Legends of Runeterra

The way Master Dolan ran reminded Yi of the mud crabs fighting for their mates... This thought was of course a bit rude, but considering the master's age, it should be considered a compliment in a sense.

Yi coughed dryly and bowed slightly to the old blacksmith with the sword-holding ceremony. However, the old blacksmith ran and panted, and waved at him with a flushed face:

"Here I come! Sorry, I overslept and am a little late."

Yi glanced at the bright midday sun. Dolan was right. He was indeed a little late - just one morning.

"'The root of all things is time,'" Yi frowned slightly. "'Morning dew arrives in the morning, evening mist falls in the evening, only then will the sun, moon and stars appear.'"

"Hmm?" Dolan picked up the kettle, about to drink, then stopped. "What?"

"Haven't you heard the opening of the Dharma Collection?" Yi asked incredulously, "That's Bush's poem."

Fran rubbed his gray beard and was stunned for a moment: "Who?"

Master Bushi should be the greatest poet in the history of Ionia. Before Yi learned to recognize the generations of his relatives, Yinbei started teaching him the poem "Sunset in the Mountains"... Even if you haven't heard the famous quote that teaches others to be punctual, you should have heard of his name.

"...Don't worry about it." Yi moistened his throat and said, "Master said that today's practice is very important and told me to follow your arrangements."

"Practice?" Dolan said meaningfully, "Oh!" "He told you this was practice? No wonder you came so early."

Yi suddenly felt that Dolan was a little unreliable.

Yi had seen him several times before in his parents' workshop. Yinbei and Yimai had great respect for the master. Although he was a foreigner, unkempt, and carefree, the artisans of Wuji Village, including Yi's parents, were quickly impressed by his superb forging skills and allowed him to stay there permanently. But after all these years of being exposed to him, he still didn't even recognize Bushi... This made Yi increasingly doubt what Dolan could teach him about the profound meaning of the Wuji Dao.

Yi coughed dryly and gave a perfunctory smile: "So, when do we start, Master?"

"It's certainly enough time for me, as for you..." Dolan put away the kettle, turned around and looked at the way they came, a narrow path leading to Wuji Village - this action made Yi see what Dolan was carrying on his shoulders, it was a brand new bamboo basket covered with thick antelope skin. Judging from the size and style, it should be a bag for long journeys.

"You've only been practicing swordsmanship for two seasons and have only encountered a minor setback. Why are you so anxious?"

Yi couldn't help but be anxious—this wasn't just a minor setback; it was a major issue concerning his ability to continue practicing the Wuji Dao. To maintain his patience, he squeezed the scabbard firmly; the experience shared by his senior brothers didn't seem to be very effective at this moment.

"Master..." he corrected softly, "I've been practicing swordsmanship for four whole seasons."

"Oh, that's right. You're already fifteen..." Duolan pinched Yi's arm in mock surprise. "You've been practicing for four seasons. Hmm, no wonder you're so strong. You must be swinging the sword a lot, right?"

Whether wielding a sword, meditating, or reciting poetry, Yi never slacked off in any of the tasks his master had assigned him. He was not only more diligent than his fellow apprentices, but even more dedicated than most of his predecessors. Now, he could precisely execute every Wuji Sword Technique move, rapidly enter a meditative state with the most standard form, and memorize most of the poetry and songs in the Sutra Library... But even so, despite his efforts, he had reached a nearly hopeless bottleneck.

When he thought of this, Yi couldn't help but reveal a bitter smile:

"About four thousand times a day."

"Four thousand a day? You want to be a blacksmith?"

Although swinging the sword four thousand times a day is a bit too much, repeatedly practicing basic techniques is one of the teachings of Wuji Dao: "Without a solid foundation, there will be no branches"... It is impossible that Dolan doesn't even know this?

Yi was about to explain, but Duolan took off the bamboo basket covered with leather from his back and forced it on him: "That's perfect, you're strong, help me carry it for a while."

After saying that, Dolan rubbed his shoulders and walked forward on his own. Yi hesitated for a moment before quickly following him:

"Master? Where are you going? This is the road heading south."

"North and South, I can still tell the difference."

"Then...what about the practice that Master mentioned?"

"If you want to practice so badly," Dolan said, putting his hands behind his back and strolling leisurely, "let's start now."

Yi uttered a doubtful "hmm" and said no more. In his memory, heading south from Wuji Village, there were only vast, uninhabited forests. Unless Duolan wanted to go in and catch wild boars, there was really nothing to do that could be called "cultivation."

However, Yi had already promised his master that he would obey whatever Duolan asked him to do, so even if he really wanted to catch a wild boar, there was nothing he could do. He put the bamboo basket on his shoulder and followed Duolan.

Yi had never walked this path, or to be more precise, had never heard anyone mention it.

The stepping stones embedded in the ground were broken, and weeds grew from the gaps, some as tall as calves. Yi felt that this road must lead to an abandoned temple or settlement. The elders had told him that in the mountainous and rugged province of Barue, many ancient ruins lay hidden outside villages and towns, silent for ages... and untouched.

After walking south for a while, the training promised by the old blacksmith was completely gone. Yi finally couldn't contain his curiosity and lifted the bamboo basket covered with leather on his back:

"Master, what's in this? It's quite heavy."

"Swords," Doran replied without hesitation, "All swords."

If Yi remembered correctly, Dolan now only forged swords for the Wuju Swordsmen, and at most he would make one or two swords per season.

"Are they all your works, Master?"

"Three of them. The others..." Dolan paused, as if choosing his words, "were brought to me by fellow traders."

"A fellow forger? You mean another forger? Why would they give you the sword?"

As Yi spoke, he subconsciously turned his head to look at the bamboo basket. He was not paying attention and almost tripped over a strangely shaped stepping stone, stumbling.

"Hey! Watch out! There's a sword in there for you," Dolan quickly straightened the basket. "If it gets scratched, you'll have to blame me."

"Give...give me my sword?" Yi was a little bit unconvinced: "Is it a sharpened one?"

"Of course, my sword is always sharp."

As a testament to the Wuji swordsman's self-restraint, only practitioners who truly understand the Wuji Dao's philosophy of "not shedding blood" are qualified to wield a bladed sword.