1,500 sword manuals—to read them all is a slog, a proper test of patience. Even one a day means 1,500 days!
Time slipped by. Five years passed unnoticed in One Thought Clarity Tower.
Inside, Lin Yun set down a manual.
Five years in here—he’d chewed through all 1,500. Ones that clicked, he’d linger on for days; similar duds, he’d skim fast.
Every last one—done!
Sinking into that for five years? Tough gig. Took ditching the grind mindset to pull off.
Browsing swordplay opened Lin Yun’s eyes—flipped his grasp of the sword upside down!
“Five years here, one out there,” Lin Yun murmured.
He stood. “Now, time for *Shadow Sword Art*, third form!”
Sword flashed out with a flick.
Seeing it now, his take on ‘sword’ had morphed completely. Sure, he’d swung it plenty these four years, but never touched third form again—dropped the must-win itch to finish the read-through.
Books done, time to test it.
*Boom! Boom!*
Sword qi danced in the Tower!
An hour later, *Boom!* A fearsome slash tore space—raw power erupting.
“Third form—nailed it!” Lin Yun grinned.
Four years soaking up sword lore reshaped his sword sense. Third form? Smooth as butter now—his grasp leagues beyond four years back.
“Couldn’t crack it then—my sword insight was too shallow. If I’d kept grinding blind, who knows how long it’d take,” Lin Yun said with a wry chuckle.
Back then, he’d trained like a madman—pointless without the right path. Effort’s nothing without direction.
Now, with sword insight clicked, third form flowed easy—barely broke a sweat.
Its power? Damn satisfying. Real test’d be combat—yet to try *Shadow Sword Art* live.
“Fourth form next!”
Set, he pictured it in his mind—half a day later, swung the sword!
…
A day on, the blade melted into space—elusive, wild!
“Ha! Done!”
“Fourth form—cracked it too!” Lin Yun beamed, buzzing.
Plant a flower, it flops; plant nothing, it blooms—mad twist!
Third form had stumped him. Four years of sword binge, rethinking the blade—and bam—third *and* fourth forms down!
Each *Shadow Sword Art* step spikes harder. First form? Ten Tower days. Second? Six months. Third? Years of dead ends—proof of the climb!
Two forms in one go? His sword epiphany unlocked the essence—smooth sailing.
“Fifth form—why not?”
Bold idea sparked—he dived in!
…
A day later, “No dice. Fourth to fifth’s a monster jump—can’t crack it yet,” Lin Yun shook his head.
Each *Shadow Sword Art* leap matched *Heaven-Shaking Hand*’s brutal tiers. That’s at second rank now—each step a terror.
Five years boosted his sword sense big, but fifth form? Still out of reach—way off.
Two forms in one swoop—Lin Yun was chuffed.
“Counting it up, four years outside since joining Master. Hall Master He said three years best, five max—not too late, eh?” Lin Yun chuckled.
And he’d hit fourth form.
“Time to see Master.”
He left the Tower, back to his room.
Joining up, Emperor Fire Cloud said—third form, then visit.
Lin Yun stepped out—courtyard bound—sun high, morning vibes.
Liang Qing swept the yard.
He’d told her not to bother, but she kept it spotless—her way of pitching in for camp access.
“Brother Lin Yun,” she chirped, smiling as he appeared.
“Liang Qing, yard’s gleaming. It’s morning—hit Mindforce Land, skip the sweeping,” Lin Yun said.
“Brother Lin Yun, I…” Liang Qing faltered, mumbling.
“What’s up? Something wrong?” Lin Yun frowned—off vibes.
“N-Nothing,” she forced a smile, still stuttering.
“Something’s up! Spill it,” Lin Yun pressed.
“Brother Lin Yun, it’s… it’s not much. Just Mindforce Land—I… I can’t get in,” she said, voice tiny.
“Can’t get in? How? You’ve got my token,” Lin Yun’s brow creased.
“I do, but the guards say it’s not mine—won’t let me pass,” she explained.
“You used to get in fine. When’d this start?” Lin Yun asked.
“They never stopped me before—treated me well, even. But this past year, I… I’ve been locked out,” she said quietly.
“Past year? You should’ve told me sooner—why now?” Lin Yun eyed her, serious.
“Brother Lin Yun, you were shut in. I couldn’t bug you—my stuff’s small fry,” she said, squeezing a smile.
“Right, I’ll ask Peach Sis. Should sort it,” Lin Yun said.
“Brother Lin Yun, no need!” Liang Qing waved it off—clearly not wanting hassle.
“Don’t stress. Brother Liang entrusted you to me—I’ll live up to that.”
Lin Yun turned, strode off.
“Brother Lin Yun!” Liang Qing called after him, worried—she’d heard Peach Sis herself had barred her.
