Chapter 1102: The Place Where the Battle Begins, a Sudden Turn!
(I really don’t know how to write the chapter title anymore, and since it’s a big climax, let’s go with the exclamation mark style! I was in meetings a few days ago and won an award. Thank you, Yuewen. Thank you, everyone. I’ll write seriously. The quantity might be a bit lacking, but the quality is good, just like this chapter and the next few. I’ve been preparing for two years, and it feels great. ???)
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Looking at the black stone in his hand, Wang Zhice felt a surge of emotion.
This black stone had originally been his.
Chen Changsheng had taken it from the stone wall of Lingyan Pavilion after the Grand Examination.
Back then, Wang Zhice had set this trap in Lingyan Pavilion on a whim, more out of a mischievous streak, a silent mockery of the Taizong Emperor.
He never imagined that, years later, someone would still know this secret and retrieve the black stone.
Then came the night when starlight enveloped the capital, and Chen Changsheng’s fame soared.
Many said Chen Changsheng was very much like him, whether in talent, temperament, or fortune.
Chen Changsheng had taken what he had hidden in Lingyan Pavilion, and in a sense, became his successor.
Perhaps for these reasons, Wang Zhice had always admired Chen Changsheng.
That was why he had appeared at Hanshan back then, protecting Chen Changsheng’s life from the Demon Lord.
Today, he came to the capital to persuade Xu Yourong, also out of goodwill toward Chen Changsheng.
When he caught the black stone Chen Changsheng threw to him, he realized that all his efforts had been unnecessary.
Chen Changsheng had long been prepared, prepared to fight his teacher.
He had chosen the most suitable battlefield.
That place to which the black stone led.
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As Wang Zhice gazed at the black stone, the Little Black Dragon stared at him, her eyes filled with hatred.
Hundreds of years of imprisonment—one could imagine how deep that hatred ran.
Seeing Chen Changsheng toss the black stone to Wang Zhice only angered her further, and she let out a reluctant snort.
Wang Zhice paid her no heed, addressing Shang Xingzhou and Chen Changsheng instead: “Take care of yourselves.”
Shang Xingzhou’s expression was cold, and he did not reply.
Chen Changsheng returned the greeting calmly and nodded to the Little Black Dragon.
A cold wind suddenly rose, snowflakes danced, and the Little Black Dragon left the National Academy.
Shang Xingzhou turned to look at Chen Changsheng.
Without wind, waves rose, and the thin ice on the lake shattered into pieces, turning into a cold mist.
The lake water surged endlessly, starting gentle like a murmur, then raging like fury, crashing against the shore, churning up crushed snow.
Spray burst into the air, giving birth to countless droplets, like a rainstorm.
Chen Changsheng looked at Shang Xingzhou.
The gazes of master and disciple met.
With a muffled boom.
Whether it was the dancing snowflakes, the cold mist from the shattered ice, or the rainstorm from the splashing lake water, all turned into green smoke.
Countless wisps of green smoke drifted across the lake’s surface, refracting the sky’s light, conjuring countless magnificent scenes, with a rainbow faintly visible among them.
The mist and smoke gradually dissipated, and the figures of Chen Changsheng and Shang Xingzhou were gone.
Wang Zhice walked to the great banyan tree, looked toward the distant end of the rainbow, and remained silent.
The National Academy was indeed the most suitable battlefield for this master and disciple.
But the place where the battle began was the Zhou Garden.
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The Zhou Garden was a small world with very special rules.
The upper limit of cultivation it could accommodate depended on the cultivation of its master.
Back when Zhou Dufu was alive, his cultivation and strength were unmatched, so the Zhou Garden could naturally accommodate an unlimited level.
Whether it was the former Demon Lord, the great Frost Dragon, the young and arrogant Chen Xuanba, or the peerless experts who followed, all could enter the Zhou Garden and unleash their peak strength. In a sense, this indirectly or prematurely proved that these experts’ cultivation could not surpass Zhou Dufu’s, at most matching it.
After Zhou Dufu’s death, the Zhou Garden lost its master, and its rules changed on their own, only allowing cultivators at the Penetrating Obscurity realm to enter; otherwise, they would trigger prohibitions, leading to annihilation by the rules, or conversely, causing the Zhou Garden to collapse.
Now that the Zhou Garden was in Chen Changsheng’s hands, the upper limit of cultivation it could accommodate had recovered somewhat, reaching the peak of the Gathering Stars realm.
In recent years, whether facing the Demon Lord at Hanshan and Xueling, or other Divine Domain experts, Chen Changsheng had never tried to trap them with the Zhou Garden. Besides worrying about these Divine Domain experts’ mastery of spatial rules, the main reason was his fear that the Zhou Garden would collapse.
Just like when the Golden-Winged Great Peng appeared and ten thousand swords turned into dragons.
Today’s situation was completely different.
This was a challenge.
By agreeing to enter the Zhou Garden, Shang Xingzhou accepted this condition.
He would suppress his cultivation to below the Divine Domain.
Thus, he would not be attacked by the Zhou Garden’s rules, nor would the Zhou Garden be in danger of collapsing.
More importantly, the cultivation levels of master and disciple would be pulled to the same degree.
The contest would be in Dao techniques, combat power, and wisdom.
This would be a fair battle.
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The first to sense the spatial distortion at the National Academy were Wang Po and Prince Xiang.
Then came the three elders of the Lishan Sword Hall, who had once guarded that rainbow.
Soon, more and more people learned what had happened at the National Academy.
The silence brought on by shock and surprise did not last long, and the stillness of Baihua Lane was finally broken.
Prince Zhongshan let out a cold laugh, and several divine generals showed mocking expressions on their faces.
From a tea house came the sound of a cup shattering, tinged with frustration.
That Chen Changsheng was the master of the Zhou Garden was no longer a secret.
In theory, he could use the Zhou Garden’s rules to fight, giving him a great advantage.
But still, no one believed he could defeat Shang Xingzhou.
There was a whole realm of difference between them.
Even if Shang Xingzhou suppressed his cultivation below the Divine Domain.
The gap still existed.
Existence was existence, and it wouldn’t disappear because of reasons.
In every field—experience, wisdom, insight—Shang Xingzhou far surpassed Chen Changsheng.
How could someone who had once crossed the vast ocean fail to step over a small stream?
If someone had climbed the highest peak, would they not know how to walk when back on the ground?
Like the Little Black Dragon, though not yet mature and formally entering the Divine Domain, some of her attributes were inherently at the Divine level, making her practically invincible below the Divine Domain.
Shang Xingzhou, who had voluntarily suppressed his cultivation below the Divine Domain, was a similar existence, and even more terrifying.
How could Chen Changsheng defeat him? More importantly, even if Chen Changsheng had some miraculous tricks hidden in the Zhou Garden, at the most critical moment, Shang Xingzhou could simply force his way out of the Zhou Garden. What could Chen Changsheng do then?
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The questions these people pondered were naturally understood even more thoroughly by Chen Changsheng and Shang Xingzhou themselves.
At this moment, they stood at the forefront of Muyu.
In the distance, the red sun slowly circled the grassland, painting the cliffs red.
Many remarkable people had been here before.
Zhou Dufu, Chen Xuanba, the master of the Shanhai Sword, and many others.
Many miracles had occurred here.
For instance, when Xu Yourong was on the verge of death, the Phoenix Soul awakened again.
“You want to create a miracle, but this place has long proven that there are no miracles.”
Shang Xingzhou said, “The Western Guest lost, the Lishan Ancestor lost, Chen Xuanba lost too; it was always Zhou Dufu who won.”
If there was such a thing as fate, then its annotation was that the strong always prevail. In the face of true power, words like passion, desire, dreams, ideals, persistence, courage, and sacrifice—these seemingly beautiful terms—held no meaning.
Chen Changsheng said, “Master, you said I wouldn’t live past twenty, but I did.”
Shang Xingzhou replied, “That was also relying on her power.”
“But that wasn’t fate, at least not the fate you arranged for me.”
Chen Changsheng looked at the grassland below Muyu, at the water and grass that were countless times richer than three years ago, and at the faintly visible herds of beasts. He was silent for a moment, then turned to Shang Xingzhou and said, “I call this a miracle.”
Shang Xingzhou gazed at him calmly and said, “Is that so?”
His Daoist sleeve fluttered lightly as he raised his left hand.
Five steady, slender fingers pointed at Chen Changsheng.
A gentle breeze came, and the old trees on Muyu swayed slightly.
The scene was beautiful, but Chen Changsheng felt a strong sense of danger.
Without hesitation, his hand fell on the sword hilt.
He prepared to draw the Stainless Sword, hold it across his chest, and execute the Clumsy Sword, which he hadn’t used in a long time.
He was wearing Zhexiu’s clothes, with short sleeves.
His shoulders had always been relaxed.
Across the entire continent, aside from Liu Qing, no one drew their sword faster than him.
If that wasn’t fast enough, he had an even quicker sword.
He only needed a thought, and the thousands of swords in the scabbard would stream out, forming an ocean of blades.
Even if Shang Xingzhou suppressed his cultivation below the Divine Domain, even his usual self couldn’t break the Nanxi Zhai Sword Formation in an instant.
As long as he was given a moment, he could find an opportunity.
However.
His hand didn’t reach the sword hilt.
Nor did the thousands of swords soar into the air to form the Nanxi Zhai Sword Formation.
Because his sword was gone.
Both the Stainless Sword and the scabbard had vanished.
The gentle breeze on Muyu stirred his sash, but there was nothing on it.
The next moment.
A sword appeared in Shang Xingzhou’s hand.
His fingers were slender and steady, as if the sword had always been his.
“Everything you have, I gave you, including this sword and this scabbard.”
Shang Xingzhou looked at him calmly and said, “How can you defeat me?”
A gentle breeze swirled, but it carried a bone-chilling cold.
Clouds rose beneath their feet.
Shang Xingzhou drifted before Chen Changsheng and swung his right hand down.
This palm strike seemed ordinary, yet it seemed to align with the principles of heaven and earth, giving an unavoidable feeling.
Chen Changsheng couldn’t dodge.
Shang Xingzhou’s palm landed on his chest.
With a soft crack.
Chen Changsheng was knocked off the cliff edge.
He traced an arc in the sky above Muyu.
Like a falling leaf, or a stone, silently plummeting toward the grassland miles away.