Chapter 9: Training with the Sword

Chapter 9: What I Practice Is the Sword

On the Cliff of Reflection.

Standing before the old man Feng, whom he had longed to meet day and night—the legendary Sword Sage of Mount Hua, a peerless master whose strength was undoubtedly among the top three in the entire world of Swordsman, and who, in his previous life, had been revered by countless forum users as a super hidden master—Zheng Jian suddenly found that all his previous calculations and schemes were rendered speechless in this moment.

The reason he only ranked Old Feng among the top three was because this extraordinary recluse appeared only as a legend in the original work, never having faced the number one master, Chief Dongfang, in open combat. Who was stronger was hard to say; at least in Zheng Jian's mind, this old man, who could also pass gas, was on par with Chief Dongfang in terms of strength.

The so-called top three were really just these two; all other masters paled in comparison.

Suppressing his excitement, Zheng Jian stood tall and said, “From your words, you must be a senior of Mount Hua? I am Zheng Jian, first disciple to the current head. I often come to the Cliff of Reflection not so much because I am punished to face the wall, but simply because the scenery here is uniquely beautiful and tranquil.”

The surface meaning was, of course, that the Cliff of Reflection’s scenery was unlike anywhere else on Mount Hua. But the deeper meaning: it was because the old man himself was here!

This old man was truly the most unique scenery of Mount Hua.

Old Feng did not catch the underlying implication, but nodded gently, and the look in his eyes as he regarded Zheng Jian became more appreciative.

He had been observing Zheng Jian for a long time. Frankly, though the old man never appeared in person, the back mountains of Mount Hua were his place of seclusion; any movement, he would notice.

He had stayed hidden because the Qi School now held sway and the Sword School had declined. Old Feng had always been troubled by the events of the past and naturally did not wish to see the current disciples of Mount Hua.

This time, he was still observing in secret. Hearing Zheng Jian sing some strange tune, he became distracted and forgot to regulate his internal energy, resulting in a burst of impure qi that Zheng Jian discovered, forcing him to appear.

Of course, he had already observed Zheng Jian for quite some time and found him agreeable; otherwise, even if he had passed gas, he could have vanished in an instant.

Old Feng pondered for a moment and then said, “You are clever. Yes, I am indeed a person of Mount Hua, though I have long ceased to concern myself with worldly affairs. Do not ask my name; just regard me as a rustic villager.”

Ha! Anyone ignorant might believe a bit of that. But could Zheng Jian believe it? Rustic villager? Even Zhuge Liang once claimed to be a farmer working the fields. Look at those who call themselves mountain villagers—how many aren’t masters of some great skill? Zheng Jian knew perfectly well that this was the Sword Sage!

Old Feng saw Zheng Jian’s skeptical gaze and chuckled, saying, “Since you are a disciple of Mount Hua, surely you practice swordsmanship? Why not show me a few moves, so I may see the level of today’s Mount Hua disciples?”

The main event had come!

Zheng Jian had been longing for this; he had spent years on the Cliff of Reflection waiting for the old man, all in hopes of receiving his guidance.

Without hesitation, he drew the sword at his waist and, before Old Feng, demonstrated every move and stance of Mount Hua swordsmanship, emphasizing one word: stability.

When finished, he sheathed his sword and stood.

Old Feng’s eyes, which had been smiling, grew complicated, and his expression turned bleak, as if reminded of past sorrows. “Young man, what is this you’re practicing?” He could see that this was certainly the Qi School; the swordplay lacked any vitality, relying solely on qi to wield the blade. Though he had secluded himself for decades and had come to terms with the struggle between Qi and Sword Schools, as a master of the Sword School, he could not bear to see Mount Hua swordsmanship reduced to this.

Zheng Jian was prepared and answered earnestly, “I practice the sword.”

Old Feng was momentarily at a loss, his emotions disrupted. He had been feeling melancholic, but Zheng Jian’s reply swept away all thoughts of sorrow.

He never expected Zheng Jian to answer so, yet it wasn’t wrong—he practiced the sword, indeed. Still, this boy was infuriatingly clever. How did Yue Buqun teach him, or how did he survive such teaching?

“Yue Buqun, in my impression, was always upright,” Old Feng wondered.

In Zheng Jian’s mind: “Resentment value from Feng Qingyang +6.”

“So little?” Zheng Jian thought, feeling speechless. This old man’s self-control was truly remarkable!

“Hmm, your summary is apt. All sword techniques in the world, no matter how varied, never stray from their roots. Observing all swords, simplifying complexity, from myriad to one—they remain the sword. You have considerable insight, young man,” Feng Qingyang mused, now viewing Zheng Jian with renewed respect.

He had thought, since fate had brought them together, he might as well impart a few pointers. But at this moment, his thoughts shifted, and he conceived a new idea.

Zheng Jian was baffled. Clearly, he was bluffing, hoping to gain some advantage, yet the old man interpreted it as insight?

No wonder the resentment value was only six.

His magnanimity was a burden to Zheng Jian—mildly damaging, yet deeply insulting.

“Young man, I won’t hide it. My surname is Feng, and I know a thing or two about swordsmanship. Here are a few refined techniques; would you like to learn them?” Feng Qingyang asked, somewhat reserved.

“No!” Zheng Jian replied bluntly, “Unless you can defeat me! If you only know ‘a thing or two,’ why should I learn?”

Resentment value from Feng Qingyang +666.

Zheng Jian rejoiced inwardly, “Got you!”

He had done it on purpose, teasing the old man a bit. After so many years, who wouldn’t have some pent-up resentment?

This was just Zheng Jian’s way—calculating and precise!

Feng Qingyang, as expected, retorted angrily, “Defeat you? Are you saying I can’t beat you? Insolent boy, come now, use all your strength and attack me. Today I’ll teach you what the sword truly is!”

Zheng Jian grinned, thinking, “My luck has come.” Feng Qingyang never formally fought in the original story; now, to spar with him, it was clear he truly wished to pass on his skills. How could Zheng Jian not be delighted?

He solemnly bowed, “Senior, please be careful.”

“Come!”

Zheng Jian summoned all his true energy, his sword trembling, bursting forth with a surge of sword light toward Feng Qingyang. His opening move was Mount Hua’s famed “Three Peaks of Taiyue”!

“Good lad, you nearly fooled me; your swordsmanship is truly remarkable,” Feng Qingyang knew he had been played by this rascal. Though this strength was nothing before him, at this age, it was impressive anywhere.

Yue Buqun certainly had a fine disciple!

Unfortunately, facing Feng Qingyang, he simply raised two fingers as a sword, and commanded, “Sword-breaking style!”

A fierce brilliance erupted from his fingertips, instantly shredding the approaching sword light, intercepting all of Zheng Jian’s maneuvers.

As the sword light faded, Feng Qingyang’s two fingers hovered before Zheng Jian.

...

(End of chapter)