“Of course.”
Master Ma nodded.
“You all saw the bout.
“Did you notice—Jing Yuan looked to cut once, yet those three monsters suffered several blows?
“Why?”
He turned to Xiao Sa, then answered himself: “Because he did not cut once—he cut several times.
“The hand was too quick for the naked eye—so you mistook it for a single stroke.
“Hence I said: his blade is fast.
Very fast.”
He gave the move a lofty praise.
The audience had their “aha.”
[So those edges were multiple cuts in an instant?
(shock.jpg) I thought it was a visual effect…]
[Welp, after this analysis, I like Little Jing even more (shy.jpg).]
[Reminder: women only slow his attack speed.
Ladies, please—aim at me instead.
I will bear this pain for him!]
[Seems the Master has some real goods—not just flower-frames.]
[I thought he was already cracked.
Turns out, I was shallow…]
“I see,” Xiao Sa said.
“So—’of all martial arts, speed defeats all’?”
“You could put it that way,” Master Ma agreed.
On screen, Jing Yuan started policing the battlefield, collecting the wraiths’ drops, so Xiao Sa, unsated, replayed the clip— then turned on slow motion.
This was documentary basics, perfect for unpacking fast moves.
No one expected that no matter how slow he dialed it—frame by frame—there were no extra motions to catch.
It looked like…
Jing Yuan had truly only cut once.
Xiao Sa frowned, and pitched the puzzle back.
“Senior, why can’t slow-mo reveal how many cuts he made?”
“This—” Master Ma stalled.
Even with decades in the rivers and lakes, the question stumped him.
(What he couldn’t know was that Jing Yuan had only cut once.
The “edges” were the battle art’s effect.)
In the Zone, Jing Yuan had no idea a certain “Master Ma” had anointed him a reclusive grandmaster of the quick blade— and, single-handed, misled the entire audience.
He casually pocketed a handful of hoarfrost crystals.
Yes— the Everwinter Wraiths dropped the same items as the frost constructs: hoarfrost crystals, just more of them.
Unknown or not, loot was loot.
In the grand tradition of “leave no dirt unturned,” he took the lot.
No sooner had he finished than a fuzzy head popped from his collar.
Mimi pointed his paw at the distant boars and burrowed against Jing Yuan’s chest, one whisker shy of begging him to go hunting.
Jing Yuan snorted, flicked the little forehead, and scolded with a smile, “Glutton.
All you think about is boar meat.
Where were you when the fight started?”
Mimi yipped at the flick, eyes going glassy with grievance—
I’m just a baby.
Plenty in chat promptly defected to the kitten’s side.
[Sir??
Child labor??
BIRTHCHECK!!]
[He’s so small—how can you say that?]
[subway—elderly—cellphone]
[Mimi: you and me?
We farm and delete!
(shades.jpg)]
[I farm, you delete.
Problem?
No problem!
(cool.jpg)]
Thankfully, the fight hadn’t spooked the herd.
Otherwise he’d be tracking dinner.
He drew Flint-Dream and moved.
One chop, and a boar dropped into dreamland.
Maybe a youngling—slept especially sweet.
The herd noticed.
To his surprise, they didn’t scatter.
They angered—and charged, one after another.
For ordinary folk, a boar’s rush is lethal.
Even with a shotgun, you give way.
But Jing Yuan wasn’t ordinary.
As the charges stacked, he kept the blade one-handed and slid left-right.
Flint-Dream didn’t blunt his agility.
He slipped every rush and answered with an easy cut.
Every cut dropped a boar.
Moments later, the ground was a pantry.
White snow ran red.
The thickness of blood made him crease his nose.
Mimi, squirming in his coat, was incandescent—desperate to leap out and feast.
the survivors wised up.
Sensing this human was trouble, they stopped the suicides— and, in perfect chorus, lifted their heads and howled.
Mimi felt the threat too.
He shivered deeper into Jing Yuan’s arms, forcing himself to ignore the feast.
The déjà vu made Jing Yuan’s temples thump.
“Don’t tell me…”
Meanwhile, in Yanjing, the biologist, prodded by the general, resumed analysis.
“Strictly speaking, wild boars are aggressive…
“but not to this fearless extreme.
“They typically attack when startled—
“and this collective howling is more lupine behavior…”
“Enough,” the general cut in.
“Why are they howling?
Conclusions?”
“Er…” The biologist hesitated.
“The best inference is: a clan-wide call—like… like wolves calling the alpha.”
Give the man credit— the instant he said it, the feed changed.
After the howls, a mass of snow sloughed from the mountain wall, revealing a yawning black mouth.
A cave— several zhang wide, like something’s den.
In the next beat, a low, resonant bellow rolled out.
Then—two scarlet eyes.
As big as lanterns, the eyes alone—through the screen—curdled the blood.
Hard to imagine how huge the thing in that cave was.
Every Dragon Nation heart leapt to the throat— the general’s included.
No one had expected this lurking in the Zone.
Finally, the thing squeezed from the hole and showed its true face…
Thank you so much for reading until the end.
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