Chapter 15: Heaven and Earth
A gleam of sword light arose, so dim compared to the infinite radiance surging from the mist and snow on the other side of the bridge that it was utterly insignificant. The trajectory traced by the sword through the rain and fog, the direction it fell, was also so ordinary and unremarkable that anyone who saw it would consider it a very common sword technique. Yet at the very moment the sword tip lifted, the rain, fog, and drifting snow that had been falling from the sky suddenly stopped. Even the boundless light brought by the Zhai Sword began to converge and fade, annihilating into the Stainless Sword!
The Great Light Sword had not yet arrived; what came with the smoke and mist was the sword intent. Its form was formless, its meaning imageless. But Chen Changsheng had already seen through the intention of the Zhai Sword hidden behind the light, because he used the Wisdom Sword. He had spent seven full days polishing his Wisdom Eye, seeking to see the truth.
Being able to guess the sword intent hidden in the mist, being able to see the truth not yet revealed, did not mean he could easily break it. How did he do it? That seemingly casual lift of the Stainless Sword, that sword technique was clearly extremely ordinary, yet it was perfectly suited to the moment. It was like a meticulously detailed painting of flowers and birds: he seemed to casually and carelessly add the final stroke, the ink line so twisted and weak. But if you stepped back a little and looked, you would see it was a plum branch.
A random dot of ink could also be the finishing touch. An ordinary stroke could sometimes bring the entire picture to life.
The problem was, to place that dot of ink, to make that stroke, at the right time and in the right situation, required countless hours of practice and insight in ordinary times. Only then could you know where that stroke should fall and what brush technique to use.
What brush technique was this? What sword was this?
From a deck below the great ship's main deck came a somewhat uncertain voice: "Plum Cottage Small Sword?"
The speaker was an instructor from the Ancestral Sacrifice Institute. Given his status and position, he naturally couldn't stand at the ship's bow. But from a distance of about a li, he could still barely make out this sword strike Chen Changsheng had lifted in the rain and mist. He found the sword technique very familiar, was greatly surprised, and blurted it out without thinking.
Many people heard this remark. Recalling Chen Changsheng's sword strike, they realized it was indeed the extremely obscure Plum Cottage Small Sword from the Ancestral Sacrifice Institute. For a moment, no one could speak. The fact that Chen Changsheng's mastery of the sword path was incredibly broad had already shocked people into numbness. But how could he have thought of, and dared to use, such a common sword technique to break Xu Yourong's Great Light Sword? And it seemed to be succeeding?
Had it really succeeded? No, this was just the beginning.
The Great Light Sword, one of the five ultimate techniques in the world, was not so easily broken. Just as Chen Changsheng's sword technique rose through the rain and mist, showing its first edge, the light that had slightly faded within the mist and snow suddenly blazed forth again, transforming into countless sword marks, carrying snow and rain as it once again slashed toward Chen Changsheng.
The light was still within the mist and snow. Xu Yourong was still at the other end of the bridge. Yet countless sword techniques were already arriving in succession. Those sword techniques were all hidden, not yet unleashed. But just from the traces within the mist, one could sense how exquisitely marvelous and infinitely powerful these sword techniques were.
This was the most incredible aspect of the Great Light Sword. Light travels between heaven and earth, capable of imitating all things, capable of imitating all swords. No matter how high Chen Changsheng's cultivation on the sword path was, when faced with such a sword path ultimate technique that could change on its own, as splendid as brocade and as abundant as snowflakes, what could he do?
Xu Yourong's sword didn't pause at all. Just as that Ancestral Sacrifice Institute instructor cried out in surprise, the Zhai Sword broke through the snow. It was only a dozen zhang away from Chen Changsheng. The momentum of the Great Light Sword had already crossed the stone bridge and arrived before him.
Unlike the battles of the past few days in front of the National Academy, Chen Changsheng did not use the Yecha Step to try to escape her sword momentum or launch a preemptive strike. Because his battle with Nanke had made him very clear that trying to compete in speed with the Celestial Phoenix bloodline was a very foolish choice.
Moreover, since he had drawn the path on the snow bridge, and Xu Yourong had accepted the path, how could he retreat now? His expression was calm and focused. Gazing at the sky full of light within the mist and snow, he hesitated not at all. Holding the sword with both hands, he slashed downward from above, straight at the place where the light was strongest!
From the great ship came Tang Thirty-Six's shout of approval: "Mountain-Toppling Staff! Break!"
Xu Yourong's Zhai Sword had not yet truly descended. What broke through the mist and snow was the sword intent.
Similarly, Chen Changsheng's transformation of the National Academy's Mountain-Toppling Staff into a sword had not truly broken the Great Light Sword.
The light within the mist and snow had already changed through three sword intents, and Chen Changsheng had correspondingly delivered three sword strikes.
All of this happened within an extremely short span of time.
Sword light illuminated the Naihe Bridge shrouded in smoke, rain, and fog, and then did not fade again, one flash after another.
It was as if a midsummer thunderstorm had arrived over the Luo River, with lightning flashing from time to time.
Yet the clouds formed by the mist and snow were ultimately still so violent and powerful. They were not torn apart by those lightning bolts, moving instead toward the other end of the bridge.
Neither the people on the ships nor the commoners on both banks of the Luo River could clearly see the details on the Naihe Bridge anymore—things like the lightly floating sleeves and white gauze. They could only faintly make out the figures of Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong within the rain, fog, and snow.
The sacred aura radiating from the slowly advancing Xu Yourong grew increasingly intense. The oppressive pressure of the light grew stronger and stronger, like a divine statue in the Li Palace. Meanwhile, Chen Changsheng, standing in place, remained as before—calm and silent, like a stone, letting the flowing water wash over him without changing its form or moving its heart.
One moved; one was still.
What was still was the heart; what moved was the sword.
The Stainless Sword was like lightning. The Zhai Sword was more like a bright sun. But within the rain, fog, and snow, they were actually more like two ships sailing on a sea at dusk, facing the wind, breaking through the waves, gradually drawing closer and closer, until at last they would meet.
Until this moment, the swords of Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong had not yet met, but their sword intents had met countless times.
Countless crisp sword chimes rang out over the Luo River, followed immediately by the tearing sound of sword edges cutting through all hard things.
Protected by powerful formations, the Naihe Bridge, which even warships could not ram and destroy, appeared so fragile within the sea of light and the great waves stirred up by the two swords. Countless cracks appeared on the hard bridge surface. The flying stone chips were instantly pulverized by the sword momentum. The railings on both sides were covered with countless dense marks like spiderwebs. The stone-carved beast heads that had silently watched the Luo River for countless years were slashed by the drifting sword intent, sending stone chips flying, their ears broken and faces disfigured.
The commoners on both banks of the Luo River were farther away and couldn't see the scene on the bridge clearly. They could only see the light within the falling snow and hear the sounds. Even so, their minds were stirred and unsettled. The people on the ships were closer and were even more shaken by the exquisite sword techniques within the rain, fog, and snow, crying out in surprise.
"Is that the Tian Dang Sword Technique!"
"Fisherman's Song Three Times!"
"How does he know the sword techniques of the Heartless Sect!"
The cries of surprise came from below. The people standing at the ship's bow looked at the Naihe Bridge and remained silent.
Yes, there was indeed no sword technique in this world that could completely break the Great Light Sword. Because this sword technique from the Holy Maiden Peak was too incredible. At the moment the light appeared within the mist, Chen Changsheng recalled the records in the Daoist Canon and felt the same emotion—he had never seen a sword technique so intricate, nearly encompassing everything, yet so simple that it already secretly conformed to the Heavenly Dao. He hadn't even imagined it. The Great Light Sword was already the final shore of the sword path. Since he began his cultivation, only when he saw Su Li's sky-covering sword that cut open the path to the south on the demon snowfield had he felt something similar.
With his current cultivation on the sword path, there were only two ways to break the Great Light Sword: use the final form of the Li Mountain Dharma Sword, or, as he had done in the Zhou Garden or when facing Zhu Luo in Xunyang City, use the ten thousand swords hidden in the sword pool within the scabbard. However, the outcome of the former was inevitably mutual life or mutual death—not a choice. The latter was something he himself could not control—the consequence of unleashing ten thousand swords at once would surpass the deductions and calculations of these past seven days, so it also could not be chosen.
In the end, the method he used was the third sword Su Li had taught him, the very sword that Su Li himself had never learned. Only this time, he took the sword intent, not the sword itself. He did not use that sword for defense; he only used its clumsiness, because that method looked very clumsy no matter how you viewed it.
He used countless swords to break Xu Yourong's single sword.
Light shines upon the mortal world, capable of imitating all sword intents of heaven and earth.
So he would unleash all the swords of heaven and earth.
This method was clumsy. But a person who could learn all the swords of heaven and earth and know when to strike and which sword to strike, so that he could break the formless form and the imageless intent before the light—how could he truly be a stupid person?
The instructors and students from the various Green Vine academies below the great ship couldn't understand. But the important figures standing at the ship's bow understood this very clearly.
So, looking at the sword intents crisscrossing between heaven and earth above the snow bridge, they remained silent for a long time.
The Minister of Rites was not a cultivator. Unable to restrain himself, he asked, "How many swords now?"
The King of Linghai said expressionlessly, "Dean Chen has delivered forty-three swords."
Master Siyuan said with complex emotions, "And not a single one has been completed yet."
Both statements from these two leaders of the state religion were correct, and they were not referring separately to Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong.
Xu Yourong's Great Light Sword strike had indeed not yet been fully executed.
Chen Changsheng's forty-three swords could, of course, be understood as one sword.
Silence fell over the ship's bow. In fact, people had been talking at the very beginning.
When Chen Changsheng delivered his sixth sword, Su Moyu said softly, "I lost."
When Chen Changsheng delivered his ninth sword, a general who had returned to the capital from the Galan Pass to report on his duties frowned slightly and shook his head.
When Chen Changsheng delivered his eleventh sword, Xue He gently touched his severed arm.
When Chen Changsheng delivered his twenty-seventh sword, Zhexiu shook his head. If he were to fight Chen Changsheng head-on, he would lose here. Of course, this was talking about sword dueling, not a life-or-death struggle. Then he glanced at Tang Thirty-Six, somewhat puzzled, thinking, could you really last longer than me?
Tang Thirty-Six had never said when he would lose. But now he said with emotion, "Have all of us learned our swords in vain?"
Many faces at the ship's bow turned somewhat ugly, but they couldn't refute it.
Everyone in the world knew that Chen Changsheng had thoroughly read the Daoist Canon. Had he also learned all the sword techniques in the world?
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(Without a backlog and busy as a dog, these days are just this sad. I really miss my work state from last month. I want to try to work hard starting next Tuesday.)