Lu Sheng trained under Chief Constable Zhang Xun for three full days, committing the Heart-Shattering Palm to memory with painstaking precision.
Afterward, he sought out his next mentor.
The second teacher recommended by Uncle Zhao was Du Zhen—a once-renowned expert from the former Prefect’s yamen, and a peer of Zhang Xun. His “Eighty-Four Swallows Pursuing the Wind Blade” technique boasted ninety-nine dazzling strokes, swift as lightning. But fate had dealt him a cruel hand—his tendons were severed by an unknown assailant, ending his career. Having never married and bearing no children, the quiet, withdrawn man lived alone with his fading legacy.
Lu Sheng remained with him for four days.
Though he found the famed sword art inferior to the Black Tiger Saber Technique, he knew that broadening his martial foundation would only serve him better.
He continued to press Uncle Zhao for introductions, seeking out other reclusive masters in Nine Links City, especially those of the older generation. With his father Lu Quanan’s approval—and generous funding—doors opened easily. He went on to study the Precious Eight Steps and the Double-Horned Blade from two more respected veterans.
Both techniques, however, paled beside the ferocity of the Black Tiger Saber. Lu Sheng knew that Uncle Zhao’s mastery stood among the very best in Nine Links City; few could match it.
For two relentless months, he immersed himself in training, learning every movement and rhythm his body could withstand. Alongside his practice, he consumed vast amounts of Yin- and blood-nourishing tonics to fortify his frame.
Since embarking on this martial path, his family had been spending over a thousand talents each month on rare herbs and restorative medicines—an exorbitant sum for any ordinary household. Were it not for his father’s support, even a wealthy young master could never afford such extravagance.
Time passed swiftly. Summer waned, and by the turn of September, autumn had quietly arrived.
It had been three months since Lu Sheng arrived in this world.
“Brother Sheng’s been really hardworking these days…”
Uncle Zhao stroked his moustache as his gaze fell upon Lu Sheng, who was in the middle of the courtyard, practicing the Eighty-Four Swallows Pursuing the Wind Blade with unwavering focus.
Lu Sheng had deliberately refrained from using the Modifier on this technique. For the past several weeks, he had relied solely on his own comprehension, determined to measure his true progress. The Modifier, after all, was merely an external aid. He wanted to know what results his own efforts could yield.
Fortunately, the Eighty-Four Swallows Pursuing the Wind Blade was not overly complex—its movements were simple yet fluid, perfectly suited for slow, methodical practice.
“Swoosh! Swish, swish, swish!”
Each stroke of his blade split the air with crisp clarity. Straw targets surrounding him were slashed apart in an instant, scattering fragments that drifted gently to the ground.
With a firm grip, Lu Sheng twirled the one-meter glaive in his hand and slung it across his back in a single motion. He exhaled softly. Time to call it a day.
“I started training martial arts too late. If I don’t work hard, how could I possibly catch up to others?” Lu Sheng smiled faintly. “I must thank you, Uncle Zhao, for all your help during this time.”
Uncle Zhao waved dismissively, though a trace of pride showed in his eyes.
“Brother Sheng, I know your goal is to gather martial arts manuals to strengthen your family. But the truth is, those willing to teach within Nine Links City are few. The rest won’t part with their skills so easily. What will you do next?”
Lu Sheng fell silent, letting his thoughts settle as Little Qiao stepped forward to wipe the sweat from his brow with a damp towel.
“Since Nine Links City—”
“Bad news! Bad news!!”
A servant came sprinting from afar, shouting frantically as he rushed toward the arena, his face pale as paper.
“What’s going on? Don’t make such a ruckus!”
One of the guards intercepted him, pulling him aside to question him in a low voice.
The moment the servant finished speaking, the guard’s expression darkened. Without hesitation, he turned and ran straight toward Lu Sheng and Uncle Zhao.
“Young Master! Second Miss got into a fight with someone—she’s gone missing!” the guard cried out in a panic.
“WHAT?!”
Lu Sheng froze where he stood, disbelief flashing across his face. He had expected Lu Qingqing might stir up trouble eventually, but he hadn’t thought it would happen this soon.
“Where is she? Who did she fight with?” Uncle Zhao’s voice was grave as he questioned the guard.
“On Flower Willow Street, with several guards belonging to a merchant caravan that had just entered the city.”
“Does the Old Master know?”
“I’m not sure, sir. The servant who brought the news heard it only moments ago—Second Miss’s maid came running to report it. He rushed here right after.”
These men were all orphans whom Lu Quanan had raised and trained from childhood. Their loyalty to the Lu Manor was beyond question.
Lu Sheng’s tone hardened. “Good work. Don’t inform Father just yet. I’ll go take a look first.”
Uncle Zhao frowned. “Second Miss was investigating the Xu Family’s case. How did she end up clashing with a merchant’s guards?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Lu Sheng replied calmly.
He quickly assembled ten guards from the manor and set out for Flower Willow Street.
The place was notorious—Nine Links City’s most infamous red-light district. Heaven only knew what had drawn Lu Qingqing there during her investigation.
Their horses thundered through the streets, hooves striking sparks against the stone.
When they arrived, chaos awaited them. Stalls lay overturned, goods scattered, and frightened peddlers huddled together while nearby shopkeepers tried to calm them down.
“Compensate whoever needs it, and apologize to those who were wronged. Don’t let anyone look down on the Lu Family,” Lu Sheng ordered coldly.
“Yes, Young Master!”
The ten guards scattered at once to restore order.
Meanwhile, Lu Sheng and Uncle Zhao stepped onto the sidewalk, their eyes scanning the ground for any trace of the battle that had taken place.
“Qingqing hasn’t been gone for long. Her temper’s always been fiery—if some thugs provoked her in a place like this, it’s no surprise she fought back,” Lu Sheng said as he crouched down to examine the bloodstains on the ground.
There wasn’t much of it, and he doubted it was Qingqing’s. With her skill, handling a few hired guards should have been effortless.
A dark-red smear marred the pale stone tiles. Under the harsh sunlight, it glimmered vividly, a stark reminder of the fight that had taken place.
Lu Sheng bent lower, dipped a finger into the blood, and brought it close to his nose. The faint, metallic scent made his brows knit together.
“What’s wrong? Did you find something?” Uncle Zhao approached, mimicking his motion. He rubbed the blood between his fingers, then sniffed lightly. “It’s ordinary human blood—nothing unusual.”
Lu Sheng shook his head slowly. “That’s not what concerns me. There’s too much of it here. Qingqing may have a bad temper, but she’s never the type to strike so heavily. For there to be this much blood… she must’ve been pushed far beyond reason.”
Just then, several guards who had been questioning bystanders hurried back toward them.
“Young Master, we’ve got news!” one of them reported breathlessly. “Someone saw Second Miss fighting two men with her sword, chasing them all the way out of the city! Another witness said those two weren’t merchant guards at all—they were wanted murderers!”
Lu Sheng’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I see. Let’s head to the city gates. The closest one is the West Gate—they must’ve gone that way.”
Without delay, the group mounted up and rode swiftly toward the West Gate.
After a short, hard ride, they arrived. A city guard stepped forward, recognizing one of Lu Sheng’s men.
“Second Miss Lu was seen chasing two suspects toward the direction of Black Winds Ridge,” the guard reported, offering them the crucial piece of information.
Lu Sheng gathered his men and was just stepping beyond the city gates when movement in the distance caught his eye.
A lone rider was galloping toward them—Lu Qingqing. She rode swiftly, dust swirling around her hooves, dragging behind her two men bound tightly together with coarse rope.
As soon as she spotted Lu Sheng, her face lit up with delight.
“What are you doing rushing all the way here, Big Bro? They’re just two petty thieves! Don’t tell me you have no faith in my skills?”
She had changed into a fitted outfit that gave her the air of a heroine—a longsword rested in its silver sheath, and a golden-trimmed belt hung from her waist. Her hair was tied high, lending her a spirited, commanding presence.
Lu Sheng waited by the gates until her horse came to a halt before him. Only when she swung off gracefully and landed on her feet did he finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Don’t be so reckless in the future,” he said calmly.
Though he wasn’t the original Lu Sheng, he had felt Second Mother’s genuine care during his time here. He wasn’t someone incapable of recognizing sincerity, and because of her, he felt a quiet obligation to look after Lu Qingqing as well.
“Don’t worry. Yours truly doesn’t bother with the small fry in Nine Links City,” Lu Qingqing replied nonchalantly, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve.
Lu Sheng’s gaze shifted to the two captives lying on the ground. Their faces were pale, drained of blood, their bodies limp and motionless. It was unclear whether they were still alive. Yet, oddly enough, there was a faint upward curl at the corners of their mouths—almost as though they were laughing.
Lu Sheng frowned slightly, taking silent note of the unsettling detail.
Seeing that Lu Qingqing was unharmed, he said nothing further. Perhaps he had been overly cautious.
After a few more words of admonishment, Lu Sheng and Uncle Zhao turned back toward the manor with their entourage.
Life soon returned to its familiar, steady rhythm.
Each day, Lu Sheng’s routine unfolded with relentless precision. At dawn, he practiced his saber techniques for six straight hours. After lunch, he shifted to footwork drills and the Heart-Shattering Palm. When night fell, he returned to his room to cultivate the Jade Crane Skill in solitude.
The Black Fury Skill had long been set aside.
Uncle Zhao, watching this tireless cycle repeat, had urged him to narrow his focus. “Brother Sheng, you’ll exhaust yourself spreading your strength too thin. Master one art before you chase another.”
But Lu Sheng’s resolve didn’t waver—his plans went beyond ordinary training.
After successfully recording all his martial arts techniques onto the Modifier’s selection screen, he decided it was time to advance the Jade Crane Skill once more.
The night was silent.
Lu Sheng lay on his bed, eyes half-closed, before slowly opening them to the faint silver light filtering through the paper window. The moonlight fell across the floor in a single, pale rectangle.
Outside, the soft snores of the night guard drifted through the still air. The wind stirred the trees in the courtyard, their rustling leaves whispering like distant waves.
Lu Sheng sat upright, crossing his legs calmly on the bed.
It’s about time.
He listened—no footsteps, no movement—only the night breathing quietly around him.
After cultivating for so long, my essence, Qi, and spirit are at their peak. Now… it’s time to upgrade the Jade Crane Skill.
In recent days, his sister Lu Qingqing had been making a name for herself—capturing murderers, confronting bandits, stirring up half the city with her bravado. Yet, instead of pride, a faint unease gnawed at him.
Even Zhang Xun had mentioned unsettling stories from his time as Chief Constable—bizarre, unresolved cases that still lingered in memory.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Lu Sheng steadied his breathing and called silently in his mind, Deep Blue.
Instantly, a light-blue screen shimmered into existence before his eyes.
With practiced ease, he pressed Modify, directing all his focus toward the Jade Crane Skill.
Upgrade one level!
In an instant, the skill panel leapt from Level One to Level Two, as effortlessly as water flowing downhill.
A violent wave of emptiness surged through Lu Sheng’s body, as though his very insides were being hollowed out. It felt like the aftermath of reckless indulgence, his strength drained in an instant.
His head rang with a dull hum, vision spinning and blurring at the edges. Then, that familiar heat returned—an overwhelming flush rising from within, flooding through every vein like fire beneath his skin.
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.