The Boy Who Moved Like the Wind

Sword Draw Technique... Sword Mastery Specialty?

Fang Lang took a deep breath as his eyes lit up.

A humming sound was heard.

The message about the Sword Draw Technique appeared in his mind. Then, a peculiar memory played out.

…

Snow fell heavily in the Fang Manor courtyard.

A boy dressed in a light robe stood amidst the snowfall. A sword hung at his waist. His palm rested on the hilt as he faced the ground, eyes closed.

Exhale...

The boy let out a misty breath and the snowflakes were blown away.

Time stilled and a piece of snowflake laid frozen before his face.

In a split second, the boy's eyes opened. His thumb pressed down on the hilt of his sword.

The blade sang.

His movements were a blur.

The snowflake was split into two—the two halves fluttered down onto the ground.

As the wind picked up, the snowfall increased. The boy took the opportunity to continue training.

Day after day, year after year.

…

"Fa-Fang Lang, do you have any more questions? If there's nothing else, can I leave?"

Ni Wen watched the boy who was lost in a daze. She lifted a slender finger and carefully poked at Fang Lang's shoulder.

Fang Lang came back to his senses and stared at Ni Wen.

As if shocked by electricity, Ni Wen retracted her finger.

A grin formed on his lips.

"Nothing much for now. Can I pair up with you for combat practice later? I have some questions." Fang Lang's eyes sparkled expectantly.

Meaningful interactions about cultivation with the binding partner would grant him more rewards!

Fang Lang finally understood the passive ability.

Before Ni Wen could answer his question, a loud slam was heard a few seats away.

"Fang Lang! I've had enough of you! You come around and ask cultivation questions you'd never encounter, and now you want to pair up for practice? You're just a useless son from a rich family. You're aware of your academy results, right? Know your place."

Liu Hao slammed his hand down and pushed the desk away. A dark expression crossed his face.

He walked toward Fang Lang with his fists clenched.

He had been keeping an eye on Fang Lang. He restrained himself when Fang Lang approached Ni Wen and all the while, he kept an ear open to their conversation.

Liu Hao was at his wits' end.

As a student from a commoner's background, he always stuck with Ni Wen for combat class. He figured he would benefit from interacting with the genius.

Fang Lang was stealing his opportunity.

Liu Hao's outburst drew the attention of other students. Many students shot them a look of interest.

The loud slam startled Ni Wen. When she saw the dark-faced Liu Hao, her heart beat wildly.

Fang Lang's eyebrow raised at the commotion but he remained calm. He patted his green robe and greeted Liu Hao with a charming smile.

With an eyebrow raised, he threw out a challenge.

"Wanna fight?" Fang Lang asked.

Liu Hao was taken aback.

Just like that? No argument?

'You're a third-grade sword disciple and you want to take me on?' Liu Hao thought.

'Are you out of your mind? Why don't you follow the customs?'

Students gathered around them, eager to watch the drama unfold.

It was an amusing sight to behold—a commoner picking a fight with a rich kid. The divide between the rich and the poor in the academy was ever present and it gave rise to competition between the two factions.

Therefore, multiple pairs of eyes followed Liu Hao.

A few students from the upper class approached and stood behind Fang Lang as a show of support.

Reluctantly, a few students from the lower class came over to back Liu Hao up.

"Leave Ni Wen alone! She's a genius and the only hope for us poor people. Keep your hedonistic, good-for-nothing ways away from her!" Liu Hao threatened with his fist clenched.

He was incredibly aggressive toward Fang Lang. He despised this untalented boy who had access to all the resources.

The room turned frosty as the insult hung in the air.

The expressions of the upper-class students who stood behind Fang Lang darkened.

Hedonistic? Good-for-nothing?

Liu Hao's opening salvo offended every rich kid in the room.

A few geniuses who were born in rich families let out a chilling laugh. They gave Liu Hao the stink eye.

Liu Hao was unperturbed.

Truthfully, he was not afraid of these rich kids. The academy had specific rules that protected the common folk. After the Imperial Examination, Liu Hao would join a sect and achieve greatness—he would have fewer reasons to be afraid then.

That was why he dared to speak up.

The atmosphere in the study hall was awkward. The tension between the poor and the rich intensified—all it took was a spark to light the fire.

Fang Lang was speechless. 'Is this boy emotionally retarded? Better keep it cool.'

"You wanna fight?" Fang Lang repeated his line.

Liu Hao's lips twitched.

'Is that all you know?' Liu Hao thought.

It felt like he was talking to a wall.

"Fang Lang, third-grade sword disciple, academy score 232, ranking in the 700s. Your ranking in the empire would be in the 10,000s. Please know your limits," Liu Hao said as he unclenched his fist. He resorted to taking a jab at Fang Lang's academic results.

The amused smile did not leave Fang Lang's face—there was no sign of anger.

Fang Lang glanced at the meek little girl by his side and allowed his smile to widen.

His gaze fell onto Liu Hao—mischief danced in his eyes.

He repeated the same line.

"Wanna fight?" The same words were uttered.

Was it human nature to be a copy reader?

No, Fang Lang actually wanted to fight Liu Hao.

Of course, he did not want a fight without rules.

The amused smiles of the upper-class students rooted Liu Hao to the spot. He felt pressured to accept the challenge when all the eyes were on him.

Ultimately, he could not resist the goading from Fang Lang.

"F*ck! Come on! Let's fight!"

Liu Hao raised his fists and clenched his jaw. The fifth-grade martial arts disciple channeled his vital energy as a fierce aura radiated from his body.

Liu Hao's declaration shocked Ni Wen out of her silence. "Ah! Li-Liu Hao, don't fight!"

She turned to meet Fang Lang's eyes.

Fang Lang gave Ni Wen a small smile and nod. As if they were childhood friends, he patted Ni Wen on the head and said, "Don't worry. If he wants a fight, I will do it."

Ni Wen did not shy away from his touch. Progress!

The gentleness of his tone and words calmed Ni Wen's heart. After the in-depth discussion with Fang Lang about cultivation, she had subconsciously developed a trust in the boy.

Most importantly, the hand on her head made her muscles tense. Her mind went blank and she stayed still.

A visible blush rose from her neck to her face. She looked like a boiling kettle—any second, steam would be rising from her head.

Ni Wen's blush and Fang Lang's words made Liu Hao want to puke blood.

F*ck!

'Get your dirty hands off her! You're the one who wanted to fight!'

"Fang Lang! Come on! One round! Or are you just all talk?" Liu Hao roared. His eyes were bloodshot.

The loud voice broke Ni Wen out of her trance. She stared at Liu Hao in shock. 'Why are you shouting?'

A sliver of smile appeared on Fang Lang's face. "Let us head down to the practice grounds before combat class starts. If you lose, we'll switch partners for combat practice. Agreeable?"

Anger coursed through Liu Hao.

Fang Lang was exposed! He was after Ni Wen all along!

This was what he wanted!

Liu Hao did not back down. His fighting spirit ignited in the face of the opposite sex—he wanted to showcase his strengths.

Fang Lang was just a third-grade sword disciple while Liu Hao was a fifth-grade martial arts disciple. In an actual battle, Liu Hao was confident he could defeat Fang Lang.

Did Fang Lang have an ace up his sleeve? Some underhand tactic?

"You can't use spell charms or underhand tactics. You rich kids have the resources to buy a bunch of enhancements and that won't be a fair fight!"

Liu Hao was angry but not dumb.

Fang Lang pulled back the hand that patted Ni Wen's head. He said with a smile, "Rest assured, I won't be using any spell charms or underhand tactics. If I am caught cheating, I will forsake my name and stay 10 meters away from Little Wen."

The words uttered, Fang Lang turned to leave for the practice grounds. The sleeves of his green robe swayed with his movements.

The crowd of students was excited to watch the next episode.

A duel was actually happening.

Liu Hao clenched his fist and his knuckles made a cracking sound.

'Little Wen? Who gave you the right to use that nickname?'

Anger clouded Liu Hao's judgment as he stomped downstairs, tailing Fang Lang to the practice grounds.

Without spell charms, he was certain he could trump Fang Lang.

Where did the third-grade sword disciple get his confidence?