Chapter 79: From the Wilderness to the Hallowed Halls
People finally confirmed that he was praising Gou Hanshi, not Chen Changsheng.
The first move Chen Changsheng had Luoluo use seemed mediocre, but it was actually the best choice for the opening stance. The one who strikes first waits, the one who strikes later breaks. So the first to strike should prioritize defense, leaving the opponent with no opening to exploit.
In Mao Qiuyu’s view, this was a fine choice, but anyone could have thought of it, so it couldn’t be called brilliant.
Gou Hanshi’s response to this move—anyone could see it wasn’t particularly exquisite. An obscure little sect from East Forest Commandery—what exquisite sword techniques could it have developed?—but at this moment, it was extremely brilliant, because Chen Changsheng, like everyone present, had never seen this sword technique before.
To put it elegantly, Gou Hanshi’s countermeasure was like an antelope hanging its horns—no trace to be found. To put it crudely, he had simply scattered a handful of rice seeds in the field and paid no further heed. As for what that field would look like next year, or even if it would be overrun with weeds, he himself had no idea.
So how could Chen Changsheng know?
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Gathering rain into one’s embrace—that was Chen Changsheng’s response.
Even though it was only a demonstration of moves, Luoluo’s expression remained focused, her mind entirely on the whip. This move was executed with complete concentration and satisfaction, nearly approaching perfection.
Gou Hanshi called out another move.
Again, no one present knew the origin of this sword technique. It wasn’t until a rural student who had enrolled in the preparatory course for the Grand Examination shouted in shock that people learned this sword technique had been created by an old Daoist in a dilapidated temple among the mountains around Wenshui. It had some renown in that rustic area.
Tang Thirty-Six’s expression turned somewhat ugly. He thought to himself that he had grown up in Wenshui and had never even heard of this sword technique. Where had Gou Hanshi, who had lived on Mount Li for years, learned about it?
“Brilliant,” praised the white-veiled master from Holy Maiden Peak.
Chen Changsheng had Luoluo respond with the seventh form of the Bell Mountain Wind and Rain Sword.
Gou Hanshi then called out another move, again a sword technique from some obscure, unknown minor sect.
Chen Changsheng responded again.
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In the blink of an eye, Luoluo and Guan Feibai had exchanged over ten moves from a distance of more than thirty yards. The crowd on the stone steps before the hall did not grow quieter; instead, their discussions grew louder.
People looked at Gou Hanshi with eyes full of admiration. To know so many obscure sword techniques was truly remarkable.
Xu Shiji nodded slightly, and the master of the Qiu family’s mountain estate regained his composure, both satisfied with the current situation.
Some looked at Chen Changsheng and felt this youth was also quite impressive. Under his guidance, Luoluo had used only the Bell Mountain Wind and Rain Sword to counter Gou Hanshi’s extremely obscure techniques. On two occasions, she had even used the exact same sword move, yet it produced completely different effects.
But in the eyes of some, there was another remarkable person—Guan Feibai of the Divine Kingdom’s Four Laws.
That Gou Hanshi knew so many obscure sword techniques could be attributed to his vast knowledge. Everyone knew he had thoroughly studied the Daoist canon, read extensively, and that the Mount Li Sword Sect housed countless secret sword manuals. While admirable, it wasn’t surprising. But that every time he called out a sword move, Guan Feibai could execute it without hesitation—what did that mean?
It meant that Guan Feibai also knew these obscure sword techniques and had mastered them completely!
There were countless Daoist methods and innumerable sword techniques in the world. Some obscure techniques people had never even heard of, yet he knew them all!
How much time would that take to practice? What kind of perseverance and patience would that require?
“The Mount Li Sword Sect truly lives up to its reputation. No wonder so many remarkable young people have emerged from it in recent years…”
Mao Qiuyu looked at Guan Feibai, his emotions complex as he sighed.
Hearing this, the crowd watching from the stone steps snapped back to reality. The students of the Green Ivy Academies, especially those from the Heavenly Dao Academy, felt deeply ashamed.
Just then, the battle situation suddenly changed.
At Gou Hanshi’s command, Guan Feibai’s sword technique abruptly shifted from those extremely obscure techniques to the most common Mountain Gate Sword Technique.
This technique was the foundational sword art of the Southern Sect, dignified, upright, and utterly radiant.
It was also the technique Guan Feibai excelled at most. Among the younger generation of cultivators on the continent today, in terms of mastery of this technique alone, Autumn Mountain Lord undoubtedly ranked first, with Guan Feibai in second place.
Watching the suddenly majestic sword moves on the square before the hall, watching the long sword advancing straight and true through the night, the crowd finally fell silent.
Many people knew this sword technique, and many had practiced it. But few could cultivate it to such a realm—without mobilizing true essence, yet still perfectly revealing the sword’s intent.
Tonight, Guan Feibai had achieved this, and at the same time, he had given the young students on the stone steps a valuable lesson.
As Gou Hanshi’s voice rang out, Guan Feibai advanced with the Mountain Gate Sword, and Luoluo’s pressure immediately increased greatly. For the first time, a hint of gravity appeared on her still-childish face. The sword technique her opponent was using wasn’t rare, but coming after those obscure techniques, it created a very peculiar rhythm.
Earlier, she had been using the Bell Mountain Wind and Rain Sword, rising with the yellow clouds and settling on the eastern mountains, maintaining her own rhythm. But as her opponent changed, this rhythm was disrupted, and she was subtly being drawn into his rhythm.
She had to make a corresponding change to break free from his rhythm.
How should she change?
Guan Feibai’s long sword questioned the night with a sweeping momentum, his expression blank as he looked at her.
It was her turn to make a move.
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Luoluo felt the pressure, but Chen Changsheng felt it even more. He hadn’t expected Gou Hanshi to suddenly shift from the wilds of remote commanderies and mountain forests straight back to the orthodox sect techniques at a moment no one anticipated, leaving him momentarily unprepared.
Looking at Gou Hanshi’s calm expression across the square, he had to admit that this man was truly remarkable.
In battles between cultivators, substance and momentum were crucial. Substance referred to true essence, while momentum was a more complex concept. It could be sword moves, techniques, magical artifacts, or even psychological states. Like a game of Go, the thickness of one’s skill ultimately depended on the changing situation on the board.
To shift directly from the Seven Stars Sword of the remote commanderies and mountain forests to the Mountain Gate Sword, from the narrow and obscure to the hallowed halls—this change in rhythm was extremely forceful and sudden. Even more terrifying was that this sudden change amplified the sword intent of the Mountain Gate Sword countless times, until it seemed to condense into tangible momentum. How could one break it with a sword?
A simple change, yet it concealed Gou Hanshi’s unfathomable wisdom and experience.
Chen Changsheng knew he was about to lose. He had also studied the Daoist canon from a young age and had read tirelessly in the National Academy’s library, but he had only formally begun cultivation a few months ago. In terms of knowledge of various methods and combat experience, he was still far behind Gou Hanshi.
He didn’t want to lose, and he didn’t want Luoluo to be defeated because of him.
Perhaps it would be difficult to defeat a genius like Gou Hanshi, who seemed to grasp all methods, tonight. But he wanted at least to avoid defeat.
That he could still maintain such confidence at this moment had little to do with the Dao he had cultivated since childhood—following one’s heart. It was because he believed Luoluo was stronger than Guan Feibai.
So first, in terms of moves, he couldn’t lose to Gou Hanshi.
Countless Daoist texts surfaced in his mind. The cultivation books and sword technique records from the National Academy’s library kept appearing before his eyes, stirred by the night wind and the increasingly fierce sword wind on the field. The moves and experiences once used by former sages and strong men flashed past like images.
Which move should he use?
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(I’m really a bit tired today, but I’ll keep writing. The next chapter might be a bit late, so everyone doesn’t need to wait.)