Su Hongzhen was speechless.
About half an hour earlier, Immortal Master Zhou, who had seemed in a foul mood, had burst into his room, yanked the still-sleeping Little Su out of bed, and shoved a wooden sword into his hands. Then she ordered him to swing the sword three thousand times in the courtyard.
Cultivators in the Qi Circulation Realm rarely needed much sleep. But after excessive training, when body and mind were exhausted, sleep was indeed the best way to restore energy. It had to be said, Little Su took his cultivation seriously. His methods, however, were a bit wild compared to most cultivators.
Right now his training focus wasn’t on raising his cultivation or realm. Instead, it was on how to beat Zhou Jinyun once. He knew full well that whether he beat Zhou Jinyun meant nothing for his cultivation progress. Still, it was his obsession. Chen Yan also knew about this fixation and approved. Chen Yan understood Su Hongzhen’s talent — improving his realm for Little Su was as easy as drinking water. More important was purity of sword intent.
So Little Su poured his energy into improving his sword techniques and footwork. On the surface both his footwork and swordplay looked like a mess, but that was only surface-level. Little Su was exploring his own path. Though somewhat defiant, when he saw Zhou Jinyun’s sullen face he decided it was best not to provoke that hard-to-deal-with female Immortal Master for now.
He shouldered his wooden sword and went to the inn’s courtyard to practice swings. When he had just finished his one hundred and seventy-fourth strike, he heard shouting from a window on the inn’s second floor.
“What kind of garbage are you practicing! Your posture’s wrong, your power’s wrong, everything’s wrong, stop making a fool of yourself!”
Surprised, Su Hongzhen looked up, his gaze meeting that of a boy at the second-floor window who looked about his age.
“What’s wrong with it?” Little Su, of course, was annoyed at the boy’s words. Although Chen Yan and Zhou Jinyun had seen that Little Su had a good temperament during their time together, that didn’t mean he had no temper.
“So, you want to be a swordsman?” …
Then came that exchange. The boy, who introduced himself as the Young Manor Lord of Fuliuliu Willow Sword Manor, drew his sword at his waist. The metallic rasp sounded, and the tip of his blade aimed for Su Hongzhen’s throat.
Su Hongzhen’s expression didn’t change; he only shifted his feet half a step backward. The sword tip slid past his throat by the tiniest margin, barely missing his neck. The Young Manor Lord jabbed again, targeting Su Hongzhen’s side-chest. Su Hongzhen elegantly sidestepped and easily avoided it. The blade still grazed his gray daoist robes; one could even hear the cloth scrape against the sword.
“Hmm?” Mr. You raised an eyebrow at the sight. Such exquisite distance control is usually only possible when a higher-realm cultivator looks down on a lower-realm one. But Su Hongzhen’s realm was only mid-stage Qi Circulation, and his foundation wasn’t even solid. The Young Manor Lord opposite him was solidly late-stage Qi Circulation. In the Moxu Mountain region, reaching late-stage Qi Circulation at fourteen or fifteen was already impressive — a one-in-ten-thousand talent. Still, their footwork and distance control didn’t look like two cultivators of the same realm at all. It looked like teasing.
Every strike the Young Manor Lord launched aimed to kill. Su Hongzhen clearly understood that. Yet he moved with ease, avoiding each slash and thrust perfectly. The wooden sword in his right hand hung relaxed at his side as if he had no intention of counterattacking.
When Su Hongzhen’s gaze met Mr. You, he recognized him. A few days earlier, Yan Ge had brought this young cultivator in simple robes back with him. From Yan Ge’s behavior, this young man in plain robes seemed a very reliable senior. Mr. You gave Su Hongzhen a slight nod. Su Hongzhen understood.
At the instant the Young Manor Lord swung his sword at him again, Little Su charged toward the blade. He seized the opening, crashing into the Manor Lord’s chest during the follow-through. He bumped the Manor Lord’s chin with his elbow, used his right hand to press down on the Manor Lord’s sword arm, and placed the wooden sword across the Manor Lord’s throat. Then his left hand rose and pinned the Manor Lord’s right hand that held the sword, and he shoved with force.
The Manor Lord, startled by the pain, released the sword and toppled backward under Su Hongzhen’s push. Everything happened in a flash, flowing like cloud and water.
“So weak.” Su Hongzhen couldn’t help but murmur, comparing the boy to the one-year-older Immortal Master Zhou — the Weaving Dreams Tower chief disciple with talent to ascend to immortality.
The Young Manor Lord, disarmed and pinned to the ground, showed a hint of terror in his eyes. He hadn’t expected this outcome. His gaze dropped slightly to the wooden sword at his throat. The fear on his face instantly vanished, replaced by arrogance.
“How dare you strike back. I order you to let me up this instant. My father might not kill you, otherwise—” Before he finished, a cold flash crossed his vision. The sword he had just let go of reappeared before him, held by a hand that was fair, slender, and undeniably beautiful.
Su Hongzhen looked up at the owner of that hand. The girl’s face was icy and expressionless, and she wore a gray daoist robe. She turned the sword in her hand, gripping the blade, the hilt pointed toward Su Hongzhen.
“Kill him.” Zhou Jinyun lifted her head slightly and whispered to Su Hongzhen. A few strands of hair blew in the wind; her profile was sharply clear under the sunlight.