Chapter Eleven: A Simple and Direct Method of Education (Part One)

Mo Bufan knew almost nothing about swordsmanship, but as a cultivator, he still understood a bit about manipulating the natural energies of heaven and earth. Moreover, this sword was clearly no ordinary weapon—it was a spiritual artifact, carved with intricate patterns of power. As he waved it casually, a thread of energy instantly gathered along the blade, and with a flick of his wrist, a surge of that force shot toward Ge Qingyang.

Mo Bufan realized he could not harm this man; he also guessed this must be the person his wife had mentioned as a potential helper. In this moment, he needed to display his abilities clearly, so that this man would recognize his worth and be willing to assist him.

Seeing the sword light of the morning breeze coming at him, Ge Qingyang’s face showed a hint of approval. He knew Mo Bufan had not studied many techniques, so being able to wield the energy of heaven and earth to this degree was already commendable. Ge Qingyang raised a single finger, using it as a sword, and with a flash, his sword energy blocked Mo Bufan’s attack and, without losing momentum, pressed onward toward Mo Bufan.

Mo Bufan, his realm of perception fully open, could sense the sword light, but it moved too swiftly. He managed only a sidestep before the light struck, slicing a bloody gash into his arm.

“Damn it, Master, are you playing for real?” Mo Bufan shouted. Had he been a moment slower, his arm would be useless now.

“Enough talk. Attack,” Ge Qingyang replied coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Swallowing hard, Mo Bufan gripped his sword tightly and lunged again at Ge Qingyang. This time, though, he abandoned ranged attacks and chose a direct, physical assault with his blade.

Ge Qingyang did not counterattack, but instead suppressed his strength to match Mo Bufan’s realm, relying solely on his movement to dodge and evade. Mo Bufan, focused now, drew on his perception and the body’s power and reaction at this level. His attacks were straightforward, no frills, each strike imbued with a thread of energy.

Yet, despite Mo Bufan’s efforts, his blade could not even brush Ge Qingyang’s sleeve as the latter moved with effortless grace through the courtyard. In less than a quarter of an hour, Mo Bufan was gasping for breath, exhausted, yet he still had not managed to touch his opponent. He felt as though he were being toyed with, but he quickly dismissed the thought, knowing this cold-faced man would not stoop to such things. He forced himself to calm down and began to study Ge Qingyang’s movements and his use of energy.

Soon, he started to imitate his master’s steps. As he did, his speed naturally increased by a margin, and though he still could not land a blow, he forced Ge Qingyang to move faster as well.

Not content with this, Mo Bufan paid close attention to the rhythm and direction of his master’s movements. Secretly, he readied his Fire Manipulation Technique in his palm. When an attack failed, he unleashed the technique, sending a fireball hurtling toward Ge Qingyang’s next landing spot.

“Good!” Ge Qingyang shouted approvingly. Seeing the fireball about to strike, he shifted his energy and batted it away with a wave of his hand.

“Continue!” Ge Qingyang commanded.

Mo Bufan needed no further instruction. His sword flashed forward again, faster and more forceful than before; his swordsmanship had grown much fiercer. The two figures, one attacking, one evading, darted about the courtyard, their movements growing ever swifter. Occasionally, bursts of flame would flicker, but these exchanges never lasted long. After another quarter hour, Mo Bufan’s speed dropped significantly, his spiritual energy depleted, his strength almost spent. He could no longer summon the fire technique.

Yet the man before him remained as poised and unruffled as ever. Mo Bufan, frustrated, pushed himself to his limits, gritting his teeth and refusing to give in.

At that moment, Ge Qingyang glanced at the panting, dog-tired Mo Bufan. Seeing his pupil launch another attack, he did not dodge this time; instead, he stepped forward and struck Mo Bufan’s chest with an open palm.

Mo Bufan, utterly spent, could not evade. He was sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground. Pain exploded in his chest, his energy churning wildly within him, and it took a long moment before he could catch his breath.

“Not bad,” Ge Qingyang remarked as Mo Bufan swallowed several pills in one gulp. “But cultivation is not just about raising your level. What matters more is your comprehension of the laws and energies within your current realm. Your progress in cultivation itself has been solid, but your understanding of the greater way of heaven is sorely lacking. From today on, you will begin focusing on the Dao.”

“But isn’t cultivation about advancing your level?” Mo Bufan asked.

“It is,” Ge Qingyang replied, “but if you wish to go further, you must fully grasp the essence of each realm before moving on.” As he spoke, he drew five bamboo slips from his robe and tossed them to Mo Bufan. “These are five sets of techniques: the ‘Purple Star Sword Art,’ the ‘Earth Escape Technique,’ the ‘Golden Body Art,’ the ‘Water Command Technique,’ and the ‘Azure Wood Art.’ They will help you better understand and wield the way of heaven and earth.”

Mo Bufan caught the scrolls.

“As a cultivator at this level, the best way to improve is not to practice flashy techniques like the Fire Manipulation Technique. While such arts can injure an opponent, they are of little use in real combat—a cultivator of your realm can easily evade them. The most effective are techniques like swordsmanship or saber arts. In the future, focus on the ‘Purple Star Sword Art’; the other basic techniques are meant to deepen your comprehension of the Dao,” Ge Qingyang continued.

Hearing this, Mo Bufan felt as if a great revelation had dawned on him. Until now, he had cultivated mostly out of curiosity and fun, never truly considering actual combat. He nodded. “Yes, Master.”

Ge Qingyang nodded as well. “From now on, every morning you will climb Tianyu Peak with your heavy stone. In the afternoon, I will check your progress. If you have questions, I will explain, but remember: you must form your own insights into each technique. If you simply ask me without your own understanding, I will not answer.”

Mo Bufan stuck out his tongue. This cold-faced master was more strict than he’d expected.

“That’s enough for today. I’m leaving,” Ge Qingyang said, and without waiting for a reply, strode off from Fairy Maiden Peak.

Watching his master come and go so abruptly, Mo Bufan couldn’t help shouting, “Hey, Master, I haven’t even performed the apprentice ceremony yet…”

“No need,” came Ge Qingyang’s distant voice.

Mo Bufan shook his head. “What a strange man.”

Having gained a master out of the blue, Mo Bufan still felt a bit disoriented. His new master was just like his wife—showing up without so much as a word to him beforehand. He hadn’t even been given a choice, let alone the courtesy of being told.

But since his wife had accepted it, accepting a master was all the easier. After a brief moment of confusion, he threw himself into practicing the ‘Purple Star Sword Art.’

The days that followed were busier than ever—and left him as exhausted as a dying dog. His master’s teaching methods were simple and rough; every “check” was really a sparring match, and each session ended only when Mo Bufan was left utterly spent.

His extraordinary talent now revealed itself fully. In just half a month, he completely mastered the ‘Purple Star Sword Art.’ The sword energy he conjured with the aid of spiritual power was truly formidable. Yet his opponent was Ge Qingyang; no matter how well he cultivated, he stood no chance against his master.

Ge Qingyang truly embodied his own philosophy—his understanding of each cultivation realm was absolute, and his mastery of every technique reached perfection. It was no exaggeration to say that, no matter which realm he suppressed his power to, he was invincible among his peers.

Soon, he placed the same demands on Mo Bufan.

With Mo Bufan’s talent and diligence, he could have broken through to the Ninth Heaven in about two months. But Ge Qingyang forced him to hold back for over three months before allowing him to advance. As for breaking through to the Continuous Realm, which would have taken about half a year, Mo Bufan was again required to suppress his progress for an entire year.

When would he be allowed to advance? That depended on whether Mo Bufan could last a full hour against Ge Qingyang in their matches.

In this way, Mo Bufan was compelled to focus on true comprehension of the Dao.

Over this year, Mo Bufan mastered dozens of techniques. His talent was simply too rare—understanding these arts came as easily to him as a mighty warrior eating bean sprouts, a trivial task.

The benefits of suppressing his cultivation showed clearly in his technique. Not only did he wield every art with ease, he could often bring out effects that should have been impossible at his current level.

He knew himself well: while he stood no chance against his monstrous master, he could easily defeat anyone else, even those above his level.

As for his understanding of the great energies and principles of heaven and earth, Mo Bufan’s comprehension was now absolute. In fact, the Dao of this world had much in common with what he had encountered in his previous life.