Zhongli had entrusted Chen Xin with powerful sword techniques, among them the elemental Breathing Styles—Water, Thunder, and Wind Breathing—along with the far more esoteric and profound Moon Light Sword Style.
A prodigy in swordsmanship, Chen Xin adapted quickly. His deep comprehension of blade technique and instinctive control over form and flow allowed him to grasp the basics of the Breathing Styles with remarkable speed.
Each breathing technique would circulate Spirit Power along specific meridian paths, creating internal shockwaves, elemental amplification, or instantaneous movement.
Higher mastery would open special internal pathways and make the user's body have high regenerative capabilities too.
Also Breathing Styles would develop their own "Sword Intent" equivalent, a concept similar to Sword Douluo's sword domain. A Water Breathing user could develop a Water Sword Domain—making their attacks flow, suppress enemies, and slow surrounding attacks like pressure currents.
Each Breathing Style drew from nature itself:
Water Breathing taught him flow, fluidity, and adaptability.
Thunder Breathing trained his speed, reflex, and explosive power.
Wind Breathing honed his range, unpredictability, and offense through whirlwinds of steel.
But the Moon Light Sword Style—that was different.
It was deeper. Not simply a style, but a philosophy. It required more than talent—it demanded introspection, spiritual harmony, and a mastery over one's breath, heart, and intent.
Chen Xin, despite his aptitude, could feel it—the Moon Light Sword Style was like reaching for the moon's reflection in water. Beautiful, but elusive.
Seeing this, Zhongli advised him
"For now, make the Breathing Styles your foundation. They will become the roots from which greater understanding grows. Let them anchor your form and spirit. Only then will you begin to understand the Moonlight Sword Style."
Chen Xin lowered his head respectfully."Yes, Master."
He accepted the guidance with humility—knowing he was not yet ready to chase the moonlight without first mastering the wind, water, and storm.
From that day forward, Chen Xin immersed himself completely in the Breathing Styles. He trained with fierce dedication and spiritual focus, sometimes under waterfalls, sometimes atop cliffs, sometimes under starry skies.
The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the training ground atop the mountain peak. The wind whispered softly through the pines, but an eerie silence followed as Zhongli stood at the edge of the field, his gaze calm and ancient.
"Now," Zhongli said, his voice like resonating stone, "we are going to test how much you have understood the Breathing Styles."
Zhongli had given Chen Xin Breathing sword styles and Moon Light Sword Style.
Chen Xin, dressed in flowing white robes laced with deep azure trims, nodded with focused determination. His obsidian-black hair fluttered in the breeze, his sharp eyes never leaving his master's form.
Zhongli snapped his fingers.
From the edges of the clearing, shadowy figures materialized, emerging from the darkness as if the shadows themselves had drawn breath. They marched forward—tall, ominous, and silent.
Their skin was a ghostly blue, stretched taut over lean muscle, their eyes glowing crimson with an unnatural inner fire. Black armor with crimson-blue accents wrapped their forms, eerily blending old martial discipline with demonic essence. Their swords hung at their waists, attached to dark red belts, humming with restrained malice.
Each shadow radiated a thick, oppressive dark aura, laced with glowing runic lines that pulsed like corrupted veins—each one slightly different in hue, like corrupted variants of elemental forces.
Chen Xin instinctively reached for his sword, his muscles tensing. But Zhongli raised a hand.
"Do not fear. These are Shadow Sentinels—they are constructs, not living beings. Created for your training. Their strength has been calibrated to match a Soul Scholar… but don't let your guard down."
Chen Xin exhaled slowly. "I understand, Master."
He stepped forward and summoned his weapon.
With a flash of golden light, the Seven Kill Sword materialized in his hand—yet it was no longer the blade it once was.Evolved Seven Kill Sword: A long, slender blade gleamed in the twilight, the perfect blend of elegance and lethal precision.bIt radiated a golden aura, especially concentrated at the hilt, as if blessed by a divine presence.
The silver-gray blade held a faint metallic sheen, betraying its forged origin from rare and sacred metals.
At its center shimmered a black diamond-shaped mark, pulsing faintly with spiritual resonance.The ornate hilt, cast in luminous gold alloy, was engraved with celestial patterns of stars and clouds.
The guard housed a bold Yin-Yang symbol, glowing softly—a reflection of balance, of Taoist duality: light and dark, attack and defense, serenity and power.
Its cross-guard spread outward, curling in stylized shapes like phoenix feathers or divine wings.
The grip was bound in dark material—sturdy, grounded, elegant.Fine filigree lined the hilt.
The moment Chen Xin held the blade, golden sparks danced along its edge.
Across the field, the Shadow Sentinels drew their swords in unison. A chilling metallic harmony echoed as their blades reflected the moonlight.
Then, with a haunting silence, they charged.
Their footfalls didn't thunder—they whispered, like wraiths gliding across stone.
Chen Xin didn't flinch.
He took a deep breath, steadying his core.
Then he moved."Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance!"
With a swirl of motion, Chen Xin's form became a blur—graceful yet sharp. His sword shimmered as liquid streams of blue energy surged from the blade, coiling like rivers caught in moonlight. He weaved and turned, the blade bending and arcing with his body in elegant, seamless patterns.
The very air around him rippled. His movements mirrored the ebb and flow of water—fluid, unpredictable, deadly.
Each slash formed ribbons of water, slicing into the shadows with graceful power. His footwork flowed in seamless transitions, each strike dancing into the next, like a martial ballet echoing through ancient swordplay.
The shadow warriors faltered, caught off guard by the seamless assault of form and spirit.
He now stood with his back to the enemy.
His Seven Kill Sword was lowered, held loosely at his side, glowing faintly gold. His long hair, slightly tousled by movement, drifted in the breeze. His breath was calm — steady — the rhythm of a warrior in complete harmony with his technique.
Behind him…
The Shadow Sentinels froze in place.
For a moment, it seemed as though nothing had happened.
Then—one by one—their bodies began to split apart, clean, smooth slashes bisecting armor, limbs, and torsos. Blue ichor-like energy bled from the wounds, flickering briefly before fading like dying embers.
The warriors collapsed, disintegrating into fragments of shadow, dissolving into mist and ribbons of dark light.
Chen Xin didn't even turn around.
Zhongli's voice rang out with calm praise.
"Excellent control… You let your breath guide your blade. Water is not power through force, but through flow. You danced with death and emerged untouched."
Chen Xin turned slowly, his expression serene but eyes burning with drive.
"Thank you, Master. The blade… it felt lighter. My body… it moved on its own."
Zhongli nodded. "That is the essence of Breathing Styles. You do not move the sword—the sword moves with you. This is only the beginning."
Chen Xin nodded firmly, the grip on his sword tightening with resolve."Understood, Master."
Zhongli's fingers snapped once again.
From the folds of darkness, a new Shadow Warrior emerged—taller, broader, and radiating an oppressive aura. Its armor was heavier, reinforced with layered plates etched in crimson runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The greatsword it wielded buzzed faintly with spectral energy, serrated and forged for brute force.
Unlike the previous ones, this creature moved with intent—its red eyes locked onto Chen Xin like a predator that recognized challenge.
Zhongli's voice echoed calmly."Now try your best with this one."
Chen Xin shifted into stance once more, the Seven Kill Sword humming with golden light.
As the shadow lunged—its speed surpassing the previous warriors—Chen Xin moved instinctively, his body moved just in time to evade the downward cleave.
Chen Xin muttered "Water Breathing, Eleventh Form: Dead Calm."
The world… stilled.
Chen Xin's breath quieted. His pulse slowed. His feet barely moved.
He stood still—yet moved everywhere at once.
The Shadow Warrior swung again and again, slashes so powerful they cracked the ground—but each one was met with silent, perfect parries.
Chen Xin's blade flowed like a whispering tide, redirecting every blow with such fluid precision that it seemed like time itself bent to his rhythm. The wind around them fell silent, as though respecting his serenity.
But the Shadow's strikes were faster now, stronger, and more relentless—the barrage intensified.
"Dead Calm won't last…" Chen Xin whispered. "Then—Wind Breathing, Seventh Form: Gale, Sudden Gusts!"
The silence broke like a thunderclap.
With a sudden burst, Chen Xin launched himself into the air, spinning like a leaf caught in a cyclone. As he rose, his sword carved arcs of jade and black energy—the echo of howling wind and spiraling slashes.
Each swing of his blade summoned sickle-shaped shockwaves, slicing through the air and across the Shadow Warrior's body.
The gale-force winds shrieked, cutting deep gashes into the warrior's armor, shredding shadowy plates and warping the cursed metal.
The creature roared as it staggered backward, buffeted by the relentless force of Chen Xin's storm.
From the sky, Chen Xin descended with a final spinning slash.
His blade—bathed in wind and light—cut through the Shadow Warrior's chest in a clean, diagonal arc. The creature collapsed, its body unraveling into shadow and fragments of fading energy.
Zhongli clapped and said."You did great."
Chen Xin was happy at seeing his master's compliment and stood quietly, still basking in the afterglow of his successful Wind Breathing technique.
As Zhongli added."Remember these skills will evolve as you master it. You have only begun."
Chen Xin nodded, he knew there was Foundation → Grandmaster→ Form Mastery → Domain → Spirit Aura.
Then suddenly—a gentle ripple passed through the air, like a breeze through still water.
From a burst of green light that shimmered like falling leaves, a figure gracefully stepped forward.
She was beautiful—elegant, serene, and radiant, with long flowing green hair and soft, emerald eyes that held both ancient wisdom and quiet kindness. Her robe shimmered with feathers and jade-like glow. She carried herself with a calm dignity that made even the world around her seem more peaceful.
Bi Ji had arrived.
Zhongli remained still, unsurprised, as if expecting her.
Chen Xin, however, blinked in confusion and alarm. His grip subtly tightened around his sword, his instincts warning him—but he didn't act rashly.
Zhongli turned to him with a faint smile.
"Don't worry," he said calmly, "she is a friend."
Bi Ji gave a graceful bow to Zhongli, her voice soft and respectful.
"My Lord, Di Tian and Lady Gu Yuena wish to speak with you."
Zhongli nodded slightly, as if it were but a natural occurrence in the flow of things. He turned and gestured to Chen Xin.
"Bi Ji, this is my disciple."
Bi Ji's eyes widened subtly. She offered a warm smile to Chen Xin, but inside, her heart stirred with a touch of surprise—and envy.
"Lord Zhongli has taken a disciple…?" she thought to herself.
How rare…She was slightly envious of such a great opportunity had fallen to a boy.
Outwardly, she said kindly, "It's a pleasure to meet you, young one."
Chen Xin bowed cautiously in return. "Chen Xin… A pleasure, Lady Bi Ji."
Zhongli added with an amused tone, "She is not just a lady. Bi Ji is a 580,000-year-old Emerald Swan Soul Beast."
"What?!" Chen Xin gasped, his eyes wide in disbelief. "But—But I thought soul beasts only lived up to a hundred thousand years!"
Zhongli chuckled, a deep and wise sound. "There are many things the world has forgotten, little disciple. The true age of this realm runs deeper than the surface."
Chen Xin stared at Bi Ji with newfound awe—and a hint of wariness.
To stand this close to a being who could have once shattered armies… It was humbling.
Yet, seeing her composed demeanor, hearing her soft tone, and sensing no ill intent—he lowered his guard slightly.
"I… see," he said, still adjusting to the idea.
Zhongli began walking, the gentle clack of his boots echoing through the stone floor as celestial dust danced in the air around him.
He turned slightly and spoke without looking back,"Come now, both of you. Di Tian and Gu Yuena await. And I believe, Chen Xin… you are about to glimpse the truth behind soul beasts."
Chen Xin's eyes widened again, his heart pounding in anticipation.
He hurried to follow behind Zhongli and Bi Ji, questions swirling in his mind like the winds he had just commanded.