Chapter 9: Notes of a Foundation Establishment Disciple of the Heaven Sword Sect (1)

Notes of a Foundation Establishment Disciple of the Heaven Sword Sect (1)

March 3rd, clear.

Today, Brother Jin went again to challenge Brother Li to a fight.

The outcome, as always, was another crushing defeat.

Some say Brother Jin possesses an indomitable spirit.

He will surely go farther on the arduous path of cultivation.

I do not think so.

Brother Jin is a scion of a prominent family within the sect and has always looked down on disciples without background.

Brother Li was born a beggar and entered the sect already at forty.

Logically, he should have missed the best age for body tempering and Foundation Establishment.

Yet Brother Li’s talent is unparalleled, as if a celestial immortal had descended to earth.

He grasped the sword intent in ten days, drew spiritual energy into his body, and became the first among his peers to achieve Qi Refining.

This stirred Brother Jin’s envy.

Yet every challenge ended in defeat against Brother Li.

No, it is not envy.

It is resentment—resentment at being trampled by a lowly beggar.

I come from an ordinary family, with only a few acres of poor land.

My parents rented land from a local wealthy household to farm and support the family.

Thus I played in the fields from childhood.

I was close friends with the children of other tenant farmers.

One day, the wealthy household’s son came to the fields for no apparent reason.

Seeing one of my friends was strong, he challenged him to an arm-wrestling match.

My friend had labored in the fields since childhood; though his diet was poor, he possessed real strength.

He easily defeated the wealthy boy.

The wealthy boy refused to accept defeat and began regularly challenging my friend.

That year, drought struck the fields, and the harvest failed entirely.

My friend had no food, lost his strength, and was easily defeated by the wealthy boy.

Afterwards, the wealthy boy sneered: “Lowly peasant, you only won by trickery. How could a noble like me possibly lose to a peasant?”

At these words, my friend froze.

Through all those matches, my friend had come to regard the wealthy boy as a friend.

He never expected this—upon returning home, he was utterly despondent.

At year’s end, my friend’s family had no grain left and sold him into servitude to the wealthy household.

A year later, I heard the news: my friend had been beaten to death by the wealthy boy.

Later, after I began cultivation, I went to seek revenge.

I asked the now fat, bloated wealthy boy why he had done it.

He replied: “A servant must behave like a servant. How could a servant ever be stronger than his master?”

Hearing this, I flew into rage and tore that fat pig apart limb from limb.

Now, I see the shadow of that pig in Brother Jin.

If Brother Jin ever wins, he will never spare Brother Li.

Yet, thinking again, it is impossible.

Brother Li has already comprehended the sword intent like a rainbow; Brother Jin is still far behind.