What is a strand of Graywhite Aura? In the past, I did not know.
Now, however, I can sense it—and I have gained it.
Andrew Han's expression did not change; he calmly saw high-tier Martial Artist Zane Zhou off, then leisurely returned home, ate a few bites of dinner, and finally sat at the edge of his bedroom bed.
Tick, tick.
The clock turned gently, making a faint sound.
Inside the bedroom, a scene of unusual warmth and tranquility filled the air. Lucy sprawled on the sky-blue bed, stretching out her fair, delicate little legs without a care for her image.
Andrew Han sat on the other side of the bed, quietly lost in thought.
"Ancient throwing knives?"
I've handled some longswords and polearms before, but they rarely contained Graywhite Aura. Even if they did, it was only a trace.
A trace and a strand are worlds apart.
The three throwing knives in the cloth bag were mottled with rust; their sharp edges had long since disappeared with the passage of time, and even the handles were damaged, bearing the marks of years gone by.
Whoosh.
Andrew Han exhaled lightly.
His right palm touched the ancient throwing knife; his expression seemed nostalgic, his eyes wistful, but inside, waves of emotion surged.
His joy and anger did not show on his face, but his heart was far from calm.
At this moment.
Under the bedroom light, in the tranquil atmosphere, Andrew Han clearly sensed the Graywhite Aura contained within the ancient throwing knives. It was like a blend of countless fibers, as if cotton and silk were intertwined—a strand of Graywhite Aura unlike any he had encountered before.
This strand of Graywhite Aura seemed to be a massive collection of traces.
Within the illusory space inside the throwing knives, the Graywhite Aura swirled and surged, carrying a weighty sense of history. Its structure was no longer simple, but instead resembled a complex chain.
A trace? A strand?
Why have I never encountered this before?
Andrew Han's face remained unchanged, but his thoughts spun as he made up his mind.
Absorb!
First, I’ll try merging a strand of Graywhite Aura to test its effect.
Crash!
The three strands of Graywhite Aura inside the throwing knives changed unpredictably, flashing and vanishing as they instantly merged into his body.
When faced with the unknown, people always feel awe.
Confronting the mysterious, curiosity often arises.
From the moment I first encountered Graywhite Aura, it became my hope and reliance—so my anticipation and longing far outweighed any worry or doubt.
But now, something has changed.
"I am already at the Peerless Martial General Realm. If I activate Berserker State, I can even fight an ordinary Martial Lord." Andrew Han closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. "I just hope there won’t be any harmful side effects."
His concern was not unfounded.
The three strands of Graywhite Aura resembled intricately woven gray-white cotton, utterly different from the simple clarity of a mere trace.
Having grown used to a single trace of Graywhite Aura, the sudden emergence of another form left Andrew Han unsettled, his mind racing with countless speculations.
Hmm.
I can feel it... My physical constitution has improved. My bones, meridians, blood, and muscles—all are stronger!
With that, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Three strands of Graywhite Aura are roughly equivalent to the effect of a thousand traces. Though their form is more mysterious, their function remains the same—only the results are far more pronounced.
Let’s put the bag away for now.
Andrew Han opened his clear, black-and-white eyes, placed the cloth bag in his desk drawer, and locked it—just in case Lucy tried to take out the throwing knives and hurt herself.
In fact.
No matter how precious the throwing knives are, he does not care much for them.
What truly matters are the three strands of Graywhite Aura. Since last March, he had been searching for Graywhite Aura for nearly a year, but this is the first time he has sensed a strand.
Obviously.
The essence of Graywhite Aura remains the same; there is no difference. The huge difference in quality probably leads to the difference in form.
A strand of Graywhite Aura has much stronger effects!
Andrew Han also noticed that his eyesight and hearing seemed to be slightly stronger than before. But he did not mind; the improvement in physical fitness would naturally bring sensory enhancement.
However.
Throwing knives used in fierce battles against Demons and Specters contain Graywhite Aura? And they differ greatly from those antique relics.
Andrew Han pondered for a moment, gaining some insight.
If the conditions for Graywhite Aura to form are hardship and twists of fate—then the Martial Arts World, with its extraordinary powers and upheavals, must have far more than the ordinary world.
Then.
A strand of Graywhite Aura is an item that carries the twists and fate of the Martial Arts World?
Sigh.
After sorting out his thoughts, Andrew Han pulled back the curtains and looked at the dark building opposite, his emotions suddenly complicated.
He was thinking.
His master, Miles Ning, should have noticed his secret.
He tempered Andrew in countless ways, provided abundant martial resources, created an excellent training environment, and used his reputation to deter hidden threats.
Sigh.
Andrew Han sighed and turned off the bedroom light.
Having such a master—who knows if it’s a blessing or a curse. But there’s no denying that without Miles Ning, he would not be who he is today.
......
Time flowed by, like water through the years.
Winter’s cold wind swept across the land.
For students across Sinovera and a handful of teachers, it was a long yet fleeting winter break. Some traveled; others enjoyed their time off, doing as they pleased.
Ding-dong.
Two new QQ messages appeared on the screen.
Monica Zhang sent a picture of a shivering kitten: "The temperature’s dropped, it’s so cold {(>_<)}"
"Make sure to wear more layers," Andrew Han picked up his phone and reminded her. "No heating at home? That’s a shame."
Monica sounded utterly dejected: "I’ve asked so many times, you’re just rubbing it in, boo-hoo."
Summer was fine, but the freezing winter really highlighted the huge difference between northern and southern Sinovera. Linhaven lay on the southern side of the border, with no heating—even at home, thick coats were a must.
After a while.
Click.
Monica snapped a photo of her lower body, draped in a blanket, feet in fluffy white slippers, dark winter pants outlining her shapely legs, and pale ankles visible.
"See?"
She grumbled, "You’re basking in spring warmth in Riverford, while I’m shivering under my blanket in Linhaven."
"Huh?" Andrew Han exclaimed in surprise. "I bought you two space heaters for winter—haven’t you received them yet?"
"When?"
Monica lifted her blanket, struck by surprise and delight.
Her bright eyes fixed on the QQ screen, lips pressed in shy happiness, her heart filled with both anticipation and reserved joy.
Four or five seconds later.
Andrew Han sent a voice message, puzzled: "I bought them last week. The express delivery already shows as signed for—I thought you’d been using them all along."
"Huh?"
Monica Zhang looked a little lost.
In a flash, she suddenly understood, hurried out the door, hesitated for a moment, then looked at her father, Roy Zhang, sitting on the sofa, and shyly asked, "Dad, where’s the package he sent me?"
"No idea," Roy Zhang grunted.
"Dear Dad, where’s your precious daughter’s package?" Monica Zhang acted cute.
Sigh.
Roy Zhang put down his book and pointed to the terrace outside the living room window.
......
Meanwhile.
Andrew Han also stepped outside, standing in front of his building’s entrance.
Vroom vroom.
A car stopped in front of him.
The window rolled down, revealing Miles Ning’s wrinkled, expressionless face. He lifted his drooping eyelids, radiating a beast-like intensity.
"Get in."
"We’re... going back to Qingshan Sect."