Li Yuan finally stepped out of seclusion, still moving in slow motion. Even after leaving the chamber, he kept every gesture unhurried, combining Taiji visualization with deliberate, dreamlike speed. Yet all his added skill points seemed to pour only into shadow blood skills, so nothing new had appeared in his skill list, save for a faint wisp of Yin energy. He suspected it clung to him from the long time he spent with Yan Yu before he mastered the Yang flame. That chill trace now seemed to sculpt his thoughts, sharpening them; the whole world in his eyes had begun to slow. At last, fatigue crept in, and he emerged. Seeing Xie Yu fuming outside the door, he asked, “Wife, care to practice the blade with me?” She waved the maids away. “Ximen Gucheng, do you even know what husband and wife means?” “...” Li Yuan nodded. “Then do you know what husbands and wives are supposed to do?” “...” He nodded again. Her eyes misted. “We’ve been married more than a month.” Li Yuan sighed inwardly. In the past, he would have consummated the marriage on the first night. High ranked martial artists burned with excessive vitality. But ever since that sudden epiphany, and with a month of immersion in this strange practice, women simply held less allure than the blade. He had once scoffed at the saying, With no woman in your heart, your blade stroke is divine. He assumed it came from sour grapes. Now he saw the logic reversed.  When a martial artist lost themselves in the blade, nothing but the blade remained. Even when they pictured a woman, they would notice only her speed, her power, the angle of her weapon, not her face or her flesh. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. This turn of events had never occurred to him. Training consumed him, and the worldly joys he once loved now felt like shackles he instinctively dodged. Perhaps it was the method itself, but he was in too deep to stop. Xie Yu managed a smile. “Honestly, I never planned to…well, so early. If it weren’t for you, who knows how long I’d have dragged my feet? Since you’re my husband and you can’t run off, what’s there to fear?” She lifted her face; under the sunlight she was breathtaking. Yet Li Yuan found he could not fully appreciate that beauty. After a pause he offered, “Then tonight…we sleep together.” “Not so fast! You don’t get to decide that on a whim.” She folded her arms, then remembered her wooden‑headed man and worried her act of coyness might drive him away. Quickly she corrected herself, “Very well—deal! And no backing out!” “I won’t.” Li Yuan’s smile promised no back‑tracking. That night they shared the same bed. Li Yuan might be a single‑minded martial fanatic now, but a man’s body still reacted as a man’s body would. Xie Yu felt his response yet couldn’t bring herself to take the lead. Pride held her back; Li Yuan, though aroused, seemed to hover outside himself, coolly observing both their bodies—the warmth, the quickened pulse—merely as flesh that could cloud the mind. In that icy detachment he did nothing. Had Xie Yu moved first, he would not have refused, but she did not, and so they simply fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. At dawn, he slipped away into seclusion again. Li Yuan emerged, no longer vague about what he sensed, a thread of Yin energy etched into his soul. It was a parting gift from Yan Yu, just as he had left a spark of Yang energy inside her. That sudden insight months ago when he first entered the Xie Clan was likely its gradual influence. He had tried to merge the Yin energy into himself and failed. Yin would not fuse with the living. Still, when his cultivation touched its frequency, the strand of Yin energy jabbed at him like a needle, spurring him forward. Snow blanked all of Ocean Province that day. Two months had long since rubbed the blush from Xie Yu’s cheeks; frustration was breeding a demon in her heart. She seized Li Yuan’s hand and asked with icy, cool eyes, “Do you even like me?” He answered by pulling her into his arms. That night husband and wife finally became husband and wife. Xie Yu crossed the threshold from girl to woman, the knot inside her untied. She understood at last the kind of man she had married, and forgave him for it. To unwind, Li Yuan skipped the chamber and wandered the residence with her. Hand in hand, they reached the clan’s library. “There are rare manuscripts here, come see.” Newly wed and newly bold, Xie Yu refused to let go of his hand. Li Yuan, seldom out in public, followed curiously. Manuals, history books, arcane scrolls…he cracked one, then another, and soon was lost in the pages until Xie Yu dragged him off to bed. All night he felt the press of flesh and an odd disgust sprouted in his mind—a loathing for life itself, and consequently the desire for procreation. In the red candle‑glow, Xie Yu’s body looked like nothing but warm meat, sixth rank meat at that, and the heat of her skin and his own made him recoil, faintly but undeniably. She murmured his name and collapsed against him. He tucked the quilt around her and turned away. “You’re…finished already?” she asked, crestfallen. “Finished?” he echoed, then understood. “Don’t force it,” she whispered. “Lately all I can think about is training,” he admitted. “Oh.” She rolled to the edge of the bed. Li Yuan scooted close, stroked her shoulder, whispered what passed for sweet words—then, mustering himself, completed what he had begun. Xie Yu came to grasp Ximen Gucheng’s heart. He didn’t dislike her, nor did he have a mistress; he was simply absorbed in the blade. Realizing that, she no longer pressed him, and Li Yuan was glad for the tranquility. He cut every social tie, practiced, read, and waited. Compared with Xie Jian’an’s antics, his withdrawn calm only made the whole clan seem odder. Another year flashed past. Li Yuan discovered he was sick. A profound aversion to flesh had taken root; the thought of bodies colliding repelled him, and his body seemed to detest him in turn. He could not see his own soul, yet felt it icing over, an inner chill that never left. Meanwhile, his blood roared hot, his muscles burned, as though fever and frost raged together. In that state nothing in the world could rouse his interest. Yet everything, boiling blood, ice‑cold soul, converged on one thing—the blade. His flesh drove the blade, weaving killing intent into a tangible edge; his soul brooded over the blade, seeing only its arc and possibilities. The two forces clashed and fused all at once. Whenever Li Yuan let go of his blade, pain gnawed at him, body and soul out of sync. The instant his fingers curled around the hilt, calm settled in—fire and frost separated by that single layer of steel. Li Yuan finally laid eyes on his elusive brother‑in‑law. Xie Feng arrived at the year‑end banquet helmeted in black, sheathed in heavy plate armor. He stared vacantly at a platter of beef for half a stick of incense. “Big Brother, you’re home. Eat, will you?” Xie Wei slipped a morsel onto his bowl. She glanced at her brother‑in‑law. There he sat, arms wrapped round his blade, frowning at the feast like a man forcing himself to endure it for appearance’s sake. Beside him, Xie Yu whispered an apology to the Fifth Madam. “He’s thinking about training again.” Two oddballs sat at one table. “Why not seat them together?” Xie Wei suggested. The clan agreed at once; with those two around no one else could enjoy a peaceful meal anyway. Xie Jian’an roared with laughter. “Perfect, let the mutes keep each other company while us lively types make merry.” So Li Yuan and Xie Feng were moved side by side. Xie Feng’s vacant gaze transferred from beef to chicken; Li Yuan saw nothing but slabs of meat. Someone piped up, “General Xie is a prodigy among fifth ranks. How about a little match with our new son‑in‑law?” Interest sparked all around. Li Yuan slowly raised his eyes; the two men met gazes for the first time and rose in unison, heading for the courtyard. “No spirit weapons. Takes the fun out.” Xie Feng said, gripping a long spear. Then he whirled it in a blur. Li Yuan measured him. The man’s combat power was remarkable, roughly on par with Xie Jian’an’s, yet somehow even higher, hovering at 1,505~18, 134. He nodded, blade still sheathed, and stood utterly still. “Ready?” Xie Feng asked. The word had barely left Li Yuan’s lips when the spear darted like a startled dragon. One thrust shot out, followed by a storm of thrusts, so fast the air glittered with pinpoints of light. Li Yuan moved, but unhurriedly. At the exact moment the spear arrived he stepped inside its reach, sliding along the shaft. No amount of source blood could force that point into him now. Xie Feng flicked his wrist; the spear cracked sideways like a dragon whipping its tail, gale roaring. Li Yuan’s scabbard was already there, barring the path. “Graaah!” Xie Feng roared. His source blood flared, and his power doubled. The spear tore the air with bestial howls… Yet somehow the scabbard clung to the shaft, rode along it, was carried harmlessly away. Crash! Boom! The spear carved a thunderous arc but its force died at the limit, flinging Li Yuan back. Except he landed calmly, feet planted, blade finally leaving its sheath. The slash came slower than the spear by a mile, yet it fell upon a wide‑open Xie Feng. Xie Feng hurled himself into a side‑roll, only for the blade to arrive first, already tracing the spot he would occupy. To Li Yuan, the brother‑in‑law was nothing but living meat, and living meat was warm. His frigid soul watched the heat flow, read every twitch, judged angle, stance, vector, etc… Using nothing above an ordinary sixth rank’s strength, he pressed the attack, soul hovering coldly overhead like a god surveying two mere lumps of flesh. Xie Feng had never seen such fighting. He broke away, panting; Li Yuan did not pursue. He simply stroked his blade, a shard of frost glinting along the edge. Suddenly, Xie Feng’s eyes lit up. He tore off helmet, breastplate, and under‑plate, revealing only thin white cloth beneath. Thud, thud, klang! Helm, armor, and gambeson hit the ground with dull, crushing weight. This was proof that the general trained beneath constant burden, every hour of every day. Shedding the last of his armor clearly lifted a weight from Xie Feng’s shoulders. Eyes glued to the blade, he breathed, “Come at me.” Li Yuan studied the spear, tightened his grip on the hilt, and replied, “After you.” He meant to throttle himself down to the level of an average sixth rank. Moments later, the spear’s sideways sweep sent him skidding through the air and over the garden wall. He landed without a scratch. That was because even shackled to sixth rank power, his real ceiling still grazed the realm of fourth rank monsters. He vaulted back inside. “You’re using me as your whetstone, aren’t you?” Xie Feng asked. Discover more novels at novel⸺fire.net Li Yuan nodded. “Your spear deserves it.” “Your power’s fading, though.” “That’s me offering you my finest blade.” “Excellent, again!” Excitement flickered in Xie Feng’s eyes. He glanced at the gawking relatives. “Too many spectators. Somewhere else.” “Fine,” Li Yuan said. Xie Feng scratched his head. “Wait, who are you? I’m pretty sure the Xie Clan doesn’t have someone like—” Behind Li Yuan, Xie Yu’s scowl could kill. She shouted, “Big Brother, he’s my husband!” “Husband?” Xie Feng blinked. “Yu’er, when did you get married?” “Y-you! We even had a wedding!!” Xie Yu spluttered in pure exasperation. Xie Wei laughed. “Over a year ago.” “And nobody invited me?” Xie Feng fumed. Xie Yu huffed, “Darling, beat him up for me later!” Moments later, spear and blade clacked together as the two men strode off, only they never returned that night.