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The cold winter seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Whether in the Desert North or the Central Plains, it was evident that this year's winter was much longer than usual.

Over a month had passed since the New Year festivities, yet snow still fluttered from the sky, and the fire basin within the house burned ever more fiercely.@@novelbin@@

The only piece of good news was that after nearly four months of recuperation, Little Red Riding Hood's injuries had finally healed substantially. Although not fully recovered, he could at least wield a sword and practice a few moves.

Thus, in the inner courtyard, a figure in white robes danced with his sword, his righteous aura sweeping through his moves, each one embodying the grand principles of the Confucian School.

From the front of the room, Li Youwei watched Little Red Riding Hood practicing with his sword in the courtyard. Even without understanding martial arts, she could feel the righteousness within his swordplay.

"The sword reflects the man, and the man reflects the sword. His swordsmanship is too rigidly upright," remarked Slovenly Zhang from the opposite corridor, his gaze fixed on Bai Wangyu in the courtyard.

"That might well be the main reason for his impending calamity," Qin E'nuo said with a serious tone. "But what I don't understand is, where does his calamity come from?"

Disciples of the Confucian School usually live in harmony with the world, and Bai Wangyu was no exception. Without contention or strife, where could his calamity stem from?

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