Little Yueqiu's speed at learning the sword was even faster than Pei Yuhang remembered Qing Yueqiu's being in her childhood. Her bright, almond-shaped eyes sparkled with astonishing comprehension; she grasped any basic Sword Technique the moment it was shown to her.
Whenever Pei Yuhang finished demonstrating a move, Little Yueqiu would immediately replicate it without a single flaw.
He could clearly sense that with every swing of the sword, Little Yueqiu's entire demeanor underwent a subtle change.
At first, she still had a child's naivety, but gradually, her straightened spine and the way she held her chin slightly raised while holding the sword began to overlap with his memory of that great disciple who was as cold as frost.
In just two short hours, she had learned all the basic movements of swordsmanship.
Or rather, this wasn't learning at all.
It was simply Little Yueqiu rediscovering the power that had belonged to her all along.
"Master, is this right?"
