Chapter Five: The Blade Resounds with Thunder, Cleansing the Marrow and Forging the Form

These maidservants had served Lu Wu since childhood; having seen him bare-bottomed more times than they could count, they held little awe for him.

Lu Wu was a transmigrator who had never bothered to put on the airs of a master before them. While he maintained a facade in front of others to prevent the housekeeper from punishing the girls, life within his own courtyard was boisterous and casual, more like a gathering of friends—a truly joyful existence. Moreover, the position of a young master’s personal maid was traditionally a precursor to becoming a concubine, a reality that both Lu Wu and the five maids had long since accepted.

Lu Wu glared at them, but it served no purpose; instead, it only triggered a fresh round of giggles. Seeing that intimidation was useless, he walked to the weapon rack on the left, pulled out a long saber, and stood in the center of the courtyard. He held the blade in his arms, lowered his eyelids, and closed his eyes.

At this, the girls finally ceased their laughter, standing solemnly in place and adjusting their breathing as they waited for him to begin. The training ground fell into a dead silence; even the wind seemed to have stilled.

A moment later, Lu Wu’s eyes snapped open. Before he even moved, the long saber suddenly began to hum. The sound resonated like the roar of a dragon, causing one’s blood to sink, bones to vibrate, and inducing a nauseating sense of unease.

As the hum began, Qiutong and the five maids—Mei, Lan, Zhu, and Ju—each took deep breaths, stretching their limbs and guiding their inner energy to the rhythm of the blade. Their originally soft, feminine lines were replaced by bulging muscles, and their skin took on a faint, iron-blue sheen.

This was the moment they had been waiting for.

Among the external martial arts, there was a supreme secret technique known as "Thunder-Sound Body Cleansing," which utilized sonic vibrations to penetrate the bone marrow and refine the blood. However, because the rhythm, intensity, and pacing of these techniques varied, they were not universally compatible. One had to practice the same martial art, ensuring the circulation of blood and energy remained perfectly synchronized with the sonic vibrations to benefit from the cleansing.

Lu Wu kept his eyes shut, stepped into a stance, and slashed forward. He then stepped up, drew the blade in a swirling motion, and rotated his body; the light of the saber circled him like a mountain waterfall cascading down. As the blade turned and flowed, the humming rose and fell with a rhythmic cadence, driving the circulation of the body’s blood and the vibration of the marrow.

This was the opening sequence of the "Eighteen Slashes of Crag and Ridge"—"Flying Stream Circling the Mountain."

Of course, this was the practice form, not the killing style. If he were to trigger the "Thunder-Sound" for combat, it would not be to cleanse the body, but to maximize lethality. In legitimate martial arts, disciplines were usually divided into practice forms and killing styles; even if they shared a name, they were not to be confused. Practice forms were designed for self-improvement and acclimating the body to specific ways of exerting force, and the movements were typically far more complex than their lethal counterparts. For instance, the practice form of "Flying Stream Circling the Mountain" involved forty-three variations and six types of breathing and circulation techniques, taking at least half a quarter of an hour to complete. In contrast, the "killing style" version consisted of a single rotation and a strike—a defensive counter-attack executed in less than half a second.

The "Eighteen Slashes of Crag and Ridge" was the signature skill of General Leishan of the Tu Kingdom, one of the sixteen surviving war-soul soldiers washed by the waters of the Yellow Springs within the Banner of Ten Thousand Ghosts. This style required a heavy weapon like a long saber or a heavy axe to be effective. While it was not the most lethal blade technique in Lu Wu’s memory, it was peerless for tempering the physique and solidifying one’s foundation. In his day, General Leishan had been trapped in an encirclement, fighting for a day and a night with the vigor of a dragon; he had carved a bloody path through countless enemies, only falling in battle when his mount collapsed from exhaustion, leading to his soul being harvested by the cultivators of Yin Wind Valley to be forged into a soldier.

As Lu Wu unleashed the blade technique, the humming shifted from a dragon’s roar to the boom of thunder. Wherever the saber pointed, the sound erupted like lightning streaking across the sky. With each wave of sound, the breathing of Mei, Lan, Zhu, and Ju became increasingly rapid and explosive. The air they exhaled was as scorching as a white arrow, solidifying and refusing to dissipate as it shot seven feet outward. Their skin transitioned from iron-blue to a glowing, molten-iron red. This was a sign that their "Iron Cloth Shirt" technique was nearing perfection, indicating that their blood and energy had successfully opened the countless tiny meridians between their muscles and skin. If they could advance one step further, the technique would return to its natural state, leaving their skin fairer and more delicate than that of ordinary people.

As for Qiutong, her joints clicked and popped, her already tall frame growing another half-foot, and her skin became moist and jade-like, appearing somewhat translucent under the sun. If one looked closely, the color and texture of her skin were remarkably similar to Lu Wu’s.

Lu Wu was not a particularly diligent person; having fallen into a comfortable life, he was devoted to enjoying it. However, he valued his life far more than he valued laziness. Although he had been reborn into a wealthy family, this world was not particularly peaceful. The Lu family were affluent merchants with shops, farms, caravans, and fleets in every county, keeping them well-informed. An enterprise of this scale could not be run by Lu Liu or Lu Jinhe alone. The family, including direct and collateral branches, numbered in the thousands. During festivals, branches from all over would send representatives to offer gifts and report on their business. From childhood, Lu Wu had heard and seen plenty.

Nations fought for territory, clans struggled for power and profit, and even impoverished villages bickered over water sources and farmland. In this world, it was not uncommon for people to tear each other apart over the smallest trifles. Competition among great merchants was even more blood-soaked. Bribing local officials and engaging in unfair competition were the least of it; ambushing caravans, stealing secret formulas, and sabotaging workshops—there was a wealth of underhanded maneuvering beneath the surface.

The Lu family had to maintain thousands of private soldiers and hired muscle just to keep their business afloat. That was why Lu Wu practiced martial arts to some extent—to avoid being caught off guard when trouble inevitably arrived. His family was happy to see this, even allowing him to move to Wutong Manor on the outskirts of Baishi County—partly because his "Thunder-Sound Body Cleansing" was truly unpleasant to listen to.

An hour later, Lu Wu sheathed his saber, and the thunderous ringing slowly faded away. The five maids retracted their energy, and their forms and skin tones returned to normal. The "Iron Cloth Shirt" training naturally strengthened the body, and the practice form of the "Eighteen Slashes of Crag and Ridge" was an unrivaled technique for tempering the body from the outside in and nourishing one’s essence. The synergy of these two disciplines was the primary reason why Lu Wu and the five maids were all over eight feet tall, far exceeding the average height of ordinary people.

This hour was the extent of Lu Wu’s daily effort; the rest of his time was naturally reserved for leisure and entertainment. If not for the fact that being reborn into a flesh-and-blood body left him with a lingering sense of vulnerability, he would not have bothered with even this much.

Wasn't a leisurely, happy life good enough? Why tire oneself out? He had no ambition as a transmigrator to conquer the world. As for immortality—having once been an Outer Realm Heavenly Demon and a magical artifact spirit, he wasn't without clues—but that was a long way off. Now was the time to enjoy life.

First, a cluster of grapes, then some watermelon, followed by a nap under the firm massage of his maids. Happy times flowed like water, and in the blink of an eye, the day had turned to night.