Ze Tian Ji

Edited by: Michyrr

A sword glow emerged, but compared to the boundless light surging over from the fog of snow on the other side, it was fairly dim, completely unworthy of mentioning. The trajectory the sword drew through the misty rain and the position it descended towards were both ordinary and uninteresting. Anyone could see that it was a very normal sword technique. Yet just as the sword struck, the misty rain and foggy snow falling from the sky ceased. Even the boundless light brought along by the temple sword began to fall away, ceasing to be as it approached the Stainless Sword!

The Sword of Great Light had not arrived, but what it carried along through the mists was sword intent, incorporeal and formless. Yet Chen Changsheng had seen through the intention of the temple sword that was hidden behind the Sword of Great Light, because he used the Intellectual Sword. He had used an entire seven days to wash clean his insight, as he wanted to see what was true.

To be able to guess at the sword intents hidden within the mists and to be able to see the truth that was yet to be did not make it easy to break. How did he do it? The seemingly casual stab of the Stainless Sword, that incredibly ordinary sword technique—both were especially appropriate for the situation. It was just like he was painting birds and flowers in the gongbi style. His final stroke seemed casual and uninterested, a twisted and strengthless ink line, yet if one looked at it from just a little farther away, one could see that it was a plum branch.

A casual dot of ink could also be the dot of an eye. An ordinary brushstroke could at times bring an entire painting to life.

The problem was, in order to apply the dot of ink and draw the brushstroke at the appropriate moment, in the appropriate situation, countless hours of practice and comprehension were required. Only this way could one know where the stroke should fall and what sort of brush style should be used.

What sort of brush style was this? What sort of sword technique was this?

From one of the floors below the main deck of the great ship, a rather unsure voice said, "The Plum Hut Short Sword?"

The speaker was a lecturer of the Temple Seminary. With his status, it was naturally impossible for him to stand at the bow of the ship, but separated by a bit more than a li of distance, he still managed with great difficulty to clearly make out the attack Chen Changsheng had made through the misty rain. He found the technique Chen Changsheng used to be very familiar. He was deeply shocked and inadvertently spoke.

Many people heard his comment and, upon recalling the scene, realized that Chen Changsheng really had used the Temple Seminary’s extremely obscure Plum Hut Short Sword. For a moment, no one could muster words to speak. The fact that Chen Changsheng’s path of the sword had dabbled in almost everything had long made them numb from shock, but they had simply not imagined that he would actually dare to use such an ordinary style to break Xu Yourong’s Sword of Great Light. And it actually seemed like he had succeeded?

Had he really succeeded? No, it had just begun.

How could one of the world’s Five Grand Masterstrokes be so easy to break? Just as Chen Changsheng’s attack was breaking through the mist, just as he was displaying his abilities for the first time, the light in the snow that had retreated a little suddenly flourished once more. Transforming into countless sword slashes, carrying along the snow and rain, it chopped at Chen Changsheng once more.

The light was still in the snow, Xu Yourong was still on the other end of the bridge, and those countless sword techniques were still flying over in a disorderly manner. Those sword techniques were still concealed and unreleased. Only by seeing the tracks they left through the fog of snow could one sense how incredibly exquisite they were, what boundless might they contained.

This was the most inconceivable aspect of the Sword of Great Light. The light traveled between heaven and earth and was able to imitate all things, all swords. Even if Chen Changsheng’s cultivation on the path of the sword had reached even greater heights, what could he possibly do against this masterstroke of the path of the sword which formed an ever-changing tapestry resembling blossoms of snow?

Xu Yourong’s attack did not pause in the slightest. Simultaneous with the cry of the lecturer from the Temple Seminary, the temple sword cleaved through the snow. It was still ten-odd zhang from Chen Changsheng, but the sword energy of the Great Light had already crossed the stone bridge and reached him.

Unlike those past matches before the gate of the Orthodox Academy, Chen Changsheng did not use the Yeshi Step and attempt to escape his opponent’s sword energy or attack. This was because after his battle with Nanke, he was keenly aware that attempting to compete in speed with the Heavenly Phoenix was an incredibly foolish choice.

Moreover, since he had drawn a path through the snowy bridge and Xu Yourong had taken this path, how could he retreat? His eyes were calm and focused. Gazing at the wall of light coming towards him, without hesitation, he gripped his sword with both hands, brought it up and then down, slashing at the most concentrated point of the light!

From the ship came Tang Thirty-Six’s cheer, "Toppling Mountain Staff! Break!"

Xu Yourong’s temple sword had not truly descended. What was breaking through the fog of snow was sword intent.

Similarly, Chen Changsheng, using the Orthodox Academy’s Toppling Mountain Staff as a sword, could not really break the Sword of Great Light.

The light within the snow had already transformed into three sword intents, and Chen Changsheng had responded with three sword techniques.

All of this occurred in an exceptionally brief span of time.

Sword glows illuminated the Bridge of Helplessness that was engulfed in rain and snow, then never dispersed, one sword glow following after another.

The air above the Luo River seemed to have become a midsummer thunderstorm, with lightning flashing from time to time.

However, the clouds formed from the fog of snow were still powerful and violent. Undispersed by the lightning, they continued to move to the other side of the bridge.

Neither the people on the ship nor the common folk on the two banks of the river could make out any of the details on the Bridge of Helplessness, such as the fluttering sleeves and white gauze. They could only faintly make out through the mists and fog the figures of Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong.

The divine Qi released by Xu Yourong’s ambling figure was getting thicker and thicker, the pressure of the light getting stronger and stronger. She seemed just like one of the divine sculptures of the Li Palace. On the other hand, Chen Changsheng was still standing at his original position, still just as before. He was calm and quiet as a stone. No matter how furiously the water flowed, it could not change the shape of the rock or move its heart.

One was moving, one was still.

The heart was still, the sword moved.

The Stainless Sword was like a lightning bolt while the temple sword was like a shining sun. However, in the misty rain and foggy snow, they seemed more like two boats in the dusk, traveling the ocean, facing the wind and braving the waves, gradually getting closer to each other. Ultimately, at some point, they would meet.

At this moment, Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong’s swords had not met, but their sword intents had clashed countless times.

Countless clangs rang out over the Luo River, followed soon after by the crumbling sound of swords cutting through all firm objects.

This Bridge of Helplessness, which with the protection of a powerful array could not even be smashed apart by a warship, seemed quite fragile in the face of the ocean of light and enormous waves stirred up by these two swords. Countless cracks appeared on the firm surface of the bridge, the fragments of rock sent flying instantly being crushed by the sword energy. The two handrails lining the bridge were covered in a dense spiderweb of cracks. Those sculptures in the shape of beasts that had quietly watched the Luo River for many years suffered even more damage from the haphazardly flying sword intent. Stone chips were sent flying, leaving behind mutilated ears and shattered faces.

The people on the two banks of the Luo River were somewhat far and couldn’t see clearly what was occurring on the bridge. They could only see the rays of light in the falling snow and hear those sounds. Despite this, they still felt agitated and uneasy. The people on the boat were closer, and were thus more prone to cry in amazement at the exquisite swordplay displayed in the rain and snow.

"That’s the Heavenly Pool Sword Style!"

"The Three Chants of the Fisherman’s Song!"

"How does he know the sword style of the Emotion-Severing Sect?"

All these excited yells came from below. Those standing at the bow of the ship watched the Bridge of Helplessness in silence.

Yes, there truly was no sword style in this world that could completely break the Sword of Great Light, because this sword technique of Holy Maiden Peak was truly too inconceivable. When the light first appeared in the fog of snow and Chen Changsheng recalled the records in the Daoist Canon, he had a similar feeling. He had never seen such a sword technique that was so complex as to embrace almost all things and yet so simple as to already be in accord with the Heavenly Dao. He hadn’t even imagined such a technique before. The Sword of Great Light was already the final frontier of the path of the sword. In his life of cultivation, the only time he had a similar feeling was when he saw Su Li cut a path south with the Heaven Shrouding Sword in the snowy plains of the demon realm.

With his current level of cultivation, he had two methods of breaking the Sword of Great Light. These were to use the final move of the Mount Li Sword Style or, as he had done in the Garden of Zhou and in Xunyang City when confronting Zhu Luo, to use the ten thousand swords of the Sword Pool resting in the Vault Sheath. However, the former could only end in the both of them dying, so it was not an option. Regarding the latter, it was impossible for him to control the consequences of the ten thousand swords simultaneously attacking. This required more time to calculate than was possible in seven days. As a result, this choice was also out of the question.

Ultimately, the method he used was the third sword that Su Li had taught him, the sword that Su Li could never learn. But this time, he used the sword intent, not the sword itself. He also did not use the sword to defend himself, only using the stupidity of the sword, because regardless of what angle one looked at it from, this method was very stupid.

He would use countless swords to break Xu Yourong’s one sword.

The light shone over the mortal world, able to imitate every sword intent between heaven and earth.

Then he would just display every sword technique between heaven and earth.

This method was very stupid, but could someone who could learn all these swords, know when to use these swords, where to use these swords, and thus, in the face of this light, break the shapeless shapes and intentionless intent, truly be a stupid person?

The students and teachers standing on the lower decks of the great ship could not understand this, but those important figures at the bow of the ship clearly understood this point.

So when they stared at those sword intents above the snowy bridge that crisscrossed the sky, they remained silent for a very long time.

The Minister of Rites was not a cultivator, and couldn’t restrain his question, "How many swords?"

Linghai Zhiwang expressionlessly replied, "Principal Chen has used forty-three sword techniques."

With a complex expression, Daoist Siyuan declared, "He hasn’t even completed one sword technique."

Both of these Prefects of the Orthodoxy had spoken correctly, and it wasn’t because one was speaking of Chen Changsheng and the other of Xu Yourong.

Xu Yourong’s Sword of Great Light truly had not been fully displayed.

Of course, Chen Changsheng’s forty-three swords could be understood as a single sword.

The bow of the ship was silent, but in reality, from the very start, someone had always been talking.

When Chen Changsheng used his sixth sword, Su Moyu murmured, "I lost."

When Chen Changsheng used his ninth sword, a Divine General who had returned from Temple Pass to report to the court wrinkled his brow and shook his head.

When Chen Changsheng used his eleventh sword, Xue He’s hand gently caressed his severed arm.

When Chen Changsheng used his twenty-seventh sword, Zhexiu shook his head. If he were to confront Chen Changsheng head-on, he would have lost here. Of course, this was only in swords, not a life-or-death battle. He then glanced at Tang Thirty-Six, rather confused, thinking, could it be that you can last even longer than me?

All this time, Tang Thirty-Six had never said anything about how he had lost, but now he sighed, "Have all of our sword techniques been learned by a dog?"

Many people at the bow of the ship showed ugly complexions, yet no one could refute him.

Everyone knew that Chen Changsheng knew the Daoist Canon from back to front, but could it be that he had also learned all the sword styles of the world?

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