Chapter Ninety-Two: Blossoms Bloom and Fade Again

Seeing that Xiao Nan showed neither panic nor worry, Dong Cheng felt a twinge of disappointment. Turning his head, he caught sight of the person standing beside Coach Yang, and his eyes lit up. He hurried over, ingratiatingly saying, “Senior Jiang, you’re here today as well. Are you going to demonstrate the sword techniques? Please do give me some pointers later.”

“Have you reached the Summer Thunder Sword yet?” Senior Jiang asked impassively.

He’d been wondering why the entrance was so lively today, with so many young girls appearing—quite a pleasing sight, if he were honest. Still, he felt a faint annoyance at being disturbed.

But one does not strike a smiling face. Dong Cheng was being exceedingly deferential, so it would be impolite to ignore him.

Despite his inner aversion, he restrained himself enough to reply. The implication was clear: if you haven’t learned the Summer Sword, what is there for me to advise you on?

“Almost, almost. Today I’m just about to learn the third move of the Spring Sword.”

“I see,” Senior Jiang said noncommittally, neither agreeing to instruct nor refusing outright.

But Dong Cheng was perfectly content with that—no refusal was already a good sign.

He followed obediently behind Senior Jiang, explaining the situation at the scene and relating amusing anecdotes from Yuanjiang No. 1 High School.

He added that these girls had come in admiration of the Four Seasons Sword, and once they witnessed Senior Jiang’s prowess, their motivation to learn would surely soar.

...

“Dong Cheng may not be the most pleasant speaker, but his information is usually accurate,” said Xiong Bing from the side.

“You’re here too?” Xiao Nan was indeed surprised. He could understand why these passionate first-year girls had come to learn the Four Seasons Sword—people tend to follow the crowd. Dong Cheng’s attendance was no surprise, as he was already enrolled in the class.

But what about Xiong Bing?

Xiao Nan remembered that Xiong Bing practiced the Ten Swords of Dripping Blood, though his execution never quite lived up to the name. He was a classic example of mismatched temperament and talent.

“I just prefer more refined martial techniques,” Xiong Bing said.

As long as he enjoyed it, that was fine. Xiao Nan didn’t try to persuade him further.

What puzzled him was why Xiong Bing kept approaching him, intentionally or otherwise revealing bits of intelligence. What was he really after?

Xiong Bing’s honest, broad face was misleading; one might assume he was straightforward, but in truth, he was not.

His eyes flickered with a strange light. “You might have guessed, Xiao Nan, that the switch from the blood vitality trial to the Violent Ape Puppet was Vice Principal Lin’s suggestion. It’s a minor matter—meant to enforce stricter standards, no one objected.”

“I know,” Xiao Nan replied.

Some might think it excessive to go to such lengths just to suppress a single student.

But Xiao Nan understood that some people simply could not be judged by common sense. When anger took hold, even the most outrageous actions were possible.

Xiong Bing grinned. “I know you have your secrets. You’re confident you’ll pass the blood vitality trial, so you think Vice Principal Lin’s efforts are in vain. But if you think that way, you’ll be caught off guard.”

“Oh?” That was indeed what Xiao Nan had been thinking.

Though he hadn’t tested his blood vitality recently, he estimated it was at least 4.0. With seven days left and a supply of remaining Primordial Grass, he could push it even higher. Even if he didn’t reach the 5.0 ceiling, he’d be close enough; his strength would likely surpass 1,500 pounds. For a third-year martial student who hadn’t yet broken through to first-grade martial artist, that was an extraordinary level.

No matter what countermeasures they had in store, it would all be pointless.

“But suppose, just suppose, the puppet couldn’t be bested even by a martial artist. Would you still be so confident?” Xiong Bing said, his tone mysterious.

Who knew where he got his information? He always put on airs when he spoke, but later events usually proved he wasn’t lying.

Xiao Nan grew more cautious. “Is what you say true? There’ll be so many people watching.”

“Some people’s character is not to be trusted—you’d be surprised what they’re capable of. There’s something else you might find interesting: the school’s equipment department head was personally promoted by Vice Principal Lin Anguo…”

Xiao Nan grew more and more curious about Xiong Bing’s sources. He seemed like a veritable font of gossip, knowing a little about everything—even the potential underhanded tricks of Lin Anguo.

If he still took Xiong Bing for an ordinary classmate, he’d have to be brainless.

“Why are you telling me all this? I recall we’ve barely spoken these past two years.”

Not only had they not been friends, they’d hardly exchanged a word.

“Crows aren’t born destined to be crows—sometimes they want to soar and become phoenixes,” Xiong Bing replied with a wry smile. Though only eighteen, he seemed to carry the weary air of someone twice his age. “I signed up, too. After I saw you use the Four Seasons Sword that day, I realized it wasn’t so simple after all! It actually suits me.”

With that, perhaps fearing Xiao Nan would press him for more, or that he’d inadvertently reveal secrets, Xiong Bing quickly fled to the front desk to complete his registration.

Amid the lively commotion, someone called out for all the students to assemble—the class was about to begin.

“To become a phoenix, is it?” Xiao Nan gazed at Xiong Bing’s departing back, thinking to himself that the other was destined for disappointment. He was clearly after the Qin family’s favor; what could the Xiao family possibly offer?

Nothing.

Apart from secrets he kept hidden, there was only his mother and younger sister—impoverished, powerless.

Whatever Xiong Bing was after, whether he was trying to curry favor or gamble on a future favor from the Qin family, he was bound to be let down.

After all, even Xiao Nan himself had never considered relying on the Qin family’s influence.

Tan Qiuyi was right—one shouldn’t accrue favors lightly, even if they could be repaid; there was no need to owe them in the first place.

Living a second life, if he couldn’t succeed on his own, wouldn’t that be shameful?

That aside, the most important thing was his confidence in himself—and in the bronze mirror hidden within his body or soul.

Depending on others for strength? He’d never even considered it.

He had only one plan: to sweep everything aside with overwhelming force.

No matter what schemes were hatched, they were all worthless before absolute strength.

He might not be strong enough yet, but that day was not far off.

“Let’s go, time for class,” Xiao Nan called to Zhang Xiaorou.

The girl had been waiting eagerly at a distance, not daring to approach while Xiao Nan spoke with Xiong Bing, obedient as could be.

Her bright, limpid eyes, wet like a fawn’s, made one’s heart melt with tenderness.

“Okay,” Zhang Xiaorou hurried after him.

...

“Some students may not have learned the first two Spring Sword moves. No rush—you can start from the third,” Instructor Yang began.

Though a little stiff and lacking in expression, his lessons were meticulous and considerate of the students’ feelings.

“The three Spring Swords are not progressive; each represents a different phenomenon and mood: spring wind, spring rain, and spring flowers. Now that summer has just begun, there are still a few lingering blossoms—remember the scene. Today, I’ll be teaching the ‘Withering Blossoms’ move, which concerns the flowers.”

He wasted no time with superfluous words.

Instructor Yang first demonstrated the technique slowly, then executed it again at speed, white petals seeming to bloom around him.

As the sword light scattered, petals whirled on the wind—flowers withered and bloomed anew, again and again.

It was a breathtaking sight.

All thirty-nine students applauded in unison, especially the girls, some of whom squealed in delight, their faces flushed with excitement.

“So beautiful!”

“It’s gorgeous!”

“Even if it’s not powerful, just learning such a lovely sword move is worth the twenty thousand yuan!”

Hearing such comments, Instructor Yang’s mouth twitched in a wry smile.

He’d expected this.

In Yuanjiang City, no one believed the Four Seasons Sword had any real combat value. Its reputation was middling at best, and not built by this branch. Anyone with ambition would have chosen another school.

“Alright, next I’ll break down the ‘Withering Blossoms’ move into three segments and nine forms. Pay close attention,” Instructor Yang continued.

Truth be told, he himself had little faith in the three Spring Swords—he found them flashy but lacking substance, though he dared not say so. Nor was he alone: his top student, Jiang Lin, was visibly indifferent. Yang knew Jiang Lin only cared for the Summer Swords—Thunder, Rainstorm, and Blazing Sun—or perhaps the Autumn and Winter forms, which boasted true destructive power.

But Xiao Nan did not see it that way.

He was genuinely surprised, thinking he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure.

Only after mastering all three Spring Swords did the true nature of the set reveal itself; the swordplay was far more profound than he’d imagined.

Earlier, watching Instructor Yang demonstrate ‘Withering Blossoms,’ he had been a little disappointed, but he memorized it nonetheless.

In secret, he projected his mind into the misty space, expending a bit of energy to rehearse the move three or four times in his mind and analyze the technique.

Then he discovered something very peculiar.