At the peak of the moon, the noodles and steamed buns in Zhong Lingxiu’s stomach had been completely digested.
She reluctantly stopped her training, then took advantage of the night to slip to the kitchen, hoping to find some leftover steamed buns or snacks to quickly fill her stomach.
But as soon as she pushed the door open, a whisper came from the treetops: “Junior Sister Yixiu.”
Looking up, she saw Linghu Chong hiding among the sparse leaves, sneakily waving at her. She leapt up the tree, curious, and asked, “What are you doing here?”
Linghu Chong sized her up under the moonlight for a moment before smiling, “You didn’t come out for dinner; I was worried that Senior Sister Dingjing had locked you up.”
“I always lose track of time practicing,” Zhong Lingxiu explained, “The senior sisters are used to it, so they don’t usually call me. You came just in time—do you have any steamed buns or snacks? I’m starving.”
He laughed heartily, then suddenly realized they were too close to the guest quarters. If Senior Sister Dingjing overheard, it wouldn’t be good, so he quickly lowered his voice: “Look at this.” He extended his palm, holding up a piece of plain cloth, unraveling one corner to reveal a faint aroma of red bean paste—it was still warm zenggao (steamed rice cake).
“Ah.” Zhong Lingxiu felt like she had found sweet rain, quickly taking it and stuffing it into her mouth. “Thanks, you’re really a stand-up guy.”
Linghu Chong wiped his nose and smiled faintly, “As a host, I can’t just let my guests go hungry.”
Zhong Lingxiu smiled, nibbling down the zenggao in no time. Her stomach felt satisfied, but her mouth found it sticky, and she frowned slightly.
Seeing no movement in the house, Linghu Chong relaxed and asked normally, “Want some wine?”
“Wine?” The mystery was solved—he’d snuck some wine for himself and brought snacks for his little friend. No problem, she nodded, “Sure.”
The zenggao had cooled and was a bit dry.
Linghu Chong tossed her a wine jar, its sealing wax removed. The faint scent of rice lees drifted up, and the liquid inside was cloudy.
“Rice wine.” She held the jar up, confirming the kind, then cautiously took a sip. It was sweet with a hint of sourness—not very pleasant, but enough to quench thirst. She gulped down several large mouthfuls, wiped her mouth, and said, “Thanks. When I have money, I’ll definitely treat you to wine.”
Linghu Chong feigned anger, “Say that again—is that because you look down on me?”
Three black lines appeared on Zhong Lingxiu’s forehead.
Sometimes, the so-called chivalrous spirit of the martial world was truly bizarre. She couldn’t understand their way of thinking.
“I’m meeting friends for wine. Why would that mean I look down on you?” She shook her head, “You’re really strange.”
Linghu Chong choked on his words but quickly begged for mercy, “My bad, my bad, forgive me! I’ll punish myself with three cups.” He grabbed the jar and finished half of it with loud gulps. The wine soaked his collar, and he instantly felt refreshed.
The moonlight stretched across the sky, bathing the dwelling.
Zhong Lingxiu blew on the cool night breeze and gazed at the bright moon in a daze. After a moment, she wondered: if one day she truly shattered the void and left, would she be able to go home? Then she thought, what use would it be? She was already dead, and her parents and friends had prepared themselves; there was no need for excessive attachment.
People still needed to look forward, to move ahead. Besides, martial arts were truly interesting.
So she returned to her practice, unable to help but say, “Senior Brother Linghu.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t you think that after all this time practicing swordsmanship, even though there are many refined techniques yet to learn, it’s ultimately no different from before?” She inquired, “If you learn third-rate sword techniques, you have third-rate martial skills. If you learn first-rate techniques, you have first-rate skills. The level of mastery depends on the techniques themselves, and there’s always a lack of something enlightened?”
Linghu Chong was stunned, momentarily doubting his ears.
Was the moon ugly tonight? Or was the wine bad? What was she talking about?
“I know the Hengshan sword techniques are good because their defensive moves cover most counters. Your Huashan sword techniques are good because of their complexity and infinite subtlety. Combined with our respective internal energy practices, each complements the other, with their own merits.” Zhong Lingxiu murmured to herself, “Of course, someone with abundant internal power but no forms can still injure with subtle moves, and someone with brilliant sword techniques but no internal power can rely on exploiting openings. Each has its own strength.”
Linghu Chong hadn’t read many books, but Yue Buqun once said that Huashan controls the sword with Qi, so he corrected, “Qi is the master, the sword is the servant. Qi is the main thread, the sword is the detail. What use is brilliant swordsmanship without internal energy practice?”
Zhong Lingxiu glanced at him.
He looked completely baffled. “What? Am I wrong?”
“I don’t know why some people don’t cultivate internal power yet can kill with sword techniques alone. I only know it really happens.” She spoke plainly. “Perhaps, no matter how refined swordsmanship is, there’s always a flaw. Only those who know how to find that flaw are true experts.”
She had been in the martial world for only fifteen years—an utter novice. Her understanding of “martial arts” was like a grade school student doing math, relying entirely on book knowledge and wild guesses. Of course, this was a world of fiction, and so the so-called secrets had their reasons, but theory on paper was theory. Practically, it was all confusion, impossible to understand or grasp.
“What do you think?”
“Uh.” Linghu Chong was tongue-tied, unable to answer.
By his understanding, to improve in martial arts, one simply practiced the sword method step by step. Once the foundation was solid, the master would pass on the Purple Mist Divine Skill, which, combined with the various exquisite Huashan sword techniques, would surely produce a master.
He had never considered the bottleneck Zhong Lingxiu mentioned. Her insights made sweat break out on his forehead, leaving him at a loss for words.
“What does Senior Sister Dingjing say?” he finally thought of a fitting reply.
Zhong Lingxiu said, “Oh, I haven’t asked yet. I haven’t figured it out, so I don’t want to bother her.” Seeing Linghu Chong’s awkwardness, she added, “I’m just speaking off the cuff. Senior Brother Linghu, don’t take it to heart. Anyway, just keep practicing step by step.”
That was her honest feeling.
Though there were still many things she didn’t understand, with her cheat item in hand, things would work out in the end—no need to torment herself.
“All right, I should sleep now. I have to get up early to train tomorrow.” She jumped down from the tree. “We’ll spar again tomorrow.”
Linghu Chong was embarrassed and hurriedly said, “Tomorrow, yes, tomorrow.”
The next day.
Zhong Lingxiu once again woke early, boiled water, washed up, and left hot water for Senior Sister Dingjing and the other senior sisters before heading out to train.
Linghu Chong arrived not too late, carrying his sword and sighing with reluctance. Yet for some reason, he still obediently sparred with her for over a hundred moves. Both learned more about each other’s sect techniques.
As daylight broke, other Huashan disciples came one after another to practice. Zhong Lingxiu, unwilling to eavesdrop on their senior brothers’ sword technique lessons, tactfully avoided the crowd and headed to the back mountain.
Linghu Chong said there was a magnificent waterfall there where he often trained and always gained something. After finding out the location, she sought out the cascading White Water Waterfall. Even before approaching, the roaring sound of the water was overwhelming, thunderous in her ears, her heart pounding like a drum.
What a great place.
Hengshan was famed for its beauty, but its waterfalls couldn’t compare to Huashan’s grandeur. Training here felt like challenging a miracle of nature, making her feel incredibly small.
“The world is like a cage. Maybe only martial arts can break free.” Zhong Lingxiu muttered, exhaling and rubbing her hands warm. She drew her sword and leapt onto the mossy stones by the waterfall, performing a set of the Ten Thousand Flowers Sword Technique. The swordlight scattered like apricot blossoms—graceful and exquisite.
After the twelve flower moves, she smoothly transitioned into the dense Hengshan sword techniques, striving to sweep her entire body with a cold blade, refusing to let even a splash of water touch her. Occasionally, a move was so exquisite the sword’s edge split a crystal-clear drop of water in two, the twin droplets rolling down the blade without leaving a single trace.
Unfortunately, the flawless moves were occasional strokes of luck. When she tried to replicate them, the more she danced, the less effective her form became, making careless mistakes—an absolute disaster.
“Ahhh.” She clutched her head, banging it furiously. “Can’t force it! Can’t force it! Can’t force it! Forget it, forget it, forget it!”
The harder she tried to forget, the more she couldn’t. After meditating for a while, unable to dispel the inner demons, she reluctantly returned to the main peak, planning to find something else to do. Judging the time, disciples from the other Five Mountain Sword Sects should be arriving. Just relying on Huashan and Qingcheng’s martial arts wouldn’t be enough; Hengshan, Taishan, and Songshan sects would have to send representatives. As for Wudang and Emei, she wasn’t sure if they would come, but probably yes—after all, Yue Buqun carried the reputation of the “Gentleman Sword,” and his social standing was still decent.
Her guess was right. No sooner had she returned to Jade Maiden Peak than news arrived that the Emei and Wudang disciples had arrived together.
Linghu Chong saw her from inside the house, slipped behind Lu Dayou, and quietly came out to introduce her: the middle-aged man on the right was a Wudang disciple who later married and left the secular world, with a daughter among the female disciples she had met the day before. The woman on the left was an Emei heroine and a close friend of Ning Zhongze in her youth.
These two sat at the head of the gathering, clearly of high status. Below them were numerous guests, all heroes from the Shaanxi region, each bringing generous gifts.
Zhong Lingxiu looked at their manner—somewhat like Lin Pingzhi’s father giving gifts to curry favor.
Indeed, the martial world wasn’t only about fighting and killing.
But without fighting and killing, what use was all the social niceties?
She shook her head, uninterested in joining the festivities, and turned back to her training.
Over the following days, Huashan became more and more lively each day. Hengshan’s Liu Zhengfeng arrived the latest, but he brought a treasured sword as a gift. He said he had taken a detour to retrieve the sword, which caused the delay but gave Yue Buqun face. Others respectfully called him “Third Lord Liu,” and their words were full of respect and flattery. No wonder everyone said Hengshan’s sect leader Mo Da wasn’t involved in sect affairs, and that the second-in-command Liu Zhengfeng had more influence.
What caught Zhong Lingxiu’s attention was a faint golden light intermittently flickering around Liu Zhengfeng.
The glow was as thin as cicada wings. If she hadn’t seen him enter the night with her own eyes, his silhouette swallowed by darkness but outlined in golden light, she would never have noticed it.
She feared she was mistaken, so observed him for two more days, confirming her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
Liu Zhengfeng truly had a layer of signaling golden light, flickering on and off—its signal was not very stable.
If white light represented a target, red light meant a guaranteed kill, then what did golden light mean? Treasure? That made sense. Liu Zhengfeng didn’t have the Sunflower Manual nor the Evil-Repelling Sword Technique, but he did have the “Song of the Smiling Proud Wanderer.”
Did she want to obtain the Song of the Smiling Proud Wanderer, or learn it?
Damn it. If she was to learn it, did she have to add a music class too?