Meanwhile.
Ever since his visit to Gu Chengming's courtyard, Elder Liu Enchuan of the Disciplinary Hall had been visibly, unmistakably in a good mood.
The face that normally looked like it had been carved from stone had thawed into something almost sunny. The steward disciples who passed him in the corridors exchanged bewildered glances, whispering among themselves — had Elder Liu recently made some breakthrough in his cultivation? Stumbled onto a rare opportunity?
In a manner of speaking, he had indeed stumbled onto a treasure.
The first thing Liu Enchuan did upon returning to the Disciplinary Hall was pull up every file they had on Gu Chengming.
When he saw that the boy had gone three full years without claiming a single sect resource, he exhaled and thought: of course.
If he'd been forgoing resources to temper his sword intent in bitter, solitary practice, then it made perfect sense that he'd still be at the First Realm, Third Layer after all this time.
In his excitement, Liu Enchuan had even entertained the thought of taking Gu Chengming as a personal disciple.
He'd gone so far as to mentally draft the entire ceremony — picturing just how he'd show off in front of the other elders.
But once the excitement cooled, he'd quietly strangled the idea.
Liu Enchuan was the Disciplinary Elder, yes, and he'd reached the Third Realm — but he knew himself better than anyone. Most of his cultivation had been built on time and resources, not insight. His swordsmanship was polished, certainly, but only polished — the cutting edge of ambition had long since gone dull.
Teaching ordinary disciples was one thing. But facing a rough gem like Gu Chengming...
"Forget it," Liu Enchuan sighed, shaking his head.
"If I forced him into my tutelage and tried to teach him with my mediocre methods, I'd only be doing him harm. I'd be ruining a rare talent."
A genius like that needed a true master to guide him.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a burst of warm laughter rolled in from outside the hall.
"Junior Brother, word is you've been in fine spirits lately — something good happen to you?"
The voice arrived before the person did.
A moment later, an elder in grey robes stepped through the doorway — hair and beard entirely white, but complexion ruddy and vigorous.
This was the Grand Elder of Huiyuan Gate, and Liu Enchuan's senior brother: Ren Wencai.
"Senior Brother." Liu Enchuan hurried to his feet to greet him, personally pouring a cup of spirit tea.
"It's not exactly good news — more of an interesting discovery. I was actually hoping to talk it over with you."
The two settled into their seats, exchanging a few words about recent sect affairs.
Ren Wencai took a sip of tea. He could see Liu Enchuan's expression perfectly — the look of a man trying and failing to hold back a brag — and chuckled.
"All right, stop dancing around it. What could possibly have you grinning like that?"
Seeing the moment was right, Liu Enchuan dropped the pretense.
He set down his teacup, and his expression turned serious.
"Senior Brother — do you believe there are people in this world whose cultivation realm is low, and yet can fight above their level purely through swordsmanship? Whose understanding of the sword path far outstrips any normal measure?"
Ren Wencai blinked, then let out an amused laugh.
"Junior Brother, are you pulling my leg? Fighting above one's level isn't unheard of. But a low cultivation base paired with an understanding of the sword that transcends one's realm — that's..."
It might happen in other sects. But in Wenjian Sect, cultivation method and sword mastery were deeply, structurally linked. One mirrored the other.
"I didn't believe it either. Not at first."
Liu Enchuan gave a rueful smile, then laid everything out — Jiang Lu's report, and his own undercover visit disguised as a man named "Liu En" — every detail, from start to finish.
When he described Gu Chengming's sword style — that relentless, bone-deep clinginess, like a leech that refused to let go — and that final strike that had appeared from nowhere, as effortless as an antelope resting its horns on a branch, his voice still carried a note of genuine awe.
"That last sword — if I hadn't forced a counter at the last instant using the weight of my cultivation, I would have embarrassed myself badly."
Listening to his junior brother's account, Ren Wencai's smile slowly faded, replaced by a look of quiet contemplation.
He knew Liu Enchuan's character well.
The man was pragmatic to a fault, even a little rigid. He was absolutely not the type to exaggerate or tell tall tales.
If he was willing to say all this — even willing to humble himself by going in disguise to investigate — then this was almost certainly real.
Sensing his senior brother's interest kindling, Liu Enchuan pressed on while the fire was hot.
"Senior Brother, the boy's talent is extraordinary, and his temperament rarer still. I know my own limitations — I can't teach him. But you're different. You've immersed yourself in the sword path for over a century. If you were to take him as your final closed-door disciple and guide him with care, he could become the cornerstone of our Huiyuan Gate one day!"
Liu Enchuan's arithmetic was simple enough: if Senior Brother took the disciple, Gu Chengming would be his own martial nephew — practically family. Why let a good thing go to someone outside their circle?
What he hadn't expected, however, was that Ren Wencai listened to the whole pitch, fell into a brief silence, and then slowly shook his head.
"No."
"Why not?" Liu Enchuan startled. "Is it because his cultivation realm is too low?"
"No."
Ren Wencai waved a hand.
"Junior Brother, you see one side of things. There's another side you're missing."
"If what you've described is accurate — three years without claiming resources, willingly grinding away at his sword intent at a low realm, his technique emerging as something wholly natural — then the path he's walking is likely not the ordinary one."
Liu Enchuan was puzzled. "Then what path is it?"
Ren Wencai drew a slow breath, and exhaled four words:
"The Ancient Path of Bitter Sword."
"Bitter Sword?"
Liu Enchuan's brow furrowed. The term was unfamiliar to him.
Ren Wencai nodded, and began to speak.
"In ancient times, sword cultivators walked many roads — some absorbed the essence of the sun and moon, some refined rare treasures of heaven and earth. But the lineage of Bitter Sword was different from all of them."
"Its teaching was this: the more the body suffers, the stronger the will becomes; the more the heart is stilled, the sharper the sword grows. This is not a method for refining weapons — it is a method for refining the heart and proving the Dao. It uses boundless hardship as a whetstone to hone that single spark of innate spiritual sword intent that dwells within."
He looked at Liu Enchuan.
"Practitioners of this lineage typically advance at an agonizing crawl in the early stages — sometimes going years or even decades without a single step forward. To an outsider's eye, they look like rotten wood and stubborn stone. But in truth, they are building up pressure. They are nurturing the sword."
"And once they reach that critical threshold..."
Ren Wencai paused. A distant gleam passed through his eyes.
"Wenjian Sect once had a great cultivator who walked exactly this path — and in a single night broke through three major realms consecutively. As they say: though tribulations pile upon tribulations, the sword sings of itself."
Liu Enchuan knew exactly who his senior brother was referring to — the true cultivator known as the Fate-Reversing Tribulation-Severing Sovereign. In the entire history of Wenjian Sect from its founding to today, that figure had written one of the most brilliant chapters of all.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
"Senior Brother, are you saying... that this Gu Chengming is walking the same path as that person?"
"Nine times out of ten."
Ren Wencai stroked his beard with an air of profound mystery.
"If you were to take him as a disciple in the conventional sense and pass on techniques, you'd only be disrupting his Dao-heart. For a seedling of the Bitter Sword, the best form of guidance is no guidance at all. Let him comprehend through suffering. Let him be tempered at the edge of his limits."
Liu Enchuan nodded along rapidly, a wave of belated relief washing over him.
"Thank goodness I didn't do anything rash. As always, Senior Brother sees further than I do."
If he had acted on impulse and brought Gu Chengming under his wing — stuffing him with pills every day, forcing him to drill flashy sword moves — wouldn't that have made him the man who smothered a genius in the cradle?
But then Liu Enchuan's brow creased again, and a troubled look crossed his face.
"What you say is absolutely right, Senior Brother. But the Ancient Path of Bitter Sword, for all its power, hinges on a single moment of enlightenment — letting what was stored surge forth all at once. The problem is... the sect's disciple evaluation is almost upon us."
He tapped the report sitting on his desk.
"The evaluation has hard requirements. Fail to meet the cultivation threshold and you're out, no exceptions. Gu Chengming is still at the First Realm, Third Layer. No matter how brilliant his swordplay is, by the rules he won't pass. And if he gets expelled, then all this Bitter Sword business, all this stored-up enlightenment — it all comes to nothing, doesn't it?"
Ren Wencai listened, then smiled serenely and waved it aside.
"Don't worry. Leave that matter to me."
The moment those words landed, Liu Enchuan went pale.
"Senior Brother! Don't do anything reckless!"
He dropped his voice to a hiss. "The disciple evaluation has inner-sect elders stationed there to personally oversee and monitor everything. If you were caught pulling strings or fixing results, what face would Huiyuan Gate ever have left in the sect? The scandal would be enormous!"
"What do you take your Senior Brother for?"
Watching his junior brother look like the sky was falling, Ren Wencai couldn't help but laugh.
He reached over and clapped Liu Enchuan on the shoulder, gesturing for him to calm down.
"Relax. I'm not going to fix anything."
"Just watch."
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