The first person to come to his senses was Emperor Jingcheng, who knew Lian Shenwei's background.

Emperor Jingcheng clapped his hands and exclaimed in praise, and the shocked ministers below came back to their senses. The mixture of genuine and fake applause broke the silent atmosphere that had just been inexplicably shocked by Lian Shenwei's aura when he drew his sword.

"Thank you, young master."

Haitang was startled, Lian Shenwei put away his sword, suddenly frowned and coughed a few times.

Mingzhu's arm was draped with the clothes he had just taken off. When he heard the cough, he immediately went over. The thick cloak was pressed down on the young man's slightly thin shoulders again, and along with the stunning figure just now, it disappeared.

"Master, you have just recovered from a cold. Don't catch a cold again."

Ming Candle instructed.

Li Ningfeng had a complicated expression and raised his hand to touch his neck.

If he had met Lian Shenwei on the battlefield just now when he had lost all his internal strength, he would have been a corpse now.

The chill just now was clearly the sword energy, the sword energy that only those who have reached the great perfection of swordsmanship possess.

But there was no sword intent in that sword energy.

The sword energy without the sword intent was more like... an imitation. In other words, the sword move just now by Lian Shenwei was not his own move, but an imitation of someone else's.

If he is so strong just by imitating, then how strong is his real ability?

Is it true that such a person has no inner strength at all?

Li Ningfeng didn't believe it.

He had a plan in mind, and walked forward with a smile, saying as he walked, "I didn't expect the Regent King to be proficient in martial arts. It's really surprising. He must have had a powerful master in his early years."

"I tell you..."

Lian Shenwei's eyes flashed with amusement, and he watched at ease to see what tricks this kid could come up with.

When he was still one step away from him, Li Ningfeng suddenly let out a cry, and fell forward, crashing directly into the sword in his left hand.

Lian Shenwei's eyelids twitched, and he took a quick step to the left.

Li Ningfeng narrowed his eyes, pretending to be flustered, and took advantage of the situation to grab Lian Shenwei's right wrist, pretending to use the force to quickly pinch it. Without waiting for Lian Shenwei to say anything, he stood up and said embarrassedly: "Hey, the ground is too slippery, I accidentally slipped in my new shoes, please don't blame me, Regent."

A shock flashed through his heart.

Lian Shenwei actually had no internal strength in his body.

His previous feeling was correct.

Moreover, Li Ningfeng noticed that Lian Shenwei had none of the martial arts skills that a martial artist would have except for a thin ribbon on his right hand where he held the pen.

This shows that he hasn't practiced sword fighting for a long time in several years.

Since he holds the pen with his right hand, Lian Shenwei's dominant hand should also be his right hand, but when he fought with him just now, he used his left hand when he drew his sword.

Unless the person's right hand is injured, he cannot complete actions like sword drawing that require wrist strength and inch strength without internal strength.

That sudden pull and pinch he just gave...

These thoughts are but a fleeting moment.

Li Ningfeng's expression darkened slightly, his eyes fixed on Lian Shenwei's right hand which was covered by the cloak.

You can't see anything through the clothes.

Lian Shenwei said calmly, "Young Marquis, you'd better be careful. Otherwise, if you really get hurt and word gets out, people outside will think that Young Marquis is dissatisfied with how I handled Luan Qingan and has a grudge against me."

He handed the sword to the eunuch beside him and nodded to Emperor Jingcheng, "Your Majesty, I have just recovered from my illness. It is cold outside, so I will return home first."

Emperor Jingcheng: "Come here, send the Prince Regent back. Lian Qing, have a good rest, and take care of your health."

Lian Shenwei answered yes, and Ming Cang and Tiannan followed him out of the palace.

Li Ningfeng looked at his leaving back and frowned slightly.

Lian Shenwei only used one move, but he could feel that he did not use his full strength. Even if he did not have internal strength, such "crude kung fu" could not be mastered overnight.

But if he remembered correctly, when he talked about Lian Shenwei with Jingjue the day before yesterday, Jingjue said that his teacher had studied literature since he was a child, and he had never heard of him learning martial arts.

There are some things he still needs to investigate carefully.

The moon hides behind dark clouds.

The carrier pigeon fluttered away.

Foquan Temple.

"Over the years, the only person in the Great Sheng Dynasty that I couldn't understand was Lian Shenwei." Moda burned incense and offered it in front of the Buddha statue. "After investigating for so long, I still can't find out his background?"

Mu Xiang said, "His recorded identity and files are clear and there is nothing to check. Which official in the Great Sheng Dynasty was not allowed to serve as an official after his three generations of ancestors were thoroughly investigated? Grand Master, this cannot be faked. If you really doubt his identity, the only one who can fake it is Emperor Jingcheng."

Emperor Jingcheng helped a minister to forge an identity? What did he want?

"But the news that came in today said that Lian Shenwei defeated Li Ningfeng with just one move."

"One move?" Moda slowly opened his eyes and after a long while, he said, "Go investigate again. This time, don't limit yourself to the imperial court, investigate the martial arts world."

"yes."

Mu Xiang: "The informant that Luan Qin Gan contacted was also discovered by Lian Shenwei. He didn't kill him, but broke one of his legs and let him go. It seems that he wanted to play the long game to catch the big fish. I have already dealt with the informant, Grand Master, don't worry."

"Well," Moda sat on the futon and picked up the wooden fish beside him, "The capital is prosperous, while the border is bitter and cold. The young marquis is so young, he should enjoy himself more like his father."

Mu Xiang: "What do you mean?"

Moda did not say anything, but recited the scriptures in a low voice.

Mu Xiang: "I understand."

The Mansion of the Marquis of Loyalty.

Li Ningfeng thought back to what happened today, picked up a pen and wrote a letter, tied it to the golden eagle's leg, and threw it forward: "Go."

A few years ago, after he accidentally practiced an unknown but very much to his liking, a mysterious man came to him and said that what he practiced was their core heritage, and asked him to call him master according to the rules of the martial arts world.

Li Ningfeng thought he was a liar, but the mysterious man sent him letters several times, and every word he wrote was full of wisdom. From his conversation, it could be seen that he seemed to be a reclusive, gentle and unrestrained person from the underworld who lived in the mountains.

The master never asked him to do anything, nor did he ask him to fulfill any responsibilities as a successor. He only asked him to study the mind method well. In all these years, they had never even met each other.

Master is very knowledgeable, and it seems that no problem can stump him.

Li Ningfeng would often seek advice when he had questions. Apart from his father, the person he respected most was this nameless master.

Now that he has returned to the capital, the master should receive the letters he sent out faster than when he was at the border.

Li Ningfeng climbed out of the window, took out a long sword from the weapon rack in the courtyard, and flicked his finger on the sword.

The moonlight fell on the sword, like a layer of frost.

He suddenly grasped the sword and swung it forward.

Not true.

Li Ningfeng swung the sword several times but failed to get it right. Only then did he understand more and more the profoundness of Lian Shenwei's sword strike today.

I was so absorbed in the moment that before I knew it, it was already midnight.

Li Ningfeng's ears twitched, he wiped the sweat off his head, put away his sword, turned around and looked at the archway: "Uncle Liu, why are you here?"

Uncle Liu is the housekeeper of the mansion and is older than his father.

"The Marquis knows that you are still awake so late, so he asked me to bring you some food so that you won't be hungry at night." Uncle Liu smiled and put the food box on the stone table, opened it, and took out a bowl of porridge with minced meat. "I put it here, remember to eat it."

Li Ningfeng: "Okay."

Uncle Liu nodded lovingly, turned and left.

Children born in the Loyalty Marquis's Mansion were instilled with the concept that food is hard to come by. The young marquis, who had fought on the frontier for three years, would never waste that bowl of porridge.

Li Ningfeng practiced for another half an hour. When the porridge became warm, he threw away the sword and paused when he picked up the bowl. Then he took out a needle from his arms and stabbed it into the porridge to try. Seeing no change, he drank the porridge in a few gulps.

The Regent Palace.

The owner of the study was not at work, so there was only a lamp on the desk, making it a little dim.

Feng Ke was yawning and complaining as he applied medicine to Lian Shenwei's right wrist, "...I am confident in my medical skills, but your tendons and meridians were broken and you were infested with worms. You are completely useless."

"My father and I are the only ones who have been sewing for you. Our embroidery skills are almost as good as those of the embroiderers in Shuzhou. It's fine for normal use, but it can't withstand being pulled. Don't you know how strong the power of Lian Ningfeng's hand is? Don't you know how to dodge? Does it feel good to feel the pain? Does it feel good?"

Feng Ke becomes irritable just before going to bed, commonly known as noisy sleep.

He took out a small amount of ointment and rubbed it on his friend's wrist with a small jade wheel.

Lian Shenwei: “…”

Not happy.

He knew he was in the wrong and wisely avoided adding fuel to the fire.

Tiannan came in with a small bamboo slip and a small box in his hands.

"Master, it's from the Marquis of Loyalty's Mansion. I brought it here along with the other things from the manor on the outskirts of the city."

Lian Shenwei opened the bamboo tube and found a letter inside. It was densely written and at a glance it was pretty much what he had guessed, talking about today's martial arts competition.

[Master personally said:

Today I fought with a man and was defeated in one move. My opponent has no internal strength and no sword skills. I have three questions... Please answer them, Master.

I recently returned to Beijing and have some free time. I don’t know where my master is, and I would like to thank him in person for his teachings.

Also, I wonder if Master likes the things I sent to him last time.]

Lian Shenwei pondered for a moment, he knew where Li Ningfeng's weaknesses were, he had figured them out clearly at the welcoming banquet today.

After the ointment on his wrist was absorbed, he reached for the pen holder.

"no!"

Lian Shenwei's hands trembled.

Tiannan was shocked.

Feng Ke's eyes widened in disbelief: "What are you doing?!"

Lian Shenwei was silent for a moment: "Reply."

"...Come on, hold it and write. I'll watch you write," Feng Ke picked up the brush himself, dipped it on the inkstone, and put it into Lian Shenwei's hand.

Lian Shenwei held the pen in his hand, which was suspended in the air, with the tip of the pen trembling slightly.

He paused, held his right wrist with his left hand, stabilized it, and dropped it onto the paper. Before he wrote the first stroke, the brush was snatched away by Feng Ke.

Feng Ke looked unhappy and said three words: "Don't write anymore, it won't be good."

Lian Shenwei looked at him and said, "I think I can write well."

The smile on the young man's lips had not yet faded, the dragon was still burning in the house, he was wearing a thin blue shirt, sitting under the dim candle, exuding a warm and elegant scholarly air.

A big change in a few years can turn one person into another.

But still the same stubbornness.

Nine years ago, Lian Yubai woke up in spring when the pear blossoms were just beginning to bloom. After he knew that his right hand was disabled and that he could not use his internal energy, he did not have any unusual reaction. He just put on a suit that was convenient for practicing martial arts that afternoon.

[“Feng Ke, even if I can’t use my internal energy, I think I can still swing the sword with my right hand.”

The young man held the lightest wooden sword and repeated the simplest chopping movements with sweat dripping down his face, but he never swung the sword once without trembling.

Feng Ke heard his father sigh and say, "Don't try to persuade him. He will get through this sooner or later."

He just stood in the corner, watching the sword-wielding figure with his father.

Lian Yubai practiced tirelessly.

It was not until the wooden sword slipped out of his hand and he could no longer hold it that he sat in silence under the pear tree.

The young man stood there for the whole night, with pear blossoms falling all over his shoulders.

For a moment, Feng Ke felt that his childhood friend, who was very proud in nature, was not as straight as before.

Lian Yubai looked at the wooden sword on the ground. Before dawn, he bent down and picked up the wooden sword on the ground. Still with his right hand, he began to swing it tirelessly.

Feng Ke looked up and saw his father's eyes were red, so he closed his eyes reluctantly.]

Feng Ke came to his senses. In fact, he had always known that his childhood friend's left-hand sword was also very good, but there was a strong force in his bones that kept him from admitting defeat and kept him moving forward.

He glanced at the brush in his hand, intending to return it to Lian Shenwei, and said carefully: "You..." It is not impossible to write a few fewer words in the reply.

"never mind."

Lian Shenwei gave up, took the remaining small box with a smile, opened it and took a look.

Feng Ke was stunned: "You're not going to write anymore?"

Lian Shenwei: “I won’t write anymore.”

He flipped through the small box and found the things that Li Ningfeng had sent him. Most of them were valuable skin care products. For some reason, this kid thought that his master was in his 40s or 50s, a middle-aged man. He even sent him a tiger whip.

"Fortunately I didn't reply, otherwise my hands and handwriting would be shaking, and he would have thought I was an old man in his seventies or eighties who couldn't even write steadily." Lian Shen smiled.

His voice entered Feng Ke's ears, floating and far away, and somewhat unreal.

He looked at Lian Shenwei's smiling eyes, but what he remembered was the young man buried deep in his memory, under the pear tree, gritting his teeth and swinging the wooden sword again and again.

Feng Ke suddenly hoped very much that Lian Shenwei could snatch the brush from his hand and write a word on the paper, even just one stroke.