Taming the Merman - Chapter 9

Whether I was an idiot remained uncertain.

Ling Shuxing’s lack of practical experience did not.

After he failed to survive twenty moves, I began questioning Elder Ling’s parenting.

Ling Shuxing was his only child, so the elder naturally spoiled him. He never lacked artifacts or spirit stones, but his father worried too much to let him descend the mountain and train.

He possessed talent and resources, but almost no real combat experience—unless being beaten by me counted.

No one in the sect had read more sword manuals. But what use was memorizing manuals to a sword cultivator?

“Your sword is much faster than last time.” Frowning, Ling Shuxing studied its tip. “And unless I’m mistaken, you fused something unusual into it—something that disrupts an opponent’s mind?”

It really worked?

How could he tell?

My expression confirmed his guess. Despite losing, he looked smug.

“No one understands you and your sword better than I do. It seems you found excellent materials. But if so, your techniques must change, or you’ll never draw out the sword’s full power.”

A true giant—in theory.

My interest flared. His poor combat ability no longer bothered me. Beaming, I helped him up.

“Junior Brother Ling, why don’t you come into my cave and talk awhile?”

How had I never realized he was such a treasure?

Ling Shuxing froze. Whatever occurred to him made his pretty face turn scarlet.

His tongue seemed tied in knots. “I… you… wouldn’t that be improper? I’m not prepared. And it’s still broad daylight…”

I stared at him.

“So what? You can’t analyze sword techniques during the day?”

He went utterly still and gave me a long, incomprehensible look.

Finally, through clenched teeth, he said, “…I can. I certainly can.”

I would gladly support Junior Brother Ling’s claim to being the greatest mind in the sect.

What saint voluntarily took beatings merely to help someone improve her swordplay?

Once I discovered his value, we reached a friendly agreement. I would increase his practical experience, and he would help me develop new techniques.

Everyone benefited!

Ling Shuxing, whose face I had bruised with the flat of my blade and who was frantically swallowing beauty pills, declined to comment.

He nevertheless approached our “trade” with even more enthusiasm than I did, appearing punctually at my cave each day as though afraid I might shirk.

For a long while, we became fixtures in the training arena.

With his help, I grew more attuned to my newly tempered sword and developed several strange techniques around the demon core.

Under my one-sided beatings, Ling Shuxing also learned… well, he learned not to protect only his face.

We both gained something. Probably.

One thing, however, was strange.

Lately, I always encountered Lan Shiyu near the arena.

Whenever I dropped Ling Shuxing in two or three moves and had to suppress my still-raging sword intent, Lan Shiyu happened to be nearby, gently polishing his Clear Water Sword.

Heaven knew how badly I wanted to charge over and fight him.

After its upgrade, I felt terrifyingly powerful. I even dreamed of defeating him.

But…

I looked at my renewed sword, remembered the meteorite iron, and recalled my promise.

Stop troubling him. Be a good person, Xie Wanfeng.

In the end, I dragged Ling Shuxing away so I would no longer be tempted.

I moved too quickly and was busy answering his chatter, so I did not see Lan Shiyu behind us.

His hand tightened around the Clear Water Sword. Its edge opened a long gash in his finger, but he seemed not to notice. He only stared after me.

The clear eyes usually warmed by a gentle smile were now dark and glacial.

“Humans are as fickle as ever…”

He raised his bleeding finger and slowly painted the blood across his lower lip.

Like a ghost bride applying her rouge.