Chapter Eighty-Nine: A Familiar Trap, Yet Another Scheme

Whenever Yue Buqun moved with that ghostlike lightness skill, Feng Qingyang found himself unable to guard against him. It was clearly not a martial art of Mount Hua. By instinct, Feng Qingyang could only think of Dongfang Bubai, and so concluded that Yue Buqun had trained in the Sunflower Warding Sword Manual.

As he spoke, Feng Qingyang’s gaze kept drifting, deliberately or not, toward the space between Yue Buqun’s legs.

“The Immortal Master was right: never reason with an idiot, because he will drag your intelligence down to his level and then defeat you with his abundant experience... But with the disciples of Mount Hua all present, how can I allow you to fling mud at me as you please? I must, at the very least, offer a few words in my own defense!”

“Do not mistake ignorance for individuality. The Sunflower Warding Sword Manual may be a priceless treasure in your eyes, but to me it is not worth a single coin. Shan’er, Laudeno, tell your grand martial uncle Feng what martial arts I have been using.”

“Father’s movement art was the Wind God’s Legs. He used three forms of it: Chasing the Wind and Seizing the Shadow, Sturdy Grass in the Wind, and Tempestuous Storm. Father, was I right?”

“Master, though this disciple has never cultivated the Cloud-Dispelling Palm, I can still tell that you used two moves from it: Flowing Waters and Drifting Clouds, and Overturning Clouds and Rain.”

“Shan’er is quite right, and Deno has keen eyes. Though you cannot cultivate the Cloud-Dispelling Palm, Chasing the Wind and Seizing the Shadow from the Wind God’s Legs is something you must learn. Not just the two of them, all of you must practice this form, and practice it to perfection. Once you have mastered it, even if you cannot defeat your enemy, you can still outrun him. Then you will stand beyond defeat. Do you understand?” Yue Buqun did not regard Feng Qingyang in the least; he had actually begun teaching on the spot.

“Yes, Master!” Liang Fa and the others answered in unison, joy lighting their faces. Such peerless divine arts, with wind and cloud surging and heaven and earth changing color, were things they had never even heard of before. Now that they could learn them, how could they not be delighted?

“Cloud-Dispelling Palm, Wind God’s Legs—truly remarkable arts. But those alone are not enough to take the Dugu Nine Swords from me.” Feng Qingyang held his sword in his right hand, its tip lowered and slanting toward the ground, every inch the lonely master who held the world in one blade.

“I will make you yield with full conviction.” The more Yue Buqun fought, the more confident he became. “Worthy son-in-law, lend me your blade.”

Lin Pingzhi immediately removed his Blood-Drinking Ice Saber and handed it to Yue Buqun. Since Lin Pingzhi was cultivating the Six Arts of Proud Cold, how could he possibly lack the Blood-Drinking Ice Saber? Yang Xin had simply drawn forth this coldest thing under heaven from the treasure-bestowing system.

“A fine blade!” Yue Buqun gave the saber a light swing and praised it. Then he said, “Watch carefully, worthy son-in-law, and see how your father-in-law uses the Six Arts of Proud Cold.”

“The Six Arts of Proud Cold—what a tyrannical name.” Feng Qingyang’s heart tightened, and he said coldly, “The dignified head of the Mount Hua Sword School abandoning the sword for the saber—how will you, Yue Buqun, ever face the ancestors of Mount Hua?”

“Ignorant fool. All my life, why should I explain myself to others? Still, there is no harm in telling you. Mount Hua has never been merely a sword school. In the past it was the Mount Hua Sect; now it is the Mount Hua Immortal Gate. Enough nonsense. Take this!”

“A Startled Glance of Cold!”

A blade of utter frost and utter domination, direct and absolute.

Yue Buqun rose on the Wind God’s Legs and employed Chasing the Wind and Seizing the Shadow. He leapt into the air, looking down from above, and chopped with all his strength, without the slightest hesitation, overbearing beyond compare.

Though the striking range of the Blood-Drinking Ice Saber in Yue Buqun’s hand was but a single point, the saber aura had already sealed off every avenue of retreat for Feng Qingyang. Whether he wished to receive it or not, receive it he must.

“Saber aura!” Feng Qingyang’s face changed drastically. He had thought that with a sword in hand, the world was his, yet he had never imagined Yue Buqun’s martial arts had already reached such a level. That saber radiance, three or four meters long, already surpassed him by far, faintly carrying the air of those martial myths from the great flourishing age of the martial world centuries ago.

“Breaking Aura Stance!” Feng Qingyang narrowed his eyes and instantly found three weak points in the saber radiance. His long sword flashed out, stabbing repeatedly at those flaws. One point, then another. At last he twisted the circular sweep of his sword, borrowing the force from the first two weak points of the saber radiance to strike the last. The movement of his sword faintly carried the flavor of Taiji, of using an opponent’s strength against him.

The saber radiance was broken, but the Blood-Drinking Ice Saber itself came slashing in.

Though Feng Qingyang had shattered the saber aura, he could not shatter the blade that followed.

Yue Buqun’s move, A Startled Glance of Cold, was too simple, too direct, and too swift. After exhausting himself to break the saber radiance in such haste, Feng Qingyang had no time at all to execute the Saber-Breaking Stance. The only way left to resolve Yue Buqun’s attack was to meet it head-on.

Sword tip against saber edge.

Feng Qingyang felt a tremendous force crash upon him. The refined steel sword in his hand was cleaved neatly in two by the Blood-Drinking Ice Saber, and the force of the saber did not diminish as it drove straight toward his body. Left with no choice, Feng Qingyang cast away the broken sword. Even so, he was forced back again and again by that immense power, retreating a full seven steps.

The sword in Feng Qingyang’s hand had already been shattered. Knowing full well that barehanded he was no match for Yue Buqun, and seeing that he had been driven back to Liang Fa’s side, he no longer cared about propriety. He lifted a hand and drew; Liang Fa’s sword flew straight into his grasp. Once more with a sword in hand, Feng Qingyang swept it across his body and assumed a defensive posture, guarding against any attempt by Yue Buqun to press his advantage.

Yet to his surprise, Yue Buqun did not attack at all. He merely flicked the Blood-Drinking Ice Saber lightly, sending it with perfect accuracy into Lin Pingzhi’s sheath, not the slightest bit off, and then began instructing on the spot. “Worthy son-in-law, this is A Startled Glance of Cold from the Six Arts of Proud Cold: absolute frost, absolute domination, a single direct stroke. Do not think of all sorts of messy complications, and do not think in terms of breaking or dismantling moves. Remember this: when true masters clash, life and death are decided in an instant. Raise your hand and strike with one blade. It must be fast—fast enough.”

“A Startled Glance of Cold means hearing thunder in utter silence, seeing a riot of blossoms where no color is found. That is the true essence of A Startled Glance of Cold.” Yue Buqun spoke with easy eloquence, and everyone present was drawn in by his words.

No one but Yang Xin saw the faint trembling of Yue Buqun’s hands. Yang Xin smiled to himself, sensing vaguely the flavor of something called a scheme.

Sure enough, Yue Buqun’s performance that followed confirmed Yang Xin’s suspicion.

“Yue Buqun, what do you mean by this? Are we fighting on or not?” Seeing that Yue Buqun had no further intention of making a move, Feng Qingyang demanded angrily.

“What do I mean? Grand Uncle Feng, do you still insist this is the Sunflower Warding Sword Art? This was a protective art bestowed upon my son-in-law Pingzhi by the Immortal Master in his mercy. The blade is the Blood-Drinking Ice Saber, and the art is the Six Arts of Proud Cold. As the name suggests, it is divided into six forms: A Startled Glance of Cold, Three Feet of Frozen Ice, Red Apricot in the Snow, Peach Branches in Tender Bloom, Treading Snow in Search of Plum Blossoms, and Cold Blade, Icy Heart. Each form is several times stronger than the one before it. Grand Uncle Feng, are you certain this is the occasion to continue?”

Feng Qingyang choked back his words. This indeed was no easy setting in which to continue. With so many disciples watching, victory would be one thing—but if he were to lose... At the thought, the hand with which he held the sword trembled, and once more he sighed inwardly. “My sword heart is still not firm enough.”

What Feng Qingyang could never have imagined was that the crafty old fox Yue Buqun appeared calm as the wind and clear as the clouds on the surface, while in truth he was already at the end of his strength. His inner power had long since been exhausted.