Many thoughts converged, and Li Hao's mind conjured the image of Lin Qingyue practicing her swordsmanship during these past days.
The graceful figure danced and turned in his mind.
Li Hao's thoughts had completely calmed down, and his gaze became focused and solemn.
The small imperfections he had witnessed during her sword practice now melded into his heart, guiding the movements of his brush.
He ground the ink, lifted the brush, and laid ink onto paper, where the figure of a stunningly beautiful woman appeared, dancing gracefully.
Her pose was divine, her eyes like a clear lake, her whole being embodying the utmost softness of Sword Dao.
Under Li Hao's brushwork, her Sword Intent became even purer and more exquisite, like a clear stream, or like swaying rain threads.
The Sword Intent was as soft as cotton, the sword's edge like thread; her figure rippled like waves, her attack shifting formlessly, elusive and indecipherable!
