The Three Prohibitions

The crisp, pleasant rustle of turning pages filled the air.

But Li Feiyu hated that sound.

He stopped paying attention to the buried reader, Han Li, and ran back to the edge of the pool. He pulled his long blade from the earth where it was planted and began to practice on his own.

Han Li cast a sidelong glance at him, noting his abundant energy. Deciding not to interfere, he returned his focus to the materials in his hands.

"Reading ten lines at a glance"—that phrase might have been coined for the speed at which Han Li devoured books. A thick volume was finished in no time. Without looking up, he grabbed another and kept turning.

His eyes were narrowed. From time to time, a contemplative look crossed his face as he read. His gaze was fixed on the page, unwilling to leave for even a moment. His head swayed with the movement of his eyes, giving him the air of a scholar rocking as he recited.

Time flew. One by one, the Blinking Sword manuals passed under Han Li's scrutiny.

When he finished the eleventh manual, he suddenly stopped. He tossed that manual back onto the pile.

He closed his eyes to rest.

After recovering some energy, he sat cross-legged on the spot. Circulating the Eternal Spring Art, he began to replay the contents of the ten-odd books he had just read.

Before long, the expressions on his face grew varied. One moment he was excited; the next, frowning in thought; and then, frustrated with a bitter look.

No one knew how long had passed when Han Li finally opened his eyes. He was startled by what he saw.

Li Feiyu’s face was right in front of him, nearly nose to nose.

"What are you doing? Weren't you practicing your blade technique?"

"Brother Han, do you know what time it is? Asking such a stupid question." Li Feiyu pulled back, curling his lip.

Only then did Han Li notice that the light around him had dimmed.

He looked up at the sky. It had turned a hazy gray. Evening had arrived.

"Tch. Time really flies. I didn't realize so much of it had passed."

Han Li stood up and stretched his limbs.

"So? Did you find anything interesting in those books?" Li Feiyu looked at him with eager eyes, hoping for a final answer.

"Hm. Not bad. It suits me."

"'Not bad'? Give me something concrete." Li Feiyu was dissatisfied.

"Specifically, these manuals are a hodgepodge. There's no coherent system. They're assembled from scraps of this and that." Han Li's tone was unhurried.

"Then what about the Blinking Sword Art? Does it really exist? Why such a strange name?" Li Feiyu pressed on, still unsatisfied.

"The Blinking Sword Art does exist, but it's only a small part of this hodgepodge. It occupies only a tiny fraction of these books." Han Li was patient.

"As for why it's named that, there's a reason."

"What reason? Can't you just say it all at once instead of dribbling it out one sentence at a time? You sound just like the old scholar in our town." Li Feiyu glared at him, unable to tolerate his slow pace.

Han Li had no choice but to pick up the pace slightly.

"According to the manual, this sword art uses light and visual misdirection to defeat the enemy. It often takes a life in the blink of an eye. That's why it's called the Blinking Sword Art."

"Such a bizarre sword art exists? There really are no shortage of strange people in this world." Li Feiyu's interest was piqued, but it was immediately dampened by Han Li's next words.

"This art has three prohibitions. One: cannot be practiced by those with a modest achievement in true qi. Two: cannot be practiced by those without great perseverance. Three: cannot be practiced by those without natural talent."

After hearing the first condition, Li Feiyu gave up any notion of trying it. His internal true qi was already at a considerable level. He couldn't just abandon his cultivation to learn a technique whose actual power was still uncertain.

With his interest in the manuals completely gone, Li Feiyu no longer wanted to stay.

He stood up to take his leave. Before leaving, he reminded Han Li to copy down the manuals as quickly as possible. They could swap the originals back at their next meeting. Although no one paid much attention to these manuals, a whole stack disappearing for too long would still draw notice.

Soon after Li Feiyu left, Han Li also departed.

The mountain range was wrapped in a thin layer of mist, looking somewhat dim. On both sides of the narrow mountain path grew dense forests of conifers. When a mountain wind blew through the woods, it produced a rustling sound, and the branches danced like claws in the eerie twilight.

Walking on such a strange and sinister mountain road, Han Li hurried toward the direction of Divine Hand Valley.

Because he had set out a bit too late, the sky had gone completely dark by the time he was halfway there.

If not for the fact that the Eternal Spring Art sharpened his vision at night, Han Li would never have traveled in such dim light. The path was treacherous, winding left and right past many dangerous spots. One careless misstep could lead to an accident and cost him his life.