It was early morning, with lush grass and birdsong filling the air.
Pei Nai had slipped out over the wall from an inconspicuous corner of the Ju residence at dawn. As usual, she carried her spear to a small forest north of the city to practice martial arts.
Tang Mingzhi had been sickly since childhood, with a frail constitution. Using this body to wield weapons was especially difficult. Over the past two months since her rebirth, Pei Nai had come here every morning to train, hoping to make this body adapt more quickly to combat and avoid being at a disadvantage at critical moments due to physical limitations.
From childhood to adulthood, Pei Nai had heard no shortage of cold remarks:
“A woman practicing martial arts only corrupts the world.”
The sneering faces behind such words were all too familiar:
“What kind of skill can a woman possibly achieve?”
“You? If Pei Hao hadn’t had only you as a child, do you think you’d even qualify to learn the Pei family spear as a woman?”
As though being born female meant being stripped of all independence.
In this world, women were always belittled yet harshly judged. So she had to work harder—harder than all of them—until those who said she couldn’t would be beaten to their knees, begging for mercy.
She constantly drove herself this way.
Many times, she trained until she was utterly exhausted, yet still gritted her teeth and endured. Day by day, she could clearly feel the changes in this body—her former strength gradually returning.
Even the maids repeated the same sentence so often it nearly wore into her ears:
“Miss, your complexion has improved again!”
Pei Nai found it amusing. Her palm strikes lost a bit of force as her thoughts wandered. She suddenly shook her head—she had lost focus—and quickly refocused.
At that moment, a branch in the distance moved.
Sensing something, Pei Nai immediately picked up the spear standing nearby.
“Who’s there?” she demanded.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned quickly.
The man had exotic features—thick brows and large eyes—dressed in a crimson silk robe with overlapping lapels, striking and flamboyant.
He clapped with a smile of admiration. “What sharp hearing, miss.”
As soon as he finished speaking, another man in white leapt down from the tree that had just rustled, his expression cold and stern.
Pei Nai looked at the man in red with suspicion. “Who are you?”
“We are envoys from the State of Qilu. We are about to enter the city and present ourselves at court. I am Daxi An. Meeting you today is truly a blessing of three lifetimes.”
Pei Nai narrowed her eyes. If she remembered correctly, “Daxi”… was the imperial surname of Qilu.
Qilu had once been a great nation bordering Tianyao’s southern region. But from what she had learned over the past two months, five years ago Prince Gu of Qilu had allied with three neighboring states to rebel and seize the throne. War broke out, plunging the nation into chaos.
The emperor of Qilu, unable to withstand the forces alone, sought aid from Tianyao. Tianyao sent troops and helped suppress the rebellion.
The civil war greatly weakened Qilu. Three years ago, it requested to become a vassal state of Tianyao. Though it now paid tribute, Tianyao followed a lenient policy—non-interference in internal affairs and mutual cooperation, offering protection in return.
“Then why are you here in this forest instead of going on your way?” Pei Nai pressed.
Daxi An clicked his tongue, speaking fluent Tianyao dialect. “Such hostility from a young lady. When we stopped outside the northern gate of Chaoyang to rest, my guard sensed unusual fluctuations in the wind here—very much like the long-lost Dingguang Compassion Palm. So we came to take a look. No need to be alarmed.”
“Miss, are you a disciple of the Zhongchuan monk, Elder Zhong?” the white-robed guard asked calmly.
Pei Nai studied him. With just one glance, she could tell he was no ordinary person. “Sharp eyes. May I ask your name?”
She hadn’t expected him to draw his sword immediately.
His movement was swift and precise. Without giving her a moment to react, a long sword glowing with dark, rippling light thrust straight toward her.
His footwork was cunning. Pei Nai struck forward with a palm, disrupting his attack while stepping back sharply to evade.
She was startled. Against an ordinary opponent, that strike would have been fatal. The fact that he attacked so decisively meant he was certain she could evade it.
“Zisheng! That’s a girl!” Daxi An stomped anxiously nearby. “Calm down—don’t hurt her!”
The white-robed guard exchanged a few rapid moves with Pei Nai, then replied indifferently, “She’s stronger than you. She doesn’t need your concern.”
Daxi An looked deeply wounded. “Stronger than me? Are you serious?!”
Pei Nai found him too noisy. While fighting, she freed one hand and casually struck a palm toward him.
Daxi An flicked open a black iron folding fan from his sleeve, raising it to shield his face.
A powerful gust slammed into him. His robes and hair whipped wildly, leaves shattered and scattered, branches snapped and fell.
Even as he was shocked, he kept complaining, “So ruthless. I was worried you’d get hurt, and this is how you treat me?”
Pei Nai ignored him. While exchanging moves, she practiced her Ten Thousand Resentments Palm, studying the strange sword techniques before her, analyzing the guard’s style.
She raised her hand. A fierce wind surged from the ground.
With unstoppable force, withered leaves and broken branches were swept up and hurled toward the white-robed guard.
His sword met it head-on.
With a turn and a slash, his sword intent was deadly. It seemed as though he controlled the wind itself, splitting the gale apart without harm.
As the wind weakened, he thrust his sword into its core, then twisted—drawing the currents along with his blade and sending them sweeping forward in a horizontal strike.
Pei Nai’s eyes widened. She quickly shifted aside, grabbed her spear from the ground, spun it, and struck against his sword, blocking the fatal blow.
“You’re one of the Three Peaks—the Wuqiang Sword of the Southern Domain, Gongyang Zisheng!” she declared, recognizing the three flowing grooves etched into his blade.
The Three Peaks consisted of the Northern Pursuit Spear, the Western Cold Blade, and the Southern Wuqiang Sword. Each served a different nation. The Northern Pursuit Spear represented Tianyao’s military soul, while the Western Cold Blade and Southern Wuqiang Sword belonged to the Wuzu and Qilu respectively.
In the past, Qilu had stood equal to Tianyao and the Wuzu. The Gongyang family of the Southern Wuqiang Sword had long been the foremost among Qilu’s generals.
Gongyang Zisheng withdrew his sword.
“Your Dingguang Compassion Palm is peculiar,” he said. “Without sorrow, without resentment, without enlightenment—only the outward form remains. Its techniques differ greatly, yet the lingering force of the wind resembles the true art by ninety percent. You don’t seem like a beginner, yet your palm technique is unfamiliar. It puzzles me.”
“You are absolutely right,” Pei Nai replied. “My experiences are limited, so I cannot grasp the essence of the Dingguang Compassion Palm. Its power is lacking—just an empty shell to fool ordinary people. However…”
She paused, glancing at the spear beside her.
“I am willing to use my own martial art to exchange a few moves with you.”