stunned before realizing that Wang Xuan was asking for the sword in his hand.

He stepped forward and placed the Nine Heavens Thunder Sword into her hand.

“Though I am a Dao cultivator, I know a thing or two about swordsmanship. If you’re willing to listen, I can share my thoughts as a reference,” Wang Xuan said, seeking Xu Ming’s opinion.

Xu Ming bowed respectfully. “You are too kind, Senior. This junior is honored to listen.”

“Very well.”

Wang Xuan gave a simple response and swept her sleeve lightly across the sword.

“The so-called Way of the Sword comprises three aspects: sword techniques, sword qi, and sword intent.

Mastery of sword techniques can give rise to sword qi; strong sword qi can lead to the formation of sword intent.

Most people believe sword intent is the highest realm of the Way of the Sword. They regard it as the essence of swordsmanship itself.

Such people often see sword techniques and sword qi merely as stepping stones to sword intent and dismiss them, focusing solely on cultivating sword intent.

I wouldn’t say they’re wrong.

But in my opinion, that perspective is incomplete.

Sword techniques, sword qi, and sword intent are of equal standing—none is inherently superior to the others.

In the past, Wang Xiaoyu broke three thousand golden soldiers with his sword techniques.

Jiang Luoyu suppressed the Demon Prison for three hundred years using sword qi.

Xu Cang battled four sect masters and five holy lords with his sword intent.

These individuals all reached unparalleled heights in their respective aspects of swordsmanship, each becoming a legend in their own right.

However, Wang Xiaoyu’s sword qi was weak, and his sword intent fragmented.

Jiang Luoyu’s sword intent was decent, but her sword techniques were average.

Xu Cang’s sword intent was exceptional, yet he exchanged over a thousand moves with Wang Xiaoyu without either gaining the upper hand.

So, is sword intent truly supreme?

Even Xu Cang himself wouldn’t dare make such a claim.”

Xu Ming listened intently, then voiced a question that had been on his mind. “If I may ask, Senior, when I was on Sanshi Peak, Xu Cang told me it was a pity I had not followed a complete sword path. If I were to start anew on the sword path now, would it be too late?”

“It is too late.”

Wang Xuan shook her head.

“I know what you’re thinking.

Indeed, every sword sect has its own unique system, known as the sword path. From a young age, their disciples are trained in sword techniques, sword qi, and sword intent, polishing them step by step. Compared to ordinary cultivators, their swordsmanship is far more complete.

The sword path leads to the Way of the Sword—but only for those just beginning their journey.

As for you, no matter what you do, you’ve already set foot on your own path, and there’s no turning back.

In truth, you’ve already embarked on a sword path. It’s just that your path is yours alone, entirely different from anyone else’s.

What you can do now is to keep moving forward.

One day, when you’re confident that your chosen path is viable and no longer question yourself, you’ll know you’ve succeeded.

To put it simply, when your path can reach the ultimate truth, it can be called the Way of the Sword.

Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Xu Ming thought carefully for a moment, then shook his head. “I only partially understand.”

Wang Xuan smiled faintly. “That’s how it should be. If you fully understood, you wouldn’t have asked me this question, and I wouldn’t have needed to explain.

In any case, from my perspective:

Your sword qi is sharp, and your sword intent has already been shaped by Xu Cang’s move—this is more than enough for now.

However, your sword techniques remain incomplete. That is your weak point.

I have a sword technique here, discovered in a cave in the Northern Wilderness. It has no name, so I’ve given it one: ‘Grass Script Sword Art.’

This Grass Script Sword Art is decent enough, and I shall now pass it on to you.

I can only demonstrate it once, so watch carefully.

If you fail to learn it in one go, it means the Grass Script Sword Art is not fated to be yours.”

As the words fell, Wang Xuan began to wield the longsword in her hand.

Xu Ming’s eyes lit up with the patterns of Dao runes.

Although Xu Ming had confidence in his own talent for the Way of the Sword, to be safe, he activated his Dao Pattern Eyes—after all, he only had one chance.

Clad in her white dress, Wang Xuan moved gracefully with the sword, each movement blending the sharpness of the blade with the softness of a woman’s grace.

Every thrust, every swing, was precise and flawless. Her posture was powerful yet elegant, and the drifting flower petals in the air made the scene resemble a painting.

At this moment, Xu Ming began to understand why some emperors were so fond of watching beautiful women perform sword dances.

The contrast between the sword’s fierceness and the woman’s fluid grace created a perfect harmony.

Each move of the Grass Script Sword Art imprinted itself in Xu Ming’s eyes.

Gradually, Xu Ming’s focus shifted—from watching Wang Xuan herself to seeing only the sword.

He was entranced.

Xu Ming had seen many sword techniques in his life, but none as unique as this!

The swordsmanship Wang Xuan displayed was incredibly resilient, as though even in the face of primordial chaos, a single blade of grass could pierce through it.

It was as if all things could become a sword.

Every sword move seemed to dissolve into nothingness, transcending conventional form.

Strangely, Xu Ming could clearly sense the presence of sword qi, but when he tried to grasp it in detail, it vanished without a trace.

Wang Xuan finally sheathed her sword and let out a soft breath.

Xu Ming’s eyes returned to normal.

Wang Xuan asked, “Did you understand what you saw?”

Xu Ming replied, “I believe I did.”

Behind her veil, Wang Xuan’s lips curved into a smile—a beauty beyond mortal comprehension, though Xu Ming couldn’t see it. “How much do you remember?”

Xu Ming tried to recall what he had just witnessed, only to be shocked that he couldn’t remember any of the moves. “Senior, I don’t remember a single bit of the sword technique,” he admitted honestly.

“Good.” Wang Xuan tossed the sword back to Xu Ming. “Wield the sword as you please. Show me.”

Xu Ming gripped the sword tightly. He truly couldn’t recall the moves, but since Wang Xuan had said so, he followed her instructions.

The moment Xu Ming swung his sword freely, a profound sense of familiarity surged through him.

As he executed the second move, the third, and the fourth, he realized with astonishment that he was recreating the Grass Script Sword Art!

Holding the Nine Heavens Thunder Sword, Xu Ming performed the technique before Wang Xuan.

Watching the endless transformations of Xu Ming’s sword moves, with sword qi and intent subtly merging with the earth itself, Wang Xuan’s eyes gleamed with surprise.

No wonder he had mastered the sword move Xu Cang taught him.

He truly was a genius.

An incense stick’s worth of time passed.

Just as Xu Ming was about to complete the full Grass Script Sword Art, he felt a sudden resonance in his heart. The sword in his hand trembled uncontrollably.

With a single slash, Xu Ming released an invisible wave of sword qi that tore through the protective array and split a distant mountain peak in two.

Before Xu Ming could even process the magnitude of what he had just done, Wang Xuan, holding a tree branch as a sword, struck at him.

Invisible swords manifested from her strike and flew toward Xu Ming.

With a slight shift of his mind, Xu Ming’s longsword began to dance.

He didn’t use any sword qi or sword intent, relying solely on the moves of the Grass Script Sword Art.

Some of the invisible swords shattered under his defense. Others were deflected. Some were even lightly tapped by Xu Ming’s blade, causing them to reverse direction and fly back toward Wang Xuan.

Within three breaths, the grass and flowers around Xu Ming lay in ruins, petals scattering in the air.

Yet Xu Ming, without using a trace of spiritual energy, had dismantled every one of Wang Xuan’s moves.

Staring at the sword in his hand, Xu Ming was stunned.

He couldn’t even comprehend how he had achieved it.

This feeling was bizarre yet exhilarating.

“This,” Wang Xuan said calmly, “is sword technique.”

Seeing the confusion on Xu Ming’s face, Wang Xuan patiently explained to him:

“The key to the Grass Script Sword Art lies in becoming one with nature.

How does one achieve this?

By forgetting oneself.

By forgetting the sword techniques.

You saw it. You forgot it. And so, you learned it.

Currently, your foundation for sword Dao lies in the Bingyang Sword Technique. Though it is called a sword technique, it is actually only a mental technique because the actual sword moves have long been lost.

That mental technique is decent. It serves as a foundation, one that every inner disciple of the Wanjian Sect must learn. You can make use of it.

For sword techniques, you now have the Grass Script Sword Art.

For sword intent, you have the strike that Xu Cang taught you.

This, as of now, is your sword Dao.

How you refine it, how you integrate and reconcile these elements, how you discard and adopt new ones, how you proceed forward—all of that will be up to you.

I can’t teach you any more beyond this.”

Xu Ming bowed deeply. “Thank you, Senior, for your teachings.”

“It’s not my teaching—it’s your fate.”

Wang Xuan turned to leave.

“All things in this world exist within the cycle of cause and effect. For every cause, there is an effect. No one owes anyone anything.

Over the next few days, Qing Wan will not be seeing you. It’s not because I forbid her, but because she will be entering seclusion.”

As Wang Xuan’s voice faded into the distance, her figure vanished from Xu Ming’s sight.

That was the last time Xu Ming saw Wang Xuan during those two days.

After that, Xu Ming’s meals were delivered by small spirit plants that toddled over to him with food.

In those two days, Xu Ming did not catch a single glimpse of Qing Wan.

On the third day, Xu Ming was meditating in the sea of flowers when a spiritual flower uprooted itself and ran toward him.

It began slapping Xu Ming’s knee with its tender leaves, shouting, “Young Master Xu! Young Master Xu! Wake up! Wake up! The Zixia Grand Ceremony is about to start! Hurry up and go join it!”

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