"The sword is not arrogant; the spirit is not angry."
"Godlike as thunder ready to split, yet the heart is like an icy lake, unmoved."
"Your sword heart is in disarray, utterly without method. How can you contend with the likes of Li Jianxiang?" Lin Daoyan said earnestly. "Cultivation is not about fighting and killing. Follow me to visit Elder Lan in the Spirit Plant Garden."
Lin Yiru remained silent, her teeth clenched as she swung her three-foot Qingfeng sword.
The Martial Arts Field was filled with swirling snowflakes, obscuring one's figure. Yet, Lin Yiru moved as gracefully as a dragon, her Sword Light brilliantly varied. It was dazzlingly magnificent!
Her father, Lin Daoyan, let out a faint, almost inaudible sigh and felt helpless inside. So what if he was an Elder of the Phoenix Creek Sect, a prominent figure in Yong State? If his child wanted to listen to him, she would; if not, she wouldn't. Utterly helpless.
