Chapter Forty-Six: A Promising Beginning

April 28th, second year of Lin De. Overcast skies. A thick fog enveloped the world, so dense before dawn that one could not see their own hand before their face. Yet, even in such dreadful weather, nothing could dampen Li Xian’s enthusiasm for martial training. Not even the hour of the Rabbit had arrived when Li Xian was already up, hurriedly washed, ate a few pastries, and rushed off to the small training ground. His steps were urgent; after all, he had endured two and a half months of hard labor and finally awaited the chance for proper martial practice. Li Xian did not expect to become a peerless general, but to acquire some genuine skills for self-defense was worthwhile. Moreover, he hoped to grow closer to Li Boyao and strive to get his hands on the “Duke Wei’s Art of War.” How could he not seize this chance to make a good impression?

“Your Highness, I greet General Li.”

As expected, scarcely had Li Xian exited through the small gate in the western wall of the princely residence when he spotted Li Boyao already waiting on the training ground. Li Xian dared not be remiss; he strode forward quickly, bowed deeply, and greeted him with utmost respect.

“No need.” Li Boyao stepped aside, indicating he would not accept Li Xian’s courtesy, but issued a crisp command: “Your Highness, run five laps around the field.”

Eh? Wasn’t this supposed to be sword training? Why run laps? Li Boyao’s words instantly cooled half of Li Xian’s eager heart. Yet seeing that Li Boyao was not joking, he dared not refuse. With a wry shrug, he set off to run, his complaints kept silent.

“Your Highness, lift the stone weights for ten sets, ten repetitions each.”

Li Xian had barely finished running, not even catching his breath, before Li Boyao issued another order. Ten sets of ten? Just two sets fewer than usual—well, so be it! Having dealt with Li Boyao for some time, Li Xian knew there was no bargaining, nor wanted to waste words. He trudged to the pile of stone locks, stretched his limbs, and began to lift. Fortunately, his recent months of exercise made him nimble; in a little over half an hour, he completed the quota.

“General Li, I have finished lifting. May we begin sword practice now?”

After all that turmoil, Li Xian was panting like an ox, limbs numb and heavy, almost dragging himself back to Li Boyao. After a few deep breaths, he managed a polite smile and asked.

“Tell me, Your Highness, what is a sword?”

Li Boyao did not answer, but instead posed a question with an expressionless face.

“Well, the sword? It is the king of weapons, the instrument of triumph on the battlefield.”

Li Xian had seen many swords—not just the current popular horizontal sword, but the mountain-chopping blades, bayonets, daggers, fruit knives of later ages, countless examples in films and television. Yet when it came to truly explaining the sword, he was at a loss. He could only muster a bold answer.

“Correct. The sword is the lord of all weapons. Only the bold dare wield it. The essence of sword technique lies in its momentum. With a single stroke, thousands retreat. If Your Highness wishes to learn the sword, you must first cultivate that momentum.”

Li Xian had only spoken casually, not entirely confident, but Li Boyao surprisingly agreed, nodding in approval and offering a thorough critique.

“Please, General Li, teach me the sword.”

Hearing this, Li Xian seized the opportunity and eagerly requested instruction.

—

A metallic ring echoed.

Li Boyao did not refuse Li Xian’s request. With a flick of his right hand, he drew the horizontal sword from his waist, his left hand guiding it and pressing firmly on the back. His gaze sharpened as he addressed Li Xian: “Your Highness, observe: this is the army’s standard sword. Its blade is two feet eight inches, width one and a half inches, the body slender as willow, handle half a foot long, weighing fifteen pounds. If you wish to learn swordsmanship, you must first become familiar with the weapon’s nature. Without that, true mastery is impossible.”

“Naturally, I will heed your instruction, General.”

Li Boyao’s words sounded plain, but Li Xian responded with solemnity, bowing to accept the task.

“Very well. Each day, strike this sword a thousand times to familiarize yourself with it.” As Li Xian finished speaking, Li Boyao’s eyes glinted with a hint of mockery. He raised the sword, handed it to Li Xian, and delivered the assignment with a stern face.

“Ah…”

Li Boyao’s words left Li Xian dumbfounded, mouth agape enough to fit a chicken egg.

“What, Your Highness is unwilling to learn?”

Li Boyao paid no mind to Li Xian’s shock, his cold tone cutting through.

A thousand strikes daily? Along with running laps and lifting weights? Will there be any life left in me? Li Xian was about to protest, but upon seeing Li Boyao’s indifferent face, he swallowed his words, gritted his teeth, took up the sword, swung it a few times without much care, and then began hacking away fiercely.

Fifteen pounds was not too heavy; Li Xian had trained for months, easily managing the sword’s weight. But hacking it was another matter. He knew nothing of sword technique, relying solely on brute force. After barely thirty swings, his steps grew shaky, barely able to stand, swaying precariously as if he might collapse at any moment. The sight made the onlookers at the princely residence uneasy.

“Huff, huff, huff…”

Since his rebirth, Li Xian’s character had possessed a certain ruthlessness. Though his limbs were already weak and aching, he persisted stubbornly. But man’s strength has limits; unwilling as he was, after fifty swings, he was utterly exhausted, left only to lean on the sword and gasp for breath.

“When using the sword, lead with the waist, drive with the shoulders, move the arms with the blade. Watch closely!”

Li Boyao had silently observed Li Xian’s wild hacking. When Li Xian could no longer swing, he took the sword from Li Xian, weighed it in his hands, and explained as he demonstrated. With a flash of the blade, a sharp whistle arose, and a fierce, unmatched momentum erupted. It was a stroke that carried the awe of ten thousand warriors.

“Excellent!”
“A fine technique!”

The princely guards, all skilled soldiers, recognized the quality. Seeing Li Boyao’s casual stroke produce such might, they all called out in admiration.

Li Xian, though ignorant of sword techniques, could sense the overwhelming force of Boyao’s cut. His breath caught, swallowing hard, eyes shining with longing—who wouldn’t want such skill? Even if Li Xian’s true aim was to avoid suspicion through martial practice, he never intended to waste his time. Witnessing Boyao’s prowess, his mind wandered with dreams.

“Continue practicing!”

Before Li Xian could indulge in those thoughts, Boyao handed the sword back, commanding him in a steady voice.

“Yes!”

Li Xian took the sword respectfully, slowly raised it, but did not rush to swing. Instead, he pondered Boyao’s earlier advice, finally striking a blow. Though far from Boyao’s power, his posture now bore some resemblance, catching the eye of the watching guards.

Hmm, still not right—the force from the waist isn’t fully applied! Li Xian paid no mind to others’ thoughts, once more raising the sword, comparing his own stroke to Boyao’s, analyzing their differences. After a long while, his gaze hardened, and he delivered a fierce blow. The wind whistled, power surged, and the momentum began to emerge.

“Good!”
“Another stroke!”

Seeing Li Xian’s impressive swing, the guards all cheered him on. Boyao said nothing, but his eyes betrayed surprise and delight. For one so new to swordsmanship, Li Xian’s progress was remarkable—his flaw lay only in strength and speed, not in the intent of the blade. For someone with such innate talent, there was only one word: prodigious! Even Boyao himself did not possess such intuition. To have a student like this brought satisfaction, but remembering Li Xian’s identity, Boyao’s eyes quickly dimmed. He merely watched in silence as Li Xian continued to swing.

Refreshing—utterly refreshing! Though Li Xian was exhausted after a thousand swings, his spirits soared. Not merely because he’d grasped the rudiments of swordsmanship, but more so for the bold energy he felt with each swing, the unstoppable spirit that was precisely what he needed. To cultivate his own momentum while training the sword was a perfect outcome. Even as his arms grew numb, he had no complaints.

Li Xian practiced to the point of forgetting himself; if Boyao had not intervened for fear of injury, Li Xian would never have stopped. That dedication stirred something in Boyao’s heart, though he said little, only reminding Li Xian to practice diligently each day before departing in haste—never noticing the curious smile lingering on Li Xian’s face…