Today, as Lin Yun fought, he felt a clarity in his mind, understanding everything. With each punch, a surge of heat flowed through his body, and in an instant, he grasped the essence of the fist.,The sword naturally didn't belong to him. It was one he maintained for a core disciple of Qingyun Sect. Any sword needs maintenance after being used for a long time.,The blade drew out half an inch, a gust of cold wind sweeping out. Su Ziyao swiftly sheathed the sword again, her movements so fast that one only saw a flash of cold light.。