This sword strike left Adam Thompson utterly shocked, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. Was it possible that such a sword-controlling technique existed in this world?

He acted on instinct and suddenly blurted out, “You are Martin Parker!”

The man grabbed his collar and demanded harshly, “How do you know?”

Countless thoughts surged in Adam Thompson’s chest. Of course he knew—Li Bai’s poetry, Zhang Xu’s calligraphy, and Martin Parker’s sword were known as the three wonders of the Tianbao era.

Adam Thompson was truly excited. This mysterious man who had taught him polo for ten years was actually the Sword Saint Martin Parker!

But… how was he supposed to explain being a prophet?

The man was indeed Martin Parker, holding the post of Zhonglang General of the Imperial Guards, the most renowned swordmaster in Chang’an. Ten years ago, he had begun teaching Adam Thompson polo, but in reality, he was laying the foundation for his martial arts.

Martin Parker released his collar and said gloomily, “I see, your mother told you.”

“Are you… my mother’s relative?”

Martin Parker nodded. “You’re grown up now, so I won’t hide it from you. Your mother is my cousin!”

“If that’s the case, why doesn’t she see you?”

Martin Parker gave a bitter laugh. “If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have met your father, nor would she have ended up like this.”

“‘Ended up’ is a bit much!” The words stung Adam Thompson’s ears.

Martin Parker patted his head apologetically. “That was a poor choice of words. She’s just had a hard time.”

Adam Thompson smiled. “If I’m not named Pei Ye, it means my mother doesn’t regret it. Besides, if she hadn’t met my father, how would I exist?”

Martin Parker was struck by this, as if a stone that had blocked his heart for years was suddenly shattered, and he saw the light. That’s right! All these years, he had never thought of it that way.

In high spirits, he gave Adam Thompson a hearty slap on the shoulder and laughed, “You really have changed completely, you know that? Three years ago, when I used that move, I asked you what it meant. You searched the ground for a long time and said I hadn’t struck the night bird.”

Adam Thompson couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Uncle, that move is the defense in attack and defense, right?”

“You little rascal, always quick to catch on!”

Everyone likes clever children. Martin Parker was in a great mood, finally acknowledging this nephew. He nodded, “That strike really did open your mind. Yes, that’s the defense in martial arts.”

Adam Thompson grinned and asked, “What about the attack?”

Martin Parker drew his sword, and the long blade flew from his hand. The sword shot out swiftly, its cold light flashing, circled around the clay statue, and then flew back. Martin Parker caught it lightly, sheathed it, and smiled, “That’s the attack!”

Adam Thompson stepped forward and pushed the clay statue’s head, puzzled. “But… the neck isn’t severed!”

“Look more closely!”

Adam Thompson examined it again and suddenly noticed that the small stone embedded in the statue’s left eye was gone. Looking down, Adam Thompson was startled—the stone had fallen to the ground and had been split in two.

He murmured, “What kind of swordsmanship is this? I’ve never even heard of it!”

“This isn’t swordsmanship!”

Martin Parker walked over and said, “Do you understand? This is martial arts—the art of attack in martial arts!”

Adam Thompson nodded. “All great paths lead to the same destination!”

“Exactly. In fact, I only know these two moves: attack and defense.”

Adam Thompson’s eyes lit up. “Uncle, are you going to teach me these two moves?”

Martin Parker looked at him. “Do you want to learn?”

Adam Thompson nodded solemnly. “I do!”

Martin Parker sighed. “These two moves are as hard as they are easy. The key is comprehension. But if your level isn’t high enough, you won’t even have the chance to comprehend them. It’s like teaching a three-year-old the heavy hammer technique—no matter how many times you teach him, he won’t get it, because he simply can’t lift an eighty-pound hammer. But when he grows up and can swing it, he might understand it after just one lesson. That’s what level means.”

Adam Thompson nodded. “Only by climbing high can you see far!”

Martin Parker laughed loudly. “You rascal, come with me!”

Chapter 11: Joy Turns to Sorrow

Martin Parker strode to the well, his gaze no longer as cold as before, but much gentler. He had never explained things to the old Adam Thompson—even if he did, that foolish boy wouldn’t have understood. But he needed to explain things clearly to the Adam Thompson before him, so he could better comprehend.

“Practicing martial arts isn’t about learning a few flashy moves. You have to build a physical foundation from a young age. Otherwise, your muscles and bones won’t be able to support lifting two or three hundred pounds.

Your mother gave you medicinal baths since you were little. The recipe was from me, and I also provided the key ingredients. It’s like digging a pond—dig a small one and you get a pool, dig a big one and you get a lake. All martial arts families raise their children this way, starting medicinal baths a few months after birth to strengthen muscles and bones.”

Adam Thompson truly understood. In fact, athletes in his own era were the same—they all started training from a young age.

“What about polo?”

“Polo was to train your eyesight, alertness, speed, and hand-eye coordination, as well as your strength. But more importantly, it was to help you understand control.”

“I’ve already understood that!”

“That’s just the basics. You haven’t truly entered the martial path yet!”