Meng Chuan couldn't help but try again. In an instant, his body, mind, and technique merged as one. He moved forward with the blade slicing through the air, leaving a series of afterimages and stunning streaks of sword light across the training ground.
Fast! Elusive!
This was the hallmark of the secret technique Three Autumn Leaves.
Both his movement and blade were swift and unpredictable!
After executing the sequence over ten times, Meng Chuan finally stopped, barely able to contain his excitement.
"Three Autumn Leaves… one leaf falls, spanning three autumns! I've finally comprehended it! I've finally comprehended it!"
"I've reached the first great stage of the blade technique—the Unity Stage!"
"I, Meng Chuan, have the potential to become a godfiend!"
Meng Chuan was genuinely thrilled.
He had begun practicing the Fallen Leaves Blade Technique at eleven. Four years had passed.
In all those years, he had never slackened, training relentlessly, because he knew very well: many practitioners excel in the early stages of blade techniques, but nearly all stall before the threshold of the Unity Stage. Most gradually become mediocre; merely reaching the Wu Lou Realm in one's lifetime was considered an achievement.
But that was never Meng Chuan's goal. He wanted to become a godfiend! His dedication and obsession had one sole aim—godfiendhood!
He could never forget the day, at six years old, when he was tied to his father's back. His father fought off demons while fleeing, and in the direst moment, his mother deliberately attacked the monsters to buy him time.
All to save him.
From his father's back, Meng Chuan watched helplessly as his mother was overwhelmed by monsters. He had cried until his heart tore, while his father ran without looking back, tears streaming. Yet in the end… he survived.
"Cultivation must begin as early as possible. Mortal bodies peak at twenty, then gradually decline," Meng Chuan reflected.
"Currently, the top genius of Dongning Prefecture, Mei Yuanzhi, comprehended a secret technique at fifteen. Just last month, at twenty, he finally grasped the 'Ice Form.' He can even reside and cultivate within the Yuyang Palace."
Mei Yuanzhi had come from an ordinary household. His mother was a maid, and his father merely a Rebirth Realm practitioner. Yet at fifteen, he astonished the Dao Academy with his secret technique. The academy cultivated him intensively, and godfiend families wished to marry off their daughters to him—but Mei Yuanzhi was devoted solely to cultivation. Only this year, on the twelfth day of the first month, did he comprehend the Ice Form, narrowly grasping a 'Form' at twenty. Now he had a chance to attempt entry into the ancient cultivation site, Yuanchu Mountain, where admission required being under twenty.
"I've reached the Unity Stage; this is just the first step. There are still thresholds like Blade Form and Condensed Core. I cannot slack off," Meng Chuan murmured, glancing around the quiet training ground, now vibrant with green foliage.
"How coincidental," he realized. "Today is February 27th… I've broken through just one day before the internal selection at the Dao Academy."
Sometimes, fate worked in curious ways.

The next morning, Meng Chuan and Liu Qiyue were having breakfast.
The entire Meng family was now devoted to cultivating their juniors, even hiring Wu Lou Realm masters to spar with Meng Chuan. The recently enlightened Blade Form master, Meng Dajiang, often resided at the ancestral estate, instructing many young practitioners. Meng Chuan, of course, had been thoroughly guided by his father and was already familiar with the techniques.
As for Qiyue's father, Liu Yebai, he was mysterious, spending most of the year away.
"Achuan, today is the Dao Academy's selection. Yours is today as well, right?" Qiyue said proudly. "I've already secured my spot."
"I'll secure mine today too," Meng Chuan replied with a smile.
"Confident?" Qiyue laughed. "Your Marrow Refinement Stage isn't even complete, yet you're confident of placing in the top three at the academy?"
"What if I win?" Meng Chuan asked.
Qiyue studied him carefully, then grinned mischievously. "If you win, I'll cook dinner for you for a month. But if you lose… hee hee, you'll have to give me your Steed Scroll! Do you dare to bet?"
Meng Chuan smiled.
His painting skills had long surpassed the best artists in Dongning Prefecture, partly due to scarcity of talent. The Steed Scroll was his greatest work: a lengthy painting depicting one hundred horses in varying postures and expressions, taking over a year to complete. Qiyue had long coveted it. Even Yun Qingping, upon seeing it once, offered three thousand taels and two jade pieces for it—yet Meng Chuan refused.
"If I lose, I give up the Steed Scroll. If I win, you cook for a month. Isn't that a bit unfair?" Meng Chuan hesitated.
"One month! Do you dare or not?" Qiyue fixed him with her gaze.
"Hardly ever get you to cook once. Fine, I'll bet this time," Meng Chuan gritted his teeth. "But if I lose… don't regret it."
"You won't regret it either!" Qiyue said, setting down her bowl and leaving. "I'm heading to the academy. Don't chicken out at noon!"
"Relax," Meng Chuan said leisurely, sipping his porridge. A month of meals prepared by Qiyue? How could he refuse?
After finishing, he wiped his mouth and strolled toward the Dao Academy.

At Mirror Lake Dao Academy, Meng Chuan found the arena crowded with students.
"Senior Meng will definitely win!"
"Senior Meng, you'll be top three for sure!"
Many juniors were excited. Today was the selection, and the academy wanted them to witness the contests of senior disciples. Some had received guidance from Meng Chuan and were eager to see him succeed.
"Though I want Senior Meng to win, honestly, in past contests among the top ten Marrow Refinement Stage disciples, he hasn't had an edge. His chance of placing top three is slim."
"Senior Wan Mang and Senior Bai Guan usually determine the top spot. They are practically guaranteed a slot."
The arena was cordoned off ten yards around, and spectators could not approach. Meng Chuan and the others waited, their weapons inspected by instructors to ensure they were unsharpened.
A small, thin man carrying a wine jar, reeking of alcohol, approached.
"Dean."
"Dean."
All students bowed respectfully. The twenty-two disciples of Shanshui Tower followed suit. The man was the academy's dean, Ge Yu, notorious for his greed and drinking, yet the students obeyed him without question. Dongning Prefecture's fastest swords were well-earned through skill.
"All present. Good. Let's begin," Ge Yu said, his face flushed and smelling of alcohol.
"There are six Rebirth Realm disciples. Let's determine the top three quickly," he continued.
"One of us has only recently reached Rebirth Realm. I am weak; I forfeit this contest," a youth bowed.
"Dean, I lost all three matches last night," a strong, dark-skinned youth said.
"Ah?" Ge Yu nodded knowingly. "Very well, the trio attending the Yuyang Palace Monster-Slaying Event will be Wu Qi and the Wei brothers."
"Yes, Dean," the three bowed. Wu Qi was Rebirth Realm Complete; the Wei brothers were late-stage Rebirth Realm, their advantage clear.
"There are sixteen Marrow Refinement Stage disciples in Shanshui Tower," Ge Yu continued, looking at each of them, including Meng Chuan. "Each may contest for a spot. Rules: Confident students may step onto the arena. Five consecutive victories earn a selection. Two defeats, and you are eliminated."
"Good. Begin!" Ge Yu took a long drink from his jar.
The sixteen disciples fell silent. Five consecutive wins? The first to step on the arena would face the greatest challenge. Winning later would be easier, with strong opponents already eliminated.
"Who goes first?" The disciples' gaze shifted to two: the burly, smiling Wan Mang and the cold, stern Bai Guan. In past top-ten contests, the first place was always decided between these two.
"You want to go?" Wan Mang asked Bai Guan.
"You can, if you like," Bai Guan replied coldly.
At that moment—a single figure stepped onto the arena. Meng Chuan.
Scanning the surprised juniors below, he said, "The first spot goes to me."