Chapter 12 — Flying Knife Training
Outer mountain was restless.
People walked fast. They talked less. Heads down, eyes sharp.
The news had spread everywhere:
A Qi Condensation 5th-stage cultivator had died in the outer region.
Killed by bandits.
Not deep in forest — near the river trail.
Broad daylight.
Two 3rd-stage and one 4th-stage bandit surrounded him and finished him.
No mercy.
No fear.
Nobody expected it.
Everyone looked worried.
Even the cheap farmers sharpening hoes were looking around more than digging soil.
Long Tan heard the whispers while carrying water.
> If a 5th stage died, then anyone can die. I need more strength.
He entered his hut. Su Lan was grinding a small herb into paste.
She glanced at him.
"You heard it?"
"Yes."
She didn't panic, cry or complain. She simply nodded once.
"This place is getting worse."
"That's why I need a long-range skill," Long Tan said. "Saber alone isn't enough."
"Go," she said. "Come back safe."
No long talk.
Both understood.
---
Old Lu's Shop
Old Lu's shop smelled like powdered grass and old smoke.
Herbs hung from strings.
Old jars stacked like uneven bricks.
A few cracked beast bones lay near the corner.
Long Tan entered. Old Lu was tying dried roots with thin thread.
"What now?" Old Lu asked.
"Long-range technique," Long Tan said. "I need one."
Old Lu scratched his chin.
"How many stones you got?"
"Nine."
Old Lu clicked his tongue.
"With nine stones, you buy nothing useful."
Before Long Tan replied, two young men entered.
They pretended to inspect jars.
But they kept glancing at him.
Their belts had cheap blades.
Their eyes had hunger.
They watched Long Tan like wolves watching a thin goat.
Old Lu saw them.
His expression didn't change much, but his voice did.
"Hey boy," Old Lu said loudly, "you still owe me spirit stones, remember?"
He made it sound like Long Tan was poor.
The two thieves blinked. Their interest faded immediately.
They whispered, then left the shop.
Only when they walked far did Old Lu lower his voice.
"Outer mountain is boiling. Everyone going crazy."
Long Tan didn't react emotionally. He simply said:
"I need the spell."
Old Lu stared at him. Then Long Tan released a tiny pulse of Qi — barely a breath.
4th-stage aura.
Old Lu raised his eyebrows.
"So it's true. You broke through."
"Quiet," Long Tan said. "I don't want trouble."
Old Lu grunted. "You're not stupid. Good."
He slowly pulled out a wrapped scroll from a wooden box.
Flying Knife Art
"Cost is twenty stones. You have nine. Pay eleven later. Two months. No interest."
Long Tan nodded. "Agreed."
Old Lu then took a rusty throwing knife from a drawer.
"Use this first. Don't waste good steel until you learn not to drop it on your foot."
Long Tan took it.
Old Lu also leaned forward, voice low:
"Hide your wife when you go out. Bandits don't just want stones now."
Long Tan's eyes chilled a little. "I know."
"Good. Leave before someone else walks in."
Long Tan bowed slightly.
Then left.
---
Home
Su Lan was washing rice. Water was cloudy with starch.
Long Tan placed the scroll on the table.
"How many stones left?" she asked.
"None."
She paused.
Then nodded.
"No choice. If we stay weak, we die anyway."
He nodded back.
"We go hunt together next time," she said. "I need real experience too."
"Yes."
Simple. Logical. No fear talking.
They ate plain rice with radish soup.
Quiet meal, but not sad — just normal for their life.
---
Training Begins
Night came. Cold wind slipped through gaps in wooden walls.
Long Tan sat on the floor. Su Lan mended torn cloth quietly beside him.
He placed the rusty knife on his palm.
He focused Qi into the blade.
The knife trembled.
Lifted a little —
Dropped.
He picked it again.
No expression change.
Qi flow.
Lift.
Drop.
He didn't curse.
Didn't grunt.
Just continued.
Su Lan glanced at him.
"You'll improve."
"Mm."
He tried throwing next.
Qi in blade.
Flick wrist—
Knife flew maybe three steps and fell flat.
Weak. Slow.
Again.
Again.
His finger got a small cut from the handle edge.
Blood appeared.
He wiped it with his sleeve and kept training.
No drama.
Just work.
> No talent means more practice.
Outside, a man shouted drunk.
Someone else cursed loudly.
Dog barked twice.
Outer ring was changing.
More aggressive each day.
Inside the hut, knife rose and fell again and again.
Su Lan tied her hair and stood.
"I'll practice saber forms."
She stepped outside the door and moved slowly, repeating basic cuts and stances.
Not perfect, but focused.
> If I stay weak, I will only drag him down.
I need strength too.
Both trained quietly.
Two weak people trying not to stay weak.
Knife shake.
Knife fall.
Pick up.
Repeat.
> Slow is fine. But don't stop.
Hours passed.
Lamp flame grew smaller.
Finally, Long Tan placed the knife down.
His arm felt heavy, shoulder tired.
"Enough," Su Lan said from the doorway. "Rest."
He nodded and stood.
Muscles sore, but his eyes calm.
Tomorrow, he would try again.
Tomorrow, knife would rise a little higher.
That was enough for now.
---
End of Chapter 12