Wang Xian walked over to the weapon rack.
These training weapons—whether in weight or material—were the real deal.
Most just hadn’t been sharpened.
Since they were meant for student practice, they couldn’t be considered true combat gear.
“Technique…”
Wang Xian’s gaze fell on a spear, his eyes softening as if recognizing an old friend.
Indeed, in his past life, he had wielded a spear.
As the saying went: A month to master the staff, a year for the blade, a lifetime for the spear—the sword stays by your side.
Among the three primary weapons—sword, blade, and spear—spear techniques were the hardest to master.
As the deadliest weapon of ancient battlefields, the best way to hone spear skills was through countless battles.
Back then, he’d trained with the spear because he’d already resolved to enter the alien battlefield.
Decades of slaughter on that battlefield had honed his spear techniques to the Tenth Stage.
Of course, with his current body, replicating that level of skill was impossible.
Breaking through to the next realm of spear mastery was also out of reach—it required at least the Eighth Stage strength of his past life.
Apart from the spear, his other specialty was throwing daggers.
As for other weapons, Wang Xian had little experience and had rarely practiced them.
At most, he’d crossed blades with experts who wielded them.
But now…
His eyes lingered on the blades and swords.
The sword was the mainstream martial art for most students—or rather, for most modern warriors in society.
The reason was simple: Dragon Country’s first Martial God had been a swordsman.
The blade, however, was chosen by only a handful of students.
And the spear? Even fewer, unless they planned to join the military.
Otherwise, the entire school might not have more than a handful of practitioners.
As for hammers, axes, halberds, or claw blades—unless one awakened a corresponding martial talent, almost no one would bother with them.
Reborn into this life, Wang Xian naturally wouldn’t choose the spear again.
For him now, there was no room for improvement in spear techniques.
Instead, he might as well take advantage of this growth phase to master one or two new skills.
With his past-life martial insights and combat instincts, it wouldn’t be difficult.
Besides, if he truly used spear techniques, even Instructor Cui wouldn’t last long.
So…
Wang Xian picked up a xiuchundao—a masterpiece of Dragon Country’s ancient bladed weapons.
After modern refinements in hardness, flexibility, and aesthetics, it far surpassed its historical counterparts.
Even this unsharpened training blade exuded a chilling edge, its contours radiating a faint, deadly aura.
“Swordplay emphasizes intent; blade mastery relies on spirit. Nurture the spirit, and you nurture the blade.”
Cui Sanyan’s voice sounded beside him. “In your first two years, you used claw blades. At the start of senior year, you switched to the sword. Now, why the sudden change to the blade?”
Wang Xian had trained with claw blades because his uncle’s martial school specialized in fist techniques.
He’d grown up influenced by that.
In senior year, after receiving that letter, he’d switched to the sword to impress Chen Yuting.
“I just felt like it,” Wang Xian replied.
“The blade is a fierce tiger; the sword, a soaring phoenix. To master the blade, you must harbor a tiger’s spirit in your heart. If you’ve never trained with it, don’t use it for the assessment.”
Cui Sanyan gave him a penetrating look.
Wang Xian shook his head.
Seeing this, Cui Sanyan didn’t press further.
Soon, the class had all chosen their weapons, forming a circle around the arena.
The combat platform didn’t seem large—about the size of a basketball court—but it was packed with cutting-edge tech.
With millisecond-level holographic scanning, every move in a duel would be analyzed, accurately scoring the fighters’ technique levels and even detecting their vitality ratings.
The entire Rongcheng Martial High had only three of these.
“…You’re serious about this?” Zhou Xukun muttered beside Wang Xian.
He fiddled with a short sword in his hands, his eyes flicking toward the arena.
“About what?”
“You’re really going up for the assessment? With a blade?” Zhou Xukun coughed. “Not that I doubt you, but Cui Sanyan’s famous for his zero-tolerance policy. If you can’t even land a single move… it’ll be humiliating.
“This technique assessment isn’t something you can fake.”
It was a live test, after all, combined with the arena’s analysis.
No wonder it was part of the martial exams.
“If I can’t do it, I’ll just try harder next time,” Wang Xian said.
In his mind, he’d already simulated countless bladework scenarios.
For his first real attempt, he had a rough idea of what to expect.
Zhou Xukun blinked. The words made sense, yet something felt off.
Then, Cui Sanyan leaped onto the platform.
“I’ll restrict myself to 1.0 vitality—standard exam protocol.”
The screen above the arena displayed:
[Cui Guoliang – Vitality: 1.0]
As a Third Stage martial artist, he naturally had to suppress his strength for the test.
“Yuan Xin, you’re first.” Cui Sanyan held a long staff, his tone indifferent.
Yuan Xin, gripping a sword, hurried onto the platform.
The screen updated:
[Yuan Xin – Vitality: 0.39]
Almost exactly as Cui Sanyan had estimated.
It showed just how attentive this homeroom teacher was—he knew his students’ capabilities inside out.
“Attack.” Cui Sanyan stood motionless.
Yuan Xin hesitated briefly before charging, thrusting her sword forward.
But Cui Sanyan didn’t even move his staff. A single backhand slap sent the sword flying.
Yuan Xin staggered, nearly toppling off the platform.
“……” The class fell silent.
The gap was too wide.
Even at 1.0 vitality—barely higher than most students—Cui Sanyan’s skill level was insurmountable.
A single move was all it took.
[Yuan Xin – Sword Technique Score: 26]
The score was abysmal, barely scratching the surface of the basics.
But for a humanities-track student, it was passable.
Cui Sanyan didn’t comment, though the sternness in his eyes made everyone sweat.
At least he’d gone easy on Yuan Xin.
“Next!”
“Weak and sloppy. You can’t even grip the sword properly.”
“With 0.3 vitality, you’re not even using half of your potential strength…”
“How many times must I say it? The blade is about spirit. If you can’t even look me in the eye, why bother?”
……
Cui Sanyan dissected every student’s flaws with surgical precision.
He shook his head repeatedly.
Weapons were extensions of the body.
If these kids could barely handle basic fitness boxing, how could they hope to master weaponry?
Becoming a true warrior was never meant to be easy.
Perhaps most were just waiting to awaken a martial talent—hoping for a shortcut to greatness.
The thought left Cui Sanyan inexplicably disheartened.
Most students felt a flicker of shame but weren’t overly discouraged.
As he’d guessed, they were banking on future awakenings.
Only a handful of the diligent ones frowned, reflecting deeply on their shortcomings.
“Cui Sanyan’s on another level…”
Zhou Xukun rubbed his sore shoulders and muttered, "Barely managed to block two strikes..."
Being able to withstand two moves had already pushed his swordsmanship score to 82.
In the class, he was among the top performers.
If he could reach 100, he’d officially step into the First Dan of swordsmanship.
With that level, he’d qualify to learn some of the more advanced foundational sword techniques.
Li Zihang, who followed shortly after, also scored in the 80s.
Unfortunately, no one had yet managed to survive three strikes from Cui Sanyan.
Then again, just forcing Cui Sanyan to draw his sword was an achievement in itself.
That is, until Chen Yuting stepped forward.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
nce】【Lighthearted Comedy】【Ultimate Gentleman's Novel】【Viewer Discretion Advised for Under 16】 The mightiest human hero, Sharen Morian, is resurrected after a thousand years by his wife—the Demon King. This is not your typical hero-vs-demon-king tale.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
