Jiang Ding opened his eyes.
His limbs and knees were somewhat sore, but it wasn't a major issue.
He got out of bed, dressed, picked up the practice sword beside the bed, and quietly left his home.
The dawn was cool, and at this hour, the working class was still in deep sleep; on the streets of the neighborhood, besides the retired elders exercising, there were only a few silhouettes of breakfast shop owners and sanitation workers, and the park was even more so.
He found an empty flower bed.
A bright silver sword-light flashed, creating a near-perfect circular arc centered on himself.
"Ready stance... Expose Sword Style..."
In the quiet park, Jiang Ding experienced a strange sensation in his heart.
The ready stance perhaps should not be a sword style that is particularly emphasized, but a state of being, a state of orderly relaxation when not in combat, yet able to tense up instantly when needed.
As the sword form changed, 639 muscles moved fluidly like water, shifting direction, as the power from smaller muscle groups converged into the larger ones, ending up in the arm that held the sword, suddenly increasing the speed of the sword-light.
The extreme concentration of power did not lose balance, as his left foot moved diagonally, his body like a phantom, guiding the sword to slice a falling leaf into two smooth halves.
One stroke after another, the silver sword-light appeared and disappeared.
In Jiang Ding's mind, a faint blue, transparent figure appeared, with each muscle represented by various mechanical equations of different sizes, rotating and converging at different angles, resulting in a constantly changing total numerical value, where any twist or change in direction of a single muscle could affect the final numerical value.
"Turn, combine, rush, hide..."
The silver sword-light retracted, its sharpness hidden away.
"It flows much smoother?"
Jiang Ding held the sword handle and expressed his surprise in doubt.
Although he had always been diligent, and teachers had pointed out the direction, the practice of swordsmanship had always felt like a fog he couldn't penetrate, regardless of how much he practiced, it was just a mechanical imitation of the guidance from the Array Spirit computer.
But just now, with every strike, there were flashes of inspiration, and the sword moves were extremely smooth.
As the sword was drawn, the sword-light danced, and even the sound of the sword's edge cutting through the air could be heard. A set of sword techniques had been completed.
"It's not an illusion!"
Jiang Ding took a deep breath and touched the rusty sword tip in his pocket.
Even without the real-time display of the training room, he could clearly feel that his "Eagle Taking Off Sword Technique" had improved a bit.
This was definitely a huge opportunity!
After nearly an hour of sword practice, he sheathed his sword and returned home.
The day was fully bright, the streets were bustling with people, and the entire city had come back to life.
When Jiang Ding got home, Jiang Yuan had already gotten up, yawning and washing up, her hair a messy tangle, while Lin Wanqiu was preparing breakfast.
Jiang Ding took a quick shower, changed his clothes, and sat at the dining table with his backpack ready.
"Mom, brother, where are my red and white shoes?"
Jiang Yuan, with her messy hair, ran back and forth, her slippers making tapping sounds.
Jiang Ding kept his eyes closed to recuperate and didn't respond to her.
Lin Wanqiu placed breakfast on the table, fetched a pair of shoes from Jiang Yuan's room and handed them to her, then helped sort out her hair, and said helplessly, "Why can't you learn from your brother? He gets up at 6:30 every day and has everything done."
Jiang Yuan rolled her eyes.
After breakfast, the family separated at the bus stop, each heading to their respective destinations.
Today, a different bus driver took a direct route, passing through the location of yesterday's incident.
Jiang Ding's pupils constricted.
A seven-story building had been diagonally sliced in half, one side had collapsed to the ground, the break as smooth as a mirror.
Near the broken building were several meters-wide craters in a radial pattern, with the base completely vitrified, and there were patches of faint, fresh red here and there.
It looked as if flesh had been flattened by a weight of thousands of tons, even after several clean-up attempts, the traces were still visible.
"Foundation-building cultivators, ah..."
The passengers on the bus chattered among themselves, as Lanying Planet didn't have a division between mortals and cultivators, and much information was open to the public.
"Marks seem similar to the Xuanwu tiangong cultivators from the Outer Realm, who have always been hostile to the Xianmen Sect..."
"Just bad luck for those people..."
Jiang Ding gripped the sword handle tighter but didn't join their conversation.
Upon reaching the classroom, he placed the backpack containing the longsword and handgun into a locker with a passcode—students were not allowed to carry weapons inside the school.
Li Junhao had already arrived, engrossed in solving test questions, his eyes fixed on the paper, not sparing a glance to the side.
"The atmosphere in the class seems a bit somber?"
Jiang Ding asked softly, without giving it much thought, as he arranged his books.
He considered himself diligent, spending all time outside of necessary sleep and chores practicing swordsmanship and pondering over related knowledge. But even so, he felt he couldn't quite match his classmate, who he suspected might be getting less than four hours of sleep each day.
"A student from the next class... passed away yesterday," Li Junhao sighed, without taking his eyes or hands off his test papers. "We mortals are too weak compared to cultivators."
Jiang Ding was silent.
The morning consisted of two periods of Chinese and mathematics, covering runes and the principles of Cultivation Methods, Formation Method structures, and the natural runes found within the earth and sky.
Jiang Ding was pleasantly surprised to find that he could now understand parts of the classes that had previously seemed like gibberish, not requiring forceful concentration to stay focused, but naturally immersing himself in the teacher's lectures.
He ate lunch in the school cafeteria, practiced his sword for a while, and then took an hour's nap—Jiang Ding made sure to maintain sufficient sleep every day.