The Reincarnated Villain Can Break the Fourth Wall!-Chapter 152: The Way of Sword!

"Wait—don’t open it right now…"

Bai Yujian’s voice was sharp, but toward the end, it softened into resignation.

Because Su Xiaobai had already unrolled the scroll, eyes scanning over the contents with casual curiosity.

Bai Yujian stood there like a celestial statue, unmoving as the cold wind swept past her stiff face.

This scroll… this entire scroll could take centuries to fully comprehend.

Did he seriously intend to stand here, right now, flipping through it like a street vendor’s menu, expecting her to wait until he was done before she continued speaking?

She needed help.

Serious help.

But she could not cry for help.

She was a senior, the Peak Lord of Sword Peak!

Meanwhile, Su Xiaobai—completely oblivious to Bai Yujian’s quiet existential crisis—was simply checking out what Sword Dao was all about.

His eyes skimmed over the words:

[Way of the Sword]

Sword Qi – The Foundation of the Path

Sword Aura – The Refinement of Presence

Sword Intent – The Manifestation of Will (1 to 9 levels)

Sword Spirit – The Birth of the Sword’s Soul

Sword Will – The Unshakable Edge

Sword Heart – Becoming One With the Sword

Su Xiaobai squinted.

"…Seems simple enough."

Bai Yujian’s fingers twitched.

Simple? SIMPLE?!

Sword cultivation was the sacred, arduous path walked by countless generations of righteous cultivators! The foundation of all swordsmanship, the bridge between mortals and the true way of the sword, the manifestation of one’s Dao!

And this man—

This absolute demon—

Was acting like he had just read the instruction manual for a kitchen knife.

She inhaled deeply, suppressing the urge to stab him.

"…You fool. Do you even understand what you just read?"

Su Xiaobai looked up. "Yeah, I got it. You start with Sword Qi, level up to Sword Aura, then grind your Sword Intent up to level 9 before unlocking Sword Spirit, which lets you form Sword Will, and then finally—if you don’t get murdered along the way—you achieve Sword Heart and become a sword god. Right?"

Bai Yujian closed her eyes.

"…I am going to pretend you didn’t just phrase it like that."

She took a step forward, her presence subtly shifting.

"Listen carefully, Su Xiaobai. The sword is not just a path of strength—it is a path of righteousness, a reflection of the heart. Without discipline, without clarity, a sword is nothing more than a weapon of destruction."

She extended a single finger.

A sharp pulse of energy flickered into existence.

"This is Sword Qi—the most basic form of sword energy. It is the first step, channeling one’s cultivation through the sword."

With a small movement, she flicked her finger outward—

A distant rock exploded into dust.

Su Xiaobai raised a brow. "Pretty cool."

Bai Yujian ignored him and continued.

"When Sword Qi is refined and solidified, it becomes Sword Aura—the presence of the sword. It is what allows a swordsman to exert pressure without lifting their blade."

She took another step forward.

Instantly, Su Xiaobai felt it.

The air turned razor-sharp. He instinctively tensed, feeling as though countless invisible blades were hovering at his throat.

"Damn… so it’s like a passive intimidation buff," he muttered.

Bai Yujian exhaled through her nose.

"…Moving on."

Her gaze grew sharper.

"The true essence of swordsmanship begins with Sword Intent."

She gestured toward another rock.

A single line of formless energy sliced through it—without her even touching a blade.

"Sword Intent is the manifestation of one’s will. It can cut without a sword. It is not just power—it is conviction. Without a firm heart, your intent will never grow."

Su Xiaobai stroked his chin. "So you’re saying… I need to believe in the cut?"

"…You are making this extremely difficult for me."

Bai Yujian moved forward again.

"When one has fully comprehended their Sword Intent, they may give birth to a Sword Spirit—a living embodiment of their sword’s soul."

A faint shimmer of ethereal light flickered around her, as if an unseen entity coiled within her presence.

"With a Sword Spirit, one can begin forging their Sword Will—a will so unbreakable that not even death can sever their blade."

She looked directly into Su Xiaobai’s eyes.

"Only those who have reached this step can truly be called swordsmen."

Su Xiaobai was silent for a moment.

Then he pointed at her. "So what level are you at?"

Bai Yujian didn’t answer.

Instead, she let everything fall silent.

No Sword Qi.

No Sword Aura.

No Sword Intent.

Nothing.

Yet—Su Xiaobai felt a terrifying truth settle in his bones.

She no longer needed to show it.

Because she was the sword.

Bai Yujian’s voice was quiet, but absolute.

"The final step—Sword Heart—is when one becomes the sword. There is no longer separation between blade and self."

She let her words sink in before she continued.

"And Su Xiaobai…"

Her cold gaze locked onto him.

"If you truly wish to step onto this path, then you must learn one thing—"

"The righteous sword does not waver. It does not doubt. It does not fear."

For once, Su Xiaobai actually understood.

This wasn’t just about sword techniques.

It was about the heart.

Seeing him nod like a well-behaved disciple, standing there as if he had already comprehended the Dao, Bai Yujian suddenly doubted everything.

Did this fool really get it?

Her cold eyes narrowed.

"Sword Qi. Show me."

It was the simplest of basics, something any sword cultivator should have mastered in their first year.

Su Xiaobai blinked.

"…Oh? Just that?"

Wasn’t this too elementary? Shouldn’t they already be testing his Sword Intent?

Still, he humored her. With a casual flick, he summoned his crimson sword, its red blade glowing faintly with Qi.

Bai Yujian’s expression instantly darkened.

"Useless."

Her voice carried undisguised contempt.

Not for him—

But for the sheer audacity of what he had just done.

Her disgust ran so deep that she felt physically ill.

Su Xiaobai froze.

"Huh?"

Before he could even process her reaction, she moved.

With an elegant flick, she lifted the top of her parasol—a shield she had wielded for centuries.

Then, with her other hand, she snatched his sword from him.

Clang!

The next moment—

She struck.

CRACK!

In one clean, decisive movement, the crimson sword snapped in two.

Su Xiaobai’s soul nearly left his body.

His soul weapon—was shattered like a brittle twig.

"…"

His brain went blank.

Then—

A barrage of rage-filled corrections rained down on him.

"Is that how you plan to fight?! By relying on a weapon’s sharpness like some common mortal?!"

Bai Yujian’s eyes blazed with fury.

"You think a sword exists to do the work for you?! That you can just infuse a blade with Qi and suddenly it’s a divine weapon?! Where is your control?! Where is your precision?! Do you even understand the difference between externalized Sword Qi and condensed internal refinement?!"

She took a step forward, her presence pressing down on him.

"What happens when your blade dulls? Will you drop it and grab another mid-battle?! Is that your grand strategy?!"

Her voice grew sharper, faster, as her frustration spilled over.

"Sword Qi is not Sword Aura! Sword Aura is not Sword Intent! Sword Intent is not Sword Will! And none of them—NONE of them—rely on the weapon in your hand! They come from you!"

She lifted the two broken halves of his sword, her delicate fingers brushing against them.

Then, with Sword Intent alone, she fused them back together.

A blade reborn.

Then—she swung.

This time, she didn’t even touch her parasol-shield.

Yet—

Crack!

Her centuries-old shield split in half.

Su Xiaobai barely had time to swallow his shock before she continued.

As if to further drive the lesson into his thick skull, she grabbed the broken halves again and slammed them against each other—

Clang!

Then, with an almost casual gesture, she discarded the sword entirely.

Instead, she bent down, picked up a small, brittle branch from the ground.

A dying twig, barely worth notice.

She infused it with Sword Qi.

Clang!

And with that twig—she shattered the remains of her own shield.

It was gone.

Completely and utterly reduced to dust.

She turned to him, her breath steady, but her eyes filled with seething disappointment.

"Sword Qi. Is. Not. The. Sword."

Her voice was slow, deliberate, as if she were explaining something to a particularly slow-witted child.

"It is a technique. It is a force. A sword is only a vessel. A swordsman who needs a blade to cut is a — disgrace."

She inhaled sharply.

"Su Xiaobai, do you even know why your Sword Qi is weak?!"

She didn’t wait for an answer.

"You use it like a mere extension of your strength—like some cheap martial technique! That is why your edge is dull, why your pressure is nonexistent! You pour Qi into the blade without tempering, without refinement, without will! That is why it breaks!"

A cold sneer tugged at her lips.

Su Xiaobai flinched violently. Stay updated through novelbuddy

That was unnecessary.

But Bai Yujian wasn’t finished.

"And here I thought you might actually be ready for Sword Intent. I almost—almost—believed you had real talent."

She turned with a flick of her sleeve.

"Forget Sword Intent. Forget everything beyond the basics. Fix your foundation first."

And with that—

She left.

Su Xiaobai stood there, silent, watching her figure disappear into the night.

His entire soul ached.

Not just from the loss of his sword.

Not just from being insulted into oblivion.

But because—

For the first time—

He realized he had completely misunderstood the Way of the Sword.

His mind was chaos.

’Fucking bitch…’

His expression darkened.

Never—never in his life—had he been insulted this thoroughly.

And the worst part?

She was right.

His entire cultivation had been half-assed, relying on external power rather than internal refinement.

With a deep breath, he crouched down to pick up his sword.

Then—

Ssss—!!

The moment his fingers brushed against the blade, a searing burn spread through his skin.

His own sword—his own damn sword—was rejecting him.

Because of her Sword Intent.

Because of what she had done.

It was as if her will had left a scar upon it.

A wound that would not heal until he truly understood.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

"Tch."

Expectations.

That was the problem.

They both had too many expectations of each other.

He had thought she would be kind, would treat him gently.

She had thought he was a genius, someone who could understand everything at a glance.

And now—

Now, they were both thoroughly disappointed.

A/N: You know who else were more disappointed? Readers. :)