The morning fog had barely lifted when the whispers began traveling faster than the wind across the 9 provinces. By noon, merchants in the Eastern Market, wandering cultivators along the River of Mist, and even reclusive scholars atop the Cloud-Spine Mountains were murmuring the same incredulous words:
A broom… with sword aura?
Shen Liang, perched on the railing of the Sword Courtyard with his broom lazily balanced on one shoulder, sipped tea and hummed a tune that sounded suspiciously like Sweep, Sweep, Sweep Your Qi.
Zhao Fei, carrying a stack of scrolls that trembled in her hands, approached nervously. Master… the rumors… they've reached the Imperial Sword Academy. They're… furious.
Shen Liang's eyes twinkled. Furious? Good! Anger is just admiration dressed in red robes. Now… tell me, which part bothers them most, the broom… or the rhythm?
Zhao Fei blinked. …Both?
Shen Liang chuckled, flipping the broom like a fan. Excellent. Confusion is a hallmark of genius. The bigger they frown, the sharper their envy.
At that moment, Sect Master Liang Feng appeared, robe pristine and expression tighter than a freshly forged sword.
Shen Liang, he said, voice even but carrying a hint of worry, word has reached the Imperial Court. The Emperor himself… might hear of your methods. If you sweep too hard, dust reaches his eyes.
Shen Liang grinned and leaned back, broom extended casually. Dust reaching the Emperor's eyes? Perfect. Nothing humbles a ruler faster than a cloud of golden brilliance.
Liang Feng pinched the bridge of his nose. You… are impossible.
Shen Liang laughed, spinning the broom and catching it on his palm. Impossible? No, Sect Master. I prefer… highly unconventional. Besides, if fame didn't cause a little panic, it would be boring.
Meanwhile, across the provinces, news had reached the Imperial Sword Academy. The headmaster, a stern man whose sword hairpin gleamed like frozen lightning, banged his staff against the floor.
Clowns! Rural clowns calling themselves a sect! Brooms over blades? Arcane ridicule! I demand a formal inquiry!
The younger sword students shuffled nervously, whispering about dusty technique and the broom menace, while one brave soul muttered, But… their arcs… the qi… It's… kind of impressive.
Back at the Falling Sword Sect, Shen Liang overheard a disciple reading a letter aloud.
Imperial Sword Academy: Your rural jesters are causing confusion among cultivators. Cease broom activity immediately or face inspection.
Shen Liang leaned over, tapped the letter with his broom, and grinned. Ah… an inspection. Finally! I was worried the Empire might never notice our artistic brilliance.
Zhao Fei groaned. Master… they're serious. This could be… dangerous.
Dangerous? Maybe. Entertaining? Absolutely! Shen Liang replied, twirling the broom in a lazy spiral. Besides, I have a plan.
Liang Feng's sharp gaze met Shen Liang's, equal parts exasperation and intrigue. A plan? What… mischief are you plotting this time?
Shen Liang winked, brushing a stray leaf from his robe. Oh, nothing drastic. Just a subtle display… a demonstration of broom finesse the Empire won't forget. Think… fireworks made of dust and sword aura.
Zhao Fei's jaw dropped. Fire… made of… dust?!
Exactly! Shen Liang said, bowing theatrically. The essence of the Falling Sword Sect: humble materials, limitless imagination, and just enough chaos to keep everyone… entertained.
Elder Su Qinglan appeared beside Liang Feng, arms folded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. If he keeps this up, the Empire will arrive before the first blade is drawn.
Liang Feng exhaled. Or before the broom is finished sweeping.
Shen Liang twirled the broom once more, letting golden arcs of sword qi shimmer in the courtyard sunlight. Then let them come. Dust in their eyes, awe in their hearts, and laughter in the corridors. After all… who can resist a clever janitor?
The disciples giggled. Even Elder Yuan, hands still blackened from forging, muttered, That boy… that boy might just sweep the empire itself if we're not careful.
Far beyond the mountains, imperial observers paused mid-step, whispers carrying across provinces:
The Falling Sword Sect… they say… they fight with brooms. With… sword aura.
And in that moment, Shen Liang lifted his broom high, letting a single golden arc slice through the morning mist like a ribbon of sunlight.
Attention, Empire! he shouted cheerfully, We are… the Falling Sword Sect! Sweepers of dust, cultivators of spirit, and masters of subtle chaos! Come… witness!
Somewhere in the capital, a minister spilled his tea. Somewhere else, a scholar choked on his quill. And somewhere in the heart of Shen Liang, Sword Soul Ling Xiao hummed approvingly.
Finally… some fun, it whispered.
[Hidden Quest Progress: Rebuild the Falling Sword Sect – Stage 3: Empire Attention Secured 5/10]
[Sect Morale +12% | Outer Sect Reputation +15% | Disciples Inspired +8%]
[Skill Progress: Broom Sword Aura Lv. Heaven-Rank – Incomplete → Observable Mastery]
[Hidden Class: Sword Laborer of Heaven – Awakening 99% → 100%]
[XP +560 | Foundation Realm – Mid Stage (Solid)]
Shen Liang set the broom down gently, took a long sip of tea, and whispered to Zhao Fei:
Now… the Empire knows we exist. Let's see if they can handle a little sweeping humor before judgment comes knocking.
Zhao Fei muttered, half in awe, half in despair, Master… sometimes I wonder if your genius is terrifying… or just crazy.
Shen Liang grinned, spinning the broom lazily. Ah… my dear Zhao Fei, the line between genius and chaos is usually swept away by those who try too hard to be serious.
And so, the whispers of the empire began some mocking, some curious, and all destined to reach the ears of those who would test the Falling Sword Sect…