From the fake emperor to the concubine

“No,” Zheng Yi shook his head. “Your stance is wrong, and your force is incorrect. Sword striking requires the coordination of the whole body's strength, not just simply swinging your arm.”

He walked behind Lin Qing, took his arm, and adjusted his posture little by little: "Look, your feet must be firm, your waist must be strong, your shoulders must be relaxed, and your wrists must be flexible. The power originates from your feet, passes through your waist, is transmitted to your arms, and finally converges on the blade. Only then will your sword strikes have power."

Under Zheng Yi's guidance, Lin Qing practiced sword fighting again. This time, it was noticeably better than before. Although he was still a bit rusty, at least he had a semblance of skill.

"Good, keep practicing," Zheng Yi encouraged. "Practice each movement a thousand times until it becomes muscle memory, so you can perform the movements flawlessly without thinking."

"A thousand times?" Lin Qing swallowed.

"Too many?" Zheng Yi laughed. "A thousand repetitions are just the beginning. True sword masters practice each move tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of times. Only in this way can one achieve fluidity and complete control in actual combat."

Lin Qing gritted his teeth: "Disciple understands!"

So he began the tedious practice. He practiced sword strikes again and again, each time following Zheng Yi's instructions and trying his best to achieve the correct form.

At first, his movements were stiff. But as he practiced more, his movements gradually became smoother. Ten times, a hundred times, five hundred times, Lin Qing's forehead began to sweat, and his arms began to ache. But he gritted his teeth and persevered, never letting up for a moment.

Zheng Yi watched quietly from the side, occasionally pointing out Lin Qing's mistakes and urging him to correct them in time.

By the time Lin Qing had practiced eight hundred times, his arms were trembling slightly, and his clothes were soaked with sweat. But he persisted, practicing his sword strikes again and again.

"Stop." Zheng Yi suddenly spoke.

Lin Qing stopped what he was doing and gasped for breath.

"Not bad." Zheng Yi nodded in satisfaction. "Being able to persevere this far shows that you not only have talent, but also perseverance. Many people give up halfway through sword practice because it's too tedious and too hard. But you've persisted."

He took out a bottle of pills from his storage bag and handed it to Lin Qing: "These are pills to restore your strength. Take one. Then rest for an hour and continue practicing. Remember, there are no shortcuts in swordsmanship; only diligent practice day after day."

"Yes, Master." Lin Qing accepted the pill and said solemnly, "This disciple is not afraid of hardship."

Zheng Yi smiled with satisfaction: "Very good. With this determination, you're bound to achieve great things in the future."

For the next few days, Lin Qing practiced swordsmanship at the training ground every day. From dawn to dusk, except for meals and short breaks, he devoted all his time to practice.

He practiced each of the eight basic sword techniques thousands of times. Now, he can perform the movements flawlessly without needing to think. The sword in his hand seems to come alive, becoming an extension of his arm.

That day, as Lin Qing practiced again, Zheng Yi suddenly said, "That's enough. You've mastered the basic sword techniques quite well. Now, I'm going to teach you a real sword technique."

Lin Qing's eyes lit up: "What sword technique?"

"The Thirty-Six Basic Sword Techniques," Zheng Yi said. "This is an introductory-level sword technique, refined from the essence of various sword styles. Although its grade isn't high, its strength lies in its solidity and stability, without any unnecessary flourishes. It's the best choice for beginners."

He began to demonstrate the swordsmanship. His longsword flashed in his hands, the thirty-six moves flowing smoothly and seamlessly. Each move was concise and swift, without any superfluous actions, yet its power was not to be underestimated.

Lin Qing watched intently. Although he didn't quite understand the intricacies of the sword technique, he could sense its extraordinary nature.

"Did you see it clearly?" Zheng Yi asked, sheathing his sword.

Lin Qing hesitated for a moment: "Disciple... seems to have remembered it, but also seems not to have remembered it completely."

“That’s normal,” Zheng Yi laughed. “I’ll demonstrate it again, and you can watch carefully.”

He demonstrated it again, this time at a much slower pace, so that Lin Qing could see every detail clearly.

Lin Qing observed intently, memorizing every move and stance.

“Now you try it,” Zheng Yi said.

Lin Qing took a deep breath and began practicing the sword technique. His first attempt was clumsy and disjointed. The second attempt was slightly better, but still contained many errors. The third attempt…
And so, Lin Qing practiced again and again. Zheng Yi patiently guided him and corrected his mistakes.

half a month later.

Lin Qing is now able to perform the "Thirty-Six Basic Sword Techniques" relatively smoothly. Although he cannot be considered an expert yet, he has at least entered the basics.

That day, Zheng Yi said to Lin Qing, "You've made rapid progress; you've mastered the basic swordsmanship quite well. Now, I'm going to test your combat skills."

"Real combat?" Lin Qing was taken aback.

“Not bad.” Zheng Yi also drew a longsword and said calmly, “Let’s spar using pure swordsmanship. I won’t use any spiritual power or supernatural abilities, just the most basic swordsmanship. Attack me with all your might and see if you can even touch my clothes.”

Lin Qing was a little nervous: "Master, this...this isn't appropriate, is it? How could this disciple dare to lay a hand on Master?"

"Don't feel guilty," Zheng Yi said. "This sparring is just to test your learning progress and to help you understand how big the gap is between you and a true master. Come on, attack with all your might."

Seeing his master's resolute attitude, Lin Qing had no choice but to nod: "Then this disciple will offend you."

He took a deep breath, gripped his longsword, and assumed a starting stance. Although he had only studied swordsmanship for half a month, he was still quite confident in himself. After all, he had practiced for over ten hours almost every day for the past two weeks, and he could already execute the "Thirty-Six Basic Sword Techniques" quite fluently.

"Come on," Zheng Yi said calmly, standing ramrod straight, his long sword pointing diagonally at the ground. He appeared flawless, yet it seemed as if he was vulnerable at every turn.

Lin Qing stared at Zheng Yi, searching for an opportunity to attack. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as he noticed an opening on Zheng Yi's right side. Without hesitation, he stomped his foot and shot out like an arrow, his longsword aimed straight for Zheng Yi's right ribs.

This thrust was the seventh move in the "Thirty-Six Basic Sword Techniques," the "Wind Chasing Thrust," which was extremely fast. Lin Qing had already demonstrated his highest level of skill with this move.

But just as the sword tip was about to touch Zheng Yi, Zheng Yi moved.

He slightly shifted his body, effortlessly dodging Lin Qing's thrust. Lin Qing's sword grazed past him, not even touching the hem of his clothes. "Again," Zheng Yi said calmly.

Lin Qing refused to believe it and immediately changed his tactics. He unleashed the twelfth move, "Sweeping Through a Thousand Armies," sweeping his longsword horizontally in an attempt to force Zheng Yi back.

But Zheng Yi simply took a step back, completely avoiding the sword's edge. Moreover, he judged the distance of his retreat perfectly, placing it just out of Lin Qing's reach.

Lin Qing's heart sank. His master's strength was far greater than he had imagined. But he did not give up and continued his attack.

Lin Qing unleashed a variety of moves from the "Thirty-Six Basic Sword Techniques," slashing, chopping, thrusting, and slicing, each move delivered with full force. On the training ground, sword light flashed as a young man launched a frenzied attack, while a middle-aged man strolled leisurely, easily dodging all the attacks.

Lin Qing grew increasingly anxious as he fought. He had used every move he had learned, and even tried some improvisational variations, but no matter what, his sword just couldn't touch Zheng Yi.

What shocked him even more was that Zheng Yi had only moved his feet within a three-foot radius the entire time. He stood within that small circle and, through extremely minor adjustments to his body, avoided all of Lin Qing's attacks.

“That’s enough,” Zheng Yi suddenly said.

Lin Qing stopped, panting heavily, his face flushed. He had used all his strength in that attack, but it had all come to nothing. His sword hadn't even touched the hem of his master's clothes, let alone touched them.

"Master, this disciple is too weak." Lin Qing lowered his head, somewhat dejected.

“No,” Zheng Yi shook his head. “You’re not weak. For someone who has only studied swordsmanship for half a month, your performance is already outstanding.”

"But this disciple can't even touch Master's clothes." Lin Qing was even more frustrated.

Zheng Yi laughed: "Do you know how many years I've cultivated? Over a hundred years. And you've only been learning for half a month. You think you can touch the edge of my hundred years of cultivation with just half a month? Don't you think that's wishful thinking?"

Lin Qing was taken aback, then understood. Right, his master was a powerful expert at the Integration Realm; he had only been learning swordsmanship for half a month, how could he possibly encounter him?
"I'm letting you attack me not to undermine your confidence," Zheng Yi said, "but to teach you a few lessons."

He held up one finger: "First, the skill of swordsmanship doesn't lie in how flashy the moves are, but in the mastery of timing and distance. Every attack you made just now was off-time and off-distance. Either you struck too early or too late; either you were too far away or too close."

Lin Qing nodded thoughtfully.

Zheng Yi raised his second finger: "Secondly, swordsmanship isn't just about attacking; defense and evasion are equally important. Just now, you were only focused on offense, completely neglecting defense. If I had counterattacked, you would have been defeated countless times by now."

Lin Qing blushed. Indeed, he had only focused on attacking and hadn't thought about defense at all.

“Third, and most importantly,” Zheng Yi held up his third finger, “the essence of swordsmanship is the ultimate control over the body. Look at me dodging your attack just now; my feet only moved three feet. That’s precise control of the body. Every movement, every inch of distance, is just right.”

He paused, then continued, "And you, although your techniques are quite proficient, your body control is still far from adequate. Every attack you launch uses too much unnecessary force and makes too many unnecessary movements. These superfluous actions not only waste energy but also slow down your attacks, making them easier to predict."

Lin Qing listened attentively, keeping every word of her master in mind.

“Therefore,” Zheng Yi said, “in your upcoming training, you must focus on controlling your body. Every swing of the sword must be precise, with not a bit more or less force. Every movement must be as simple as possible, eliminating all unnecessary parts.”

He added, "Furthermore, you must learn to observe your opponent. Sword duels are not just a contest of techniques, but also a battle of wits. You must learn to judge your opponent's next move from their eyes, breathing, and posture. Only by knowing yourself and your enemy can you win every battle."

Lin Qing bowed respectfully: "This disciple has learned much."

Zheng Yi nodded: "Alright, that concludes today's sparring. Go back and get some rest, and continue practicing tomorrow. Remember, the path of swordsmanship is long, so don't be impatient. Take it one step at a time, be steady and methodical, and you'll go further."

"Yes, Master."

After Lin Qing left, Zheng Yi stood on the training ground, watching his retreating figure with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.

This apprentice is truly remarkable. Not only is he exceptionally talented and quick to learn, but more importantly, he is incredibly hardworking. Given time, he will undoubtedly achieve great things.

Just then, Zheng Yunfei walked over. He had just watched Lin Qing and Zheng Yi's sparring match from a distance and was quite impressed.

"Patriarch, Lin Qing's talent is truly astonishing," Zheng Yunfei exclaimed. "He's only been learning swordsmanship for half a month, yet he can already execute it so smoothly. When I was learning swordsmanship, it took me three months to reach his current level."

Zheng Yi smiled and said, "Talent is certainly important, but hard work is even more important. Lin Qing has practiced swordsmanship for over ten hours every day for the past two weeks without ever slacking off. This perseverance is the real reason for his rapid progress."

Zheng Yunfei nodded: "The patriarch is right. I need to work even harder."

"Your progress is also very rapid," Zheng Yi said. "Have you been spending a lot of time studying the Taixu Divine Sword lately?"

“Yes,” Zheng Yunfei said, “I can feel the divine sword’s repulsion towards me is decreasing. Although I still can’t draw it, at least I can touch the hilt without being knocked away.”

"Good," Zheng Yi encouraged, "Keep trying. Maybe one day you'll be able to pull out the divine sword."

A determined look flashed in Zheng Yunfei's eyes: "This disciple will definitely work hard!"

As night falls, Mount Taixu is brightly lit.

Lin Qing's residence was a simple cave dwelling. Although it was not as luxurious as the residences of the core disciples, it was much better than his home for him.

He sat cross-legged on the bed, reflecting on his sparring session with his master that day. Although he lost decisively, he was not discouraged; instead, he became even more aware of his shortcomings and the direction he needed to work towards.

"Master said I must learn to precisely control my body, eliminating all unnecessary movements," Lin Qing murmured to himself. "I must also learn to observe my opponent, judging their next move from the details."

He closed his eyes, replaying the sparring session from earlier that day in his mind. He realized that every dodge his master made, seemingly casual, was actually the result of meticulous calculation. And every attack he made, in his master's eyes, was probably full of flaws.

"The gap is too big," Lin Qing sighed. "But one day, I will catch up with my master."

He clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with fighting spirit. (End of Chapter)