It was the midst of autumn season. The leaves hanging from the branches of the trees had already become dry and shriveled. Under the relentless battering of the cold, autumn breeze, these yellowing leaves finally broke loose of its branches’ shackles as they gently floated down in a chaotic yet somewhat harmonious manner.

However, before these leaves could land on the ground, a cold blast of sword intent swept across these leaves, instantly cleaving them into several pieces. These shredded leaves scattered about as they danced in the sky like golden snowflakes. Under the illumination of the warm glow of dawn, they evoked a beautiful scene about them.

Regrettably, no one was there to appreciate this immaculate sight. Amidst all of this, a single long-haired man donned in snow-white garbs remained completely focused on his own thoughts. His clothes flapped about and he flickered from place to place, leaving countless afterimages of his swordplay in his wake as he continued to slice the falling leaves into pieces.

An incense of time passed, and the flickering shadow finally stopped moving about. He lowered his head slightly as he looked at the fallen leaves around him, silently. He seemed to be completely engrossed in his own thoughts.

This man was Ye Xiuwen. If this were any other day, he would have practiced for a full two hours before concluding his practice. Yet today, he only managed to sustain his practice for only...