“Forget it, let’s not talk about that. What worries me most right now is the eldest.” James Clark shook his head. “Emily has liked playing with swords and spears since he was a child, but he just doesn’t have the talent. At first, we let him practice martial arts, thinking he’d give up and come back on his own, but who would have thought he’s still up on the mountain and refuses to come down.”

“I’ve already had Little David urge him several times, but he doesn’t seem to have any intention of coming down at all.” John Clark was also helpless—there was only one oddball like Emily Clark in the whole clan.

Everyone else went into business, joined the army, or became officials—those are the proper paths. But him? He ran off to a rundown dojo, and has been gone for over three years, still not planning to return.

He’s already twenty, still living off the family at this age, while his younger siblings are already capable of handling things on their own. And he’s the eldest of the main branch.

These days, no matter how strong a martial hero is, can he really compare to the might of soldiers in battle? Last time, some so-called martial arts master tried to rob the rich to help the poor, but as soon as he was surrounded by dozens of spears and over ten repeating crossbows fired at him, whether he was a bug or a dragon, he ended up on the ground.

“What you really need to learn is the skills for the battlefield. Those one-on-one fights in the martial world—what’s the use? Like me, after being recruited, I became a petty constable.” John Clark frowned. In his youth, he’d roamed the martial world, and in terms of martial arts, he was second to none for miles around.

“In a while, it’ll be the Lantern Festival. By tradition, Emily will come down the mountain and return home. At that time, the second, third, and fourth brothers will all come back, and your two will come home too. Then let him compare himself with his younger siblings and see what the right path really is. Cut off his allowance, and he’ll naturally understand what’s most important.” James Clark said slowly.

“Comparison? That’s actually a good idea.” John Clark stroked his chin and beard. “Big brother, you always have a way. Let him see how his younger siblings, who used to be inferior to him, are now doing so well. People are afraid of comparisons—maybe that’ll wake him up.”

Chapter 5 Lantern Festival (Part 1)

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, more than two months had passed.

Henry Clark had spent nearly three months on the mountain practicing swordsmanship. In fact, he was more interested in the internal art of the Small Guiyuan Technique than in swordsmanship, but to his regret, his constitution was completely unsuited for practicing this internal art.

The Small Guiyuan Technique had very high requirements for one’s constitution, and only a very small number of people could practice it. This was also the key reason why the Hong Song Sect had declined to its current state.

With no other choice, he could only diligently practice the Hong Song Sword Technique.

Hiss!

A faint mist shrouded the dojo at the mountain’s summit.

Henry Clark, dressed in a black Daoist robe, his long hair tied up in a topknot, held a wooden sword in his hand and thrust it forward with agility and precision, producing a sharp whooshing sound.

“Turn!”

He shouted in a low voice, and the wooden sword suddenly flicked to the left. Instantly, another whooshing sound rang out in the air.

The sword tip struck the same spot again from a different angle.

“Not bad. You kid…” Charles Cooper stood not far away, eyes wide in disbelief. “You were so clumsy at first—how did you suddenly get the hang of it?”

Yvonne Harris and Edward Grant, the brother and sister, quickly applauded from nearby.

“As expected of our senior brother! You’ve grasped the essence of the Songyang Needle so quickly!”

Yvonne Harris shamelessly praised in a loud voice.

“Nonsense! This kid took two months to master the Songyang Needle, while you finished that sword move in just a week. How can you say that with a straight face?!” Charles Cooper said angrily.

This guy had left the sect before, but deep down, he still had strong feelings for the Hong Song Sect. He’d originally intended to come back, take the secret techniques, and leave, but was surprised to find that the sect was down to its last roots. In the end, he stayed to teach the few disciples martial arts.

He changed into a gray-white Daoist robe and walked up with a wooden sword.

“Yvonne Harris, your turn!”

“Yes.” After spending so much time together, Yvonne Harris could tell that this uncle was just sharp-tongued but soft-hearted. Smiling, she picked up her sword and stepped forward.

The two of them took their places in the center of the courtyard, facing each other.

Henry Clark stepped aside to watch them spar.

“Watch closely—this is the real Songyang Needle!”

As soon as Charles Cooper finished speaking—

Hiss hiss hiss!!

Three crisp sounds in a row. The wooden sword in his hand suddenly lifted, splitting like a flash of lightning into three shadows, all stabbing toward Yvonne Harris at once.

As the three sword shadows neared Yvonne Harris, they instantly merged into a single point.

Clang!!

Yvonne Harris lifted her sword tip upward, just in time to meet the sword shadow from below. The sword shadow was deflected upward, passing over her head.

“This move—Dingzhen Huanyang! Good!” Charles Cooper seemed pleased, and with lightning speed, withdrew his sword and thrust again.

This thrust was incredibly fast, aimed straight at Yvonne Harris’s chest—almost too quick to see.

“Uncle, you’re bullying me!!” Yvonne Harris cried out, hurriedly blocking with her wooden sword, but with a crack, it broke instantly. She herself staggered back several steps before barely regaining her balance, her face flushing for a moment.

“Third level of the Small Guiyuan Technique—haha, how’s that for explosive power?” Charles Cooper laughed shamelessly. “You’re already at the second level—work a bit harder and you’ll be just like me.”

“Uncle~~!!” Yvonne Harris protested.

He put away his sword and looked at the siblings Edward Grant and William Grant standing to the side.

“As for these two little ones, not too bright—how did senior brother end up taking them up the mountain?”