Linghu Chong was naturally carefree and disliked following rules.
However, as the Senior Brother of the Mount Hua Sect, both Yue Buqun and Ning Zhongze were quite strict with him, never easing up on his martial arts training.
He knew that as Senior Brother, he had to set an example for the junior brothers and sisters below him, so he never slacked off in his practice, diligently training with his sword every day and considering himself quite hardworking.
But now it was only the end of the first watch, the east was just a pale blue like an eggshell, and Mount Hua was still shrouded in night.
If it weren’t for Six Monkeys’ snoring last night keeping him awake the entire time, he would still have been asleep for another half hour.
Yet, despite rising early by half an hour, he found himself beaten to it by the Hengshan Sect’s Junior Sister.
No wonder Master always said the Hengshan Sect’s discipline was strict; it truly was admirable.
Suddenly, a competitive spark lit in him. Eager to test himself, he said, “Very well, Linghu Chong wishes to learn the Hengshan Swordplay. Junior Sister, please.”
“Please.”
Both were young and had little experience sparring with disciples from other sects, so they approached with caution.
Chong Lingxiu focused and gathered her energy, channeling force into the tip of her sword without yet striking.
“Junior Sister, be careful.” Linghu Chong knew the Hengshan Swordplay excelled at defense. He warned her, then boldly attacked.
His sword light flashed out like a white rainbow piercing the sun—the “White Rainbow Piercing the Sun,” a Mount Hua Sword technique.
This move’s sword energy was fierce and imposing, yet not too difficult to defend against, making it perfect for a test.
Chong Lingxiu was worthy of her years of hard training. Raising her hand to press down on the sword, she exerted force on the blade, causing it to tremble downward, using the “Bodhi Under the Tree” to counter the momentum of the “White Rainbow Piercing the Sun.”
Linghu Chong was slightly surprised. Mount Hua disciples emphasized controlling the sword with Qi, and only after reaching a certain level of inner energy cultivation could they master the techniques.
“White Rainbow Piercing the Sun” especially required the sword’s edge to be infused with true Qi; while it appeared blockable, the weapon would shake under the inner force, causing one to lose grip.
Yet this young Hengshan Junior Sister had some inner energy foundation despite her youth. Not only was her sword not dislodged, but her inner strength even clashed briefly with his.
The blades trembled, and both felt the pain of each other’s inner energy vibrating through their palms, each stepping back half a pace to release the force.
With his dantian energy flowing, Linghu Chong no longer restrained himself and directly executed his proud move, “Phoenix Soars with Grace.”
The essence of this technique lay in the phoenix’s graceful, fluttering dance—a skillful and intricate sequence he had spent much time mastering, confident in its power.
A sword light swept down before Chong Lingxiu’s eyes and arrived in an instant.
She countered with a backward flick, forming a “Flower in Hand Smile” defense. The clashing blades rang out crisply.
Mount Hua Swordplay didn’t have many techniques but thrived on variations.
Especially with “Phoenix Soars with Grace,” the latter moves were numerous and complex.
Linghu Chong’s sword tip was swept aside; he flicked his wrist slightly, and the blade soared like a flying bird, riding the energy current, arcing back to stab straight toward the vital point on her chest.
This was the first time Chong Lingxiu had encountered such a change in technique.
Instinctively, she took a sideways step, twisting her body aside, while sinking her forearm with inner strength to press on his blade, borrowing force to retract the sword, linking into “Introspection,” once again guarding the vital spot.
Linghu Chong remained calm. The variations of “Phoenix Soars with Grace” were not yet over.
His sword tip slanted upward beneath her ribs.
If she dodged, her defense would be compromised; if not, her left arm would be injured—a cunning and difficult choice.
Chong Lingxiu also saw the danger.
While piercing forward, she circled her steps, trying to exit the range of this variation.
However, Linghu Chong had anticipated this.
Advancing two steps, he lifted and swiped, the blade scraping past her head, nearly catching her other side of the neck.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
The brilliance of “Phoenix Soars with Grace” was not in the opening but in the endless subsequent changes, leaving the opponent defenseless.
“Clang.”
Two sword edges met beside Chong Lingxiu’s neck, scraping out a sharp, grating sound.
As Linghu Chong’s blade swept past, she flipped her wrist and backhanded the sword in a flower pattern to block the attack.
This was the most difficult move to master in Hengshan Swordplay—“Diligent Dusting of the Mirror Stand.”
It was all backhand sword flowers; the body followed the sword’s motion, the sword followed the heart’s intent, guarding many blind spots in defense.
Because the sword was behind, one had to rely on hearing and feel; ordinary disciples might take five or six years of practice to master it.
However, Chong Lingxiu was accustomed to Rain Training.
Even drenched in heavy rain, she could keep her back dry, a sign of her skill.
She had just cracked Linghu Chong’s still-not-fully-refined “Phoenix Soars with Grace.”
He sheathed his sword and stepped back, sincerely saying, “No wonder my Master always says the Hengshan Swordplay is best at defense. Junior Sister, well done.”
Huh?
We two novices sparring and you say ‘well done’ on the swordplay?
Chong Lingxiu couldn’t openly retort but kept grumbling in her heart: “Continue?”
“Of course.”
The two resumed their duel.
This time their moves were more standard, exchanging techniques.
Linghu Chong tested the Hengshan Swordplay by deploying Mount Hua techniques—“White Clouds Leaving the Mountain,” “Heavenly Cord Upside Down,” and “Pine Trees Welcoming Guests.”
Chong Lingxiu responded methodically with “Respectfully Presenting the Scripture,” “Flower in Hand Smile,” and “Castle in the Air,” neatly defusing his momentum.
The east gradually brightened.
The sun crept over the hilltop, bathing the land in light.
After about fifteen minutes, both had displayed their sect’s swordplay almost fully, with no victor.
Linghu Chong pondered that since she was a visitor, continuing was pointless.
He then took the initiative to withdraw: “Junior Sister, it’s getting late. Let’s pause here. Allow me to show hospitality and take you to breakfast, shall we?”
“Alright.”
Chong Lingxiu hadn’t sparred for victory or defeat, only to gauge her level.
After their exchange, they were evenly matched; neither swordplay nor inner energy was outstanding.
There was no reason to continue stalemating, so she readily agreed, “Thank you, Senior Brother.”
Linghu Chong smiled, about to speak, then suddenly realized he didn’t even know her Initiate Name: “May I ask Junior Sister’s Initiate Name?”
“Poor nun Yixiu.” Chong Lingxiu maintained the demeanor of a nun outside.
Linghu Chong, ever easygoing, called out, “Junior Sister Yixiu,” then casually asked, “Is Abbess Dingjing your Master?”
Chong Lingxiu shook her head, “My Master has passed away.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
Tree shadows swayed, dappled morning light fell, and cool dew touched their sleeves, revealing the chill of early spring.
Linghu Chong led her along a small path.
In moments, they reached the Kitchen.
Steam billowed fiercely from the steamers, warming his cheeks.
He peeked into the stove room and smiled, “Uncle, do you have any vegetarian buns?”
The burly man at the stove laughed, “Chong’er, what brings you here? I have no wine for you.”
“I’m hosting a guest today, can’t drink, or Master will scold me.”
Linghu Chong deftly lifted the steamer lid, took two vegetarian buns and a plate of rice cake, and handed them to Chong Lingxiu.
“Junior Sister, please enjoy.”
The hot steam mingled with the aromas of roujiamo and knife-cut noodles, invading her nostrils and triggering saliva, yet none would satisfy her appetite.
Chong Lingxiu sighed twice quietly and said thanks, accepting and biting into the bun.
The bun’s dough was soft and elastic, filled with vegetables, bamboo shoots, and mushrooms, tasting fresh and delicious.
She finished in two bites, then tried the rice cake.
The glutinous rice was fragrant and sweet, with a warm aroma of red dates—a delightful taste.
Guests eating heartily pleased the host.
Linghu Chong said, “Junior Sister Yixiu, Shaanxi has many delicious dishes worth trying. You’ve come so far; don’t miss out.”
“I have no money.”
Chong Lingxiu swallowed the last bite of glutinous rice, reluctant to stop, “Maybe next time.”
Linghu Chong chuckled, “I’m broke too, but I can still afford two bowls of noodles. Come, I’ll treat you to noodles at the foot of the mountain.”
“Good.”
Chong Lingxiu agreed immediately, “We can race in lightness skills and see who reaches the foot of the mountain first.”
“Good idea.”
Mount Hua had many disciples, but Lao Denuo was older and hard to talk to; Lu Dayou was mediocre in martial arts and only good for jokes.
Little Junior Sister Yue Lingshan was only eleven, just beginning swordplay with Shimu, so Linghu Chong had yet to find a worthy sparring partner.
Her suggestion piqued his interest.
“A race should have stakes. How about this: if you win, I’ll treat you to Oily Noodles and Thousand Layer Pastry.
If you lose, you watch me eat Lamb Stew Bread. How’s that?”
Chong Lingxiu thought, if you hadn’t mentioned pastry, I wouldn’t care about winning, but now that you have, I have to win.
“Agreed.”
“Shall we leave now, or will you go get money?”
Linghu Chong laughed heartily, “Of course now—going back to get money.”
He patted his purse.
“There’s only enough for three coins for wine here.”
“In that case, see you at the Order Hall in fifteen minutes.”
Chong Lingxiu agreed on the time, then returned to the Guest Courtyard to change.
Her black robe was made double-sided—outer layer was a black monk’s robe, inner layer patched from various fabrics into a Drizzle Clothes.
Monks and nuns could wear it, but ordinary people could as well, just by switching sides.
She removed the Monk Hat, tied her mid-length hair into a bun, wrapped a Hair Wrap around it, transforming into an ordinary jianghu woman.
Yiqing’s wooden fish knocking paused slightly as she asked, “Where are you going?”
“I’m meeting Senior Brother Linghu for a sparring match.”
Chong Lingxiu explained, “If I win, he’ll treat me lunch. I want to eat meat but worry about gossip, so I’m changing first.”
Yiqing opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, then fulfilled her Master Sister duties by cautioning, “Be careful.”
“Yes.”
Chong Lingxiu patted the purse at her waist.
It was made by Yizhen, palm-sized with compartments just right for two small bottles of medicine.
“I brought Tianxiang Bone-Healing Paste.”
Yiqing: “…”
She closed her eyes and resumed knocking the wooden fish, chanting.
Chong Lingxiu stepped out quietly, heading toward the Order Hall to meet Linghu Chong.
“Junior Sister, I’m here.”
His voice came faintly, brushing past her ear, “Let’s go.”
Before finishing, he dashed toward the stone steps, playing a quick-start trick, raising an eyebrow triumphantly.
“All’s fair in war.”
Chong Lingxiu wasn’t angry and immediately leapt after him.
The stone steps wound and twisted, easy to walk but indirect.
She sprang down two steps, then leapt onto a nearby treetop, weaving through leaves and jumping to another branch, quickly catching up to Linghu Chong’s pace.
He was startled, activated his inner energy, and dashed forward like a startled rabbit.
“Watch out.”
Chong Lingxiu broke off a leaf, clasped it between her fingers, and sent it flying.
Linghu Chong, lacking her nimble experience of jumping trees to catch sparrows, failed to dodge in time.
His shoulder was slightly stung, and she actually tore his clothes with the flying leaf.
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