Chapter 50: A Venomous Tongue [Seeking Rewards]

In the training ground, Geng Shiro stood and gazed at the ever-increasing array of equipment that had appeared day after day. Rough! Crude! Unworthy! Yet these rough, crude, seemingly worthless contraptions struck him speechless with astonishment time and again.

He picked up the bamboo pole used for the Bell-Striking Technique; the tip, weighed down by an iron block, bent sharply, making it extremely difficult to wield. He felt a powerful force traveling along the pole, pressing into his wrist, a sensation of aching numbness and spasms. Even he instinctively squatted to stabilize the seemingly fragile, soft bamboo.

How could anyone have devised such targeted training? Moreover, every exercise was structured in a progressive sequence—stone locks, vessel-lifting, and now the bell-striking—each step increasing in difficulty, yet adapting at a remarkable pace. It was all meticulously planned, each foundation laid with care. Every stage had been conceived in Tang Shen’s mind, these practices were mature, not experimental.

If one were to start with the bell-striking alone, it would surely ruin their wrist, causing nothing but injury and offering no benefit. Even if he handed these tools to others, they would treat them as worthless junk, never considering them for training—unless they were mad. Had he not witnessed it all himself, observed every step, he would not believe it.

Sometimes, he felt a wild urge to drag Tang Shen over, draw his great blade, and pry open Tang Shen’s mind to see just what was hidden inside. To think wrist-strength training could be refined to this degree! There were so many subtleties he had never known; Tang Shen had opened a door to a whole new world for him.

So the foundations could be trained like this. Even for him, these methods had tangible effects. For novices, they were nothing short of priceless treasures!

Crude equipment, messy-looking drills—yet they concealed a gateway to swordsmanship that had never been unlocked in this world. Their bodies, wrist strength, arm strength, even eyesight—all these were typically honed only after relentless training, breakthrough upon breakthrough, reaching the rank of Sword Master or Grand Sword Master, growing stronger and stronger, striving to perfect every minor detail and overcome their shortcomings.

But now, Tang Shen was imparting all this to his daughter, perfecting the foundation of swordsmanship in an incredible way, before she could even sense sword energy. No, it was the foundation of greatness.

With such a foundation, as long as she did not fall along the way, Geng Shiro had no doubt she would become a true powerhouse. Amazement! Nothing but amazement! In the end, he could only marvel.

Every time he faced these crude tools, he could not help but be filled with awe. He had truly encountered an extraordinary figure—someone more impressive than any master he had ever known, someone he respected from the depths of his heart.

The longer their acquaintance, though they had barely exchanged more than a handful of words since that first conversation, Geng Shiro’s recognition of Tang Shen grew stronger each day. Every morning, he found himself anticipating what surprises Tang Shen might bring, or what new training methods would refresh his perspective.

Yet sometimes, a thread of sorrow would slip through his heart. His precious daughter, his only child, was drifting farther from him. His own accumulated wisdom was becoming obsolete, leaving him with the bitter feeling that his lifetime of experience had been wasted.

It was infuriating! How could a mere child possess so many training methods he had never even heard of—and not a single flaw could he find. He wasn’t even given the chance to criticize; instead, he felt admiration, which only made him feel more exasperated.

He set aside what he was holding and quietly slipped in the direction where Tang Shen and Kuina had gone, as if spying—no, observing had become a habit.

This section of the training grounds had long been restricted; Geng Shiro had ordered everyone else in the dojo to stay clear. In Isshin Dojo, his word was law—indeed, on this island as well.

Today was different from usual—Tang Shen had brought Kuina directly to the seashore.

Kuina’s eyes flickered, silently following; every time this happened, it meant a new training regimen awaited.

The tides rose and fell, waves ceaselessly crashing against the jagged rocks at the island’s edge, echoing loudly. The sea breeze blew in, bringing the ocean’s unique scent.

Tang Shen took a deep breath; the air was rich with oxygen, instantly invigorating him. The sky was brilliantly blue, the sea stretching endlessly—he hadn’t witnessed such a scene in ages.

Looking out over the ocean, it was as if his heart opened wide, filling him with comfort.

“The weather is wonderful today!” Tang Shen couldn’t help but sigh.

Just then—

Boom!

Despite the clear, boundless sky, out of nowhere, a thunderbolt split the heavens, a flash of lightning like a writhing serpent tearing through the firmament.

“What the—!”

Tang Shen was stunned. He had barely commented on the fine weather, and suddenly thunder struck as if mocking him.

What did I do to deserve this?

Kuina: “......”

She was equally bewildered; the timing of the thunderbolt was uncanny. She almost echoed Tang Shen’s remark, but the words stuck in her throat.

Tang Shen rolled his eyes in exasperation. If only he knew who was so disrespectful, he’d make them kneel and call him father.

“Though someone just let out a fart, it seems the weather is still perfect for training—just right,” Tang Shen intoned solemnly to Kuina.

Kuina: “????”

Who farted? It was just her and her master here!

But training was more important; she waited sternly for Tang Shen’s instructions.

Crash!

Before Tang Shen could announce the day’s regimen, a torrential downpour descended, sheets of rain pouring from the sky, drenching Tang Shen and Kuina in moments.

Tang Shen: “......”

He felt an overwhelming urge to curse aloud.

Kuina: “......”

How could they train in this weather? Why had it started raining?

Tang Shen thrust a middle finger skyward, muttered a curse, then declared, “Rain is perfect—ideal for training. We’ll practice swordsmanship in the sea; I’ve prepared a blade for you.”

“Let’s go! Into the water. Yesterday, I picked out two reefs—one tall, one short—just enough for us to keep our heads above the surface.”

As if in response to Tang Shen’s gesture, the rain grew heavier. The sky was clear, without a single cloud, yet the downpour was utterly unpredictable.

With the rain, the waves surged higher—some several meters, others tens of meters tall, crashing fiercely against the rocks on the shore, louder and more frequent than ever.