Chapter Five: The Black Tiger Saber Technique (Part Two)

Seeing this scene, a gleam of joy flashed in Yang Ze’s eyes—indeed, martial arts techniques could be perfectly replicated within the black stone. He had only just begun cultivating the Black Tiger Blade technique, yet the gray figure’s demonstration was already as smooth and fluid as if practiced for decades.

Watching the gray figure perform the technique over and over, Yang Ze soon followed suit. Though he had no blade in hand, that did not stop him from imitating the gray figure’s every move. Again and again, within this mysterious space, two figures moved in tandem without rest.

A profound, unfathomable power permeated this space; every time Yang Ze practiced here, he found it noticeably easier than in the outside world. As he practiced the Black Tiger Blade once more, referencing the illustrated postures recorded in his booklet, the ache in his body lessened, and he managed to complete several movements he had previously struggled with.

Still, Yang Ze was no prodigy. He could not achieve the gray figure’s mastery in a single session and had to sit and rest when he could no longer continue. Even as he sat aside, he did not relax fully, but instead watched the gray figure’s every move intently, studying the subtleties of the Black Tiger Blade.

The Sea Heart Sutra had become a perfect version in the gray figure’s hands; surely the Black Tiger Blade would also reveal new depths in this form.

...

Time slipped by slowly. The world spun before his eyes—the space vanished, and Yang Ze’s consciousness returned to his body.

“Another three hours. It seems I can only remain in the black stone for three hours at a time,” Yang Ze remarked, glancing at the incense stick in the corner, now nearly burned out.

Through repeated observation, he’d found that his longest stay within the black stone was three hours; after that, the mysterious space would cast him out, and he would have to wait another three hours before he could re-enter.

Though short, those three hours had been fruitful—he had observed much. Since he hadn’t mastered even the first move of the Black Tiger Blade, the gray figure had only performed the initial technique: Tiger Kill.

What he saw was that the Tiger Kill replicated by the black stone was simplified compared to the one in the booklet; the movements were more concise, easier to learn, yet even more powerful.

Without wasting time, Yang Ze began to practice while the memory was still vivid in his mind.

Within the small house, a figure moved with purpose. In the flickering candlelight, his eyes shone with determination, each strike delivered with all his strength.

...

Three days later, as Yang Ze was practicing in the courtyard, a knock sounded at the gate. The door opened, and Old Xie entered, carrying a long black bundle on his back.

He set the bundle before Yang Ze and pulled back the black cloth, revealing a broadsword, two feet in length.

Yang Ze gripped the hilt with his right hand; immediately, he sensed its weight. With a light swing, he drew the blade from its sheath and slashed toward the side.

“Not bad—sturdy and sharp,” Yang Ze said with satisfaction, his gaze lingering on the edge.

“This was forged by Wang the blacksmith in South City, using only the finest materials. More than enough for your blade practice, Second Young Master,” Old Xie replied. After Yang Ze had asked him days ago for a better blade, he had promptly contacted the blacksmith and had this fine weapon made.

“By the way, I’ll need to drill with it regularly, do some practical training. That should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

“Naturally, that’s no problem. But Second Young Master, remember to use the training grounds. Most of the household guards practice there when not on duty. Whether you want to spar with someone or use the equipment, you’ll find what you need,” Old Xie answered.

“Hm. And what about the arrangements for leaving the city, have you made progress?” Yang Ze suddenly asked.

Old Xie’s expression changed, a hint of concern in his voice. “Must you really leave the city, Second Young Master? Times are troubled beyond these walls. Even within the city, ill things happen often.”

“Whatever the situation outside, I’m leaving. Old Xie, do you understand?” Yang Ze replied calmly as he sheathed the blade.

Old Xie looked at him and sighed. How could he not understand Yang Ze’s meaning?

“I understand, Second Young Master. There are still more than twenty days left. I’ll have everything arranged in time,” Old Xie answered before departing.

Yang Ze knew what Old Xie meant. In his eyes, Yang Ze had lived his whole life under the family’s protection, with no idea of what the world was truly like. These days, all sorts of people plied their trades outside the city. Within the city, the Yang family’s name was a shield. Outside, should they encounter bandits, the family banner might be useless.

Yet Yang Ze had no choice. Once he was reassigned, the privileges he enjoyed from the Yang family would diminish. He was like a hothouse flower—how could he grow without facing the elements?

Besides, he hadn’t obtained this blade just for show. At this thought, his grip on the sword tightened.

He had given himself ample time before his first venture beyond the city—a month, carefully calculated.

With the black stone’s help, he had mastered the first move of the Black Tiger Blade—Tiger Kill—in three days. A month would suffice to bring the whole technique to a basic level.

During this time, he would gain more practical experience; by then, his strength would improve enough for him to handle unexpected dangers on the road.

...

A month later, at the training grounds.

Yang Ze pounded relentlessly at a sandbag. With each punch, a dent appeared in the sack, until it was nearly flattened.

About thirty guards were present, many casting sidelong glances at Yang Ze. Since defeating Yang Deyi, the second young master had changed—he came to the grounds every other day, training harder than anyone else.

They had thought he wouldn’t last, but nearly a month had passed and he showed no signs of stopping.

What’s more, Yang Ze often sparred with the guards, never putting on airs. He showed restraint against the weaker, and when bested by stronger opponents, he bore no grudge, but instead sought their advice.

...

Over time, the guards’ opinion of Yang Ze transformed, and he gradually became one of them, building bonds within their circle.

Of course, Yang Hai was not unaware of Yang Ze’s recent conduct—his men reported everything. At that moment, Yang Hai stood in his own courtyard, face dark with displeasure.

“He’s made progress—dedicated to training, learning to win people over. My younger brother is like a different person. Still, that’s good; it wouldn’t be any fun beating a worthless opponent.

Don’t stop watching him. I want to see what else he’s got planned.”

With that, Yang Deyi and the servant who had once saved him responded and left.

But when they reached the training grounds, Yang Ze was already gone.

Usually, Yang Ze trained with the guards until dusk, but today he had left early. Tomorrow was the day he and Old Xie had agreed to leave the city.

With the trip looming, there were things to prepare, so he had to return sooner.

For most, leaving the city was no great ordeal. But Yang Ze was the Yang family’s second son; sneaking out was out of the question. He needed to report to the head of the family—if something happened, who could bear the blame?

Sure enough, as Yang Ze returned, Old Xie was already there waiting.

“Second Young Master, the head of the family has approved your departure. The carriage is ready, and tomorrow, after sunrise, we will set out,” Old Xie reported.

“That’s all?” Yang Ze was momentarily surprised. Was it really that simple?

“What else did you expect, Second Young Master? Frankly, if you were only going about in Yuyang City, whether in the inner or outer districts, I could accompany you anytime. Only because this trip takes you outside the city does it require special preparation.” Old Xie, seeing Yang Ze’s surprise, did not linger and soon left.

Yang Ze felt a little resentful—his departure lacked the grandeur he’d imagined. He’d hoped to take a few more guards for a show of strength.

But it didn’t matter; he wasn’t leaving for show, but for his own plans.

Taking up his sword, Yang Ze practiced the Black Tiger Blade in the courtyard one more time. Practicing daily had become habit.

Not only that, he cultivated the Sea Heart Sutra each night as well. Even with the black stone, he never forgot that his own talent was average at best. Without hard work, how could he grow stronger?

At dawn the next morning, as the appointed hour arrived, Yang Ze took up his blade and made his way out of the Yang family estate.

At the gate, Old Xie was already waiting atop a gray-yellow carriage. He glanced at Yang Ze, sword in hand, his eyes flickering briefly.

Yang Ze climbed into the carriage without a word. Old Xie cracked his whip, and a brown horse with a shaggy coat started forward, pulling the carriage slowly down the stone-paved street. They would follow Tai Rong Street out of the city.

One end of Tai Rong Street was lined with the mansions of the wealthy in South City; the other led to the outer city—and beyond.