17: Chapter 17: Having learned the Yue Maiden Sword Technique, screams echoed from the courtyard.

The smoke was getting thicker and thicker.

Grayish-black smoke seeped out from under the stone door, acrid and pungent, making Yang Yuan's tears stream down. He covered his mouth and nose, crouched low, and retreated towards the depths of the stone chamber, hugging the wall.

The stone chamber was not large, about two zhang square, with stone walls on three sides and a sealed stone door on the fourth. There were no windows, no ventilation, and the smoke couldn't dissipate; it was all trapped inside.

At most, in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, he would suffocate to death.

Yang Yuan forced himself to calm down.

He looked around; the firelight had already gone out, and the stone chamber was pitch black, forcing him to rely on his sense of touch. The stone walls were cold and rough, sounding solid when knocked—it was solid rock.

There was no way out.

He gripped the dark iron fragment tightly, his knuckles turning white.

Wait—dark iron.

He looked down at the object in his hand. This broken sword tip had a texture different from ordinary iron, and its hardness far exceeded that of standard weapons. It had blocked Li Mochou's whisk strike just now without sustaining any damage at all.

If this thing was hard enough...

Yang Yuan walked to the corner on the right side of the stone chamber and knocked on the stone wall with his knuckles.

"Knock, knock."

The sound was crisp, with a hollow echo.

It wasn't solid.

He changed positions and knocked a few more times. The sound across the entire wall was different—dull on the left, crisp on the right, and in the middle was a section about half a foot wide where the sound was exceptionally hollow.

That was the weak point.

Yang Yuan took a deep breath—the smoke flooded his lungs, making him cough and bend over—then he raised the dark iron fragment, aimed at the weak point, and smashed it down hard!

"Clang!"

Sparks flew everywhere. A crack erupted on the stone wall.

Smash again!

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

Every strike used the Internal Energy of the Nine Yang Manual. Stone chips flew, and the crack spread and expanded. By the seventh strike, the stone wall finally couldn't hold, and with a "boom," it collapsed, creating a gap half a person's height.

A gust of damp, cold wind surged out from the gap, carrying the scent of earth and water. Yang Yuan didn't have time to think; he leaned over and crawled inside.

Behind the gap was a narrow passageway that only allowed one person to Move forward while hunched over. The ground was slippery, water droplets seeped from the walls, and the further he went, the louder the sound of water became. Yang Yuan stooped, holding his blade in one hand and supporting himself against the wall with the other, groping his way forward.

The passageway became lower and lower, until finally, he could only crawl forward. He lay on the ground, crawling forward against the cold stone wall, with the increasingly strong smell of smoke behind him and the louder sound of water ahead. After crawling about a hundred steps, the end of the passageway suddenly opened up.

It was a natural karst cave.

The cave ceiling was very high, disappearing into darkness. At the bottom of the cave was an underground river; the water was deep and pitch black, flowing from one dark place to another, with a roaring sound and a biting coldness.

Yang Yuan lay at the entrance of the passageway, looking down.

The surface of the river was about one zhang below him; the water was dark green and flowing quite fast. If he jumped down, he would either be swept away by the current or crash into the submerged reefs at the bottom.

But there was no other choice.

In the passageway behind him, the smoke had already begun to seep in.

Yang Yuan tucked the dark iron fragment into his chest, sheathed his blade, and took a deep breath—the air he inhaled, carrying the dampness and chill of the river water, was ten thousand times fresher than the poisonous smoke in the stone chamber.

He leaped.

The water was extremely cold.

A bone-piercing chill surged in from all directions, like countless needles piercing his skin. Yang Yuan was swept up by the current, rushing forward uncontrollably; his head struck the cave wall, and everything went black before his eyes.

He struggled to surface, took a breath, and was pushed back under by a wave.

The Nine Yang Manual circulated his Internal Energy, and Yang Qi surged from his Dantian, protecting his heart and internal organs so he wouldn't freeze stiff. But the impact of the current was too great; he couldn't control his direction at all and could only drift with the waves. In the darkness, he didn't know how long he had floated. Perhaps a quarter of an hour, perhaps half an hour.

The current gradually slowed, the cave ceiling overhead became higher and higher, and finally, light appeared—faint, grayish daylight.

The exit was ahead.

Yang Yuan struggled to swim towards the bank; his hands and feet were already numb from the cold, and he was relying entirely on sheer willpower. He grabbed the rocks on the bank, his fingernails leaving bloody marks on the rock surface, and rolled onto the riverbank. He lay on his back on the gravel, panting heavily.

Daylight shone in from the cave entrance; it was the afternoon sun. He calculated the time—from entering the Ancient Tomb until now, about three or four hours had passed.

He had made it out alive.

Just then, a line of text flashed before his eyes—

[Task Complete: Explore the Ancient Tomb, obtain the dark iron fragment.]

[Rewards being distributed...]

[Congratulations Host, you have obtained the Intermediate sword technique "Yue Maiden Sword Technique".]

A stream of information poured into his Sea of Consciousness, gentler than the Nine Yang Manual last time, but also more complex. Sword Moves, footwork, movement techniques, and methods of exerting force—a complete System of swordsmanship unfolded in his mind like a scroll. Yang Yuan closed his eyes and digested it quietly. About half an incense stick of time later, he opened his eyes.

Yue Maiden Sword Technique.

This sword technique was different from any he had seen before. It didn't pursue brute force, nor was it soft or feminine; rather, it was eerie—the Moves were tricky, the angles were strange, and the sword was drawn extremely fast, often thrusting from positions the opponent would never expect.

In the words of later generations, this was an "assassin-style" sword technique.

It suited him very well.

His Internal Energy was profound now, but his Moves were crude, with only a set of common, mass-market single-blade techniques. It was enough against ordinary Jianghu people, but against a master like Li Mochou, it was full of flaws.

The Yue Maiden Sword Technique happened to make up for this shortcoming—using speed to defeat slowness, using skill to break force, not seeking a head-on clash, only seeking a fatal strike.

Yang Yuan stood up and moved his stiff limbs. There was plenty of gravel on the riverbank; he picked up a piece, held it in his hand, and tried to thrust it according to the sword Moves in his mind.

"Swish—"

The stone left his hand, flying through the air and embedding itself three inches deep into a tree trunk three zhang away. He looked down at his own hand.

The Yue Maiden Sword Technique did not conflict with the Nine Yang Manual; they could even stack—the deeper the Internal Energy, the faster the sword strike, and the greater the lethality.

He had Internal Skill, he had a sword technique, and he had the dark iron fragment. His strength now was more than double what it had been when he left this morning.

Yang Yuan identified the direction and walked south along the riverbank. After walking about two li, he saw a ferry crossing where a few fishing boats were docked. He spent some broken silver to hire one and had the boatman take him to Jiaxing.

On the boat, he wrung out his soaked clothes and took out the dark iron fragment to examine it closely.

The broken sword tip was jet-black throughout and felt extremely heavy in his hand. The patterns on the blade looked like some kind of formation diagram, or perhaps some kind of writing; he didn't recognize any of it.

What exactly was the use of this thing?

The System called it a "dark iron fragment," Li Mochou called it the "Ancient Tomb Sect's treasure," and Lu Wushuang called it an "ancient relic." Three different claims, all pointing to the same object, but what specific secrets it held, no one could say.

He would put the object away for now and study it when he returned. Yang Yuan tucked the dark iron fragment close to his body, leaned against the boat's side, and closed his eyes to rest.

The boat arrived at the South Gate of Jiaxing by dusk. Yang Yuan paid the boat fare, went ashore, and walked quickly towards the small courtyard in the south of the city.

The alley was very quiet, with every household's doors closed, smoke from cooking fires rising from the rooftops and blending into the twilight. Rounding the last corner, he saw the gate of the small courtyard.

The courtyard gate was wide open.

Yang Yuan's footsteps stopped abruptly.

His courtyard gate was always kept closed. Cheng Ying was at home taking care of the child, and Lu Wushuang was recovering from her injuries; they wouldn't open the gate for no reason.

Especially not wide open like this.

He heard sounds.

Coming from inside the courtyard—the sound of metal clashing, shouting, and a woman's scream.

It was Cheng Ying's voice.

Yang Yuan's pupils constricted sharply.

He drew his single blade, lifted his Qi to lighten his body, and like a streak of black lightning, he rushed towards the courtyard gate!