On Xu Wang Mountain, within a secluded, private courtyard.
A sword's light flashed like a dragon, whistling through the air.
Wu Anren's figure dodged and weaved. The Long Sword in his hand was at times like a gentle spring rain, fine and continuous, seeping into every crack. At other times, it was like a thunderclap from the high heavens, swift and explosive.
He wielded two completely different styles of Superior Swordsmanship with perfect ease, transitioning between them seamlessly. The sharp Sword Astral sliced through the air with a soft TSSS TSSS sound, leaving a series of sword marks of varying depths on the ground. Yet, he cleverly avoided the flowers and plants in the courtyard, a display of his exquisite and meticulous control.
Not far away, a beautiful maidservant in a light green dress stood quietly in attendance. She held a tray with a warm towel and a cup of throat-soothing tea.
