After speaking, Wen Qingye walked out of his Cave Mansion. He came to a small waterfall, drew his One Thought Sword, and began to practice.
Time ticked by. Soon, it was afternoon, then night fell. As if he'd forgotten what it meant to be tired, Wen Qingye continued to swing his sword without pause.
His form could still be seen moving, even under the moonlight.
The night passed just like that. The morning sun rose slowly, bathing the land in its light and radiating endless vitality.
'The Slaying Immortal Sword Dao is like a great mountain—immeasurably heavy and profound, with an overwhelming presence. A single strike can sunder mountains and crack the earth. It's utterly domineering.'
"This strike isn't right. It lacks the profound weight of the Rock Law; I haven't brought out its mountain-like presence," he muttered to himself. He would slash out with his sword, but always felt like something was missing.
