A Single Slash to Shake the World

Qiao Wei thought for a moment and said, "This humble one dares not presume too much, but judging from Lady Du's temperament, it's likely she'll remain neutral."

"That's exactly what I thought." Third Young Master nodded. "But even if she remains neutral now, what if I kill her parents and brother? You think she'd still sit on the fence then?"

"That'd be a different story. She'd probably come after you with everything she's got."

"Exactly. That's why, even though I've already got her in my hands now, I know there's no future between us." A tinge of regret flickered in his tone. "Since I'll probably have to part ways with her eventually—hell, I might even have to kill her—what's the point in lingering in her bed? Might as well get the job done and pull up my pants."

Qiao Wei was speechless.

He hadn't expected the Third Young Master to go through such a long analysis of Jianghu politics just to explain why he didn't spend the night in Lady Du's boudoir.

The way the Qin family thinks... truly a breed apart, he thought in awe. He wasn't alone—Qiao Qitian, a respected elder of the Demon Sect, also held Third Young Master in deep admiration.

"This chaotic Jianghu..." Third Young Master downed another cup of wine and sighed deeply. "Is about to be flipped on its head again... Heh. So what if the sky falls? I, the Third Young Master, will hold it up with both hands! Whoever hurt my Second Brother—I'll tear them to pieces and scatter their ashes to the wind!" A chilling smirk spread across his lips, and a hellish gleam lit up in his eyes, sending a shiver down Qiao Wei's spine.

"Brilliant! Young Master, you are a man of true valor!" Qiao Wei praised, a well-placed bootlick.

"Hehehe... Once I've settled this mess, my name will shake the world. And then—hehehe—all those beauty-loving, hero-worshipping ladies? They'll be throwing themselves at me, begging me to take them!" His boast was followed by a lascivious grin.

"Such lofty ambition, Young Master. Truly inspiring!" Qiao Wei responded, trying not to laugh.

The Morning of the Sword

At dawn, Lingyun Mountain was draped in a thin mist. A breeze blew gently through the air as the sleepy sunlight struggled through the haze, casting a lazy glow over the picturesque Xiaoyao Manor.

In the rear courtyard, Qin Feng—known across the realm as the Star River Sword Saint—was practicing his swordsmanship.

Yet the moves he practiced didn't belong to any known school. Not even his famed Star River Sword Technique made an appearance.

His footwork was unsteady and seemingly random, and his blade danced wildly—slashing east, thrusting west—like a man chopping wood or butchering pigs rather than performing elegant swordplay.

There was no glow, no sword aura, not even the faintest whisper of steel cutting air.

Just then, Qin Xiaoyao arrived with a birdcage in hand, strolling leisurely into the courtyard. When he saw his son's erratic movements, his brows furrowed deeply.

"Ah Feng! What the hell are you doing? Is that your idea of practicing swordsmanship?"

Startled, Qin Feng immediately sheathed his sword and stepped forward with a bow. "Father. You look to be in good spirits today."

Qin Xiaoyao snorted. "My mood was fine—until I saw that. You call that sword practice? You're the Star River Sword Saint! If people saw the nonsense you were just doing, your reputation would be in ruins."

Qin Feng smiled nonchalantly. "Father, if I may ask—what exactly is swordsmanship?"

Qin Xiaoyao blinked. "What kind of question is that? Are you planning to create a new sword style?"

Qin Feng shook his head. "I only ask because I wish to understand—what defines true swordsmanship?"

Qin Xiaoyao began to reply, but paused. Swordsmanship... the art of the sword. There were countless styles in the world, each one refined over generations. But which one could be called the true swordsmanship?

Every sect believed their method supreme. Even the so-called best swordsman in the world wouldn't dare claim his style as the true sword.

Seeing his father hesitate, Qin Feng smiled again. "To be honest, I don't fully understand it myself. But I once heard something from my younger brother—he said, 'A sword is a weapon of death. No matter how refined, it's still just a tool for killing. And swordsmanship? It's just technique for killing. If one move can kill—why waste time on a thousand?'"

Qin Xiaoyao's eyes widened. "Little Third... said that?"

Qin Feng nodded. "Yes. I've long pursued the ultimate realm of swordsmanship, but always felt something was missing. After that conversation with my brother, everything suddenly became clear. I took a huge step forward."

"One move to kill... One move to kill..." Qin Xiaoyao muttered, then suddenly exclaimed, "Impossible! To kill with one move, you must vastly outpower your opponent. If a man without inner strength faces a grandmaster with a hundred years of cultivation, he'd be killed instantly—even if he knew some secret technique!"

"I considered that too," Qin Feng replied. "But then I realized—raw power doesn't always decide a battle."

He drew his Seven Stars Crescent Sword and took out a thin slip of paper.

"Father, which is sharper—this sword, or this paper?"

Qin Xiaoyao laughed. "That's a joke, right? This sword is one of the Seven Divine Weapons of the realm. That piece of paper couldn't even scratch skin."

Qin Feng continued, "Could you cut a tree with this paper?"

Qin Xiaoyao scoffed, "With my strength, I could kill with a falling leaf. Of course I could."

"But not everyone has your power, Father. If a normal man swung this divine sword, he could still chop down a tree with brute strength. But could that same man drive this paper into a tree?"

"Ridiculous! Not even one in a million could do that."

Qin Feng shook his head. "You're mistaken. Anyone can—if they know how."

"Is that so?"

Without another word, Qin Feng approached a young tree. Holding the edge of the paper, he flicked his wrist. The paper slipped into the tree's bark silently—sinking halfway in like a hot knife through butter.

"Did you see that?"

Qin Xiaoyao rushed over and examined the embedded paper. There was no trace of internal energy—only precise control.

In disbelief, he tugged the paper—it tore apart instantly.

"It's just ordinary white paper," Qin Feng said. "No inner strength was used. My wrist strength is above average, yes—but wrist strength can be trained. Inner power? That's another matter entirely. Paper can kill. Swords can break. What matters—is the method."

"But... how?"

"It's all about speed, angle, and targeting the weakest point," Qin Feng explained. "I once saw a servant accidentally slice their finger open with a book page. The cut was clean, surgical. That's when I truly understood what Third Brother meant."

Qin Xiaoyao fell into deep thought. A whole new world of martial possibility unfurled before his eyes.

"Every person has a weak spot. Every technique has a flaw," Qin Feng said with shining eyes. "If you can find that flaw, and strike it with the right move, even the strongest master can be brought down. That is the fatal move Little Third spoke of!"

The sword saint had grasped a truth buried in a madman's rants—thus, a path to divine swordsmanship had begun to shine.

Qin Xiaoyao trembled, then let out a roaring laugh that echoed through the mountains, blowing away the morning mist above Xiaoyao Manor.

"My Xiaoyao Manor is now truly... unrivaled beneath the heavens!" he declared, striking a nearby tree with a gentle palm.

The tree didn't move.

He turned away without another glance. "Ah Feng," he called, "this afternoon, head down the mountain. The Jianghu grows turbulent. Though Ah Ren is gifted, he cannot face the storm alone. Go and support him. The world... needs new blood."

"Yes, Father," Qin Feng replied solemnly, bowing as he watched his father leave.

Once Qin Xiaoyao disappeared, Qin Feng approached the tree and gently brushed its trunk. The entire tree disintegrated into strands of wood, fine as silk, floating silently into the sky.

As the wind picked up, the wood fibers scattered cleanly into the mountain air.

Staring at the dancing fragments—white, gray, and emerald—Qin Feng whispered, "To hold up the heavens with one hand... My Qin family... will rise to rule the martial world at last."