The epiphyllum amid which came the faint breaths, as if it were the hissing of the wind.
Qin Nanxin held the seven-foot-long jade sword diagonally across her right shoulder blade, one hand over the other, gripping the guard and hilt, while her torso bent slightly, her long legs one in front of the other, her left toe lightly touching the ground in an empty stance, her right foot firmly pressing down to draw strength—one glance would liken her to a mantis with its arms raised high, patiently waiting for the moment to pounce on its prey.
However, this sword strike, full of potential energy, did not slash down. At this moment, Qin Nanxin was simply maintaining the sword's pose, practicing her sword technique, holding the stance, staying balanced, and exercising her strength, muscles, and the breathing of her internal organs.