Chapter 14: Ye Ming’s Classroom

After shaking off Li Mao and the others, Bai Yueying did not immediately set out toward the next energy point sensed by Ye Ming.

She found a relatively concealed crevice between rocks, and only after confirming her surroundings were safe did she allow herself to relax a little.

The recent events had left her nerves stretched taut, and her spiritual energy was not in great supply.

From her storage pouch, she took out the long sword she had just seized, her fingers brushing over its cold blade.

The sword was quite ordinary—a standard-issue weapon for outer-sect disciples—but during that brief skirmish earlier, she had faintly sensed something different.

It wasn’t the sword itself, but rather, in the moment of use, as if some intangible will had attached itself to it, making her movements smoother and her strikes more precise.

“How did you do that just now?”

Bai Yueying asked silently in her heart, trying to clarify that subtle feeling.

“Hm? Do what?”

Ye Ming seemed to have just been pulled out of a state of savoring something, his tone tinged with lazy satisfaction, clearly still digesting the earlier gains.

“Influence this sword,” Bai Yueying said succinctly.

“Oh, that,” Ye Ming replied, sounding as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“It’s simple, really. This sword, at its core, is just a piece of forged metal. Its internal structure always has points of strength and weakness.”

“My perception now can barely grasp the essentials. When you exerted force, I ‘nudged’ along its strongest internal lines.”

“Or, when you blocked, I ‘supported’ the stress points a little. Isn’t that both easier and more effective?”

He spoke as if it were nothing special.

But Bai Yueying felt a tremor in her heart.

This was by no means easy!

It required an extremely subtle insight and mastery over material, structure, and power flow.

This sword was not Ye Ming’s own body—yet he could still influence it so delicately from a distance?

“What’s so hard about that?” Sensing her astonishment, Ye Ming sounded a little puzzled.

“It’s like building blocks—just find the key stress points, right?”

“When you sword cultivators train, don’t you study how to use your strength most efficiently for the best effect?”

“I’ve watched you practice—so many of your movements rely on old habits, too stiff and rigid, not agile at all.”

Bai Yueying hesitated—force application techniques?

Cultivators, when they trained, placed more emphasis on spiritual energy flow, sword forms, and breakthroughs in cultivation.

As for the micro-skills of purely physical exertion and weapon control, unless one specialized in body refinement or a unique weapon, it was true that few delved deeply. Most relied mainly on spiritual energy augmentation.

“Isn’t it a waste to just brute-force everything with spiritual energy?”

“Take when you snatched the sword earlier: when you hooked his wrist with your fingers, didn’t your forearm tense first, then the force travel to your fingertips?”

“If you’d twisted your waist and abdomen just a little at the same time, wouldn’t it have been quicker and steadier?”

“And when you dodged that natural sword energy, your body twisted fast, but your footing was unstable.”

“If you’d landed on your toes and let the force dissipate naturally, wouldn’t you have saved effort and been able to counterattack more quickly?”

He spoke tirelessly, using the most basic terms Bai Yueying could understand.

No technical jargon, but his words went straight to the subtle flaws in her usual sword practice—things she’d never even noticed.

Some points even seemed at odds with her foundational sword forms, but upon reflection, they felt more logical and efficient.

Without realizing it, she mimicked the wrist hook, trying to engage her waist and abdomen, and found it indeed smoother and swifter.

She also recalled her movement when dodging sword energy, adjusted her center of gravity and focus, and realized she could save considerable effort and better set up her next move.

This... was a completely different way of thinking.

Not relying on the strength of spiritual energy, but seeking the utmost efficiency in the use of force.

“In short, don’t use brute force—use finesse,” Ye Ming summarized. “Spiritual energy is like firewood—the brighter it burns, the better, but you have to stack it where it’s most needed, not throw it in haphazardly.”

“You wouldn’t use the same force or angle to chop wood as you would to carve jade, would you?”

It was a simple analogy, but strikingly apt.

Bai Yueying fell into deep thought.

She remembered her previous fight with the sword-fiend spirit—if Ye Ming hadn’t directed her to its weak points, she likely wouldn’t have won.

Her conflict with Li Mao and the others was also only resolved by precise timing and efficient use of strength.

Behind these seemingly clever tricks, there seemed to be a hidden law of “efficiency.”

Ye Ming’s “common knowledge” was, to her, like opening a door to a new world.

Was it possible to think about combat in this way?

“Of course, I’m just the theorist; when it comes to real fighting, it’s all on you,” Ye Ming added, his tone slipping back into its usual irreverence.

“So, Handler, you’d better work hard and find me some good stuff to nourish myself. The stronger I get, the more I’ll be able to ‘see’ and ‘help’ you with.”

Bai Yueying pulled herself from her reverie, deliberately ignoring his latter words.

She clenched her fist, feeling her spiritual energy steadily recovering from his feedback, and those new insights into force and technique echoing in her mind.

She picked up the long sword again, no longer just to get a feel for it.

Instead, she tried to adjust her grip and posture according to Ye Ming’s guidance.

She paid attention to muscle coordination when channeling spiritual energy, and the shifting of her center of gravity as she changed steps.

At first, it was awkward—even less fluid than before.

But gradually, a sense of unprecedented control began to emerge.

The sword no longer felt like a cold foreign object, but like an extension of her arm. Each swing consumed less spiritual energy, yet produced more concentrated effects.

“Yes, just like that—relax your wrist a bit more, let your footwork keep up,” Ye Ming offered live commentary, his words many but always striking true.

So this strange “classroom” unfolded quietly in a dangerous, silent corner of Swordfall Valley.

One taught casually but to the essence; the other learned with utmost seriousness and remarkable insight.

After a long time, Bai Yueying finally stopped, sweat beading at her brow, but her gaze brighter than ever.

This session was no less grueling than a fierce battle, and the gains just as great.

“A teachable pupil indeed,” Ye Ming commented with affected gravity.

Then, unable to contain himself, he urged, “That’s enough for now—time to put it into practice!”

Bai Yueying sheathed her sword and looked into the depths ahead.

After this “lesson,” the restlessness that had come with her recent successes and increased strength gradually settled.

In its place was a deeper calm and firmer confidence.

She regulated her breathing, and stepped forward.