Lord Seventh said, “My subordinates gifted me this to fiddle around with. It is rather magnificent, but I am a poor student--it is useless if I hold on to it. It is cumbersome to wield too, as it is too dense. You can have it.”

Zhang Chengling went “ah”, his eyes red-rimmed, a little at a loss on what to do.

Lord Seventh said, “A marvellous sword should be given to a hero, even if he will only become a hero in the future. There is no hope for me, who'll be nothing more than a wealthy loafer in this life. Take it, and do your best not to let it down.”

Zhou Zishu said seriously, “Our gratitude to Lord Seventh.”

Lord Seventh laughed lightly, slanting a gaze at him, and said meaningfully, “Our friendship has lasted some years now--we’ve fought together, gambled with our lives together. You joke and play around with others like that, but why do you become so serious and boring once you turn to me?

Zhou Zishu paused, taken aback.

Lord Seventh flapped his hand, turned around and walked back to his room, saying, “Zishu, I am no longer the Nanning Lord, and you are no longer Lord Zhou. With your intelligence, have you, astonishingly, not figured it out?”

Zhou Zishu was silent for a moment. Then a smidgen of relief suddenly flashed across his face. Laughing aloud, he said to Lord Seventh, “Of course I do not dare joke around. Lord Seventh has such beautiful features, I’m afraid that my jar of vinegar at home will crack.”

Lord Seventh halted in his tracks, but he was not angry. He merely glanced back at him, torn between hilarity and awkwardness, shook his head in resignation, and entered the room.

Zhou Zishu did not sleep for the whole night. He taught Zhang Chengling a set of sword techniques in the courtyard, and the youth watched attentively with swollen eyes. He was still slow to learn; he had to watch a move that any other person would learn by seeing it once demonstrated a few times and ask about every aspect of it until he understood it completely, before they could move on to the next.

Afterwards, he took out brush and paper, and drew every move that Zhou Zishu had taught on the paper. On the side, he noted down the mantra and took messy notes, as though he wished to jot down every word that Zhou Zishu had said.

Zhou Zishu asked, “What are you drawing this for? Won’t it do to just practice when you go back?”