After the spiritual energy was restored: Goddess girlfriends came knocking.

It took Lin Chu a long time to adjust to the fact that she was a baby.

My body is too weak.

The innate foundation of Dao is still there, but it is severely restricted by the meridians of a young child. It is like having a wide river channel, but the sluice gate is only slightly open, and spiritual power can only seep out with difficulty through the gap.

As for the true dragon bloodline, it remained completely still and deep within the bloodline.

There are only three things he can do: observe, listen, and wait.

Observe every face in this room: his mother holding him, and his father who would come in every evening, clumsily hold him for a while, and then be scolded out by his mother.

To be honest, Jiang Wuchen's way of holding a child is really bad.

Every time, it was like carrying a fragile antique; I didn't know where to put my hands. My mother scolded me several times, but I still did the same thing the next time.

But he still came every day.

But there was one thing he accepted immediately without needing to adapt during those six months.

The love that Jiang's father and mother had for him.

This was an emotion he had never experienced before.

Lin Chu felt that a very old void in her heart was being filled little by little.

someday.

He overheard Jiang's mother saying to Jiang Wuchen, "What do you think he'll be like when he grows up?"

Jiang Wuchen thought for a moment: "Like you."

"You're so cheeky." Mother Jiang chuckled and patted him lightly, looking down at the baby in her arms. Her voice was so soft it was as if she was afraid of startling something. "I just hope he's safe and sound. I don't ask for anything else, just that he's safe and sound."

As Lin Chu listened from inside her swaddling clothes, her heart felt as if something had gently twisted it.

Yes, peace.

In the Realm of Ten Thousand Demons, the greatest luxury for humans is peace.

Meanwhile, news of Jiang Yan's birth had already spread throughout the Jiang family.

Initially, it was a few households near the Jiang family.

Later, the news spread further and further, reaching every corner of the capital of Tushan.

Several aristocratic families who had connections with the Jiang family discussed privately that the Jiang family had produced an extraordinary descendant—the ancestral sword had rang out on its own, a first in ten thousand years, and the child's talent was beyond imagination.

But in the end, someone always sighs and whispers: What a pity.

It's a pity I was born in this godforsaken place.

Even the best seedlings, if they can survive to blossom and bear fruit in the Demon Realm, are considered extremely lucky.

Many more were nipped in the bud before they even grew up.

The demon race didn't react much.

Even if a human baby makes a huge commotion, it's not worth the attention of the demon nobles of the Tushan Dynasty.

A few demon cultivators who appeared to be in charge casually asked, "How is the child from the Jiang family?" The person who answered replied, "He's still young, we can't tell anything yet," and the matter was temporarily put aside.

Time flies, and Lin Chu... oh no, now it should be Jiang Yan, is three years old.

He neither deliberately hid his talents nor deliberately flaunted them.

Anyway, the reputation of being a genius has already spread.

At the age of three, Jiang Yan officially began to draw qi into his body.

For ordinary humans, it takes at least seven or eight years old for their meridians to begin to develop and for those with exceptional talent to do so, even at five or six years old.

Jiang Yan could walk on his own when he was two years old. When he was three, his meridians began to open up, and spiritual energy automatically flowed into him along the meridians of his innate Dao foundation.

He sat cross-legged on the bed, guiding that faint wisp of spiritual energy through his body to complete its first cycle.

Just then, Jiang Wuchen pushed open the door and came in to deliver the porridge.

The porridge bowl fell to the ground, shards of porcelain mixed with white porridge splashed all over the floor.

That night, the lights in the Jiang family's ancestral hall stayed on all night.

Several clan elders surrounded the Third Uncle, their voices arguing from inside the ancestral hall. The voices were low, but occasionally a few words would be raised—"Sword Cry," "Qi Induction," "Only Three Years Old," "Can't Hide It."

Finally, the third uncle made the final decision: it should not be mentioned to outsiders, nor should it be passed on to family members. The children should be taught however they should be taught, but no one should utter a single word about it to outsiders.

From that day on, all of the more than one hundred members of the Jiang family remained silent about Jiang Yan's existence.

Jiang Yan knew that her family was deliberately hiding her existence.

Whenever outsiders came, he would be carried into the backyard and not allowed to show his face.

The servants in the house were repeatedly instructed not to mention the young master to anyone outside the household.

In the Demon Realm where human life is as worthless as grass, showing one's talent too early may not be a good thing.

From the age of four, Jiang Yan got up early every day to read and practice writing with the elders in her clan.

The Jiang family doesn't have much to pass down to future generations.

Spirit stones, cultivation techniques, and magical treasures—these are more precious than life itself to the humans of the Myriad Demon Realm.

But books are different.

The books accumulated by the Jiang family over generations filled a small room.

These things were naturally too easy for Lin Chu; he could memorize them after just one look.

But he didn't try to show off. He just read along when he was supposed to and wrote slowly when he was supposed to. He only occasionally and unintentionally corrected one or two of his teacher's mistakes in using allusions.

The gentleman simply thought he was exceptionally intelligent and didn't suspect anything.

At the same time, the horse stance practice also began.

Because of the unusual sword-like sound at his birth, the Jiang family decided that the child should be trained in the way of the sword.

Liu Qingyi taught him swordsmanship.

The Jiang family's butler, a middle-aged man with a limp, always looked like he was still hungover and yawning, leaning against a pillar with messy hair and stubble that he hadn't shaved for three days.

When Lin Chu first met him, she thought he was just a doorman who was just coasting along.

But Jiang Wuchen said, "Steward Liu is the best swordsman in the Jiang family."

He watched as Liu Qingyi limped over and stopped in front of him.

The smell of alcohol hadn't dissipated yet.

"Young master, would you like to learn swordsmanship?"

"think."

"Good thing." Liu Qingyi took out a wooden sword from her sleeve and handed it to him. "First, practice horse stance for an hour."

He added, "After you finish practicing today, you might not want to learn anymore tomorrow."

Jiang Yan took the wooden sword without saying a word and assumed a horse stance.

The horse stance lasts from one incense stick's time to one hour.

The wooden sword was used for countless slashes, thrusts, parries, parries, and parries, until the arm ached so much that it could no longer be lifted.

Liu Qingyi never drank alcohol when teaching Jiang Yan to practice swordsmanship.

Sitting on the porch, the lame leg stretched straight out, squinting at him.

When he speaks, every word he utters is practical and meaningful.

Lin Chu felt that this person was not simple—someone who could be called "the best swordsman" by the Jiang family patriarch could not possibly be just a drunken cripple.

Two months later, Lin Chu had finished learning all the basic sword techniques.

Liu Qingyi began to teach him advanced sword techniques.

Jiang Yan began to display amazing talent.

The sword in his hand was not like a weapon, but like a part of his body.

Liu Qingyi didn't say much about it.

One day, he was handed a new wooden sword.

It's exactly three times heavier than the previous one.

"Uncle Liu, this is too heavy."

"practice."

Jiang Yan had no choice but to continue.

On the afternoon of the day when Jiang Yan turned six, he had just finished practicing his sword in the courtyard and was leaning his wooden sword against the wall when he heard his father and several uncles talking from the main hall.

They seemed to be discussing something.

He hadn't intended to eavesdrop. But a name drifted into his ears.

"...Tu Shan Ruoshui, the most favored direct descendant princess of the Tu Shan royal family, will be going out of the palace for a trip in a few days. The royal family specifically requested that our Jiang family accompany and protect her."

Tu Shan Ruo Shui.

Jiang Yan stood at the corner of the corridor, the wooden sword in her hand resting against the wall, still not loosened.

This name sounds so familiar.

Tu Shan Ruo Shui.

Jiang Ruoshui.