Ji Yuan and Niu Batian happened to return together at this very moment. With his keen hearing, the inn’s current silence naturally allowed him to hear Yan Fei’s somewhat resigned mutterings clearly. Ji Yuan was well aware that the Flying Swordsman, renowned for his sharp swordsmanship techniques, had been feeling lost and depressed for some time now. Ji Yuan and Niu Batian parted ways in the corridor of the inn, returning to their respective rooms. Watching Niu Batian occasionally pat the money pouch at his chest, Ji Yuan couldn’t help but jokingly say: “Don’t go out tonight. We still need to go to the Wei Mansion tomorrow morning. We attendants would be troubled if we can’t find Master Niu.” At this, the Old Bull, who had already walked a dozen steps forward, stiffened for a moment. He awkwardly turned back to Ji Yuan and smiled before returning to his room. Niu Batian’s room was relatively close to Yan Fei’s, and the sound of his door closing could be heart by the latter from inside his room. However, to Yan Fei, for the Old Bull to return at this hour wasn’t unusual; in fact, he had thought the Old Bull would not be back at all tonight. Yan Fei shook his head, sheathed his longsword, placed it back beside his bed, then lay back down, staring blankly at the ceiling of his room. Ji Yuan was not in a hurry to return to his room. Instead, he stood silently in the corridor for a long time. Though his pale eyes were still, there were indeed ripples deep in his heart. After a long while, Ji Yuan took out a scroll from his sleeve, slowly unfurled it, and read the characters written upon it. Combining Yan Fei’s state of mind with his current perception, Ji Yuan, in a trance, seemed to pierce through the barriers of time and space, and found himself observing an old man from high in the sky. By a thatched hut stood a square table in the front yard. Holding a sword in one hand and a brush in the other, the old man slowly began to speak, his voice hoarse, as he wrote. “I have lived eighty years traveling life’s long, winding road. Where does the Martial Path end? Does immortality lie beyond the innate? Even as these strokes fall upon the paper, my heart remains unwilling to accept defeat, so unwilling…” This very scroll was none other than the “Sword Intent Inscription,” which had once ignited a bloody storm in the martial arts world of Dazhen as countless martial artists to fought tooth and nail to possess it. Yan Fei’s personality differed from that of both Lu Chengfeng and Du Heng, as did their approaches to martial arts. Compared to the latter two, Yan Fei yearned to be more of a pure martial artist than a chivalrous hero. Ji Yuan sighed, muttering to himself. “How strikingly similar to Zuo Li…” Unlike most cultivators, Ji Yuan had never looked down on martial artists. The “Sword Intent Inscription” had profoundly influenced him, and continued to do so even now. THis kind of enlightenment, born of skill that bordered on the Tao, was incredibly precious, and could not be judged simply on its mortal, rather than immortal, provenance. “Is the Martial Path truly so powerless?” Ji Yuan murmured again, then shook his head. If Zuo Li were still alive, with his prowess in martial arts, ordinary demons and monsters would likely be no different from common martial artists in his presence. When Madman Zuo penned the “Zuo Li Swordsmanship,” he might have merely been a transient master of the innate realm. However, when he wrote the “Sword Intent Inscription,” Ji Yuan believed that at that moment, Zuo Li had already become an unparalleled Sword Immortal. Ji Yuan had never been so certain as he was at this very moment! This Sword Intent! This profound essence of the Tao! It was but a single step from breaking through to another realm. If it had been successful, what kind of magnificent journey would have followed? But in the end, Zuo Li still died with lingering regrets… “What a pity… what a true pity…” Ji Yuan himself was a master martial artist, and possessed a natural passion and affinity towards martial arts. however, he was not a pure warrior. Too many other concerns occupied his mind, too many other things consumed his attention and energy, from deducing divine abilities and techniques, to searching for ‘chess pieces’ across the land — this led him to become the enigmatic Mr. Ji. His thoughts flowed and shifted. Ji Yuan opened his eyes and spoke softly. “Warrior Yan, have you retired for the night?” The voice, like a gentle breeze, drifted into Yan Fei’s room and entered his ears. Yan Fei straightened almost instantly. ‘Is Mr. Ji calling me? ’ “If you’re not yet asleep, please come to my room for a chat.” Ji Yuan’s voice rang out again. Yan Fei finally confirmed that he hadn’t been dreaming or hearing things. He immediately threw back his covers and put on his outer robe. Not long after, Ji Yuan, sitting in his room, heard Yan Fei’s approaching footsteps. Just as Yan Fei was about to knock on the door, a voice emerged from within. “Just push the door open and come in.” Yan Fei didn’t hesitate, gently pushing the door open. Ji Yuan sat at a table, upon which lay a shaded oil lamp, and an unfurled scroll of calligraphy. Ji Yuan was looking down at the scroll. He did not immediately raise his head when Yan Fei entered. Yan Fei did not dare neglect his manners. He bowed, cupping his hands over his sword. “Mr. Ji, I apologize for the intrusion!” Ji Yuan looked up and smiled, gesturing towards the stool beside him. “It was I who disturbed Warrior Yan’s rest. Please, take a seat.” Yan Fei closed the door behind him and quickly approached the table, sitting down beside Ji Yuan. His gaze was naturally drawn to the calligraphy scroll on the table. Before he could even open his mouth to ask, Ji Yuan had already begun to explain. “This calligraphy scroll possesses a restrained aura and spiritual energy. Its brushstrokes flow like dragons and shifting snakes. It is both fine writing and an example of excellent swordsmanship, a rare masterpiece in this world. I’m sure Warrior Yan has heard of it: it is none other than the ‘Sword Intent Inscription’ left behind by Zuo Li all those years ago.” ‘The Sword Intent Inscription! ? Zuo Li? So Madman Zuo’s real name was Zuo Li!’ Yan Fei’s heart jolted in surprise. The “Sword Intent Inscription” was simply too well-knwon. Rumors about had circulated widely in the martial arts world of Dazhen for decades, and had long been forgotten. However, due to the recent incident involving the Thirteen Thieves of Yan, it had once again risen to prominence in the martial arts world. At the very least, everyone of Yan Fei’s generation was keenly aware of this scroll’s legendary status. ‘I didn’t expect the ‘Sword Intent Inscription’ to be in Mr. Ji’s hands. No wonder no one in the martial arts world has been able to find any trace of the scroll these past few years…’ His thoughts raced like lightning, but Yan Fei harbored no unnecessary thoughts of what might be contained within the “Sword Intent Inscription. ” For one, it belonged to Ji Yuan. For another, he had developed a hint of despondent apathy towards the path of martial arts over this period of time. As if he had seen through Yan Fei’s thoughts, Ji Yuan looked at him, smiled, and asked: Read complete versıon only at 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵⁂𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⁂𝓷𝓮𝓽 “Warrior Yan, do you perhaps feel that no matter how profound the martial arts hinted at in this ‘Sword Intent Inscription,’ they are still nothing more than the martial arts of mortals?” Yan Fei was slightly taken aback. He didn’t expect Mr. Ji to have seen through his thoughts, but he did not refute. “There is a belief among those who cultivate immortality that martial arts are merely minor mortal techniques, not worth a second thought. What do you think of this, Warrior Yan?” Faced with Ji Yuan’s question, Yan Fei’s heart tightened. Though he felt a pang of unwillingness, he nonetheless agreed. However, he was no fool; he understood that since Mr. Ji had asked him this question, there was likely a twist in the answer. Still, it was truly difficult to deny his beliefs, and if pressed, he would be at a loss to explain himself. “I believe that, from an immortal’s perspective, this statement is correct.” “I knew you would say that.” Ji Yuan smiled, then pointed to the “Sword Intent Inscription.” “But martial arts, or rather, the Martial Path, is not as simple as you might imagine, nor as simple as some of the more superficial cultivators might believe. Zuo Li’s ‘Sword Intent Inscription,’ in my humble opinion, has already achieved a level where skill approaches the Tao; this can truly be called the Martial Path.” Ji Yuan’s smile faded, his voice solemn and filled with emotion. “Zuo Li was obsessed with martial arts his entire life. In his later years, he began seeking immortality. Little did he know, if he had pushed himself to his utmost to advance just a little further, one more step, his martial arts realm would have unveiled unprecedented new heights.” “Thump… thump… thump… thump…” Ji Yuan rhythmically tapped the “Sword Intent Inscription,” examining the scroll and speaking very seriously. “Human power has its limits, but martial arts are no mere minor technique!” A trace of sprirtual energy flowed flowed from Ji Yuan’s fingers into the “Sword Intent Inscription,” stirring the divine essence within the calligraphy. “If there were truly someone who could diligently follow the Martial Path, reach the pinnacle of their craft, then break through the shrouding mists and barriers to forge ahead, the Martial Path will undoubtedly become even more magnificent. I have a suspicion that although this path is difficult, its potential future achievements might not rival those of the path of immortality and monsters.” Ji Yuan looked back at Yan Fei, before pushing the “Sword Intent Inscription” towards him. “Although I have read the ‘Zuo Li Swordsmanship Manual,’ I did not commit it to memory. Furthermore, it belongs to the Zuo family, and cannot be passed around casually. However, the true essence of the Martial Path is contained within this ‘Sword Intent Inscription.’ It is far more precious than any martial arts manual; it could even be said to be unprecedentedly priceless…” Ji Yuan paused for a moment, then continued. “Warrior Yan, your temperament is not suited for cultivating immortality; if you tried, you might easily become a demon. However, in terms of the Martial Path, your will bears some some resemblance to Zuo Li’s intent from back then. Today, I present to you this ‘Sword Intent Inscription. ‘ I have already imbued it with a technique to convey intent through objects, allowing you to glimpse Zuo Li’s former glory.” As Ji Yuan spoke, he rolled the “Sword Intent Inscription” back up. “Take it back with you and unfurl it in your own room. You will surely fall into a deep sleep when you first look at it. Please, Warrior Yan, I ask that you read it from your bed.” Yan Fei’s expression was a mix of astonishment and a daze. He gazed at the “Sword Intent Inscription” with a complicated look, still finding it hard to imagine how a martial artists could contend with immortals and demons. But an extraordinary immortal like Mr. Ji would surely not deceive him. Since Mr. Ji had emphasized the significance of this calligraphy, then there must be some profound truth contained within it. Yan Fei gripped the scroll, which now felt surprisingly heavy, stood up, and bid Ji Yuan farewell. “Thank you, Mr. Ji, for your words this evening. I will cherish them. Please, rest. I will not disturb you further!” Ji Yuan nodded, watching Yan Fei turn and open the door. The moment Yan Fei went to close the door, Ji Yuan’s voice once again rang out. “Warrior Yan, though you cherish my words, you are also confused. Rest well after viewing the scroll.” Yan Fei paused outside the door, bowed once more from behind it, then turned and left. After returning to his room, Yan Fei merely slipped off his shoes, placed his longsword at the head of the bed, and then sat down on the bed, slowly unfurling the “Sword Intent Inscription.” As more and more characters were revealed, the writing on the scroll seemed to blur. Yan Fei shook his head, yet felt increasingly as thought the characters on the page were growing more and more alive, as if they were lifting from the paper and dancing in the air. In a daze, Yan Fei swayed, clutching the scroll, and slumped down on the bed. In his dream, someone stood, sword in hand, at the peak of a mountain… The long, ringing cry of the sword danced with the wind and rain, then the blade gleamed alongside the setting sun. In his own room, Ji Yuan, who was also lying on the bed, glanced sideways at the Green Vine Sword resting beside him. His thoughts seemed to drift back decades. “Where does the Martial Path end…? Yan Fei, don’t let me down!”