The day's training unfolded against the backdrop of the Mountain Heart Pavilion's grounds, the rhythmic clash of steel against steel echoing through the air like a metallic symphony. Xiang Yu and Li Yao moved across the training area with increasing fluidity, their forms casting long shadows that stretched and contracted with the arc of the sun. The afternoon breeze carried the sounds of their exchange—blade meeting blade, footsteps shifting against packed earth, and the occasional grunt of exertion when a particularly powerful strike connected.
Hours melted away as they continued their relentless practice. Sweat glistened on their brows, dampened their robes, yet neither suggested a break beyond what was absolutely necessary. They persisted until the western sky blazed with amber and crimson hues, signaling the dinner hour's approach.
