Chapter 150: The Sky
Chen Changsheng’s speed was indeed fast, and his fist was indeed straight.
Logically speaking, his fist would certainly miss, unable to strike Huo Guang, who had risen gracefully with his Cloud-Stepping Body Technique.
His fist did indeed land in empty air, striking the void with a resonant hum, like an ancient bell being tolled.
The air, which offered no resistance, seemed to be shattered by this punch.
Yet his fist did not stop there; it continued forward.
In the shattered air, a passage seemed to appear—one invisible to the naked eye, yet its presence felt undeniably real.
The great figures in the Zhaowen Hall, watching the scene on the light mirror, also sensed the existence of this passage.
That passage was punched through by Chen Changsheng’s fist, but it was not straight; it was a curved line, its front end slightly tilted upward.
This invisible line was smooth, beautiful, possessing a natural, effortless grace.
How could a straight fist carve a curved passage through the air?
There could only be one explanation: at the final moment of its release, his fist intent changed direction.
What fist technique in the world could achieve this?
Huo Guang swept upward toward the sky.
Chen Changsheng’s fist followed that invisible curve, heading toward the sky.
“The Sky-Scorching Sword!”
A cry of shock rang out in the Zhaowen Hall from Xue Xingchuan.
Indeed, no fist technique could alter the direction of fist intent at the last moment.
The great figures in the Zhaowen Hall were all well-traveled and knowledgeable; they were certain that no such technique existed.
But there was a sword technique that could do it—changing the direction of sword intent at the final moment of a sword move.
Earlier, the great figures in the Zhaowen Hall had silently counted; there were perhaps only three methods in the world capable of this, and among them was this sword technique.
The Sky-Scorching Sword from the Lishan Sword Style!
Scraping sounds of chairs and the floor followed in succession in the Zhaowen Hall.
The great figures rose in shock, staring at the light mirror showing the young boy clenching his fist to strike the heavens, their faces filled with astonishment and fear.
How could a student of the National Academy have learned the secret sword of the Lishan Sword Style, passed down only within the sect?
Legend had it that the Sky-Scorching Sword of the Lishan Sword Style was a secret sword created by the legendary Lishan Little Uncle Master, never shown to outsiders, until hundreds of years ago, when he returned to Lishan after wandering the world and, under the earnest pleas of the then sect leader, recorded this move into the general compendium of the Lishan Sword Style.
This move was famous, yet rarely learned, because it was extremely difficult to master, requiring an exceptionally high level of spiritual condensation.
Among this generation of Lishan Sword Sect disciples, it was said that only Qiu Shanjun and Gou Hanshi had learned this move.
Now, this move appeared in Chen Changsheng’s hands.
He did not use a sword; he used his fist.
The sky-scorching sword naturally became a sky-shattering punch.
Between his fist and the azure sky stood Huo Guang.
So before his fist could shatter the azure sky, it first had to land on Huo Guang.
A muffled boom.
That was the sound of fist meeting body.
Chen Changsheng’s fist struck Huo Guang between his chest and abdomen.
Simple, precise, powerful.
A second muffled boom.
That was the sound of body colliding with air.
Huo Guang’s body suddenly lifted off the ground, flying toward the sky, and in moments, became a small black shadow.
Outside the Dust-Washing Tower, the examinees gathered before the stone steps, waiting for the outcome of this match.
Just then, they heard two consecutive roars.
Because of the soundproofing formations inside the Dust-Washing Tower, they had heard nothing earlier, and unlike during Tang Thirty-Six and Liang Banhu’s match, they hadn’t seen any projection of sword intent in the azure sky. They couldn’t help but think less of Huo Guang and Chen Changsheng, who were participating in this match.
Until these two thunderous roars suddenly erupted, as if exploding right in their ears.
The examinees were utterly shocked. Following the whoosh of the roar, they raised their eyes and saw the figure flying toward the sky.
A dead silence fell over the scene. Many examinees had their mouths open, but no one spoke.
They watched helplessly as that figure flew to an extremely high place, then began to fall back down.
A moment later, a slight tremor came from the ground.
The examinees looked down at their feet, then up at the Dust-Washing Tower, speechless with shock, feeling their hearts tremble along with it.
That tremor must have been that person landing on the ground, right?
Most examinees hadn’t clearly seen who the figure was that had been blasted into the sky, but for some reason, everyone instinctively assumed it wasn’t Chen Changsheng.
Inside the Dust-Washing Tower.
Chen Changsheng stood with his right foot forward and left foot back, like a drawn bow.
His right arm was slightly bent, his fist raised to the sky like a torch.
Huo Guang was sent flying.
He withdrew his fist, then pulled back his right foot, straightened his body, and looked up at the sky.
His gaze rose, then fell, following that figure back into the tower.
A muffled thud, a faint stir of dust, a slight tremor in the ground.
As the dust gradually settled, Huo Guang lay on the ground, spitting blood continuously, his bones broken in who knew how many places.
From the moment he left the ground, the examiners on the second floor had rushed down, ready for rescue.
The female clergy from the Qingyao Thirteen Divisions continuously scattered clear light, stopping his bleeding and ensuring his life was not in danger, before they would transfer him to the Li Palace.
Lying on the yellow-sand-covered ground, looking at the azure sky, Huo Guang’s expression was pained, his eyes filled with resentment and anger, but most of all, confusion.
He didn’t understand why he had lost this match.
Remember, before entering the capital, he had already known in advance who his opponent would be.
If Chen Changsheng couldn’t pass the martial exam, he naturally wouldn’t participate in the match; if he couldn’t even pass the first round, he wouldn’t encounter him. What he knew was that as long as Chen Changsheng entered the second round, he would be his opponent, and he would become an insurmountable mountain for him, thus correcting history at this moment, bringing the North-South convergence back on track…
But now, he lay on the ground, too severely injured to move, unable even to turn his neck, a simple action.
He wanted to say something to Chen Changsheng, but he couldn’t see him, couldn’t speak, and could only gaze at that azure sky.
The sky over the academy was much lower than the sky outside; just now, he had even thought he might touch it.
Just as he had thought before entering the Dust-Washing Tower that he could easily defeat Chen Changsheng.
But in reality, the sky was unreachable.
He hadn’t been able to defeat Chen Changsheng either.
Why?
Chen Changsheng could imagine how complicated Huo Guang’s feelings were at this moment, and those of the great figures behind him, but he didn’t dwell on it. Because others’ feelings had nothing to do with him; whether their arsenic was his honey or not, it didn’t matter—he never wasted time on such pointless matters.
He didn’t look at Huo Guang lying on the ground. He bowed to the Li Palace clergy presiding over the match, then walked out of the Dust-Washing Tower.
From entering the Dust-Washing Tower to leaving, Chen Changsheng hadn’t said a single word.
Before the match began, Huo Guang had said he wouldn’t humiliate him with words, because that would be boring and uninteresting; he would simply defeat him.
Chen Changsheng used facts to tell the other party that talking itself was boring and uninteresting. I came to fight, not to chat. Besides, we’re not familiar, and we don’t even know each other.
Also, before the match began, Huo Guang had looked down on him and said that if he didn’t draw his sword, he would never have the chance to draw it again.
Chen Changsheng proved with facts that the one who truly needed to draw his sword was Huo Guang himself.
In the Zhaowen Hall, silence returned once more.
It took a long time for the people to suppress the shock in their hearts.
Mo Yu looked at the empty yellow-sand ground on the light mirror, the corners of her lips twitching slightly, as if she wanted to smile, but in the end, she maintained her cold expression.
Xue Xingchuan turned to look at Bishop Melisandre, full of confusion about the level Chen Changsheng had displayed.
It was then that people noticed the Bishop had closed his eyes again at some point, as if falling back asleep.
But the wrinkles on his face had become much smoother.
The once glaring age spots had also faded considerably.
A faint smile lingered on his face.
(Note: The character design images for the “Ze Tian Ji” animation have been released, eight in total. I’ve posted them on WeChat—go take a look. The eight characters are: Chen Changsheng, Xu Yourong, Tang Thirty-Six, Luo Luo, Ji Daoren, Yu Ren, the Demon Lord, and Her Majesty the Saint Empress. Reply with the character’s name to receive the corresponding image, or reply “Ze Tian Ji animation character designs” to get a collection of all eight. For those who haven’t added me yet, you can search for “Mao Ni” or “maut1118” on the public account—the latter is easier to find. That’s the WeChat public account. Friendly tip: Replying with character names from “The Night” will also bring surprises. Of course, there should be many other things of interest in the public account. Oh, and personally, I think the Saint Empress’s portrait is a bit too thin, and someone’s chest is a bit too small. I wonder what everyone else thinks, heh heh.)