I was a mineral prospector in Chengdu, who transmigrated into the body of a mortal sword immortal.

A milky-white light slowly swirled across the plaza, illuminating the High Priest's dark robes and Li Bai's weary yet upright figure. The soft hum of spiritual energy in the air had not yet completely subsided. The High Priest took another step forward, almost stepping into the edge of the glowing network. She reached out, not pointing at Li Bai, but lightly brushing against a wisp of flowing light in the air. The wisp of light lingered around her fingertip for a moment before dissipating. "Wisdom has been tested; perseverance remains to be seen." She withdrew her hand, her gaze returning to Li Bai, a flash of sword light seemingly appearing deep within her silver-gray pupils. "Follow me. The final test, body tempering. And also... the time to see the true strength."

As soon as she finished speaking, without any visible movement, the light in the plaza suddenly contracted inward, and the light from the central crystal transformed into a pillar of light that enveloped the two of them. Li Bai's vision was once again filled with pure light, with only the High Priest's final, calm yet undeniable words echoing in his ears, and the sharp aura that rapidly approached him, seemingly capable of slicing through his soul, perceptible to his body.

As the beam of light dissipated, Li Bai's feet suddenly lost their footing, landing on a solid yet unusually rough ground.

He staggered, barely managing to steady himself, and was immediately captivated by the scene before him and the sensations emanating from his body.

This is the top of a mountain.

The mountain's shape is extremely peculiar; it is not a rounded hill, but rather resembles a giant sword thrust upwards, straight, steep, and sharply angled. The summit platform is small, only about ten zhang (approximately 33 meters) square. The ground is gray-black rock, as if repeatedly cleaved by countless sharp blades, covered with deep, crisscrossing scratches, rough and cold to the touch. At the edge of the platform lies a bottomless abyss, with clouds churning below, obscuring the bottom.

What truly made Li Bai's breath catch in his throat was the "qi" that filled this small space.

That was neither wind nor ordinary spiritual energy. It was countless invisible and intangible yet truly existing "sword energies".

They were omnipresent, pressing in from all directions, carrying a bone-chilling cold and a sharp, cutting sensation. The moment Li Bai stood still, he felt as if countless fine ice needles were simultaneously pricking his exposed skin, making his hair stand on end. His clothes fluttered without wind, making a soft rustling sound, as if they might be torn apart by an invisible force at any moment. The air was as heavy as mercury, each breath incredibly difficult, a dull, squeezing pain shooting through his lungs. Even more terrifying was that these sword energies didn't just affect his body; they were like living things, trying to burrow into his pores, flowing upwards along his meridians, rushing straight to his brain, bringing waves of needle-like stings and intense dizziness.

"This place is called Sword Intent Peak." The High Priest's voice rang out beside her. She had somehow already arrived at the edge of the platform, her black robes remaining perfectly still amidst the invisible surge of sword energy, as if the sharp aura capable of tearing through metal were merely a gentle breeze to her. "The summit retains countless fragments of sword energy and sword intent left behind by ancient sword cultivators who practiced, comprehended, and even perished here. Over the years, these have formed their own domain. Meditate here for three days, endure the baptism of sword energy, and temper your body and spirit."

She turned around and looked at Li Bai, whose face had turned pale and who was struggling to circulate the "Basic Guiding Techniques" to resist the pressure around him. "This is the 'Body Tempering' stage, which tests perseverance, endurance, and a natural affinity with the way of the sword. If you cannot even withstand the sword energy at this stage, you are not qualified to touch the higher levels of sword intent."

Li Bai gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead throbbing slightly. Just standing on this peak felt like standing naked in the midst of a storm of blades in the dead of winter, every inch of his skin and every bone groaning in pain. His spiritual energy struggled to circulate in his meridians, attempting to build a thin layer of defense, but under the omnipresent erosion of sword energy, this defense was as fragile as paper.

"Furthermore," the High Priest's voice was calm and serene, yet it clearly pierced through the auditory illusion of whistling sword energy and reached Li Bai's ears, "among these myriad chaotic sword energies, lies a special 'intent.' It originates from a certain ancestral sword immortal of the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom who took the name 'Azure Lotus.' Although it is only a trace of the rudimentary form of his swordsmanship, it is the purest and the most unruly. If you can maintain a sliver of clarity in your mind amidst the torment of pain within these three days, capture it, and attempt to communicate with it using your own spiritual power and mind, initially introducing it into yourself... then you will have truly passed all the tests and be qualified to obtain the 'Azure Lotus Sword Manual.'"

Capture a specific wisp of sword intent? In this storm of sword energy, which is like purgatory?

Li Bai's heart sank, but a fiercer flame ignited in his eyes. He had already traversed the Path of the Heart, and solved the ancient array diagram; this final hurdle, no matter what, he had to overcome! For that power, for the chance to grasp the possibility of changing his destiny, and even more so for… that face that was exactly the same as Yang Xiaohuan's.

"Disciple...understands." He squeezed out a few words through clenched teeth, his voice distorted by the pressure.

The high priest said nothing more, only nodded slightly, and her figure retreated, merging into the churning clouds at the edge of the platform, as if she had never existed. But Li Bai knew that she must be watching this place from somewhere.

At the summit, only Li Bai remained, facing alone the sword energy domain that seemed capable of crushing everything.

He took a deep breath—a movement that brought a burning pain to his chest—and slowly walked to the center of the platform, sitting cross-legged. The rough, cold rock sent a chill through his thin clothes. He placed the broken Qingming sword, which he had been gripping tightly in his hand, across his lap; the cool touch of the blade gave him a slight jolt.

Close your eyes and focus all your energy on the "Basic Guidance".

Once the technique was activated, the conflict with the outside world intensified immediately. The sword energy, which had previously been passively endured, seemed to have found a clear target and surged even more frantically. It was no longer a fine ice needle, but transformed into countless invisible tiny files and saws, scraping and cutting his skin, muscles, and bones from all directions. The excruciating pain was like a tide, one wave after another. Sweat had barely seeped from his pores when it was swept away by the sharp aura, and his skin quickly became dry, taut, and even began to show a slight, chapped stinging sensation.

This is only the physical body.

Even more terrifying was the impact on the spiritual level. Those chaotic, violent fragments of sword intent, filled with killing and destruction, were like countless shrieking ghosts, frantically assaulting his consciousness. Shattered images flashed uncontrollably before his eyes: earth-shattering clashes of sword light, battlefields raining down blood, the sorrow of broken swords and dead men, the madness of those who could not attain the Dao... Various extreme emotions—anger, despair, resentment, violence—writhed around him like poisonous vines, attempting to corrupt his mind and shatter his will.

"Ugh..." Li Bai groaned, his body trembling violently, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. He clenched his teeth tightly, the metallic taste emanating from his gums. His consciousness was like a small boat in a storm, on the verge of capsizing at any moment.

We cannot give up! Absolutely not!

He forced himself to focus his mind, concentrating on his breathing and the faint yet tenacious vortex of energy swirling in his dantian. His spiritual energy flowed like a stream, struggling through his nearly blocked meridians, bringing a faint warmth wherever it passed, barely resisting the icy chill and cutting force of the sword energy.

Time loses its meaning here.

Every breath felt like an eternity. Pain was the only measure of time.

He didn't know how much time had passed—perhaps an hour, or perhaps just half an incense stick's time—but Li Bai felt his consciousness begin to blur. His senses, under the extreme pain, began to become numb, yet also unusually acute. He could "hear" the subtle, tearing sound of sword energy slicing through the air; he could "smell" the strange odor, a mixture of rust and scorched earth, emanating from rocks repeatedly cut by the invisible sword intent; and he could "taste" the increasingly strong metallic taste of blood and the salty bitterness of evaporating sweat in his mouth.

What sustained him was the faint yet constant cool sensation emanating from the broken sword on his lap, and... the image buried deep in his heart.

The deep sorrow and helplessness hidden in Yang Xiaohuan's eyes were revealed in her last glance before the dagger pierced her chest.

On the streets of Chengdu, when Yang Yuhuan turned around, her face was as clear as autumn water, yet seemed to be shrouded in the mists of fate.

The regret of not being able to protect in the past life, and the obsession in this life of not wanting to repeat the same mistakes.

"Ah—!" A low growl, tinged with blood and foam, escaped from deep within his throat. A sliver of light returned to his fading gaze. He couldn't fall here! To fall here meant the end, meant he would remain the same powerless weakling, powerless to change anything, meant the regrets of his two lifetimes would never be avenged!

He pushed the operation of the "Basic Guidance Chapter" to its limit, even beginning to surpass the conventional path recorded in the technique. Under the pressure of pain, his spiritual energy, like an iron blank being forged, though weak, gained an unprecedented sense of refinement.

The first day passed slowly amidst endless torment.

When the constant, gentle light in the secret realm dimmed for the first time, as if entering "night," Li Bai was already soaked in cold sweat and blood, as if pulled from the water. His face was as pale as paper, his lips were cracked and bleeding, and his seated body swayed uncontrollably. Yet he remained seated, his back even straighter than before. The broken Qingming sword on his lap, which had begun to emit an extremely faint, continuous hum, occasionally flashed a barely perceptible glimmer of light through the dim patterns on its blade.

The pain intensified the next day.

The physical torment seemed to have reached a certain threshold, beginning to penetrate deeper. The sword energy was no longer content with cutting the surface of the body; it seemed to transform into invisible needles, attempting to pierce into the bone marrow and internal organs. Every heartbeat was accompanied by a needle-like stabbing pain, and every breath felt like swallowing a razor blade. The mental impact also became more unpredictable; the fragments of sword intent began to weave more deceptive illusions, sometimes displaying the ultimate exhilaration of swordsmanship reaching the heavens and roaming freely through the world, tempting him to give up resistance and merge into the revelry of the sword energy; at other times, it displayed terrifying scenes of demonic possession, severed meridians, and annihilation of the soul, attempting to destroy his will with fear.

Several times, Li Bai's consciousness almost sank completely into the abyss of darkness, as if a single breath would release him from this boundless pain. But each time, the hum of the broken sword on his lap would suddenly become clearer, its icy touch becoming exceptionally vivid, like a nail firmly anchoring his fading consciousness within his body. And the faces of the two women in his heart would appear alternately, one carrying modern sorrow and expectation, the other carrying the innocence and destiny of the Tang Dynasty, like two inextinguishable lamps guiding him in the darkest depths of his soul.

He no longer tried to "confront" all the sword energy; that was impossible. He began to try to "feel" and "discern." In the boundless, destructive, and sharp aura, did a different "intention" truly exist? The pure and untamed sword intent belonging to the "Azure Lotus" that the High Priest spoke of?

This requires him to maintain an almost impossible level of mental clarity while enduring extreme pain.

The second "night" was even longer and more unbearable than the first. Li Bai's body was on the verge of collapse, his consciousness teetering between lucidity and confusion. He could barely feel his limbs; only his heart was still beating stubbornly and painfully in his chest, and the increasingly intense throbbing and burning sensation from between his eyebrows were signs of his mental energy being over-consumed and nearing depletion.

Just when he thought he was about to lose consciousness completely or be torn to shreds by the violent sword energy—

Change arrived quietly.

It wasn't that the pain lessened, but rather that he caught a faint ripple in that chaotic, noisy, and malicious "ocean" of sword energy.

The feeling of that "ripple" was very peculiar. It was equally sharp, but unlike other sword energies, it wasn't filled with a violent destructive urge. Instead, it carried a sense of elegance, agility, and even a touch of cynicism. It was like a slippery fish, freely weaving through the raging sword energy, sometimes close, sometimes far away, elusive and unpredictable. When it occasionally brushed past Li Bai, it didn't bring pure cutting pain, but a strange "throbbing," as if something within him had been gently stirred, and the broken Qingming sword on his lap would emit an exceptionally clear and melodious sound.

It's it!

That wisp of "Azure Lotus Sword Intent"!

His already exhausted and nearly numb spirit was forcibly injected with a stimulant at this moment. Li Bai suddenly gathered all the remaining energy in his mind, like a person dying in the desert who saw the phantom of an oasis, and recklessly "probe" towards the direction perceived by that unique "ripple".

Capturing it is extremely difficult.

That wisp of sword intent seemed to possess some rudimentary spirituality, showing a clear rejection and alienation from Li Bai's "attention." It moved faster and its trajectory became more erratic, sometimes disappearing into the turbulent flow of sword energy, and sometimes appearing from another unexpected angle, as if toying with this tiny creature that tried to grasp it.

Once, twice, three times… Li Bai’s consciousness missed its target time and time again. His mental energy was being depleted like water bursting a dam, and the burning pain between his brows was almost unbearable. But he did not give up. With an almost obsessive perseverance, he locked onto that unique “flavor” that the sword intent occasionally leaked out.

Gradually, through countless failed pursuits and attempts to perceive, he began to grasp the basics. He no longer tried to "grab" with brute force, but instead tried to adjust the fluctuations of his own spiritual power, imitating the graceful and agile characteristics of that wisp of sword intent; at the same time, he transformed his understanding of the way of the sword, that yearning for "freedom" and "unrestrainedness" from a modern soul, and the obsession with "protection" after being tempered on the path of self-examination, into a pure thought, which he slowly released.

This is neither an attack nor a plea; it's more like a display, an invitation to resonate.

The Qingming Broken Sword on her lap hummed more and more urgently, and the dim patterns on the sword began to light up with intermittent, bluish-green wisps of light, as if in response to something.

Time passed slowly, and the "night" of the second day was about to end, and the light in the secret realm began to brighten again.

Just moments before Li Bai felt his spiritual energy was about to be completely exhausted and his consciousness was about to fall into eternal darkness—

The ever-shifting azure lotus sword intent suddenly paused for a moment.

It seemed to hesitate, lingering near Li Bai's faint yet uniquely "flavorful" thoughts.

It's now!

Li Bai used his last bit of strength to transform all his mind, remaining spiritual power, and all his understanding of the way of the sword into an invisible yet unwavering "thread," gently yet irresistibly winding around the lingering sword intent.

The sword intent trembled violently, bursting forth with strong resistance, its sharp aura almost severing the fragile "thread".

Li Bai trembled violently, blood seeping from all seven orifices. His seated body lurched forward, only managing to stay upright through sheer willpower. He held on, pouring the hum of the broken sword, his longing for Yang Yuhuan (Yang Xiaohuan), and the furious roar of his two lifetimes of resentment against fate into the "fuse."

"Come!"

A silent cry resounded deep within the soul.

The resistance suddenly weakened.

That wisp of cyan, elegant yet sharp sword intent seemed to have finally acknowledged something, or perhaps it was attracted by something deeper, and gave up struggling. Following the "thread" that Li Bai had constructed with all his mind, it transformed into an imperceptible stream of light and suddenly disappeared into his brow!

"boom--!!!"

It was as if a thunderclap exploded in my mind, or as if a volcano that had been dormant for thousands of years suddenly erupted.

Li Bai felt his entire consciousness instantly engulfed by a boundless, misty sea of ​​sword light. The sword light was not violent, but rather carried an indescribable, mysterious rhythm. At times, it bloomed like a lotus flower, layer upon layer, containing endless vitality and change; at other times, it was like a single, sharp blade, refined to its extreme, capable of severing all shackles in the world.

Countless insights, images, and rhythms about the "sword" flooded into his consciousness like a burst dam. It wasn't about specific sword moves, but rather a kind of "intention," a kind of "way," about how to control the sword with the mind, how to transform intention into form, and how to integrate one's own will, emotions, and even understanding of heaven and earth into that three-foot-long blade.

At the same time, the omnipresent, violent pressure of sword energy on the summit receded rapidly like a tide. Although the sharp aura remained, the indiscriminate, malicious cutting sensation and mental impact were suddenly reduced by more than half. It was as if the core "Azure Lotus Sword Intent" had been taken away, causing the "soul" of this sword intent domain to dissipate, leaving only a mere "shell" in its physical form.

Within Li Bai's body, the spiritual energy, already tempered and refined under extreme pressure, becoming exceptionally solid and active, seemed to have found its final outlet and point of sublimation. No longer confined to the predetermined path of the *Basic Guiding Exercises*, it spontaneously began to circulate wildly along a more profound and efficient path, its speed increasing rapidly, finally contracting sharply inward at the center of the dantian vortex—

"Pop".

A soft sound, which only he could hear, like a bubble bursting or a seed sprouting.

Within the dantian, the previously loose and swirling vortex of energy disappeared, replaced by a more condensed, denser ball of spiritual energy radiating a faint blue light. The spiritual energy flowed continuously within it, perfectly smooth and seamless, its connection with the meridians and acupoints throughout the body becoming closer and smoother than ever before.

Late stage of Qi Condensation!

It happened naturally, without any hindrance.

Li Bai slowly opened his eyes.

A glint of cyan sword light flashed in his eyes, sharp enough to pierce the void, before disappearing and returning to its deep gaze. His face remained weary and pale, but his brows held an indescribable solemnity and sharpness, like a sword that had been forged and tempered, finally gleaming, still sheathed but already revealing a cold light.

He looked down at the broken Qingming sword on his lap. The broken sword lay there quietly, and the dim patterns on its blade seemed to brighten slightly, faintly forming a budding blue lotus pattern. Although incomplete, it already had a beginning shape.

He succeeded.

Before the three-day period was over, he had already captured and initially integrated the wisp of the Azure Lotus Sword Intent, and his cultivation level had broken through as a result.

He raised his head and looked at the churning clouds at the edge of the platform. Although he couldn't see them, he knew that the high priest must have sensed everything that was happening here.

At the summit of Sword Intent Peak, the wind still blows, but it is no longer biting.