Chapter 144 (1): Fang Che's Bliss

Mo Ganyun shook his head as he replied, "I can only take off the headband after I've beaten him in a fight! Otherwise, it won't feel right. I have to beat him, then take off the headband and tie it around his head!"

"I'm itching to beat up Boss Fang as well!" Qiu Yunshang grinned.

"He probably still thinks he can beat us up whenever he wants!" Yu Zhongge chuckled. "I can't wait to see the look on his face when he realizes we've left him in the dust!"

"I think you might be celebrating too soon," Jing Shuanggao said in a cautious manner. "I'm sure Boss Fang has also been making very fast progress."

"Even so, there's no way he could possibly keep up with our rate of progress!" Yu Zhongge said in a triumphant manner. "We're practically flying right now!"

Mo Ganyun suddenly began chortling with glee as he imagined himself paying Fang Che back for all of the past beatings.

"We should be able to reach the Emperor in a few days," Qiu Yunshang said. "We need to think of a way to console Boss Fang so he doesn't get too depressed. I heard that they're currently holding selection trials to select representatives for some friendly matches against the Church of the Self-Righteous. It's a real shame that we've been prohibited from participation. Otherwise, I'm sure we'd easily secure the top four spots in the King tier!"

"I asked some of the higher-ups if we can go and spectate the matches, and my request has been approved," Yu Zhongge said. "However, we have to disguise ourselves and mask our skin tones."

"Finally, we can go somewhere!" Mo Ganyun sighed. "The past few months in here have felt like a stint in prison!"

"People in prison have it easy compared with us!" Qiu Yunshang scoffed. "I've never trained this hard in my life!"

"I wonder how Ding Jieran is doing," Jing Shuanggao mused.

"Me too," Yu Zhongge sighed. "His foundation is a little lacking, and he didn't get a share of the Amethyst Soul. He should be receiving some cultivation resources from Master Bing, but even then, he's most likely going to be the one progressing the slowest out of all of us."

"That's enough chit-chat, let's get back to training."

***

At Bing Qianshan's residence, Ding Jieran was practicing his sword techniques as diligently as ever.

There was a look of single-minded focus on his face, and in this moment, his sword was his everything.

He sprang up into the air, his sword resembling an extension of his body as he lashed out at a giant rock in the courtyard.

It was a rock taken from Rocky Mountain, and Bing Qianshan had transported it here for Ding Jieran to use as a target to test out his sword techniques.

The tip of the sword was only able to pierce about an inch into the rock, but Ding Jieran continued to force it forward with all his might.

The blade of the sword instantly shattered into pieces, while Ding Jieran continued to plunge forward, only stopping once his sword-wielding hand had slammed into the rock.

A dull thump rang out his fist made contact with the rugged rock, and he dropped back down to the ground.

The skin and flesh of his fist had been peeled back to reveal the bone underneath, but he paid no heed to the condition of his hand as he murmured to himself, "It's still not good enough."

He quickly applied some medicinal powder to his injury, then picked out another sword before resuming his training.

Ever since arriving at Bing Qianshan's residence, he hadn't set foot outside even once, not even when Bing Qianshan encouraged him to take a break and go on a stroll.

Even Bing Qianshan himself was bewildered by Ding Jieran's obsessive intensity.

His clansmen had visited him once to deliver him some resources, but he didn't even meet with them. The bag was set down outside the entrance of the residence, and it was only brought in by the guards the next day, but he didn't even bother to open the bag before tossing out the entire thing.

He was becoming more and more quite reclusive, but this was the environment in which he thrived the most.

The only things in his room were a table, a bed, and a single sword, the one given to him by Fang Che.

It was only when gazing upon this sword that a hint of warmth would surface in his cold and focused eyes, and it was his prized treasure.

Every single night, he nourished it with his own blood before going to sleep with it in his arms, and he was constantly trying to improve the sword's compatibility with himself.

He was only a seventh-rank Warlord at the moment, but his combat prowess far exceeded his cultivation base. However, he chose not to take part in the Warlord tier selection trials for the upcoming friendly matches.

My sword is not used to make friends, certainly not with demonic church members!

Right at this moment, Bing Qianshan stepped out into the courtyard.

"Master," Ding Jieran greeted in a clipped tone, as concise as ever.

Bing Qianshan was becoming fonder and fonder of Ding Jieran, and he had already officially accepted the latter as his disiciple.

As a child, Bing Qianshan had heard from his seniors on countless occasions that a swordsman should have be fixated solely on their sword and have eyes for nothing else.

They should be cold as ice, clear as water, and pure as snow.

They should be cold, unapproachable, and silent, preferring to let their sword do the talking.

Bing Qianshan really wanted to be this type of person because he was of the opinion that this was the ideal personality for the perfect swordsman, so he was constantly trying to make himself appear cold and unapproachable like his image of what a swordsman should be.

However, it was utterly exhausting! He enjoyed gossiping, making jokes, and playing pranks, and it killed him to have to constantly pretend to be someone that he wasn't.

In his eyes, Ding Jieran had the perfect personality for a swordsman.

The only problem was that he was so cold and reclusive that he even avoided speaking to his master as much as possible.

Bing Qianshan had once tried not speaking to Ding Jieran for an entire day.

That suited Ding Jieran just fine, but Bing Qianshan was almost driven mad!

Thus, he established a set of rules:

1. When I talk to you, you have to answer.

2. When I'm at home, you have to call me "master" at least thrice every day.

3. You have to at least speak three sentences to me each day!

Bing Qianshan was very pleased with these rules, but Ding Jieran was placed at a complete loss.

What am I meant to say?

In the end, he settled on a daily routine.

Morning: "Have you had breakfast yet, Master?"

Noon: "Have you had lunch yet, Master?"

Night: "Have you had dinner yet, Master?"

After completing this chore, Ding Jieran would immediately return to his sword training, leaving Bing Qianshan in a state of fury and despair.

Is this what the perfect swordsman is meant to be like? What a terrible way to live!

However, his gripes against Ding Jieran didn't mean that he didn't like him. Instead, he truly appreciated just how devoted Ding Jieran was to the sword.

The only person that Ding Jieran would ever speak about was Fang Che, and as a result, Bing Qianshan had also taken an interest in Fang Che.

The sword that Fang Che had given to him was cherished like a priceless treasure, while objectively superior swords given to him by Bing Qianshan were cast aside like pieces of trash.

Clearly, Fang Che was someone who meant a great deal to him.

Upon returning home, Bing Qianshan immediately stepped out into the courtyard where Ding Jieran trained.

There was no need to go anywhere else because Ding Jieran spent almost all of his time here.

In fact, if humans didn't have to eat, drink, or sleep, then Bing Qianshan had no doubt at all that Ding Jieran would become a permanent fixture in the courtyard.

"Do you wanna go watch the upcoming friendly matches?" Bing Qianshan asked in a spirited manner.

"No."

"Watching battles is a good form of training. You can identify your own weaknesses in others and see how they overcome those weaknesses. Plus, it'll be really fun! There's going to be a lot of beauties in attendance."

Ding Jieran shook his head, not even bothering to speak this time.

His thoughts were conveyed through his attitude: Are you done? I need to get back to my training.

"You need to learn to become more sociable," Bing Qianshan sighed. "Otherwise, if you find a wife someday, she's going to be driven to suicide by your passive aggression!"

Once again, Ding Jieran offered no response, and judging from the distant look in his eyes, his mind had clearly already wandered back to his sword techniques.

Bing Qianshan decided that it was time to use his trump card.

"Fang Che will be fighting."

Sure enough, that was enough to instantly catch Ding Jieran's interest.

"Really? Boss Fang will also be there?"

"You spoke more words to me just now than you did in the past three days combined!" Bing Qianshan grumbled.

Ding Jieran lowered his head in silence.

"I ran into him just now at the Guardian headquarters. He's there to take part in the selection trials, and barring any mishaps, he should be able to secure a spot."

"OK," Ding Jieran said.

𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

OK? What's that supposed to mean?