“You just came from the Wuxing Zhi Xu?” In the night, the two walked hand in hand. Dugu Qingli didn’t seem to feel anything amiss, instead asking quite naturally.

“Hmm, I was originally meditating on the essence of water.”

“Then… why didn’t you take the remnant of the magic treasure? Since the elder allowed you to meditate, it means they recognized you, and the magic treasure is also permitted to be taken.”

“The elder’s burial objects, I don’t want to take them.”

“You weren’t so polite when you looted someone else’s cave.”

“Is Tianyao Shengdi someone else?”

Upon hearing this, Dugu Qingli’s first reaction was a slight sweetness in her heart, and her second reaction was a surge of anger to her head.

Tianyao Shengdi wasn’t someone else, but not because of her, Dugu Qingli, but because of her master.

What kind of situation was this?

Sensing the little white-haired girl suddenly wanting to pull her hand away, Lu Xingzhou quickly tightened his grip: “Don’t move, I’m purifying you.”

Dugu Qingli was both annoyed and amused: “Did you rely on this shamelessness to charm my master?”

Lu Xingzhou said: “Before I met your master, Tianyao Shengdi was already not ‘someone else’.”

The little white-haired girl’s hand instantly softened, and she lowered her head without a word.

A cold wind swept by.

Neither of them felt the chill; it was the surrounding graves that couldn’t bear it.

To speak such words and walk hand-in-hand in a graveyard as if it were a romantic stroll, perhaps even the grand cultivators of Tianyao Shengdi, as humans or ghosts, had never witnessed such a sight in all these years.

But in reality, their identities were awkward. Dugu Qingli absolutely did not want any development with Lu Xingzhou, and Lu Xingzhou could not be with Ye Tinglan while also making a move on the little white-haired girl. He was already racking his brains just to say a few relevant words.

So, for most of the time, they remained silent, just holding hands and walking slowly.

“Why did your sect set up Wan Jian Zong and Wuxing Zhi Xu?” Lu Xingzhou started a conversation, looking for something to say: “When I first heard of Wan Jian Zong, I thought it was just a burial place for swords, including enemy swords and the like, where only residual sword intent could be comprehended. Now I see, it’s not only a dedicated burial ground, but also has special array formations that prevent lingering souls from easily dissipating. It’s more than just residual sword intent.”

Dugu Qingli said indifferently: “I don’t know why it was set up this way initially, and I’m not as curious as you are.”

“However, I later came to believe that this is very conducive to increasing disciples’ sense of belonging to the sect, their reverence for their predecessors, and the continuation of traditions. Generations of predecessors have also been proud to be buried in these two places after their passing, feeling it is a form of eternal life. Even if their remnant souls dissipate completely in the future and only sword intent remains, future generations will still comprehend it. Even without taking disciples, one can pass on what they have learned in this life in this way.”

Lu Xingzhou nodded, a small doubt in his mind that wasn’t appropriate to voice in this setting.

After all, not everyone passes away peacefully.

As a soul banner cultivator, he was more sensitive to this aspect, and now, having inherited this fortune and regaining control of the Honglian Jieyan, his perception was even more heightened. If someone died with strong resentment, Wan Jian Zong and Wuxing Zhi Xu would not be so peaceful; they would either furiously kill all who came, or they would use the setting that allows remnant souls to remain to attempt to take over bodies.

So either Wan Jian Zong itself harbors such risks, or those types of deceased are buried elsewhere. The latter is more likely, and that would probably be a forbidden area of Tianyao Shengdi.

For some reason, Lu Xingzhou always felt that forbidden areas of the sect were more intriguing, while these places of contemplation that everyone could visit were actually not that interesting. If everyone contemplates together, the possibility of you comprehending something completely different from others is truly small.

But it could be used to systematically and gradually hone one’s own path.

Lost in thought, Dugu Qingli led him to a tombstone: “This is the elder known for his body tempering and fist and foot techniques, named Zhan Wuji, who was active between five hundred and one thousand years ago. His cultivation does not suit you, but his fist intent must have something worth comprehending. You might as well try.”

Lu Xingzhou then went to the tomb, lit three incense sticks, and respectfully bowed.

Dugu Qingli’s expression was a little strange.

Lu Xingzhou wondered, “What, you don’t offer incense?”

“None of us cultivate the incense path; it’s meaningless.”

“…No, it’s just a gesture. Never mind, it’s useless to talk about human empathy with your practical cultivation philosophy.” Lu Xingzhou sat down cross-legged, even pulling out a bottle of wine: “Senior, since you were a hero of hand-to-hand combat, you must have enjoyed drinking? This is my Lingquan Shan’s homemade brew, try some…”

After speaking, he poured a cup on the ground.

Dugu Qingli rolled her eyes in exasperation.

The next moment, a cold wind howled, and a thought echoed in his sea of consciousness: “Get out, my intent will absolutely not be passed on to those who flirt in front of an elder’s tomb. Are we supposed to act as your lookouts?”

Dugu Qingli: “?”

Lu Xingzhou said: “I even offered you wine.”

“I can’t drink it, are you trying to tempt me? Get lost.”

“Then what about this?” Lu Xingzhou sat cross-legged and casually punched towards the sky.

It seemed casual, but in reality, it was quite skillful.

It wasn’t the recently learned Yanyu Canyang, but the Taiji Tiangang burst technique from the Yinyang Jiyi Gong, which emphasizes the violent explosion produced by the collision and spiraling of Yin and Yang. This move had helped Lu Xingzhou defeat stronger opponents many times before and was one of his signature techniques.

When unleashed at this moment, the energy spiraled, rushing up about a li into the sky, where it exploded like dazzling fireworks.

The power was strong, and the visual effect was beautiful.

Dugu Qingli looked up, thinking it was very good, but it seemed to be missing something…

“Simply foul-smelling!” The voice that had just told them to get lost roared with fury: “You offer me such inferior wine?”

Yes, a fist without its own “intent” was no different from crude, inferior wine, merely having a burning sensation in the throat, but far from fine wine.

Before Lu Xingzhou could reply, a wave of pressure suddenly bore down on him.

It carried no actual power, merely the lingering intent at play, yet Lu Xingzhou’s mind was still blasted.

It felt as if ultimate destruction and death had descended, and even his soul sea, which had just solidified after breaking through to the third rank, was shattered instantly, unable to even form a thought.

The contained pressure and destruction were beyond words.

If one had to describe it, it was like witnessing a star exploding before one’s eyes, that moment of fear and breathtaking awe.

What was even more thought-provoking was that this strike simulated the same power level Lu Xingzhou had just used; it didn’t exceed it, but the feeling it conveyed was a world apart.

“To unleash damage exceeding the sum of Yin and Yang through their intertwining—this is indeed a good technique, but a technique is ultimately just a technique. You are already at the third rank, yet you still grind away at the technical level. What do you spend your daily time on? Chasing women? You useless trash!”

Lu Xingzhou: “…”

I only have books, no one taught me. What else but techniques could I learn…

As if sensing his defiance, the voice cursed again: “I think you shouldn’t sit here trying to comprehend. Your level is too low; you won’t comprehend anything worthwhile! Because this thing requires fighting, fighting countless people, fighting for a hundred years, fighting thousands of opponents, fighting until your fists have broken countless times, only then will you understand, only then will you have your own stuff. With your current combat experience, what could you possibly learn from me? Get out!”

Lu Xingzhou scratched his head; this time he put away his defiance.

Indeed, his own combat experience was far less than even an average person’s, let alone compared to such a supremely powerful elder.

Dugu Qingli saw everyone wanting to try each other’s cultivation techniques, partly because she was self-doubting whether her personality was influenced by her cultivation method and wanted to know if others’ methods would affect their temperament, eventually leading to some unknown distorted and wrong conclusions…

But the main reason for her actions was her constant contemplation of others’ weaknesses as a sword practitioner, and the thrill of the hunt, the eager desire for a challenge.

This was the Sword Heart.

This kind of intent, she didn’t say she didn’t have it, but it was extremely, extremely rare.

On the path of cultivation, no one cultivates like her; ultimately, she still became a pill master, not a fighter.

With this level, to learn intent from a senior who had honed his fist and foot abilities for hundreds of years and fought tens of thousands of battles, what could she possibly learn?

Lu Xingzhou was silent for a moment, then finally stood up straight and bowed deeply: “Thank you for the lesson. This junior will strengthen actual combat training and will constantly ponder the senior’s punch as a goal.”

The voice, however, stopped scolding.

A gentle breeze wafted, and the wine in the cup subtly rippled, as if accepting the offering.

Lu Xingzhou turned to Dugu Qingli: “Then let’s go…”

Before he could say “ba,” Dugu Qingli suddenly drew her sword and thrust it towards the sky.

With one sword strike, a “rumbling” thunderous sound erupted, shaking the surrounding air.

Innumerable ancient swords, broken swords, and rusty swords in front of the graves all quivered and hummed slightly, as if cheering for this sword.

“Om!” The sword tip pierced the point where Lu Xingzhou’s fist force had just exploded. The lingering Yin and Yang energies, still dispersed in the air, seemed to be drawn towards the sword tip like magnets with this sword, and the rapidly dispersing energy condensed a little again.

Then it exploded once more, emitting an ear-splitting, heaven-shattering roar.

Lu Xingzhou was dumbfounded.

Was that his power from just now?

How could it have been scattered, then re-gathered by the little white-haired girl, and then exploded with far greater power than his own from before?

What he had learned earlier was fist intent, not sword intent… so the little white-haired girl had drawn inferences from one instance to others, comprehending her own intent from that punch?

Yes, this sword carried no icy chill; it was simply pure sword.

She was casting aside her innate icy advantage, using the purest sword to activate power.

That voice, like savoring fine wine, said: “This is true martial cultivation, understanding one thing leads to understanding all, comprehending the sword through the fist. Watch carefully, learn well, lest you be unable to defeat your wife later and make a fool of yourself.”

Lu Xingzhou looked up at the white-haired girl’s soaring sword energy in the sky. The melancholy that had clung to her these days seemed to have been completely purged with this sword, as if she had undergone some kind of transformation.

Can’t defeat my wife? What’s the big deal, I have many wives I can’t defeat… A muscle-bound man knows nothing; such a wife is beautiful.

Dugu Qingli landed back on the ground, holding her sword by the hilt, and bowed deeply to the tombstone: “Thank you, Senior. This junior needs to meditate in front of your tomb for two more days. Please grant permission.”

“Granted,” the voice said. “You, go meditate on water over there. Don’t disturb my Tianyao Shengdi’s promising talent here.”

Lu Xingzhou was too lazy to care about Tianyao Shengdi’s duality between destruction and promising talents. Seeing Dugu Qingli seemingly transformed, he smiled freely and directly returned to the place where he had just been comprehending the essence of water.

Anyway, she is my wife, as explicitly permitted by your sect’s elders, I remember that.

Dugu Qingli seemed to want to say something, but in the end, she held back, just staring blankly at his retreating figure.

If it weren’t for him, she would still be suffering from cultivation deviation and getting beaten; how could she have undergone such a transformation and gained this sword intent?

She clearly shouldn’t have any more connection with him, yet the more she tried to sever their fated connection, the more inexplicably events seemed to tie them together, leaving a strong mark on every step of her breakthrough journey. She didn’t know what was happening.