The Canghua Divine Wood Sword, entirely green and anciently simple, seemed to come alive in his hand. The intertwining lightning patterns and wood grain within the sword resonated faintly, emitting a restrained yet palpitating spirituality.
Twenty years.
For the entire span of twenty years, except for necessary rest and occasional intimacy with Duan Shuang, he had almost entirely immersed his mind and soul into this inch-sized Sword Domain.
He abandoned all the flashy and complex notions, returning to the essence of the sword, seeking the cohesion and perfection of the 'force' within the most basic moves.
Unsure of how much time had passed, Xu Ping's movements gradually slowed down and finally froze in a starting stance, with both hands holding the sword, the tip slanting forward.
His eyes slightly closed, his breath as tranquil as water, as if merged with the entire chamber, the sword in his hand, and the breath of this heaven and earth.
In the next moment—
Buzz!
