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Between the mountains, Xu Qiuming, with a straw hat on his head and clad in purple, walked along the mountain path. His head was slightly bowed, a blade of grass in his mouth, with two treasured swords hanging at his waist and a gourd on the other side, looking very much like a wandering swordsman.
Behind him, followed another person.
It was none other than Yang Jun.
Yang Jun, now looking to be in his early forties, followed behind Xu Qiuming, maintaining a distance of seven steps. Yang Jun appeared very nervous, as if he was afraid of losing sight of him.
"Your talent in the Sword Dao is mediocre, even if I teach you swordsmanship, it would be a waste of time,"
Xu Qiuming, walking ahead, said nonchalantly.
Yang Jun hastily replied, "I'm not afraid of wasting time. If I cannot attain the Dao, what's the point of cultivating for a long time? I implore you, senior, to give me a chance; I am willing to work like an ox and horse for you!"