The heavy, resounding clank of the Tang Estate's newly reinforced iron gates swinging inward finally broke the rhythmic rattling of the carriage ride.
"We have arrived, Young Master," Uncle Fu called out softly from the driver's seat, bringing the shadow-wood carriage to a gentle halt in the main courtyard.
Shen Yu exhaled a slow, measured breath. With the effortless control of a supreme predator, he seamlessly reined in his suffocating, dark aura, letting the calm, collected facade of the Tang Clan's young master fall perfectly back into place as he stepped out into the crisp night air.
Instead of heading toward the lavish warmth of his private chambers, his golden eyes shifted toward the estate's expansive martial training grounds. He didn't even need to expand his spiritual senses to know exactly where Lixue would be. The sharp, haunting whistle of steel slicing through the cold wind was a dead giveaway.
Under the pale, silver glow of the moonlight, the Sword Sovereign was a breathtaking vision of lethal grace. Dressed in a sleek, midnight-blue training tunic that clung tightly to her sweat-sheened curves, Lixue was executing a devastatingly complex sword dance. Every thrust, parry, and sweeping arc was flawlessly precise, carrying a faint, chilling hum of localized sword intent. The sheer sharpness radiating from her blade was leaving shallow, razor-thin cuts across the solid stone paving of the courtyard without the metal ever actually touching the ground.
As Shen Yu stepped casually into the perimeter of the training grounds, her heightened martial instincts instantly locked onto his presence.
She didn't sheathe her blade or bow. Instead, she completed her lethal form with a blindingly fast, sweeping arc. The gleaming tip of her sword came to a sudden, absolute halt just a hair's breadth above the stone floor, the sudden stop causing the steel to ring with a beautiful, deadly hum.
Lixue slowly turned to face him. Her chest heaved slightly from the intense exertion, a fine layer of sweat making stray strands of her black hair stick to her elegant neck and collarbones. Her deep blue eyes, usually so cold, empty, and completely detached toward the rest of the world, were currently burning with a fierce, competitive heat that only ever flared when she looked at the man she worshipped.
"You have returned, Yu'er," Lixue said. Her voice was a smooth, melodic purr, but it carried the undeniable, thrilling edge of battle and lust.
With a fluid, arrogant twist of her wrist, she raised her blade, pointing the gleaming tip directly at his chest as she sank seamlessly into a flawless, aggressive dueling stance. Her lips curled into a rare, breathtakingly fierce smile.
"The night is still young. Spar with me."
Shen Yu smiled at her widely, a dark, thrilled expression spreading across his handsome face. With a flick of his spatial ring, he drew a mortal-grade black-iron spear. The weapon was forged entirely of dark, light-absorbing metal, utterly devoid of ornamentation.
He deliberately didn't summon the Crimson Fang Spear. Because the demonic weapon was an Earth-grade artifact, it consumed a tremendous amount of spiritual energy.
In the cultivation world, it was standard practice for most cultivators, even those up to the Foundation Establishment stage, to primarily wield mortal-grade weapons. Higher-grade artifacts simply drained too much Qi. While Shen Yu's terrifying foundation might allow him to wield the Crimson Fang Spear for a few minutes of absolute slaughter, anything beyond that would leave him completely drained of energy.
He spun the black-iron spear expertly, executing a few rapid slashes and precise thrusts to test the weight, the air whistling sharply around the blade, before sinking low into a relaxed, flawless battle stance.
Over the past month, Shen Yu had focused his time intensely on two main pursuits: the rapturous depths of dual cultivation and mastering the spear. He knew that training alone in a courtyard could only help him perfect the rigid forms of a technique, but to grasp its true, lethal essence, he needed blood-pumping combat. That was why he regularly chose to spar with Lixue, whose own cultivation had explosively advanced to the 2nd Stage of the Foundation Establishment realm after their multiple, intense dual cultivation sessions.
Thanks to the residual muscle memories left behind in the original Shen Yu's body, the demonic grandmaster had been able to get by the absolute basics of spear-wielding in just a day or two. After integrating those foundational movements, he had scoured the hidden library of the Shen Clan for a suitable martial art. He eventually settled on a mortal-grade manual: the Rising Swan Spear Technique.
His logic for choosing it perfectly mirrored his choice in weaponry. Just like artifacts, higher-grade martial techniques required a massive toll of spiritual energy. Shen Yu wanted to first focus on mastering a technique he could use continuously in drawn-out battles without fearing sudden energy drain. He would strategically save learning a higher-grade technique later to use as a devastating ultimate move.
The Rising Swan Spear Technique was an incredibly elegant spear art, designed to captivate and mimic the deceptive, fluid, and fiercely graceful movements of a swan taking flight.
Shen Yu and Lixue locked eyes across the moonlit courtyard. The air between them grew impossibly tense, humming with raw martial intent.
Then, they moved at the exact same time.
Lixue closed the distance in a blur of midnight blue. Her sword lashed out, a streak of pure silver moonlight. Amplified by her Ancient Sword Sovereign bloodline, her blade didn't just cut the air; it severed the wind itself. The sheer precision and localized sharpness of her strikes were terrifying, leaving trails of frost-like sword Qi lingering in her wake.
Shen Yu didn't retreat. He met her charge head-on, stepping into the Rising Swan's first form.
Clang!
Sparks rained down upon the stone as the black-iron spear swept upward in a graceful, sweeping arc, perfectly parrying her lethal thrust. The technique was breathtakingly fluid. Shen Yu used the momentum of her own heavy strike to spin the spear around his back, transitioning instantly from defense to a blindingly fast, downward strike aimed at her shoulder.
Lixue's eyes flashed with thrill. She pivoted on her heel, her body bending backward with impossible flexibility to let the iron shaft whistle mere inches past her face.
Before Shen Yu could pull the spear back, Lixue stepped directly inside his guard. The cold, lethal distance of a weapon's clash suddenly dissolved into deeply intimate, close-quarters combat. She brought the hilt of her sword up to trap the spear's shaft, her body pressing flush against his as she aimed a swift, sweeping kick at his legs.
Shen Yu anticipated it. He dropped his stance, his knee catching her thigh to block the sweep. Releasing his right hand from the spear, he aggressively wrapped his arm around her narrow waist, pulling her violently flush against his chest.
For a split second, the violent clash of steel stopped. Their faces were inches apart. He could feel the heavy, rapid thumping of her heart against his chest and the scorching heat of her sweat-slicked skin. Lixue let out a soft, involuntary gasp as his pure Yang energy brushed against her, her cold blue eyes melting slightly as she stared up into his predatory gaze.
"You left your center open, my beautiful sword," Shen Yu murmured, his voice a dark rumble that vibrated through both of them.
"Did I?" Lixue purred breathlessly.
Using the leverage of his grip on her waist, Lixue suddenly wrapped her long leg around his thigh, pulling herself up and over in a flawless, acrobatic spin. As she twisted out of his hold, she trailed the flat, icy edge of her blade teasingly down his chest, right over his heart, before landing gracefully a few paces away.
Shen Yu chuckled, a low, genuinely thrilled sound. He spun the black-iron spear in a rapid circle, the Rising Swan technique flowing into its second phase as his aura flared.
She didn't hesitate. Lixue launched herself forward again, her bloodline singing as a storm of razor-sharp sword intent erupted around her. Shen Yu met her with sweeping, elegant arcs of iron, turning the moonlit courtyard into a beautiful, lethal dance of flying sparks, ringing steel, and deeply intoxicating tension.