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Nineteenth day of the first lunar month, in the small courtyard behind Wudang Mountains.
"Senior Sister! I did it! I did it!"
Wang Sheng called out joyfully under the clear skies. It had been years since he felt so excited. He immediately used his footwork technique to dash across the uneven ground of the courtyard and into the nearby woods.
Mu Wanxuan, who was sitting in meditation atop the sea of trees, opened her eyes. Looking down, she couldn't help but smile upon finding Wang Sheng holding up a gleaming longsword toward her. His training attire was riddled with holes, making it look just like the pitted ground outside the courtyard gate.
Smoke had blackened his face, and the long hair he had tied up was partially singed, yet he still looked full of joy and satisfaction. His hard work paid off. After fiddling for two days and a half, Wang Sheng had finally refined a decent flying sword.
"Look, Senior Sister!"
Wang Sheng tossed the longsword into the air. The sword immediately flew up and, with a flick of his finger, unleashed a series of elaborate movements. It then hovered back into his palm. With a snap of his right fingers, the flying sword quickly melted and turned into a silver-white sword core about ten centimeters in diameter.
Mu Wanxuan's eyes lit up. She drifted down from the treetop.
Smiling, Wang Sheng handed her the sword...
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