97, The Gap

The outcome was almost beyond doubt, and a handful of Essence-Fixing disciples simply watched while chatting idly.

No sooner had that man spoken than another laughed, “Never mind—do be careful. You’re going to frighten people.”

“Cut it out!” Old Guo shot him a cold look. “You’re blind if you didn’t look closely. As for Junior Sister Cheng, even in robes she carries a grace of her own. At her height, she’d look almost ethereal. And that face—so perfectly formed!”

A crowd of disciples began cheering him on. “Old Guo, you’ve gone so far on lust, you can even get fantasies from looking at a man.”

Another shouted, “You dare say that to Brother Qian Lele? Say it once and I’ll believe you.”

Immediately someone snapped, “Don’t egg Old Guo on, trying to get him beaten by Brother Qian Lele. He may be busy right now; don’t think he can’t hear you.”

As soon as Qian Lele’s name was mentioned, everyone closed their mouths.

Lingyu had already drained herself of strength, yet she kept pressing on. Until the very end she would not give up. Though she could scarcely hold her hilt, she still gritted her teeth and parried Qian Lele’s swordwork.

“Whish.” Lingyu failed to dodge in time; her sleeve was sliced clean through, yet she did not flinch.

Someone looked away, pitying her. “Brother Qian, really… she’s a junior sister. You can’t even be this merciless?”

“Do you think he wants to show mercy?” another said coldly. “He can’t.”

Many disciples followed the voice and looked toward the center of the small Sword Pool. One Foundation-stage cultivator had stopped his own cultivation and was staring at the duel by its side without blinking.

It was him.

“Uncle Chang!” A disciple pulled in a sharp breath when he recognized the speaker.

Qian Lele truly could not afford to hold back. Though he had overwhelming control over Lingyu, it was not easy at all. Lingyu’s defense was relentless; each time he thought she would topple, she did not. Worse, Lingyu stayed calm and read everything with unnerving precision. She always seized the crucial opening and used the least force to dodge his attacks, even though she no longer had the strength to counterattack.

By now he had only one way left in his mind: either knock her down, or break her spirit.

For a sword cultivator, what could be more humiliating than having one’s spirit crushed? That was more than a passing affront; it struck at a swordsman’s pride. So he clenened his jaw and decided to finish Lingyu in one continuous rush.

Lingyu heard nothing of those around her. She did not care what was happening nearby. All her awareness was fixed on the stream of blade-energy around her—on Qian Lele’s.

His sword energy, like his fighting style, carried a violent, reckless fury; one small misstep would make the mind tremble.

Her inner energy bled away little by little, but his pressure did not ease at all. Each slash came down like a blade to the heart.

Lingyu grew steadily weaker. At one careless instant her robe hem was sheared away again.

Could it truly end only like this? Feeling her inner reserves fail, sensing she had no way to absorb Qian Lele’s ceaseless storm of force, a deep despair rose in Lingyu.

She was unwilling to accept it. She had enough judgment; she understood exactly where each of his moves was headed, could predict the path of each of his blades. She knew how to evade them. But she lacked the strength to match him. Her cultivation was insufficient, her reserves thin, her sword skill not enough. Those were real limits, plain and undeniable.

Was this really her weakness? Was the gap between her and the native swordsmen of Cangming Realm so enormous?

At last, Qian Lele sent forth a blade of qi that struck her force directly. In that instant her inner energy was nearly spent, and Lingyu crashed heavily to the ground, unable to rise at once.

Qian Lele was not doing much better. Sweat coated his face; he stood there panting in heavy bursts.

For a while, the small Sword Pool grew hushed. Not a word came from the Essence-Fixing disciples who had been loud moments before.

They had long known Qian Lele would win, but they had not imagined he would do it with such effort. This junior sister had never truly threatened him from the start, and yet now he stood as if emptied out. Why was that? Could Lingyu truly possess some hidden skill?

“Hss…” Lingyu hauled herself up with a sharp breath. This was a sparring bout, not a battle for life. Qian Lele had cut hard but not to kill. She had no serious injury, yet one arm had been scraped badly and ached fiercely.

She looked down at the wound, gave Brother Qian a restrained bow and said, “Brother Qian’s sword skill is superb. I concede. This place belongs to you now.”

After saying it, she nodded politely to the onlookers and turned to leave.

“Hey!” Qian Lele called after her. “There isn’t only one place in the Sword Pool. Even if this one is mine, you needn’t go away.”

Lingyu turned back and smiled, lifting her arm slightly. “You misunderstand, Brother. Don’t I at least have to tend to this?”

A beat of regret crossed him, and he struck his forehead. In that instant he had looked at her as she had looked—lost and forlorn—and felt a twinge of compassion. She had thought, He is too harsh on her. She is a young woman who already suffers from being taken for a man, what more can he do by being so relentless? It was no different from him; he too had grown up looking feminine and endured more ridicule than anyone should.

And then he suddenly felt they shared the same kind of sorrow. He should treat her better.

Behind Wenjian Peak there was a row of stone cottages where disciples could rest. Essence-Fixing disciples were still mortal-bodied, and if they secluded themselves for long, food and lodging had to be provided; everything was therefore well equipped, and a dozen attendants managed the place.

As soon as Lingyu arrived, a maidservant hurried forward, guided her into an empty room, and brought water. They had all the wound medicine ready as well.

The scraped place on her arm was washed, an ointment was applied, and the wound closed at a speed that could be seen by eye. Medicines in this cultivation world for such small injuries were immediate and absolute, not symbolic.

Then she took spare garments from her Qian-kun bag and changed out of the torn clothes she could no longer wear.

She had heard that robes issued to Foundation-stage disciples in the sect were spirit-crafted, usually impossible to ruin or cut, and she wondered when she would ever get to wear such a garment herself.

Half an hour later, Lingyu returned to the small Sword Pool, clear in mind and body.

Losing the duel had frustrated her, but the frustration did her no good. Instead, she felt she should thank Brother Qian. His unreserved blows had shown her exactly how wide the gap was between her and true sword masters of the Cangming Realm. She was not slow to understand, nor weak-willed, nor lacking talent. She simply lacked actual strength.

If her strength was lacking, then she had only to step back—unless one day she grew enough to defeat him.

Lingyu steadied herself and felt able to face others’ condescending glances before she returned. She did not expect, however, what awaited her there.

“Junior Sister Cheng!” she heard as soon as she stepped onto the platform of the Sword Pool. Qian Lele’s striking features and androgynous voice made him easy to identify.

Lingyu blinked, and even after rubbing her eyes she still saw the same cheerful expression on his face. She glanced around; others either stood in small groups to talk softly or kept to their practice. A few looked at her kindly now, with no hint of contempt at all.

What happened in these half hours while she was gone?

With a face full of confusion, and under his warm call, she walked slowly over.

“Junior Sister Cheng, come, sit here.” Qian Lele guided her to her former seat and sat about a meter away.

Lingyu found it strange. They had been fighting as if for all they had, over this very spot. Why, after losing, did he greet her with a smile and even yield the seat back to her?

“Brother Qian,” she said, standing up, “I lost. This should still be yours.”

“It’s fine,” Qian Lele kept pressing her down. “I can sit here.”

Lingyu rose again. “That other place is farther from the Spirit Sword. This one is better…”

“Mm?” Qian Lele fixed his face. “You’re refusing to sit? Do you think you can look down on me?”

“Of course not,” Lingyu said helplessly. “But we just…”

“What happened before is before,” he said. “Now I ask you to sit here, so sit.”

With determination in his face, he waited. After a moment’s hesitation, Lingyu yielded. “All right. Thank you, Brother Qian.”

Her compliance drew a smile from him. He sat down and spoke with unusual warmth. “Junior Sister Cheng, you look as though you’ve only just begun. Your energy resembles Zixiao sword energy, yet I can feel two different currents. What sword method are you practicing?”

In the past few days Lingyu had begun learning the Water-Fire Sword Technique. Unlike before, when water and fire currents were used separately, she now had merged them into one single force. During the earlier bout with Qian Lele, because she spent most of the time parrying and had few chances to attack, the spectators had never noticed the secret in her sword energy. Only Qian Lele, who had traded blows with her, had sensed the difference.

“To be frank, Brother Qian, I became a disciple halfway through my training. I only knew some sword moves before. Only after I entered the sect did I shift to the Five Elements Sword Method.” It was not an especially profound art. Many Essence-Fixing disciples in the Taibai Sect learned it as their entry-level method. There was nothing there to hide.

“The Five Elements Sword Method?” Qian Lele raised an eyebrow. “No. Those who practice it have one clear elemental affinity. Yours is not like that. Is Junior Sister Cheng unwilling to tell me?”

“Brother Qian, you misunderstand. I’m telling the truth.”

Lingyu held out her hands, and two streams of sword-light—one red, one blue—drifted out slowly. They coiled in her palm, then gradually fused into one, becoming a violet blade-like current.

“Brother, please see,” she said. “My sword energy is different because it is the union of water and fire natures.”

Qian Lele stared at the violet current, eyes widening in astonishment. “A dual-soul vessel. So you are a double-natured one!”

P.S. Today’s pace was beyond my expectation. This chapter still needs polishing.