Chapter 174: At the Moment of Closing His Eyes, He Sees the Lake and Mountain
The snowfield was very thick, its depth unknown. Each snowflake or snowflake fragment was a wisp of starlight, containing a great deal of energy. A snowfield, spanning several hundred zhang in every direction, held countless thousands of snowflakes and fragments, harboring an immeasurable amount of energy. Once ignited by spiritual sense, it instantly burst forth with countless rays of light and heat. Back in the underground space before the black dragon, Chen Changsheng had skipped Marrow Cleansing and gone straight to Sitting in Contemplation. He had nearly been ignited by those rays of light and heat in an instant. If not for the infusion of dragon blood, he would have died long ago. In his earlier battle with Zhuang Huanyu, he had ignited a snowfield again. Although his body, bathed in dragon blood, was now countless times tougher than before, it was still difficult to bear. If not for that sudden autumn rain, he might have died as well.
The light and heat emitted by a single snowfield were so terrifying that he could not withstand them, let alone igniting ten snowfields at once. He simply could not endure it; it was a completely desperate move.
He had to defeat Gou Hanshi and claim first place in order to enter Lingyan Pavilion and discover the secret of defying fate and changing his destiny. As he had said, he had to risk his life to save his own life.
In an instant, his body became scorching hot, his temperature rising to an unimaginable degree. The rain falling on him quickly evaporated. The drizzling rain could not even make his body the slightest bit wet. On the contrary, he began to sweat profusely, sweat pouring out like pulp, only to evaporate rapidly as it emerged from the surface of his body.
He was entirely enveloped in white steam, mingling rain and sweat, with a very strange smell. At the same time, his face, seen through the mist, appeared somewhat distorted and also strange.
In just a short while, his clothes became wet more than ten times and dried more than ten times. No matter how sturdy the fabric of his clothes was, it could not withstand such repeated strain. When the rain falling from above the Dust-Washing Pavilion suddenly thickened and the downpour intensified, his clothes were immediately torn apart, turning into more than ten strips hanging from his bare upper body. It looked somewhat comical, but to the people on the second floor, it was especially shocking.
Yes, the rain falling from above the Dust-Washing Pavilion had become extremely violent, as if it knew he was on the brink of life and death. The rain fell desperately, with a sound like someone had punctured the bottom of a celestial lake. Moreover, the rain was bitterly cold, like the last rain before the snow at the end of autumn.
Even so, the cold downpour soaking him could not stop his temperature from rising. Amid the streaks of white steam, his brows and eyes were filled with pain.
The cicada chirping outside the Dust-Washing Pavilion grew louder and more piercing.
Inside and outside the pavilion seemed like two different worlds, two different seasons.
Chen Changsheng’s muscles ached unbearably, as if torn apart. His skin became extremely sensitive; every raindrop felt like the pain of being flayed and stuffed with straw. He truly seemed to be burning, though no visible flames could be seen. The air around him was slightly distorted, creating a very eerie scene.
With such a terrifying amount of starlight burning and such unbearable pain, he could not close his eyes. He stared intently at Gou Hanshi’s eyes. His right hand, tied to the sword hilt with a cloth strip, was deathly pale. His steps began to move slowly but steadily, trying to find a chance for victory.
He did not know when he might faint from the pain or when he might be burned to death. He had to endure the agony and, while his true essence was unprecedentedly powerful, defeat his opponent.
Gou Hanshi watched him approach slowly through the white mist, his expression extremely solemn. He lightly shook his right arm, and the long sword shot into the air, then descended with a gentle yet resolute slash toward Chen Changsheng.
Amid the downpour, Chen Changsheng’s figure suddenly moved with terrifying speed, using the Yashiki Step to evade that balanced, upright, yet powerful sword intent. His short sword, riding the momentum of the rain, struck toward Gou Hanshi.
In an extremely brief time, the two exchanged sixteen sword strikes.
Gou Hanshi’s Lishan Sword Style was naturally exquisite and powerful, but Chen Changsheng’s responses were equally brilliant. Sometimes he turned the Falling Mountain Staff into sword techniques, and countless sword techniques from various sects and academies were effortlessly employed by him. Coupled with his deep familiarity with the Lishan Sword Style, he managed to barely fend off this onslaught.
The battle was tense. The spectators on the second floor remained silent, but their hearts were churning with countless waves. Especially regarding Chen Changsheng, they felt even more admiration. Watching this round of swordplay, they all thought that Zhuang Huanyu’s loss was truly not unjust.
In this battle, Chen Changsheng had displayed his terrifying will to fight and his exceptional learning ability. At the very beginning, when facing Zhuang Huanyu, he had lacked confidence in swordsmanship. Now, after fighting for this time against Gou Hanshi, whose swordsmanship was widely acknowledged as excellent, his sword techniques had become increasingly sharp, truly transforming the knowledge from cultivation books into combat power.
Unfortunately, the National Teaching Academy had its threshold, the Li Palace had its threshold, and the Dust-Washing Pavilion also had its threshold. This world was full of thresholds, blocking countless people. There was also a threshold before Gou Hanshi. No matter how outstanding Chen Changsheng was, no matter how strong his will, he could not cross it. After all, he had formally begun cultivation less than a year ago. If counting from the successful Marrow Cleansing, it was even less than a few months.
With a clear sound, the downpour inside the Dust-Washing Pavilion suddenly stopped.
The reason the downpour stopped was that Chen Changsheng’s body temperature had returned to normal.
Fortunately, he did not die. But the cause of this fortune was a misfortune—his true essence had been nearly exhausted in the battle.
The Dust-Washing Pavilion fell into dead silence.
Gou Hanshi stood still, his right sleeve slightly drooping, his face pale.
Chen Changsheng stood opposite him, his tattered clothes hanging in shreds, blood streaming from his bare body.
The battle had finally reached its end. He had lost all chance of victory. Yet, to the surprise of many, and even to himself, he did not feel much frustration, let alone any grief, indignation, or unwillingness. He was very calm.
Because he had done his best.
To survive, he had risked his life.
If even this could not succeed, it could only mean that the Heavenly Dao, or fate, had arranged it this way. He had not accepted it, had tried to challenge it, and then failed. That was all.
After the ten snowfields, he had ignited two more snowfields in succession. The last time, he had ignited all the snowfields. He had truly worked desperately, but he had not succeeded.
He had the right to be calm, even proud.
He lowered his head and looked at his right hand. The short sword was tied to his hand with a cloth strip.
Throughout this battle, his sword and Gou Hanshi’s sword had never truly met. On one hand, Gou Hanshi was cautious; on the other, it showed that Chen Changsheng’s strength was still far behind.
He should have been calm, so why was there still some unwillingness?
Chen Changsheng looked at the sword in his hand and thought silently.
Then he raised his head and walked toward Gou Hanshi, sword in hand.
He knew this would be the last time he raised his sword.
And so it was.
Gou Hanshi swung his arm, and Chen Changsheng was sent flying backward toward the stone wall.
Floating through the air, he felt a bit tired, a bit at peace, because he could finally stop thinking, finally stop feeling unwilling. Then he found the azure sky a bit dazzling.
He closed his eyes.
But it did not turn dark.
He saw those snowfields, burned out like scorched earth.
He saw the trickling streams remaining in the wilderness.
He saw a place farther away.
There, in the sky, hung a lake.
Only today did he see clearly that within that lake, there was a mountain peak.
(At the beginning of the month, I said I would update 120,000 words before the 20th, and I did. Although these past two days have truly worn me out to the point of being a wreck, I fell asleep several times while writing today. Plus, I’m using a laptop with an unfamiliar input method, so there are quite a few errors and omissions. I’ll fix them later. Since I’ve been away from home, updates are hard to guarantee. There will be no update tomorrow, and updates over the next ten-plus days will be sparse. If I don’t have time to write, I’ll ask for leave in advance. Goodnight, everyone.)