The morning mist rolled across the floating peaks of the Flying Sword Sect like silk draped over jade. On the Cliff of Reflection, Yuan sat cross-legged with the ancient zither resting across his lap.

Below him, several inner court disciples watched with skeptical curiosity. Word had spread like wildfire that an unregistered novice with a cripple's background in the mortal world had achieved a 100% resonance rating with the Heavenly Dao stone.

“He’s just an invalid playing toys,” scoffed Chen Long, a talented sword cultivator ranking among the top ten disciples. “Let us see if his music can stop my Gale Blade!”

With a thunderous roar, Chen Long unsheathed his sapphire sword, riding a gust of wind toward the cliff. His blade hummed with thirty-six overlapping wind-slashes capable of carving iron.

Yuan did not open his eyes. He gently plucked the third string—the String of the Autumn Zephyr. A ripple of translucent jade soundwaves expanded from the wooden body. The thirty-six sword-slashes dissolved into harmless breezes, and Chen Long found his spiritual sword gently plucked from his grip, hovering serenely in the air above Yuan’s head.