Chapter 152: Yaozi Fanshen

The next day.

"Master Li, you've come?"

A young man in the arms depot, seeing Li Rui, hurried out from the building to greet him.

"Little Liu, where's Manager Tian?"

Li Rui stood with his hands behind his back, his smile warm and kind.

Though he had been promoted and no longer served as manager of the Ding-class arms depot, as a former superior and an avid reader, he often returned to take a look.

The new manager welcomed this warmly.

For no other reason.

Li Rui had been promoted, not transferred sideways.

The new manager, unless he had water in his brain, would never provoke an officer a full rank above him.

If they were peers, the situation might be different.

The Liu youth, formerly a soldier in the depot, grinned: "Manager Tian usually arrives at noon."

"I see."

Li Rui nodded.

This was common not just in Anning Guard, but throughout the Yu Empire's bureaucracy: subordinates must report on time, but officers had far more flexibility.

As long as nothing urgent arose, they typically arrived after lunch.

Someone like Li Rui, arriving so early, was rare.

The Liu youth beamed with flattery: "Master Li, what book are you here for today?"

Li Rui often came to borrow miscellaneous books.

These books held no value, so Manager Tian didn't bother monitoring them—just take them, and remember to return them.

Li Rui shook his head: "I'm here to exchange martial arts manuals."

Hearing this, the Liu youth said: "Master Li, we're all family—I won't verify it; as long as Master He agrees, it's fine."

"Rules must be followed."

Li Rui shook his head: "Even as a former manager, the verification steps are still necessary."

The Liu youth grinned and nodded rapidly: "Yes, yes, Master Li is right."

He knew perfectly well.

But why say it that way?

Simply to slip Li Rui a quiet favor—after all, even if he didn't check, Superior He Shan would.

To claim important supplies from the depot required passing three checkpoints.

First, the Military Supply Hall, where one exchanged military merit for a supply token; second, the arms depot, where the manager or soldiers verified the request; third, the depot guards—namely, He Shan, whom he'd greeted several times before.

Only after clearing all three could one claim the item.

This was to prevent impersonation or exploitation by those with ill intent.

Li Rui knew the path upstairs better than his own courtyard.

The Liu youth had intended to lead him, but Li Rui waved him off: "Little Liu, go about your duties—I'll climb up myself."

"Yes."

The Liu youth felt a pang of disappointment.

He had hoped to curry favor with Li Rui, perhaps one day securing a transfer to the Night Scouts, like Liang He had.

Li Rui understood the boy's thoughts, but he didn't use just anyone.

Like nails—some belong in critical joints to connect and stabilize, others only serve auxiliary roles on the periphery.

He climbed the stairs steadily.

Moments later.

He reached the third floor.

"Master He, long time no see."

He Shan sat as usual—not in his office, but at a simple table with a stool, positioned in the center of the open third-floor space.

Seeing Li Rui, He Shan showed a rare, relatively gentle expression.

When Li Rui still served as manager, their relationship had been cordial.

Li Rui did not rush to the point; he exchanged a few pleasantries first: "Master He, this old man is troubling you again."

He Shan shook his head: "Master Li, you're too kind. I heard you went to Qingfeng Manor—did all go well?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Li Rui's eyes.

He hadn't even brought it up, yet He Shan mentioned it himself.

"He's improved."

Thinking this, he smiled and replied: "Fine. The food suited my taste."

He Shan chuckled: "At seventy, Master Li still has such an appetite—truly a blessing."

Li Rui suddenly slapped his forehead: "I forgot—you're also from Anning Prefecture. I should've asked you before leaving."

Ning Zhongtian had granted Li Rui permission to review Anning Guard's household registers.

So Li Rui knew He Shan had once been from Anning Prefecture, his family seemingly well-off—though no one knew why he became a blade-for-hire before joining Anning Guard.

Mentioning Anning Prefecture, He Shan's eyes darkened with sorrow: "My parents passed long ago. No one remains there. No need to return."

Li Rui's heart stirred slightly:

"Master He, I spoke foolishly."

Then he withdrew a small, finely crafted iron token from his sleeve: "Master He, I'm here to exchange a martial arts manual."

He Shan took the iron token from Li Rui's hand.

Though they were well-acquainted, he still carefully verified it before stowing it away: "Verified. Master Li wishes to train in footwork?"

Each manual corresponded to a token, its name engraved on the back.

He Shan saw it at a glance.

"Yaozi Fanshen."

A famed martial art in the jianghu, its origins ancient, yet after a thousand years, still revered as a supreme lightness technique.

Anning Guard naturally kept a copy.

Li Rui: "I was preoccupied with sword training. Now that I've broken through, I want to address my weaknesses."

He Shan nodded: "Master Li thinks very thoroughly."

In martial combat, mastering one art suffices—but having more grants greater flexibility.

Internal arts can be limited to one, but external arts differ: most cultivators train two or three, to adapt to unpredictable combat scenarios.

Some even claim to know a hundred arts.

Of course, those are extreme cases.

Generally, learning one lightness technique plus one martial art—fists, blades, or weapons—is sufficient. Lightness aids escape and pursuit; blades are the core of combat. This is the standard combination for most.

He Shan immediately fetched the copied manual of "Yaozi Fanshen" for Li Rui.

Li Rui took the manual.

Given He Shan's lingering sorrow, Li Rui saw no reason to linger—he made an excuse and descended.

His sinews had not yet shown signs.

During the ambush on the Decapitated Slaves at Qingfeng Manor, Li Rui realized his footwork lagged far behind Tan Hu and Dong Shen.

Had Li Rui not noticed this before?

He had understood it.

But without breaking through to Liujin, his lifespan wouldn't noticeably extend.

Life and death are uncertain.

No one could predict it.

So Li Rui had focused solely on cultivating internal and external arts, strengthening his body, and pushing for breakthroughs as quickly as possible.

=9+Book, okay?

He truly feared he might die of old age before breaking through.

He did not want to die.

Now he had time. Qi condensation was proceeding steadily—no need to rush—and so he could finally address his old shortcomings.

Lightness techniques weren't just for chasing enemies—they were vital for escape.

Thus, Li Rui chose to train in lightness first.

"Yaozi Fanshen" was his deliberate choice after careful consideration.

Back at his residence,

Li Rui instructed Wang Zhao in the courtyard: he would enter seclusion; no visitors, unless absolutely critical, were to be admitted.

Then he retreated into his room.

The manuals in the arms depot were all copies, so their covers were pristine.

Sometimes, the ink might still be wet.

Anning Guard frequently hired literate scholars untrained in martial arts to copy texts, to prevent anyone from secretly learning martial arts.

Of course,

If one of those scholars happened to be surnamed Huang, there was nothing to be done.

Li Rui opened the martial art manual.

His eyes fell upon it.

"Wind rises on the high ridge, the sparrowhawk soars through the air, feet tread empty space, qi strength naturally grows, leaping nine heavens, body a streak of light, eyes survey all six directions, agile without bounds."

The "sparrowhawk" in Sparrowhawk Flip refers to a bird resembling a hawk but smaller—a sparrowhawk.

According to the manual's description.

The elder who created this lightness skill lived amid towering mountains and deep valleys, where paths were steep and treacherous; a single misstep could send one tumbling into a precipice, crushing the body to pulp.

Especially when traversing cliffside trails, falling rocks often shattered the path—then the best solution was to leap across.

That was how the name Sparrowhawk Flip came to be.

"Excellent at high leaps, refined in endurance—good, very good."

Li Rui grew more satisfied the more he read.

Lightness skill is a general term; each specific technique varies greatly.

Some excel at long-distance running, others at high jumps, still others at agile maneuvering in confined spaces.

Li Rui's chosen Sparrowhawk Flip combined both endurance and high-leaping advantages, making it the most versatile.

This was also why Sparrowhawk Flip had endured for a thousand years without fading.

He spent the night turning pages.

As soon as the time came, Li Rui put down the book and began circulating qi.

He did not forget his foundation just because he had found something exciting.

After circulating qi, he slipped into bed as usual and fell into deep sleep.

The next morning, he rose early.

After washing his face, he continued practicing swordplay in the courtyard, adding only a few Sparrowhawk Flip leg techniques after finishing.

To cultivate lightness skill, one must first train the legs.

Experts skilled in lightness often specifically train their legs to enhance endurance and explosive power.

Li Rui was no different.

After willow tendons, practicing lightness skill has one advantage: the seventh-rank body is already strong enough, so there's no need to reinforce the foundation—excellent results come naturally.

The Sparrowhawk Flip incantation from the previous night surfaced in his mind.

Force arises from the feet, travels up the thighs, passes through the waist and hips, then surges upward in a sudden leap.

One zhang high!

Li Rui landed lightly, his heart leaping with joy.

On his very first attempt, he had already improved his force delivery through the incantation—and achieved such a clear improvement.

If he mastered it deeply, the results would be even more remarkable.

This scene.

Happened to be seen by Wang Zhao.

"M-Master."

He stared at Li Rui, dumbfounded.

What just happened?

Good heavens.

That jump nearly reached the roof—it was terrifying.

Wang Zhao suddenly understood why heroes in novels always claimed to leap onto rooftops and run along eaves.

It wasn't exaggeration—Li Rui had just done it.

Li Rui also saw Wang Zhao: "Little Zhao, you saw that, didn't you? Training has its rewards—keep practicing diligently, don't slack off."

Wang Zhao mumbled a quiet "yes," head bowed.

But whenever training was mentioned, his face fell.

Was it that he didn't want to?

No, he couldn't.

He had tried before—still hadn't even touched the threshold of martial cultivation; continuing now would only strengthen his body, nothing more.

He'd never amount to anything.

Seeing this, Li Rui stopped urging him.

Soon, Yang Yong stepped out of his room, and the three had breakfast.

Li Rui walked out of the compound, hands behind his back, strolling lazily.

(End of Chapter)