Chapter 19: The One Clumsy with the Sword
In those hastily sketched strokes, Guan Bai saw Zhou Ziheng’s lone boat and solitary sword descending from beyond the heavens, its momentum truly vast and overwhelming.
But he could see Chen Changsheng’s sword strike even more clearly.
That sword strike was a single stroke.
Just one stroke.
Like a great dike, like an iron chain, like a cliffside rock, like a sword drawn across one’s own throat.
Guan Bai’s chest ached faintly.
If his junior brother could understand the principle behind this sword—taking the straight path in all things—how could he have ended up in his current state?
He looked at his classmates, whose faces were filled with confusion, and said, “This sword strike—Chen Changsheng has practiced it at least ten thousand times.”
The students of the Heavenly Dao Academy were puzzled and asked, “Is that enough?”
“As far as I know, Chen Changsheng has only been learning the sword for about a year. In that short time, he has practiced this one simple sword strike ten thousand times.”
Guan Bai said expressionlessly, “For someone so clumsy with the sword to agree to a duel with Zhou Ziheng—how could Zhou Ziheng’s sword possibly have any chance of winning?”
After saying this, he shook his head, rose, and walked out of the room.
The scenery within the Heavenly Dao Academy was picturesque; no matter which way one walked, the views were beautiful—like the lake and hills that greeted him ahead.
By the lakeside stood a middle-aged man whose silhouette seemed very lonely.
He was the dean of the Heavenly Dao Academy, Zhuang Huanyu’s father.
He turned around and said to Guan Bai, “You have a very high opinion of Chen Changsheng.”
Guan Bai replied, “Since he is destined to be an opponent, my evaluation should be all the more calm and objective.”
Dean Zhuang looked at him and said, “If you knew that Chen Changsheng learned that sword strike in no more than thirty days, would your opinion of him be even higher?”
Hearing this, Guan Bai was silent for a long time, then said, “I don’t care what you think. Huanyu is ultimately my junior brother, and I must do something for him.”
Dean Zhuang sighed and said, “It seems you are determined to participate in the Boiling Stone Assembly.”
Guan Bai said, “Yes, because I want to know—if Chen Changsheng were given another three hundred days, how far could that sword strike of his go?”
At the entrance of the National Academy, Zhou Ziheng’s sword came sweeping in with the wind and rain, its momentum overwhelming. If the priests of the Li Palace had not set up a formation in advance last night, the crowd watching from the periphery might have been injured by his sword’s force.
Just as Guan Bai had seen through the sketch, Chen Changsheng only used one sword strike.
Of course, it wasn’t literally just one strike. “One sword strike” here meant that he repeatedly used the same sword technique. From the moment Zhou Ziheng’s sword came with wind and rain, to when the stormy momentum had fully formed, Chen Changsheng always used that same strike.
In Guan Bai’s eyes, he was someone clumsy with the sword, so naturally, the sword he used was also somewhat clumsy.
It was the third sword strike that Su Li had taught him back then.
This sword had a very foolish name: the Fool’s Sword.
This sword also looked very foolish. Sometimes it seemed like he was carrying a load, sometimes like he was leading a horse, sometimes like he was preparing to cut his own throat—in short, it never looked like he was striking with a sword.
The blade never pointed outward; the sword body remained straight and level, always in front of him.
This seemingly simple sword strike was actually far from simple, because even Su Li had never mastered it. In fact, Chen Changsheng was the first person to learn the Fool’s Sword.
To master this sword, nothing else was needed—not talent, not insight. All that was required was relentless practice, clumsy repetition, and an unwavering belief that one could do it.
Zhou Ziheng’s sword was truly powerful. His sword momentum came crashing like ocean waves, striking again and again, yet no matter what, it could not get past that single sword.
The sword in Chen Changsheng’s hand became an iron chain pulled taut by a giant ship, became a stubborn poplar tree.
Zhou Ziheng’s sword came like a lone boat—and was blocked.
Zhou Ziheng’s sword came like wind and rain—and was still blocked.
No matter how exquisite Zhou Ziheng’s sword techniques were, they could never break through Chen Changsheng’s defense. The blade tip stabbed against Chen Changsheng’s sword body countless times, sending sparks flying in all directions.
When the two swords met, they radiated boundless light. Most of the watching commoners were forced to shield their eyes, thinking in awe that Zhou Ziheng truly lived up to his reputation as a Star Gathering realm expert. His sword moved like the wind, and in an instant, he had pushed Chen Changsheng back step by step.
Ordinary people couldn’t understand the dynamics of the battle, but there were those who could.
The moment Chen Changsheng struck, a sudden gasp erupted from the awning. The painter from the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion began to tremble as he started his second sketch.
In the tea house on Hundred Flowers Lane, Xue Xingchuan sat by the window, watching the dazzlingly bright sword light. He silently thought of his younger brother’s letter, noting that this young man’s swordsmanship had improved yet again.
The sword light was blinding, like countless bolts of lightning.
Accompanied by thunderclaps.
The booming sounds of sword clashes suddenly ceased the next moment.
Zhou Ziheng withdrew his sword and looked at Chen Changsheng, who had retreated to the front of the academy gate. A strange shock stirred in his heart.
He never imagined that Chen Changsheng could defend against so many of his strikes.
After all, his Wind and Rain Lone Boat Sword emphasized momentum and was unmatched in its domineering force. Not to mention that he was at the Star Gathering realm, while Chen Changsheng was only at the Penetrating Obscurity realm.
Even if Chen Changsheng’s swordsmanship was exquisitely unmatched, with his level of cultivation, how could he withstand so many of his strikes without being injured—without even his hand holding the sword trembling?
The next moment, the shock in his eyes was replaced by ruthlessness. His somewhat damaged confidence was restored.
Because Chen Changsheng had retreated.
He hadn’t let Zhou Ziheng’s Wind and Rain Lone Boat Sword land on him, but he also couldn’t hold his ground.
After all, he was only at the Penetrating Obscurity realm. Even though he had bathed in dragon blood and possessed a body strength and power comparable to the Star Gathering realm, there were still gaps that couldn’t be bridged.
Especially since his meridians were severed. The amount of true essence he could output couldn’t compare to Zhou Ziheng’s, nor even to other cultivators at the same realm.
Zhou Ziheng recalled the details of the earlier fight. Through the vibrations transmitted back through the sword each time they clashed, he confirmed this fact.
Xue Xingchuan in the tea house and certain important figures under the awning also saw this truth clearly.
Chen Changsheng’s swordsmanship was indeed exquisite, and his strength was astonishingly great. But his true essence reserves were insufficient.
His true essence couldn’t sustain a battle at this level.
These people were no weaker than Guan Bai in cultivation. Some, like Xue Xingchuan, far surpassed him. But they were not swordsmen.
They couldn’t read the confidence in Chen Changsheng’s sword technique.
Zhou Ziheng was a swordsman, but he was also caught up in the battle, so he didn’t understand either.
He thought he had seen through Chen Changsheng’s weakness, and his confidence was reborn.
He looked at Chen Changsheng, a mocking smile curling at the corner of his lips, ready to say a few words.
Chen Changsheng didn’t give him that chance. He thrust his sword straight at him.
At that moment, the entrance of the National Academy was very quiet, like the calm before dawn, or the stillness before a storm.
At such times, there is often a bird’s call, or a swallow skimming low, followed by the arrival of morning light or a downpour.
This was a rhythm.
Chen Changsheng’s sword strike simply broke that rhythm.
Whether it was Zhou Ziheng or the watching crowd, everyone felt deeply uncomfortable because the rhythm had been shattered.
The morning light came too quickly. The rain suddenly fell.
Too sudden.
Under the awning, the sound of tables and chairs toppling rang out.
In the tea house, Xue Xingchuan shot to his feet, his face full of disbelief.
In battle, breaking the opponent’s rhythm was a common tactic.
The problem was that few could do it as naturally as Chen Changsheng.
The real reason for their shock was this: it strongly suggested that the rhythm of this battle… had actually been under Chen Changsheng’s control the entire time.
The gap between the Star Gathering realm and the Penetrating Obscurity realm was enormous. In such a battle, the weaker side could fight bitterly, shed blood, unleash a burst of talent, or even miraculously break through mid-battle like Wang Po had back then. But for the weaker party to control the rhythm of the entire battle from start to finish, facing their opponent with the mindset of a superior—what kind of confidence was that?
How could he be so confident?
Some under the awning understood, and so they dropped their teacups in shock and kicked over their tables and chairs in astonishment.
Xue Xingchuan in the tea house also understood, and so he rose abruptly, too stunned to speak.
Chen Changsheng’s confidence lay in his sword.
In this sword strike of his.
The first strike he had aimed at Zhou Ziheng.
This sword strike was so exquisite it seemed heaven-made.
This sword strike was impossible to avoid.
This sword strike had already calculated all of Zhou Ziheng’s escape routes.
The moment Chen Changsheng struck, if Zhou Ziheng had retreated at top speed, he might have had a slim chance. But he didn’t.
Because he was at the Star Gathering realm, and Chen Changsheng was only at the Penetrating Obscurity realm. He represented the ancestral temple in challenging the National Academy, and everyone felt he was bullying the weak, looking down on him. Under these circumstances, if he was forced back by Chen Changsheng’s sword, he would lose even more face. Of course, he knew Chen Changsheng’s sword strike must be formidable. Whether from the rumors that he was a junior of His Holiness the Pope or that he had traveled for days with that sword master, this strike was certainly no simple matter. So he didn’t choose to meet it head-on either; he prepared to evade.
But then he was shocked to find that Chen Changsheng’s sword gave him a feeling of being impossible to avoid.
What kind of sword was this?
At the most dangerous moment, Zhou Ziheng finally abandoned all his obsessions and returned to the true heart of a swordsman. With a clear cry, his long sword shot into the air, slashing several times before him.
A barrier, indescribable in words, was born from his sword momentum, separating him from Chen Changsheng.
On that barrier, beautiful starlight faintly flowed. The starlight came from his sword, but its source was much higher—the sky.
This was the most powerful means of a Star Gathering realm expert, and the very reason the Star Gathering realm was so named.
A Star Gathering realm expert could forcibly convert true essence back into starlight, as if their destiny star had entered their body, creating their own domain—a star domain. The star domain was a world unto itself, filled with an endless, nearly perfect flow of star radiance. It could be said to be indestructible, only to be crushed by a higher realm or greater true essence.
A genius of the Meditation Observation realm might barely overcome the Penetrating Obscurity realm, like Luo Luo, whose bloodline talent was extremely domineering, allowing her to sweep through ordinary early Penetrating Obscurity cultivators even at the Meditation Observation realm. But for a Penetrating Obscurity cultivator to defeat a Star Gathering cultivator was basically impossible—precisely because of the star domain.
Unless absolutely necessary, Zhou Ziheng didn’t want to use the star domain at all, because it would look too ugly.
But now he had no choice, because Chen Changsheng’s sword was simply too terrifying.
Before the National Academy’s gate, starlight shone brilliantly, as if competing with the sun.
A gasp rose from the crowd, mixed with faint sounds of cursing.
Under the awning, some sat back down, especially the important figures supporting the Tianhai family, who even smiled.
But Xue Xingchuan didn’t sit down. He still watched the scene.
Inside the star domain, Zhou Ziheng’s expression was grim. Even if he won this battle today, it would be an ugly victory.
Still, victory was better than defeat.
Through the faint starlight, looking at Chen Changsheng’s sword, he wanted to tell him: Although you can’t defeat me, forcing me to deploy my star domain is something to be proud of.
—That line was good, with the bearing of a senior master.
Zhou Ziheng thought this, planning to say it aloud to the crowd after Chen Changsheng’s sword was blocked by the star domain and he struck to win easily.
Then, he heard a soft *pfft* sound.
What was that sound?
It was the sound of a sword piercing flesh.
It was the sound of Chen Changsheng’s sword piercing his body.
Chen Changsheng’s sword, without any pause, pierced through his star domain and stabbed into his chest.
His face instantly turned pale, and in his heart, he screamed in disbelief: “How is this possible?”
Under the awning, several shocked cries rang out: “What just happened?”
(Still short by fifteen hundred words; I’ll finish quickly.)