Chapter 13: Who Is the Top Master of Mount Hua Sect?

Chapter 13: Who Is the Top Dog of Mount Hua?

Elder Yue arrived in a leisurely manner, and left just as calmly. The disciples gathered on the training grounds exchanged bewildered glances. Lao Denor, feeling guilty, shot a furtive look at Zheng Jian, only to find Zheng Jian staring right back at him. His heart suddenly began to race.

“Well, um, I—I have something to do, so I’ll just be going now,” Lao Denor stammered, making his escape. Considering Zheng Jian’s usual habit of stirring up trouble when bored, today was not the day to linger—he needed to leave before it was too late.

The other disciples snapped out of their daze. One claimed, “Ah, I need to practice my sword on the back hill today,” while another insisted, “My puppy’s about to give birth.” Each made excuses, eager to slip away.

Zheng Jian launched himself forward, instantly blocking Lao Denor’s path and, incidentally, sealing off all the exits for the others. He grinned wickedly. “Why are you all in such a hurry? Didn’t we agree? Today, your senior brother is going to thoroughly test your swordsmanship!”

He deliberately emphasized the word “test.”

The disciples shivered, drawing sharp breaths. The world of Smiling Proud Wanderer warmed by a few degrees in that moment…

“Senior brother, look, I’m not like the others. Little junior sister and I just supported you, didn’t we? So, you see, maybe you could spare us from this assessment?” Lu Dayou—also known as Monkey Lu—stammered, pulling the bewildered Yue Lingshan into his plea.

“Enough nonsense! Today, none of you are getting away!” Zheng Jian snarled. Three days without a beating, and these fellows think themselves untouchable? He had to teach them a lesson—he’d make sure their resentment soared today!

“Linghu senior brother, you can’t just stand by…” Monkey Lu cast a desperate glance at Linghu Chong. Among the Mount Hua disciples, if anyone could match Zheng Jian, it was Linghu Chong, whose talent was renowned.

“Uh… I’d rather not get involved,” Linghu Chong hesitated, somewhat intimidated by Zheng Jian’s current demeanor.

“Are you really going to let our eldest brother bully little junior sister?” Liang Fa, the fourth disciple, was sharp-minded and had long noticed Linghu Chong’s feelings for the junior sister. Now, he whispered urgently in Linghu Chong’s ear.

Linghu Chong paused, then glanced at the still-confused junior sister. The thought of her adorable self about to be roughed up stirred his youthful passion; whatever fear he had of Zheng Jian vanished in an instant. He declared righteously, “It’s not about her. Since eldest brother wishes to test our sword skills, how can I, as a junior, stand aside?”

“Eldest brother, if that’s the case, I’ll challenge you first. Please show mercy,” Linghu Chong stepped forward, his gaze solemn, his demeanor heroic. To the disciples watching, he seemed to embody the spirit of gallant sacrifice before a cold river.

Zheng Jian chuckled. He’d only intended to teach Lao Denor and his group a lesson before leaving the mountain and earning some resentment points. Now that Linghu Chong had volunteered, how could he refuse?

As a traveler from another world, Zheng Jian understood Linghu Chong’s hidden feelings. Alas—when the heart is willing but the river flows elsewhere, childhood sweethearts are no match for fate’s sudden arrivals…

“Come then, Linghu junior brother. How could I refuse your request?” Zheng Jian smiled. “You may make the first move.”

Linghu Chong didn’t decline. He’d long wanted to spar with Zheng Jian—among their generation at Mount Hua, only the two of them stood out. Zheng Jian had once lagged behind, but now had overtaken him. Linghu Chong, proud of his talent, was eager for this duel.

The other disciples stepped back, clearing the ground.

Linghu Chong held his breath, gripping his sword, assuming the opening stance of Mount Hua swordplay. Seeing Zheng Jian standing relaxed, he thought, “Eldest brother may act recklessly, but he’s meticulous. This posture must be hiding something…”

“Careful!” Linghu Chong called, raising his sword. His first move was “White Clouds Emerge from the Valley,” a technique from Mount Hua swordplay. Internal energy surged, his speed increased, and several flashes of sword light shot toward Zheng Jian.

Zheng Jian watched, his estimation of Linghu Chong rising further. This fellow had true talent—even without external cheats, his Mount Hua swordplay already showed flair. His internal skills were lacking, but his sword moves had elements of the mysterious and dangerous essence of the style. Clearly, he was beginning to grasp its true spirit.

Mount Hua swordplay, compared to the other Five Mountain sword schools, excelled in its oddness and peril—its moves lofty and elegant, seeking victory through surprise and risk. Linghu Chong, young as he was, had already reached a high level. Across the Five Mountains, few his age could rival him.

But, to Zheng Jian, it still wasn’t enough.

He stepped forward, his sword sweeping out—the move was “Ancient Cypress Stands Tall.” In Zheng Jian’s hands, it resounded with wind and thunder. Sword lights layered around him, his silhouette blurring within.

Like pearls scattered on a jade plate, the sword danced with complexity and grace.

At this moment, Zheng Jian’s sword, though striking later, moved ahead—charging into Linghu Chong’s sword light.

Linghu Chong was shocked, unable to comprehend how Zheng Jian countered so swiftly. He had no time to change moves, and could only watch as Zheng Jian’s sword swept toward him.

Zheng Jian’s sword withdrew its light; he spun the blade, transforming the slash into a smack, striking Linghu Chong’s shoulder with the flat before sheathing his sword.

The onlookers were stunned. They knew the eldest brother’s strength had grown rapidly, and suspected Linghu Chong might lose, but hadn’t expected such a swift and decisive defeat…

At the very least, last thirty moves or so!

Linghu Chong’s quick loss left everyone feeling hopeless—what chance did they have against the eldest brother later?

Linghu Chong, unfazed by the blow, stared at Zheng Jian in amazement. “Brother, how did you use your sword that way? ‘White Clouds Emerge from the Valley’ should be countered by ‘Rainbow Pierces the Sun,’ shouldn’t it?”

Zheng Jian’s technique overturned Linghu Chong’s understanding of swordplay.

Zheng Jian smiled, “Who told you that when you use ‘White Clouds Emerge from the Valley,’ I must respond with ‘Rainbow Pierces the Sun’?”

“But—our master said ‘White Clouds Emerge from the Valley’…” Linghu Chong began to protest, but found himself unable to articulate his argument. Though Zheng Jian’s words made sense, he was still trapped by conventional thinking.

“Linghu junior brother, you mean to say that ‘White Clouds Emerge from the Valley’ should be countered by ‘Rainbow Pierces the Sun,’ and ‘Phoenix Arrives’ should be met by ‘Pine Welcomes the Guest,’ right?” Zheng Jian’s expression turned serious—a rare sight for him…

…

(End of chapter)