Sword That Spoke First
Lao Duan, already aware of the curse placed upon Yu Sui, approached him that day not by chance, but under the instructions of his father, Lin Chaoyuan.
The moment he laid eyes on Yu Sui, he tried to provoke him.
With a cold smirk, Lao Duan spat out,
"Ohh..... Look at the ..... Cursed puppet…"
Those words echoed like venom through the air.
Later, the young men of the ming jing men sect had also reached to go to the academy but on the way they met these people
A cultivators from the Ming Jing Men Sect, among them were Mo Yan's future twenty disciples, and even Su Nian was present.
The situation was deteriorating by the second.
For someone to insult Yu Sui, and Mo Yan to remain silent?
That… was something simply not possible in this lifetime.
With barely a flick of his finger, like brushing aside a feather, Mo Yan gently pushed Yu Sui behind him.
Then .... like a shadow leaping to shield light
Mo Yan drew his sword and stood as a living shield in front of Yu Sui.
Su Nian immediately stepped in, trying to control the storm.
He moved between them .. calming Mo Yan, persuading Lao Duan and his followers ....
But what the elders say :
"You may catch the hand that strikes…
but who can silence a poisonous tongue?"
Lao Duan's lips kept spilling curses.
"Cursed puppet!"
"He's nothing but a vessel for misfortune…"
"He shouldn't even exist…"
Just as Yu Sui's hand began reaching for his sword…
Mo Yan had already moved.
No one saw when .. or how ... he struck.
His speed was so terrifying, Lao Duan didn't even realize where or when his own sword was disarmed.
It was gone ... vanished from his hand as if the wind had stolen it.
But Lao Duan was not one to retreat.
He grabbed a companion's blade, and without hesitation, lunged toward Yu Sui from Mo Yan's side.
What followed was not a brawl…
…it was a duel worthy of legends.
Steel clashed, spirit surged, and blades danced.
Right before everyone's eyes, Mo Yan transformed into a warrior of supreme level.
Every attack, every slash ... he blocked them with such elegance, such precision ... that it was as if he was weaving a melody with his blade. He once again proved that he is a master of sword art
Lao Duan's sword couldn't even graze a single strand of Mo Yan's hair
let alone get close to Yu Sui.
Mo Yan wasn't just a swordsman
He was a protector, a silent sentinel, a guardian shaped by pain and loyalty.
Yu Sui tried to stop him ... pleaded through his eyes.
But the battlefield was no longer in anyone's control.
The entire crowd had erupted into chaos. Gasps, whispers, and awe filled the air.
That's when the Academy's senior officials arrived.
For a moment, they too stood in disbelief.
Mo yan
"A youth… this young…
and such mastery over the sword?"
Eventually, the fight was brought to a halt.
But Mo Yan's eyes .... still blazing with fury spoke louder than any words:
"Had the officials not arrived...
I would have ended him
for daring to insult Yu Sui."
His rage had reached its peak
yet even in that moment…
…when he turned to Yu Sui…
…his touch was gentler than silk,
as if brushing snow off a blossom.
He looked at Yu Sui ... with love. With pain. With fire.
And Yu Sui ... in that fleeting, silent moment
He couldn't understand why Mo Yan was doing so much for him even though he didn't know his feelings Mo Yan doesn't even know if Yu Sui likes him or not, still he comes to yu suie rescue every time without saying anything
Both felt the warmth of a bond that no blade could sever.