Oh no, the ice block seems really pissed off

The rain never came.

But the atmosphere was now unbearably awkward.

Li Mo’s laughter gradually died down as he realized something was off.

The sensation in his hand wasn’t right.

Puzzled, he gave it a squeeze—firm yet soft, with an unsettlingly perfect elasticity...

Nine out of ten, no, ten out of ten, this was very wrong!

His gaze stiffly trailed downward.

“!”

“This is… a misunderstanding…” Li Mo’s throat went dry.

Ying Bing’s neck flushed crimson, her face an icy mask, her eyes glazed like mist-covered pools.

Go on. I’m listening.

“Ahem…”

Under that gaze, Li Mo’s confidence withered.

He was now seriously reconsidering whether the Autumn Water Pavilion was still a safe place to stay.

From now on, sleeping with his eyes closed would be impossible—once shut, they might never open again, forever frozen wide like brass bells.

“Well… it’s like ‘skill bordering on the Dao,’ you know? The Great Dao has forty-nine aspects, but one escapes its grasp…”

“That ‘one’ just… happened to be right there.”

Li Mo wasn’t sure if the ice block would buy this explanation.

He’d just been too focused on training!

And who could’ve guessed that the flaw in Ying Bing’s defense would be her… rear flaw?

Ying Bing’s jade-like face turned even frostier.

The silence thickened. She said nothing.

Instead, she pulled out a large-headed doll from her robes.

Huh?

Li Mo blinked. Why did that doll look familiar?

Crack—

The ice block twisted the doll’s head clean off, putting considerable force into it.

Li Mo: “!”

His neck suddenly felt drafty, a phantom pain creeping in.

Was this some kind of voodoo doll made from his hair or something?

But then, he watched as Ying Bing stowed away her Frostblade and drew a ruler instead.

“Good thing this is a spatial treasure…”

“Again.”

“Huh?”

A cold sweat dripped down Li Mo’s back.

Ying Bing’s voice was glacial. “That last round was my loss. I’ll honor the wager—think about what you want.”

“Now. Again.”

“Again?!”

Before Li Mo could protest, the ruler was already whistling through the air.

Strange.

This time, Ying Bing’s swordplay—that elusive “one”—was gone, replaced by an even more domineering, relentless force.

Even with his Nine Swords of Dugu, he couldn’t find an opening. At least, not at his current level of mastery.

And so, for the next hour, Li Mo’s backside endured a tempest of disciplinary strikes.

Thwack…

“What’s all that noise so early in the morning?”

Shang Wu peeked down from the upper floor.

The sight in the courtyard jolted her awake, her drowsy beauty sharpening into alertness.

She scratched her head and yawned.

“What fresh mischief is this…?”

---

Before long, the “sparring” concluded.

Ying Bing stored the ruler and returned to her room.

Li Mo wanted to collapse onto a lounge chair, but the ruler’s strikes had left his backside tender—no visible injuries, yet even the slightest pressure stung.

Sigh.

The gap between him and the Heaven’s Chosen in swordsmanship was still vast.

Even if he was already among the top of his generation.

So what had happened earlier? Why had she suddenly left such a glaring… opening?

Had she gone easy on him?

And…

Back then, he’d been too fired up, thinking, I just mastered the basics of Nine Swords of Dugu—how dare she humiliate me like this?

And then he’d lost his cool.

“She even helped scrub my back yesterday… She’s definitely mad now.”

Li Mo rubbed his temples.

Ying Bing was his top investor, after all.

His sugar mommy, so to speak.

What to do?

“The ice block doesn’t really have any hobbies or preferences…” Li Mo scratched his head, genuinely stumped.

Just then, a system notification chimed:

[Congratulations, Host! Successful investment in ‘Ying Bing’—helping her identify flaws in her swordplay.]

[Investment Reward: One Drop of Primordial Frost Nectar]

[Primordial Frost Nectar]: “The oldest essence of ice in the world, condensed over ten thousand years into a single drop. A sacred treasure for nourishing the soul and refining spiritual intent!”

---

Meanwhile, in her room…

After shutting the door, Ying Bing slowly walked to her Frostbone Jade bed and sat down.

Yet the moment she made contact, a tingling sensation—like an electric current—shot through the very spot that had been struck earlier.

The composure she’d maintained for so long finally shattered.

“Hah…”

She wanted to erase the memory of what had happened.

But the system notification rudely popped up again:

[Congratulations, Host! Reward successfully claimed!]

“Tch.”

Ying Bing pressed her lips together and flicked her sleeve, dispelling the irksome text.

Only after several deep breaths did the strange fluttering in her chest begin to fade.

Every time she ranked below Li Mo, not only did she suffer the “loser’s penalty,” but she also received these absurd rewards!

She could not, under any circumstances, lose to him again.

Truthfully, Ying Bing still didn’t understand how Li Mo had outranked her last time.

“How did he… manage to hit me?”

“His swordsmanship suddenly became… bizarre.”

“Did he touch the threshold of ‘skill bordering on the Dao’?”

Her eyes flickered with contemplation.

After a moment, she shook her head.

No.

He had brushed against that threshold, but only barely.

Once she’d shaken off external distractions, his strange swordplay couldn’t exploit any more loopholes.

He hadn’t been practicing the hammer recently, so what had caused it?

The answer eluded her for now.

“All I can do is grow stronger.”

Ying Bing took a deep breath.

After all, Divine Skyheart Sword Art was a transcendent martial art, profound and boundless, representing the pinnacle of combat in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.

Mastering it wasn’t something she could achieve overnight—it demanded relentless refinement and practice.

But earlier…

Sparring with Li Mo had exposed certain shortcomings in her technique.

“The first stance still lacks seamless fluidity…”

Yet as she reflected, her thoughts inevitably circled back to Li Mo’s final strike—that move which barely qualified as a “sword technique.”

The memories she’d tried to suppress now replayed relentlessly in her mind…

---

In the days that followed, Li Mo’s routine became simple.

Observing divine forms. Tempering his soul. Practicing the sword.

Since that day, Ying Bing’s ruler had made daily contact with his backside.

Still, there were benefits.

His Nine Swords of Dugu was steadily progressing toward the “small mastery” stage.

One morning, Li Mo sank his consciousness into his dantian.

Under the glow of his Mystic Core, the avatar of his soul flickered with intricate, ever-shifting divine runes—each one painstakingly carved through his observations of the divine.

In just a few days, the newly unlocked acupoints had stabilized completely!

Much of this was thanks to the daily drops of Primordial Frost Nectar and the Phoenix Empress’s Ascension Diagram.

“Every person’s soul can bear different divine forms.”

“The ice block observes more than one. I wonder what other forms mine will manifest…”

Li Mo exhaled softly.

Soon after, a knock came at the Autumn Water Pavilion’s door.

A few expected visitors had arrived.

“Junior Brother Li, we’re heading out to Cloud Province!”

Ouyang, lugging a hefty bundle of painting supplies, waved cheerfully.