Chapter 535 Zhao Ling

"My God! I really saw a living Sword God!" She covered her mouth with both hands, suppressing the scream that was about to burst out, but the light in her eyes could not be hidden. It was incredibly bright, as if it contained the entire galaxy.

She circled around Shen Mo, scrutinizing him from head to toe, as if trying to memorize every detail of him.

"I've heard about your deeds for a long time! One man, one sword, you forced back the Emperor of Japan and protected the entire martial arts world of the Central Plains! I thought those storytellers were exaggerating, but I never expected... I never expected the real person to be even more... even more..." She couldn't find the right words to describe it, her face flushed with anxiety. Finally, she could only stomp her foot forcefully and conclude, "Even more amazing!"

Her actions were completely unpredictable, reflecting the most instinctive and genuine reactions of fans when they meet their idols.

She pulled a neatly folded, plain white handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to Shen Mo somewhat shyly, her voice tinged with pleading and expectation: "Sword God, could you... could you sign my name? Or... or leave me a note? Anything is fine!"

Looking at the flushed face before him, filled with excitement, and feeling the unreserved, fervent adoration, Shen Mo couldn't help but smile. Even within the depths of the Forbidden City, there was such a genuine and endearing soul.

He took the handkerchief, his fingertips touching her slightly cool fingertips, feeling her slight trembling. After a moment's hesitation, he used his finger as a brush, gathering a wisp of pure true energy, and wrote two words in a flowing, elegant style on the smooth silk handkerchief—"Guard Your Heart".

The writing was not in black ink, but rather a faint, almost invisible golden trace. Only from a specific angle could one see the immense sword intent contained within it.

"Guard your heart?" The girl took the handkerchief, carefully holding it in her palm, examining the two words repeatedly, her eyes filled with incomprehension and admiration. "What...does this mean?"

"The ultimate goal of martial arts is not invincibility, but non-contention." Shen Mo's voice was gentle yet firm, like an elder's earnest teaching to a younger generation. "Only by guarding your true self can you avoid being enslaved by external things and subdued by power. This is the true meaning of 'chivalry'."

The girl nodded as if she understood, but still carefully put the handkerchief away, placing it close to her body.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling with an unprecedented light, as if she had made an important decision.

"Sword God, my name is Zhao Ling!" She puffed out her chest and proudly announced her name, then lowered her voice and said mysteriously, "My brother... is that emperor from earlier. I know he's actually afraid of you, but he's even more afraid of those bad people who harm the people! So, don't worry, I'll help you!"

After saying that, she winked playfully at Shen Mo, then turned and ran out of the Imperial Garden like a happy little deer, leaving behind only a string of crisp laughter and that pale purple silhouette, which lingered in the fragrance of the garden for a long time.

Shen Mo gazed in the direction she had left, a slight smile playing on his lips.

This princess is quite interesting.

......

Two hours passed quietly amidst the eaves and brackets of the Forbidden City.

When Zhao Yan stepped into the Imperial Garden again, the sun was already setting in the west.

He was followed by a group of eunuchs and dozens of martial artists with restrained auras and sharp eyes.

These people were all imperial guards and retainers, but at this moment they all held their breath and focused their gazes on the black-clad figure on the stone bench in the imperial garden, their eyes filled with undisguised fanaticism and awe.

A faint smile played on Zhao Yan's lips, the gloom between his brows vanished, replaced by a confident and relaxed air of someone who had strategized perfectly. Clearly, he had made meticulous and effective preparations for the crisis of the foreign troops stationed on the border, and the composure befitting an emperor had finally returned to him.

He walked straight up to Shen Mo, this time with an extremely humble demeanor. Gone were the probing and scheming of their first meeting, and the imposing aura of a ruler; only a heartfelt respect remained.

He bowed slightly, performing a gesture of respect almost that of an equal, and said in a gentle and sincere voice, "Young Master Shen, I've kept you waiting."

Shen Mo rose to return the greeting, understanding dawning on him. This young emperor had finally completely lowered his guard, truly regarding him as a 'Sword God' instead of a potential threat.

Zhao Yan's gaze swept over the trembling, excited martial artists behind him, and he laughed loudly, "Young Master Shen, you may not know this, but these good-for-nothings under my command have long regarded you as their idol, and they wish they could become your disciples." He paused, a perfectly timed blush appearing on his face, as if he were truly "shamelessly" asking, "Therefore, I dare to ask you to stay in this palace for a few more days. I ask for nothing else, only that you teach them a move or two, so they may know what true martial arts are in this vast world!"

These words not only gave Shen Mo face, but also cleverly positioned the speaker as a wise ruler eager for talent.

More importantly, he frankly expressed his recognition of Shen Mo's abilities without reservation.

Shen Mo looked at the young emperor before him, a slight tremor running through his heart. He knew that Zhao Yan's actions were not merely flattery, but rather an attempt to leverage his prestige to consolidate and enhance the core combat strength of the royal army.

"Your Majesty is too kind," Shen Mo said calmly, clasping his hands in a fist salute. "Since Your Majesty has given the order, I will naturally obey."

"Good! Good! Good!" Zhao Yan said "good" three times in a row, his face beaming with joy.

He immediately turned to the head eunuch beside him and said, "Quickly! Prepare 'Shuyu Pavilion' and provide everything to the highest standards! Make sure Young Master Shen is comfortable!"

Shuyu Pavilion was an extremely quiet and elegant villa within the palace, traditionally reserved for the most distinguished guests. This decree further demonstrated Zhao Yan's high regard for Shen Mo.

......

Over the next two days, a figure in black appeared on the training ground deep within the palace. Before the morning mist had even dissipated, hundreds of royal warriors were already lined up in perfect formation, silent and still, awaiting the "Sword God" they admired.

Shen Mo stood on the high platform, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping over the expectant faces below.

He didn't teach any earth-shattering secret techniques, but instead chose the hard skill he had acquired in the Black Wind Gang—the Iron Shirt Technique. Although this technique was rudimentary, it was the most solid foundation.

He knew that for these martial artists who had consumed elixirs and pursued quick success, returning to simplicity and rebuilding their foundation was the greatest help they could receive.

"The way of martial arts begins with the first step and is perfected by the will." Shen Mo's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. "The Iron Shirt technique may seem clumsy, but it is actually about using flesh and blood to hone one's will and forge one's bones. Every inch of flesh and blood contributes to one's skill, and it cannot be mastered without great perseverance."