That afternoon when Shiyue and her family went to the amusement park, Yichen was fiercely swinging Stellar Blade in the courtyard.

He mimicked the Soul Force Wielder who’d saved him that night—stance set, hacking sideways, slashing downward, thrusting straight ahead.

From 3 PM to 5 PM, he’d swung nonstop for nearly two hours. Collapsing onto a stone bench, he set Stellar Blade aside and gulped water.

Ten minutes later, he grabbed the blade again. Sweat drenched him, yet a fierce joy surged through his veins, driving him onward.

The courtyard gate creaked open. Zixuan stepped in, dressed casually in a white tee and pink skirt. Her eyes locked onto Yichen instantly. Surprise flickered across her face as she approached.

“What are you doing, Yichen?”

He halted mid-swing. “Ah, Jiejie… just practicing. This Stellar Blade feels surprisingly natural in my hands.”

Zixuan glanced at the blade, then smiled knowingly. “Want to spar with me?”

“Sparring?”

“Mhm. I’ll be your opponent. Attack me with everything you’ve got.”

“But…” Yichen hesitated. He remembered her terrifying power from that night. Sparring with her felt like courting disaster.

Zixuan strode to the bamboo grove. She reached out—and white light blades shot from her palm. They sheared off branches until only a one-meter stalk remained in her grip. White particles then swirled from her hand, sinking into the bamboo until it glowed with a soft, pearl-like luminescence.

She turned to Yichen’s stunned face, smiling. “I just compressed Soul Power into blades. Then reinforced this bamboo.”

“So Soul Power can be used like this…” Yichen moved toward the grove.

“Use your Stellar Blade,” Zixuan said.

“But it’s razor-sharp.” He recalled how it had sliced through monster claws that night.

“I’ll be fine.”

“But…”

“Trust me. Even a direct hit won’t cut me. Tell you what—if you land one strike, you win.”

Yichen stared at her. Dressed like this, she looked like a delicate pure-hearted beauty—slender limbs bared, skin flawless as porcelain. The thought of Stellar Blade drawing blood from her made his chest ache.

He still looked worried.

Zixuan paused, thinking. “Try striking me. Gently at first. Then harder.” She stood ready.

“Okay… be careful, Jiejie.” Steeling himself, Yichen swung Stellar Blade toward her shoulder. He’d stop instantly if it touched her.

The blade halted a centimeter from her shoulder—blocked by invisible force. Yichen pushed harder. A translucent white shield shimmered into view.

“What’s this?”

“My Soul Power barrier. Go all out now.”

Yichen pulled back and slashed with full force. The blade didn’t budge.

“See? Safe now?”

“Yeah… okay.” Yichen hesitated. “Jiejie, what exactly is this sword? It appears and vanishes by my will. And it feels… familiar.”

“Of course. It’s your Soul Weapon—forged from your own Soul Power.” Zixuan’s empty hand clenched. A snow-white longsword materialized. “This is mine. Stellar Mark.”

“Soul Weapon… Does every Soul Force Wielder have one?”

She nodded. “But few bear True Names like ours.”

“True Names?”

“Think of them as personal names.”

Yichen studied Stellar Mark. “Our weapons look like matching pairs.”

Zixuan smiled faintly. Stellar Mark vanished. “Now attack. No holding back.”

“Alright! Here I come!”

Yichen charged. Zixuan flicked the bamboo rod—deflecting Stellar Blade effortlessly. Her movements were fluid, erasing all traces of fragility.

“Where’d you learn these moves?”

“Copied the three Wielders who saved me.”

Zixuan nodded, parrying another horizontal slash. Yichen poured his strength into every strike, yet her bamboo barely twitched.

“Your form’s correct. But too rigid. And you’re not channeling Soul Power properly.”

“How should I—” Yichen thrust forward. Zixuan sidestepped by a hair’s breadth, creating distance.

“Knowing isn’t enough without foundation.”

“Got it!”

Spotting the wall behind her, Yichen grinned and swung hard. Zixuan leaped lightly to the courtyard’s center.

“Never let enemies read your thoughts mid-fight.”

Yichen pivoted, nodding fiercely. He tried feints, desperate lunges—every strike blocked or dodged. Yet his grin never faded.

“Haaah!” He charged again. This time, Zixuan didn’t deflect—she met Stellar Blade head-on. The impact numbed Yichen’s wrist. He stumbled back two steps.

Then he saw it: Zixuan’s stern expression, worry shadowing her eyes.

*Snap!*

Her bamboo rod cracked against his shoulder.

“Ow!” Yichen clutched the spot.

Zixuan’s brows knotted. “That leaves you wide open.”

A sharp strike to his side doubled him over. Her leg swept out—he crashed onto the ground.

Bamboo pointed at his chest. “Get up. Enemies won’t wait.”

Gritting his teeth, Yichen rose, blade raised. Zixuan charged.

*Snap!*

*Snap-snap!*

*Snap-snap-snap!*

The rod rained down. No defense worked. Every counterattack missed. Stellar Blade seemed repelled by her presence; the bamboo was magnetized to his skin. Skill gap. Hopelessness. The strikes didn’t break skin—but each throbbed like fire.

Yichen hadn’t expected such brutality. Only sheer will kept him from screaming or fleeing. *If I back down now… she’ll never let me join the Soul Force Academy.*

Zixuan’s speed was inhuman. Her angles cruel. Not once could he block her bamboo.

A sweeping kick to his calf sent him sprawling. Her face was ice—eyes demanding he rise.

*She’s changed,* Yichen thought bitterly. *The sister who fretted over a paper cut… now this cold stranger.* (She held back—any real strike would’ve shattered bones. But cumulative pain was its own torture.) Twenty minutes bled away. No mercy in sight.

*(Is she trying to kill me?!)*

Every muscle screamed. He forced himself upright, stance trembling.

“On battlefields,” Zixuan said flatly, “a moment’s lapse means death.”

*(Damn it… must Soul Force Wielders always gamble with their lives?)*

His legs shook—not from fear, but from hundreds of impacts. He hated this helplessness. Hated her looking down on him.

Resentment flared. *Why must I be beneath her? I wanted her to lean on me!*

*Fine. All or nothing.*

He’d tackle her if he couldn’t strike her.

Gripping Stellar Blade, he coiled to charge. Zixuan raised her bamboo, ready.

Yichen exploded forward. Three steps would close the gap. He’d channel his last strength—not to hit her with the blade, but to crash into her body! *The rules never said I had to land a strike with the sword!*

On the second stride, agony ripped through his foot. Balance shattered. He pitched forward—forehead aimed straight at the sharpened bamboo tip. Reinforced by her Soul Power, it could pierce his skull.

Panic flashed across Zixuan’s face. She yanked the bamboo aside—

—and Yichen slammed into her, pinning her to the ground.