Ming Feizhen had no time to think. He relaxed his body, focusing his energy to his right leg. Replaying his matches against Zhuo Feng, he let his body do what it needed to do, taking seven steps to escape. Only once he regained conscious control over his body did he realise that he escaped a permanent date with death.
Snap! The sound of a physical entity followed from the direction of the black sword’s path. In Ming Huayu’s words, the miraculous phenomenon of the night-sky splitting was a result of light and oxygen losing the capacity to sustain their forms.
“The fact that you avoided the technique is evidence that you’re superior to Zhuo Fengru. Despite his qinggong proficiency, he has no answer for the technique.”
“A sword forged from black aurum and swordplay that can split the atmosphere, you’re either a very pitiable guy or some filthy-rich kid. The last possibility is that, like me, you’re a prodigy,” Ming Feizhen lamented.
“Your clumsy reactions give away the fact that you’re not trained to wield a broadsword. That toy is a burden to you. Your boxing is unquestionably better.”
“Hehe… Hehe… On the topic of weapons, I started learning to wield them at three and have mastered hundreds of taolus now, but I don’t remember a single one. According to my shifu and grandmaster’s diagnosis, the condition I suffer from is, ‘Incorrigible. Scram.’ One of my friends is called the best swordplay prodigy in the last century. They call him a treasure from the heavens. In the one month of training he provided me in swordplay, he almost gutted me out of anger.”
“We still fighting?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Ming Feizhen assumed a broadswordplay stance again with the tree branch.
“That is…”
“This is the only broadsword technique in my repertoire. If I fail to kill you with this, I’ll have to admit defeat.” Ming Feizhen lowered his branch as though he was preparing for a draw from his waist, erasing his emotions from his face at the same time.
Leng Jingliu recalled that the majority of people he grew up along wore the same expression. They might walk with a bounce in their gait, but they’d appear devoid of emotion once their sword was in hand because, in those moments, the only thing on their mind was a craving for combat.
Leng Jingliu: Is thrusting through the Great Wall the only option?
When face to face with such a strong foe, the only thing one can do was surpass their current level. Owing to the mentality, Leng Jingliu’s swordplay focused purely on advance. If there was a mountain, he’d cut it down. If the Great Wall stood before him, he’d crush the wall to move forward.
Leng Jingliu lowered his sword tip to the ground, but his confidence waned, much to his confusion and disbelief.
Ming Feizhen continued to build up more and more energy.
Leng Jingliu: Hmm?
Ming Feizhen inhaled. “You’re the first person to force me to go all out ever since leaving the mountain.”
Leng Jingliu: Hmm?
“I believed there weren’t many people who could push me to use Eight Mountains and Eight Oceans, so I sealed it on my own accord. You’re tough.”
Hmm? Aren’t we competing in martial arts as practitioners in the same age bracket?
“Branch Cleaves Death Omen. You Slash the Night… I Slash You.” Once the last leaf on the branch fell, Ming Feizhen let it rip. “Flash!”
***
All foliage that Ming Feizhen’s broadsword swung past ceased to exist. The ground resembled the aftermath of a titan invasion.
“Excellent technique,” Leng Jingliu praised.
Still standing in his finishing pose, Ming Feizhen responded, “… How are you still standing?!”
Leng Jingliu titled his head. “It was too lethal. I couldn’t block. Of course I’d dodge.” Post-answer, he gasped a mouthful of blood. “… Unfortunately, I couldn’t evade it entirely.”
“You sure are honest. You didn’t even attempt to answer it.”
Ming Feizhen had no idea he was the first person to ever make Leng Jingliu retreat in a fight. Having to force himself to change his mind and disengage was a mental blow to Leng Jingliu.
Leng Jingliu bound twenty-five metres back.
“Oi, are you running now?”
“Your assistant has arrived; it’s time for me to leave.”
Ming Feizhen confirmed Zhuo Fengru had arrived with his ears, then asked, “And that’s why you’re off? Two on one is where the real challenge is, isn’t it?”
“I’m not your match. What’s there to compete over?”
“All right, admit defeat, then.”
“… Don’t twist the facts, you shameless-gang-up-advocating punk.”
“That’s not what you said before! Admit you lost!”
“Not being able to beat you doesn’t mean I lost.” Leng Jingliu walked off.
“Hey, what was your name again?”
Leng Jingliu stopped in his tracks to answer, “Passerby B,” then left.
Cupping his mouth with his hands, Ming Feizhen yelled, “I’m Ming Feizhen. Laters, Leng Baozi.”
Leng Jingliu’s qinggong should’ve muted his footsteps, but they could hear him stomping off.
“Sheesh, he sure runs fast. Don’t think I can catch him.”
Zhuo Fengru checked on Ming Feizhen once he ensured his family was safe. “He’s a swordsman Lord Miguo recruited. This old one lost to him in one exchange when we fought. You two will inevitably be competitors in the pugilistic world.”
Ming Feizhen kept peering in the direction that Leng Jingliu went.
“This incident proves that, even if this old one goes into hiding, Lord Miguo won’t spare his family. This old one shall travel to Shennong with you.”
Hua Qing beamed. “We will have much better chances with Hero Zhuo accompanying us.”
Ming Feizhen grinned. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Where to?”
“Didn’t you just mention it?”
“Isn’t it in ten days’ time? … Wait, what are you thinking?”
“What do you think?”
Glossary
Leng Baozi – Literally, cold meat bun. Ming Feizhen is taking a jab at Leng Jingliu’s cold personality.
