It was only after a quiet and long thought that Ye Chen had made up his mind. With his extraordinary comprehension, there was no point in wasting time to learn common sword arts. For Ye Chen to choose, only the best would suffice.
As for the fist palm, and finger arts, Ye Chen had already made up his mind.
Ye Chen chose the King Kong Fist for the time being he could not use a sword. However, finger art were very complicated and difficult to practice, and he was afraid that it would slow his way of the sword so he decided to give it up for now.
Holding the two scripts in his hand, Ye Chen walked up to the old man sitting lazily in a chair by the entrance, the pavilion master, to register the books.
“What? The Lone Peak of Thirteen Swords?” The pavilion master started to frown and tried to persuade Ye Chen, “Young one, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Never aim too high or too far. Put your feet on the ground and take it step by step. The Lone Peak of Thirteen Swords is a Middle-Ranked Mortal manual but the difficulty of mastering it is almost as hard as elder-ranked manuals. Many junior apprentice chose not to listen to me and ended up with nothing. Listen to this man’s old words and work steadily, one step at a time, in order to make solid progress.”