Picking Up Attributes In Martial World

Chapter 205: Sword Intent

Ye Jun woke up the next morning feeling a sense of pure bliss. The soft, morning light filtered through the jade-paneled windows, casting a gentle glow over the large sandalwood bed.

In his arms, Song Liangxue and Meihui were still fast asleep, their breathing soft and perfectly synchronized with his own.

He looked down at them, a warm smile breaking across his face. These were his wives, the two women who trusted him with their everything.

In his past life as Weaver, love was a concept he had completely given up on asking for. He had lived in the dark, moving from one bloody contract to the next, trusting no one and expecting nothing.

But in this life, he had been blessed with two incredible partners, not to mention a sweet, fiercely protective mother-in-law like Song Yanyan.

He was truly happy, but as he stared at the two sleeping beauties, a sharp note of caution settled deep into his chest. He knew the rules of this world all too well. If he became complacent, if he allowed this warmth to turn him soft, he would lose all of it.

Previously, he was a cold, bold, and ruthless assassin because he had absolutely nothing to lose. Death was just an occupational hazard. But now, he had everything to lose.

The realization didn’t make him fearful; instead, it gave him such a powerful, unyielding resolve to move forward that he felt ready to face even the universe-ending weight of the Convergence.

To protect this peace, he needed strength. And strength meant practice.

Gently, so as not to disturb them, he placed a soft kiss on each of their heads. They stirred slightly but remained deep in their slumber. Slipping out from beneath the thick fur blankets, Ye Jun walked out into the courtyard.

The courtyard was designed in the traditional ancient style, with white-marble walkways, stone arches, and a single, ancient frozen tree standing near the center. Because of the multi-layered defensive arrays surrounding Liangxue’s personal residence, the heavy snow fell softly here, far less aggressive than the howling blizzards raging outside the Frostwall.

Ye Jun unlatched his heavy silk robes and tossed them onto a nearby stone bench. Standing in the middle of the freezing courtyard with just his pants on, his tall, heavily muscular frame was fully on display.

The intense baptism of the Nine Purple Tribulations had left his physique perfectly sculpted, every muscle fiber dense and buzzing with raw power. Of course, there was no one around to see him.

He dropped smoothly into a cross-legged position directly on the snow-dusted stone. Closing his eyes, he began to circulate his Qi. He spent the first hour entirely in deep meditation, guiding the vast ocean of energy inside his Dantian through his newly tempered meridians, anchoring his Soul Tempering base to the northern environment.

Once his energy was perfectly balanced, he stood up. Moving with deliberate slowness, he began to execute the tough, physically demanding stances provided in the first part of the *Grand Genesis Foundation Sutra*.

His joints popped faintly as he twisted his frame, forcing his weight into positions that would have torn a normal cultivator’s tendons apart. The cold air bit at his bare skin, but his Yang Circulation effortlessly pushed the chill away, converting the frost into a thin layer of steam that drifted off his shoulders.

After finishing the physical conditioning, Ye Jun walked over to the ancient tree. He didn’t draw his Ember Sword. Instead, he reached down and picked up a normal, slender wooden stick from the ground.

He was here to practice his Sword Intent. The concept was still nascent, a newly sprouted seed inside his Sea of Consciousness that needed constant refinement. He didn’t need explosive force, heavy Qi blasts, or destructive speed right now. No, what he needed was absolute subtleness and perfect control.

Holding the stick loosely in his right hand, he closed his eyes, focusing entirely on the faint, sharp resonance within his soul. He began to swing, his movements quiet, smooth, and entirely unhurried. The stick cut through the air without making a single sound.

After a few dozen repetitions, a single, frozen leaf detached from a high branch, drifting lazily down toward the snowy floor.

Ye Jun’s eyes snapped open. Moving with fluid precision, he thrust the wooden stick forward. The tip of the stick caught the leaf perfectly, cutting it precisely in half down the center. Before the two severed pieces could even fall an inch, his wrist flicked three more times in a blur of motion.

*Crack. Crack. Crack.*

The leaf pieces were neatly quartered before they hit the snow.

Ye Jun lowered the stick, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction. *’Tsk. Still too slow,’* he thought, looking at the tiny fragments. Four precise cuts on a single falling leaf seemed to be his absolute physical limit for now without using his full Qi output.

He didn’t like it. If he wanted to survive the entities within the Chasm, this level of speed wouldn’t cut it.

Without a word, he raised the stick again, diving right back into the grueling, repetitive practice, completely focusing his mind on the tip of the wood.

Due to him being so deeply concentrated in his work, his perception had narrowed down entirely to the space around his body. He didn’t realize that not far away, perched comfortably on a high branch of a larger courtyard tree, his mother-in-law was sitting silently, thoroughly enjoying the show.

Song Yanyan had her chin rested in her hand, her dark silk robes blending into the winter shadows as she watched him practice. She was genuinely impressed by his skills. She knew through Liangxue’s reports that it had only been a few months since this boy had started cultivating from scratch. Yet, here he was, already manipulating nascent Sword Intent with a generic stick. Even her own daughter, a top-tier genius of the North, hadn’t managed to awaken Sword Intent yet.

Deciding to tease him a little, she masked her presence entirely and snuck down from the branch. Moving like a silent, warm draft of wind, she glided right up behind his back.

But before she could even open her mouth to speak, Ye Jun’s terrifying, survival-honed instincts flared violently. He didn’t think as his body reacted on pure reflex.

He spun around instantly, the wooden stick in his hand whistling through the air like a lethal blade, aiming directly for her throat with a sudden, vicious burst of nascent Sword Intent.

Song Yanyan’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Bypassing the strike, she lightly flicked her finger against the side of the wood, the subtle ripple of her Ruler Realm Qi effortlessly dispersing his momentum and sending a gentle, warming wave through the stick to keep it from shattering.

Ye Jun managed to pull his strike back just a millimeter away from her hand, his breath coming out in a sudden puff of steam as he recognized her face. "Yanyan? Fucking hell, you almost got a stick to the neck."

"My, what a terrifying reflex," Song Yanyan pouted slightly, though her eyes were sparkling with deep amusement and approval as she looked him over. "I merely wanted to say good morning, yet my son-in-law tried to execute me in my own palace."

She stepped closer, her gaze naturally sweeping across his bare chest and shoulders. "Your reflexes are incredible, Ye Jun. And your physique... no wonder you survived those tribulations."

Standing right next to him, the contrast in their statures became fully apparent. Even among the Northerners, who were famous for their towering height, Ye Jun was exceptionally tall and broad. Song Yanyan herself was noticeably taller than most southern women, yet as she stood before him, she still fell shorter, having to tilt her head up slightly to look into his eyes.

Ye Jun casually tossed the stick onto the stone bench and reached for his outer robes, slipping them back over his shoulders. Having spent the banquet getting acquainted with her eccentric personality, he didn’t feel the need to use stiff, formal scripts anymore. He talked with her in his usual, bold manner.

"If you keep sneaking up on a swordsman during his morning routine, you’re going to end up ruining a perfectly good set of robes," Ye Jun chuckled softly, tying his belt. "So, why did the Matriarch of the North decide to drop by my courtyard so early? Don’t tell me the kitchens ran out of venison."

"Hmph, as if I would be so petty," Song Yanyan laughed sweetly, her long sleeves rustling as she crossed her arms. "I came to invite the three of you to a proper family lunch. Also, I wanted to give you a fair warning."

Ye Jun raised an eyebrow. "A warning?"

"Ever since the news of your arrival and the Purple Tribulation leaked out, many people from the core branch clans and neighboring northern cities have been gathering in Everfrost. They’re practically swarming the outer palace gates just to get a glimpse of you," she explained, her expression turning into a proud, satisfied smile. "So, we plan to hold a massive, formal banquet soon. I am going to announce to the entire world that you are my son-in-law, and properly introduce you to the northern factions as a core member of the Song Clan."

Ye Jun opened his mouth to reply, ready to comment on the absolute hassle of dealing with a public political gathering, but before he could say a single word, Song Yanyan’s playful smile vanished.

Her dark eyes grew incredibly sharp, a cold, solemn gravity instantly replacing her lively mood as she stepped half a foot closer to him.

"And there is one more thing," she said, her voice dropping into a quiet whisper that barely carried across the snowy courtyard. "While checking the ancestral archives last night regarding the fractures in the Chasm... I managed to find some specific things about the Lord."

Ye Jun froze, his gaze locking onto hers as the name hit his ears.

Song Yanyan didn’t continue. She simply gave him a deeply meaningful, heavy look, turned around, and walked out of the courtyard gates without saying another word, leaving the explanation hanging heavily in the cold morning air.