The golden starlight dissolved back into the calm morning air of the bamboo grove.
The murmuring mountain brook chuckled softly over its river pebbles. The Feathery emerald bamboo leaves rustled in the cool breeze. The scent of wild jasmine drifted across the clearing. Gu Qingfeng stood barefoot upon the moss, the uncut green bamboo twig resting loosely against his shoulder.
He looked at the three young fighters, his crooked smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Your hearts are clean, little ones,” Gu Qingfeng said softly. He took a leisurely sip from his chipped wine bowl. “You’ve proven that you don’t hold weapons to slaughter the innocent or strut like peacocks in mortal banquet halls. But a pure heart without proper form is just good intentions waiting to get bruised. Come. Strike at this old drunkard with everything you’ve learned since you left your mothers’ cradles.”
Yan Zixuan and Han Xue exchanged a single, decisive glance.
There was no pause. They had climbed ninety-eight floors together. They had faced titan hammers, faster-than-sound hurricanes, and psychic horrors. They knew each other’s rhythms better than their own heartbeats.
“Vanguard, engage!” Yan Zixuan commanded.
In an instant, the peaceful clearing erupted into explosive motion.
