Chapter 50: "Doubtful ones, dare you step onto the stage and fight..."
Looking at Liu Suxin, who was as steady as a mountain opposite her, Sheng Zhiyi slowly adjusted her breathing to calm her tense and anxious mood.
The rate at which her spiritual energy was draining away far exceeded expectations, yet Liu Suxin's aura remained as steady as a deep pool.
Her fingers tightened on the hilt of the sword, her knuckles turning white.
We can't keep dragging this out; we must end this quickly.
The sword flashes once more!
Sheng Zhiyi moved like lightning, her "Surprising Feather" drawing a blinding blue light as it aimed straight for Liu Suxin's left shoulder.
This sword strike seemed straightforward, but it suddenly changed its move as it approached, the tip of the sword trembling like a snake spitting its tongue, splitting into three sword shadows that were difficult to distinguish from the real ones.
It is the most difficult of the beginner sword techniques, "Spring Breeze Triple Layer".
Liu Suxin immediately changed her move, holding the broad blade of her sword horizontally across her shoulder.
Her movements were still slow, but this time, the white spiritual energy condensing on the sword's edge was more solid than before.
"clang!"
The two swords clashed, sparks flying everywhere.
Sheng Zhiyi's wrist went numb, and "Jinghongyu" almost slipped from her grasp.
Using the momentum, she flipped backward, landing lightly on her toes. Her body moved around Liu Suxin like a drifting catkin, each pause accompanied by a sharp sword light, stirring up ripples on Liu Suxin's protective aura.
"What a fast sword!" someone in the stands exclaimed.
But it was clear to anyone with eyes that although these attacks were ingenious, they could not truly break through Liu Suxin's defenses.
Even more frightening is that, as time goes on, Sheng Zhiyi's swordplay is slowing down at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Ji Fuguang lightly tapped his palm with his folding fan, counting in his mind.
...This is the seventh move.
He knew better than anyone that Sheng Zhiyi's spiritual power could only support a maximum of nine such high-intensity attacks.
On the field, fine beads of sweat appeared on Sheng Zhiyi's forehead, and her breathing began to become erratic, but her eyes remained as sharp as ever.
When she thrust out the eighth sword, she deliberately created an opening, and the sword's momentum suddenly faltered halfway through.
As expected, Liu Suxin fell for the trap, and the heavy blade swept across with the sound of a tiger's roar.
A glint flashed in Sheng Zhiyi's eyes, and her body suddenly plummeted downwards.
"Jinghongyu" drew a crescent-shaped arc along the ground, aiming straight for Liu Suxin's lower body.
"hiss--"
The sword's edge grazed Liu Suxin's leg, leaving a trail of blood.
"Beautiful!" Cheers erupted from the spectator stands.
But Sheng Zhiyi's heart sank.
She intended to severely injure her opponent with this sword strike, but it only caused a shallow wound.
Worse still, her spiritual energy was almost depleted, and her sword-wielding arm began to tremble slightly.
Liu Suxin looked down at the wound on her leg. White spiritual energy flowed around it, and the shallow wound quickly stopped bleeding. It would probably heal soon.
She looked up at Sheng Zhiyi, her eyes filled with admiration, and said sincerely:
"you're good."
Before she finished speaking, she took the initiative for the first time.
That seemingly clumsy figure suddenly burst forth with astonishing speed, the giant sword slashing down with the force of a mountain.
Sheng Zhiyi unleashed all her spiritual power, raising her sword to meet the attack.
With a loud clang, she was thrown backward, her back slamming heavily against the barrier at the edge of the arena. A sweet taste rose in her throat, and drops of blood spurted from her mouth, splattering crimson onto the bluestone ground and staining her clothes.
It was as if an invisible string had snapped at that moment.
Ji Fuguang's gentle smile turned cold, and his refined and otherworldly aura suddenly became heavy. The elders closest to him felt a sudden unease in their hearts.
His fingers tightened rapidly around the folding fan, his phoenix eyes fixed on Sheng Zhiyi, who lay motionless on the ground, his pupils contracting extremely slightly.
A twisted displeasure was hidden beneath the rage.
Who does Liu Suxin think she is, that she can elicit such an expression from her?
Clearly, her vulnerability and pain could only be given to her by him, and could only be used to please him.
Liu Suxin felt as if she were being watched by a cold, venomous snake, but when she looked up, she was met only with tense expressions from everyone watching, and she found nothing.
In a mere instant, all of Ji Fuguang's emotions were immediately suppressed.
His brow furrowed slightly, and a perfectly measured expression of shock and concern appeared on his face:
"Elders, I'm going to check on Junior Sister's condition..."
“She wants to continue!” the elder beside her suddenly said.
Ji Fuguang immediately turned to look at the arena.
In the arena, Sheng Zhiyi used her sword to support her body and struggled to stand up.
Her face was as pale as paper, but her heart, her blood, and her spiritual power were all saying, "Continue!"
In her almond-shaped eyes, the fighting spirit burned ever brighter.
"Jinghongyu" resonated with her thoughts and emitted a soft hum.
The sword spirit slumbers, but the divine weapon of the gods still bears its glory, unyielding to the death.
"It's not over yet..." She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, the tip of her sword pointing directly at Liu Suxin, "Again!"
A hint of surprise flashed in Liu Suxin's eyes, then she nodded solemnly.
She gripped the sword with both hands, and white spiritual energy surged around her like flames, instantly elevating her aura to a new level.
Sheng Zhiyi took a deep breath and activated her mental technique to its maximum.
A faint blue light gradually appeared on the dim blade of "Jinghongyu," as weak as a candle flickering in the wind, yet it still stubbornly shone.
In the stands, everyone was astonished:
"She still has spiritual power!"
"Where did this spiritual power come from?"
At Sheng Zhiyi's dantian, the green light of the moss spirit root appeared and disappeared, yet it was like a stubbornly growing vine, continuously sending spiritual power into the meridians, like a trickle of water that never stopped.
Her gaze sharpened, and the sword technique of "Jinghongyu" in her hand suddenly changed!
A flash of blue light transformed into an extremely condensed, cold gleam. Like a sudden burst of cold light, it struck Liu Suxin's wrist with lightning speed.
In a moment of haste, Liu Suxin withdrew her arm, raised her sword to parry, and a large amount of pale white protective spiritual energy quickly condensed at her wrist.
Suddenly, everyone gasped in disbelief, staring at the tip of Sheng Zhiyi's sword.
Just as the first sword beam was about to touch Liu Suxin's protective spiritual power, Sheng Zhiyi's wrist trembled again with a movement imperceptible to the naked eye, and an even more condensed sword intent appeared in the air.
Like an arrow piercing through the clouds, it arrives first despite being launched later.
The extreme sharpness was like a needle piercing through cloth, forcefully penetrating Liu Suxin's protective spiritual power.
"laugh--"
The sword strike clashed with spiritual energy, producing a piercing sound, and finally pressed against Liu Suxin's neck.
The cold metal didn't pierce her skin, but Liu Suxin already felt a slight pain.
The outcome is decided!
The "double wave" technique was finally used, but Sheng Zhiyi's expression was no longer one of ecstasy, but rather one of deep certainty and calm.
She knew it wasn't luck or coincidence, but a deep resonance with her own feelings and the "Surprising Feather," a perfect unity of person and sword, as if it were an extension of her own arm.
She finally found her way.
Everyone in the stands was stunned by this turn of events. There was silence at first, followed by a huge explosion of noise.
"Did you see that? That sword just now emitted two beams of light?"
"How is this possible! What on earth is going on?!"
"Storing sword intent in advance?"
"That's against the rules of the game!"
"A menial servant is just a menial servant! How dare he resort to such crooked and shady methods!"
The noise outside the stadium had nothing to do with the two players on the field.
Liu Suxin looked at the sword tip pressed against her neck, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly smiled. The smile lost the solemnity and clumsiness of the battle, and carried a clear and relieved feeling after the dust had settled.
"I lost."
In fact, she had long felt that she still had many shortcomings, and that she was lucky to have gotten this far.
Moreover...
Losing to Sheng Zhiyi is already the best possible outcome.
Sheng Zhiyi sheathed her sword, slightly out of breath. The bloodstains on her chest were glaringly obvious, and although her face remained pale, her eyes shone with an astonishing brightness. She shook her head and said:
"No, you only lost because of your technique, not your Dao heart."
Liu Suxin was taken aback.
Her Dao heart...
That was a Dao heart, as solid and serene as a mountain, forged in countless lonely mornings and nights with every breath.
Looking at Sheng Zhiyi's pale face, blood-stained clothes, and eyes burning with an indomitable spirit, Liu Suxin felt as if she were seeing another version of herself.
A self that, in a completely different way, silently toils in obscurity and struggles desperately in dire straits.
Her Daoist heart was as clear as a mirror, while Sheng Zhiyi's Daoist heart was unwavering.
"Congratulations, Sheng Zhiyi." Liu Suxin finally finished the second half of her sentence, her smile deepening, filled with sincere admiration and resonance. "You deserved to win."
After the match ended, Liu Suxin was teleported away by the magic circle in the arena.
However, the commotion outside the venue did not subside with the final result.
"Two flashes of sword light, violating the competition rules!"
"Yes, storing sword intent in advance is against the rules!"
"Are they treating all these people like idiots?!"
Inside the inner gate, several elders also looked solemn and discussed in hushed tones.
Suddenly, a figure in white, like a streak of light tearing through space, appeared beside Sheng Zhiyi before anyone could fully react, disregarding the rules of the arena.
Ji Fuguang lowered his eyes, his gaze lingering on the bloodstains on her lips, a barely perceptible hint of coldness flashing across his face.
He then turned to look at the crowd, his face gentle and smiling. Although his voice was not loud and his words were calm and even, they instantly drowned out the noise in the room:
"alright."
All eyes were instantly drawn to him, and the arena fell silent.
Ji Fuguang glanced at Sheng Zhiyi and asked softly:
"Junior Sister, what technique was used in that sword strike just now? You must tell me the truth."
Sheng Zhiyi realized he was asking a question she already knew the answer to, and looked up at Ji Fuguang, a hint of pride and smugness flashing in her eyes.
Ji Fuguang, you never thought I'd do it!
She turned to the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the disciples who had raised objections, and saw the undisguised doubt, resentment, and contempt on their faces.
It seemed as if they had heard what was on their minds.
As expected of a menial disciple, his methods were despicable; he actually won in this way.
People believe that seeing is believing. They witnessed her unleashing two sword intents at the same time, so they naturally assumed that she had prepared them in advance and that she had broken the rules.
Ji Fuguang appeared at this time to get her to tell the reason, and even to mediate between them.
The delicate fragrance of pear blossoms wafted into Sheng Zhiyi's nostrils, and without even looking, she knew where the scent came from.
However……
Even if you force an explanation, will they listen? Would someone who hasn't truly experienced it believe that a menial disciple could create his own sword techniques?
It might even implicate Ji Fuguang, who could be accused of favoritism and corruption.
Sheng Zhiyi tightened her grip on the sword hilt, and the trickling streams nurtured by the moss-like spiritual root flowed through her meridians.
She slowly raised her arm, the "Surprising Feather" in her hand pointing towards the spectator seats, a cold glint flashing at the tip of the sword.
Sheng Zhiyi raised her chin, her expression calm and composed, her voice clear and crisp:
"Whether I violated regulations by carrying sword intent is not a matter for investigation, nor does it require anyone to vouch for me; my sword is the answer."
"Doubtful ones, do you dare to step onto the stage and fight?!"
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