Chapter 50: Sun Yuying's Sword Quest, Peak Chiefs Reaction and Hostile Observers.

Sun Yuying tried to make a dragon sword that could beat Yang Wei's, but after ten days, she hadn't succeeded.

Not that she couldn't make a better sword, but every time she did, junior disciples would find new broken swords in Yang Wei's cave – even higher quality ones.

Yang Wei was always unhappy with his perfect swords, smashing them before analyzing them, like he knew he'd fail.

Disciples kept searching caves to see if he made a new sword.

What frustrated Sun Yuying was that even the broken swords she compared hers with were better – like Yang Wei was mocking her that she couldn't top his scraps.

No one knew this mystery sword maker, except Wu Fengtian who spilled the beans, claiming he was friends with the disciple.

But here's the catch – Yang Wei was nowhere to be found.

Besides Wu Fengtian, others who visited him for Dragon Vein Cultivation tips never saw him.

It's like he vanished...

Still, Yang Wei's identity became a prominent topic in the sect.

"What if his swords are actually sentient beings that choose him as their master?!"

"I heard his a swordsmith who borrows techniques from the future to match even Core Formation cultivators."

"Well, I heard Big Sister Liu Yan is the one who makes these high quality swords for him!"

"Lies! I heard he has a pet dragon who breathes fire on it to temper it..."

There were countless rumors—each one more ridiculous than the last.

...

In the gazebo where some of the Peak Chiefs gathered for their usual tea time, Xiu Yulan angrily slammed her fist on the table and exclaimed, "This is impossible!"

...

After days of persistent cultivation, Yang Wei finally settled into his study room, opting for a more mental approach to his practice following numerous failed attempts. Behind his desk, he sighed, dropping the Dragon Vein Cultivation scroll which he'd read for the twelfth time that day.

"I've been so fixated on Dragon Vein Cultivation that my spirit roots are barely at the second level of Mortal Realm, and I'm still stuck at the third level. No luck with the supreme dragon sword, either. And I'm sure pushing to the next realm won't help me create one."

Standing up, he paced around his study room, arms tucked behind his back. "The mantra I developed should've been perfect for the ultimate dragon sword, so it can't be the issue," he reasoned. Rubbing his chin, he pondered, "What am I missing? What's the key factor the perfect sword Qi mantra can't fix?"

A knock interrupted his thoughts, and someone called, "Senior Brother Yang, Senior Brother Yang, are you in?" The voice from beyond the door startled him.

"Huh? Did I forget to lock the gate?" Yang Wei asked himself. "That's so unlike me, especially with these mannerless cultivators roaming this living district."

He took a good look at his usually organized study room and saw that it was an absolute mess. "Hm, I really need to condense this supreme sword fast, I feel like it's disorganizing me."

Another knock came, "Senior Brother?" the voice said.

Yang Wei wondered, "No one in the sect calls me that. Why now?" Walking toward the door, he mused, "Wait a minute, that voice sounds familiar."

Upon opening the door, he found Wu Fengtian holding bottles of wine, a sweet smile on his face. "Hehe, good day. I was wondering if Senior Brother wants to have a drink with me," he suggested.

Yang Wei wasted no time in delivering a swift kick to Wu Fengtian's gut which sent him flying ten meters away. Catching the wine bottles mid-air, Yang Wei commented, "Hm, I needed something to help me think."

Wu Fengtian hit the ground hard, but he swiftly got up on his knees, brushing off the dust. Looking over himself, he mumbled, "Not bad, still in one piece." He chuckled, acknowledging the power of his 500 protective talismans. "Those charms really saved my hide; a kick like that would've finished me."

Yang Wei strolled back to his place, wines in hand, prompting Wu Fengtian to rush over. He grabbed Yang Wei's leg, desperation in his eyes. "Senior Brother, hold on! There's something important I must tell you!" Wu Fengtian begged.

An annoyed expression crossed Yang Wei's face as he looked down at Wu Fengtian.

"You weasel, can't it wait? I've got more important things to do."

Meanwhile...

Yuan Po and his crew observed from a distance, their expressions hostile. He tightened his grip on his jian, muttering, "So that's Yang Wei, huh? Interesting..."