Chapter 183: He Has Spring Leaves, Summer Thunder, Autumn Wind, and Winter Snow
As the year drew to a close, the weather turned bitterly cold, and the narrow muddy path of Mud Vase Alley became extremely hard.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, gazing at the tall figure ahead, and called out softly, "Brother Li."
Li Xisheng did not turn around, but said with a faint smile, "Don't worry, I can handle it. Even if I'm no match for him, this town has its own rules—it won't let him run wild."
The young swordsman who called himself Cao Jun laughed heartily and said, "Are you talking about the Great Li court, or the military strategist Ruan Qiong? If it's the former, I'd advise you to give up that hope. If the Song Clan of Great Li had any backbone, they wouldn't be hiding like turtles. If it's Ruan Qiong—ha! Let me keep you in suspense for now. You can wait and see."
Cao Jun looked at the green-robed scholar with a face like jade—while he himself appeared young, the other was genuinely youthful, which irked Cao Jun somewhat. He pressed his thumb against the hilt of the short sword at his waist, saying, "You really want to fight? Some losses are better to accept; who knows, you might find that a misfortune turns into a blessing."
Li Xisheng smiled and replied, "Since you say your reasoning lies entirely in the sword sheath, then I might as well hear it out."
"I've heard that before the Lizhu Cave Heaven shattered, all techniques were forbidden. Now that the cave heaven has broken and fallen, in just a year's time, you've already reached the Middle Five Realms—not bad at all." Cao Jun's eyes showed a hint of approval, but then he quickly shook his head and clicked his tongue. "What a pity."
Li Xisheng extended one hand. "Please."
Cao Jun couldn't help but laugh. "A frog at the bottom of a well knows nothing of the sky's height. Since this isn't a life-or-death battle, I'll suppress my realm a bit so that your very first fight won't end in too much bitterness."
Li Xisheng smiled but said nothing.
"Once you crawl out of that well, you'll realize that characters like me deserve..." Cao Jun pushed off the ground with his toes, bent forward, and charged, laughing loudly. The moment he chose to strike, the young swordsman's demeanor shifted drastically—a dazzling white light exploded forth, wildly scattering sword energy that instantly filled the entire alley. Combined with Cao Jun's lightning-fast speed, his blurred figure merged into the radiance, making it seem like a mountain torrent after a storm, using the alley as its riverbed, surging madly toward Li Xisheng and his companions downstream.
Amid the blinding white torrent of sword energy, a more concentrated gleam of snowy light could be seen, like a white fish quietly swimming in a stream.
The torrent came to a halt.
Li Xisheng appeared unhurried, turning sideways, raising his hand and flicking his sleeve, reaching toward that bright short sword like a white fish.
Then he gently and precisely caught Cao Jun's sword-wielding wrist.
Cao Jun gave a faint smile, released his fingers, and the short sword, which was still two or three feet from Li Xisheng's chest, shot straight toward his heart with a whoosh.
Li Xisheng remained calm, bringing two fingers of his left hand together in front of his chest.
In that critical moment, he managed to pinch that white fish between his fingers.
The white fish flipped and rolled.
The blade twisted along with it.
Li Xisheng had to step back, while Cao Jun pressed forward, his sword-holding hand now forming a fist, striking straight at Li Xisheng's neck.
As Li Xisheng blocked Cao Jun's fist with his elbow, the white fish shot toward him again. Li Xisheng shook his other hand, his wide sleeve billowing.
The white fish walked right into the trap.
Cao Jun let out a derisive snort, then kicked Li Xisheng in the abdomen, sending the green-robed scholar stumbling back four or five steps.
He didn't press the advantage, standing openly in place, one hand behind his back, the other holding an absolutely dashing posture.
Li Xisheng halted his retreat, his face slightly pale. Though Cao Jun was a sword cultivator, that kick was heavy and powerful, no less than a peak Fifth Realm pure martial artist. This was precisely the terror of sword cultivators and military strategist practitioners—they cultivated both qi and body. So Li Xisheng didn't take that blow lightly; the flow of his vital energy was inevitably affected to some degree.
Inside the wide sleeve where Li Xisheng had trapped Cao Jun's flying sword, there was a series of bangs, continuous and unending, followed by the faint sound of silk tearing. Then strands of snowy sword light seeped through the gaps.
Li Xisheng's hand, which had a universe inside its sleeve, quickly formed a Daoist hand seal—fingers bent like bows or straight like swords and halberds—and he silently intoned: "Suppress!"
The sleeve, which had been bulging, taut, and wildly chaotic, instantly quieted down.
The sound of the flying sword slamming against the fabric turned into a trembling, humming buzz.
Cao Jun was not surprised at all, and laughed. "Seven."
Li Xisheng's entire sleeve, from the elbow down, shattered in an instant. Near his wrist, the sword light burst forth.
It was a beautiful scene, like moonlight filling his hand, yet it contained great danger and deadly intent.
The five fingers that had formed the hand seal shifted, becoming a true "grasping seal." In his palm, invisible to all, the lines rippled like flowing water, altering their course.
Li Xisheng's arm suddenly emitted a hazy, bluish-purple glow.
The flying sword, like a white fish, wildly coiled around Li Xisheng's arm, its sword energy clashing against the bluish-purple aura radiating from him, producing crisp sounds of metal striking stone, dense and jarring to the ears.
Dust and bits of mud and debris continuously fell from the high wall on one side of Mud Vase Alley and the low wall of the old residence's courtyard on the other.
Cao Jun's originally narrow phoenix eyes opened a bit wider, and he teased, "Interesting. Daoist hand seals are said to number in the thousands and tens of thousands—I've seen at least two hundred myself—but I've never come across one so simple yet effective. Li, your Sixth Realm cultivation is far too solid. Usually, it's Sixth Realm sword cultivators bullying Seventh Realm qi practitioners, never a Sixth Realm qi practitioner holding his own against a Seventh Realm sword cultivator. If word of this gets out, won't I, Cao Jun, become a laughingstock among all the sword cultivators in the world?"
After the initial awkwardness, Li Xisheng now seemed to have energy to spare, even able to speak with a smile, "Perhaps your reasoning isn't... high enough?"
Cao Jun nodded, deeply agreeing, so he said with a full smile, "Eight!"
The flying sword, which had been like an agile white fish, flew back toward its owner and hovered motionless. In an instant, it became dim and dull, just a short sword with no trace of sword energy flowing, stripped of its previous majestic aura.
The eerie, cold sword intent that had felt so sinister now transformed, becoming open and upright.
The flying sword vanished into thin air in an instant.
On one of the courtyard walls in the alley between them, an extremely fine trace appeared—just a tiny bit of powder and debris drifting down.
Li Xisheng extended two fingers of his right hand, trying to catch that short sword as it arced around.
Suddenly, Li Xisheng turned his head.
In the next moment, the flying sword drilled a hole in the high wall to Li Xisheng's left.
The sword vanished again.
But a bead of blood appeared on Li Xisheng's left cheek, then gradually grew into a bloodstain about an inch long.
So this was how it was—fighting a sword cultivator, life and death hung by a thread.
Li Xisheng silently thought, "So this is what 'Eight' means. Truly formidable."
The reason sword cultivator combat power was universally acknowledged as supreme among the hundreds of schools of qi practitioners was that a properly nurtured flying sword excelled at the "point" and at most a "line."
No matter how majestic and towering a mountain, driving a nail into its cliff face or chiseling a gully was actually not difficult.
Even among the anomalies of qi practitioners—such as the military strategist cultivators who cultivated both body and soul—none were as clean and decisive in battle as sword cultivators.
No matter how many magical treasures you have, no matter how great your divine abilities, the sword cultivator pursues a single strike to kill, one sword to break myriad techniques.
Cao Jun maintained his proud posture with one hand behind his back, the other lightly tapping the hilt of his longsword. "A cultivation genius like you must be the pride of your family—surely you have a few defensive treasures? I find that hard to believe. I'll warn you now: no matter what your intentions, if you continue to hide and hesitate, unwilling to reveal them, someone will really die. Because I'm afraid I might get too carried away and can't hold back. Then you'll die with regrets."
Faced with the enemy's sarcasm, Li Xisheng was not angered; his voice remained warm and gentle. "Chen Ping'an, I may need you to retreat further. If you could move back four or five zhang, that would be best."
Cao Jun slapped his forehead hard and said with a mock grievance, "A powerful enemy right in front of you, and you still have leisure to talk nonsense. I'm angry."
Beneath the young swordsman's banter lay hidden murderous intent.
At the same time as Cao Jun's hand slapped his forehead with a sound, the flying sword, hidden under that noise, truly moved without a sound, striking at Li Xisheng's back.
Ding!
A clear, melodious sound rang through Mud Vase Alley.
Cao Jun paused, then burst into laughter. "So that works? Then I really won't hold back."
Behind Li Xisheng, a verdant bamboo leaf appeared, blocking the flying sword's attack.
Ding, ding, ding, ding...
Within the alley, a series of similar sounds erupted around Li Xisheng.
Besides the bamboo leaves, there were peach leaves, willow leaves, locust leaves...
All kinds of leaves, all bright green.
Cao Jun squinted, staring at the battlefield.
Li Xisheng stood unmoving, surrounded by leaves floating and undulating at various heights. The short sword named White Fish darted among them, continuously trying to break through the formation but failing each time.
Though some green leaves fell to the ground, instantly turning yellow and withered, Cao Jun was indeed somewhat vexed. Roughly estimating, that scholar must have at least over a hundred leaves.
So Cao Jun was in a bad mood.
What is this guy's family, selling leaves? And even if they did, would anyone buy them?
Cao Jun didn't want to back down. He refused to believe that a mere Sixth Realm qi practitioner could last to the end. Controlling so many leaves at once was no simple task—it required an enormous expenditure of mental energy. So he told himself silently, though it might be a dishonorable victory, he could treat it as a stupid brute-force task to sharpen his sword edge. He wanted to see just how long that scholar could hold out.
The short, deadly flying sword began to charge recklessly and without restraint.
Inside the alley, leaves fell one after another, turning from green to yellow upon hitting the ground.
Li Xisheng suddenly spoke up to remind, "If we keep fighting like this, we'll go on until next year. How about you explain the reasoning of this sword, and then talk about the other one? If possible, go ahead and unleash your natal flying sword. Either way, let's at least decide a victor. Because my friend still has a journey ahead."
Cao Jun's eyes widened abruptly, and he finally dropped his smiling facade. "Can't you go one sentence without bragging?"
Li Xisheng sighed and said nothing more.
He just shook the remaining sleeve, and from it tumbled out a whole lot of unbelievable things.
There were a few remaining spring leaves, but besides those, there were also summer thunders the size of fingernails, autumn winds as long as a finger, and winter snowflakes the size of goose feathers.
The opponent had one sword that could break myriad techniques.
What to do?
Could I just accumulate ten thousand and one techniques?
And so this young scholar named Li Xisheng, though he had only just entered the Middle Five Realms, already possessed spring leaves, summer thunders, autumn winds, and winter snows. And he had more—lots more.
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