Makeup Chapter 12
The gap left by the "left sword" was uneven, zigzagging like a sawtooth, shading several sharp rays of light. Ke Congzhou stared at one of the rays, which gradually faded in color before a brighter one struck. He twisted his hands, brought the two swords together, and swung out a circle of blocking swords.
This is the second layer of "ripples".
Water falls into water, creating ripples. The sword is hidden in the water, hidden behind the ripples.
But a sword is a sword, and its true form has only one direction.
Meng Shizhuang was surrounded by a dazzling display of water. He couldn't see the direction of his opponent's swords, but he knew he had just chopped off the tip of one of them—so what was there to fear?
The white sword spun in his palm, and larger "ripples" spread out.
Ke Congzhou was clearly also thinking of the "broken sword" from earlier, and his movements involuntarily flinched. In that split second, the strength he lost, the "ripples" scattered. He couldn't tell where the sword tip was heading, so he could only grit his teeth and move forward. By the time he realized the sword was tilted, it was too late.
The sharp edge of the sword thrust forward.
Ke Congzhou didn't dare to catch it as he had just done. He forcibly separated the two swords and clamped them together, trying to slow down the attack of Su Jian. Then he felt a shock in his left hand, his palm numb, and his palm empty - his "left sword" was cut off again because of the great force, and he was shaken off the sword.
He gritted his teeth and imitated Meng Shizhuang's "burn everything together" move, without changing his "right sword" technique.
Seeing him charging straight towards Su Jian, Meng Shizhuang's eyes narrowed, he turned his wrist to retract the sword, switched his left and right hands, and hit Ke Congzhou's right arm hard with the hilt of the sword.
Ke Congzhou's right arm felt sore, and his "right sword" fell to the ground with a crisp sound.
He looked at Meng Shizhuang. The other party's move of switching swords with both hands was a miniature of his "two swords in one" at the beginning.
He had no power to fight back, and his body numbly retreated in the direction of the sword.
Meng Shizhuang looked at the edge of the arena a few steps behind Ke Congzhou, and a light suddenly appeared in his eyes.
At this moment——
"Bang!"
"The incense is burning, and the competition is over!"
His whole body stiffened, and his right hand lost its strength uncontrollably. The sword slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with two lifeless sounds.
Meng Shizhuang was full of resentment and grabbed Ke Congzhou by the collar and dragged him to the edge of the stage. Ke Congzhou was stunned as he was pulled.
"The competition is over, it's a draw."
This sentence is like singing an opera.
Meng Shizhuang finally stopped moving. His neck and shoulders felt like they were weighed down by a thousand pounds, making it difficult for him to even turn around. He turned to look at Luo Shun, who smiled and said, "The outcome is still undecided this time. I guess we'll have to wait until next time."
Meng Shizhuang's heart suddenly relaxed, and even the cruel smile on his face no longer seemed disgusting.
Ke Congzhou slowly regained consciousness. He didn't dare look at Lao Hu's expression, but regardless of whether he fell off the stage or not, the outcome of this round was already clear. He opened his mouth to speak, but Meng Shizhuang had already let him go and turned to pick up his sword.
He watched Meng Shizhuang's strength drain away, her steps unsteady, and she crouched for a long time, unable to lift her sword. Ke Congzhou stood there, watching the blood drip from Su Jian's snow-white blade. His eyes searched for Meng Shizhuang's wound, where his arm had been wounded, revealing the horrific flesh and bone.
Ke Congzhou woke up as if from a dream, hurried over to pick up the scabbard, and held up the sword for Meng Shizhuang.
He wanted to talk to Meng Shizhuang: "Meng, Senior Sister Meng..."
Meng Shizhuang looked at him coldly, and just like he did every day on the mountain, he walked down the stage, dragging his sword.
He returned to the ranks, and the disciples, already arrayed crookedly, stepped back around him, making way for him as if they had seen the plague, their eyes filled with terror. If Meng Shizhuang still had even a fraction of his earlier energy, he would have stiffened his neck and tilted his head back, staring at them all until they all cowered.
But he looked at no one.
From the day Luo Shun proposed the bet, he became a bow, its string trembling with tension. The string was so tense that every whiff of wind sang a tune, sometimes a mournful melody, because he wasn't completely certain of winning. Who was Ke Congzhou? Lao Hu had taught him swordsmanship for so long that he couldn't name anything other than "Ke Congzhou." He would traverse the mountains carrying his sword, his reputation as "Senior Brother Ke" even more recognizable than Luo Shun's.
Sometimes, it was also a whisper of joy. Anyway, Lao Hu scolded him with various words, but he never said he was poorly qualified. The few times he liked to scold him were nothing more than "evil thoughts." Looking around Su Jian Mountain, apart from Lao Hu's beloved disciple named "Ke", there must be no one who can be called a "gentleman".
What is the connection between sword training and mind skills? He doesn't think the two are related.
Lao Hu was very powerful, and Lao Ju must have been even better in his time. He was able to protect Meng Shizhuang from the siege of several hall masters. Although he failed to successfully escape the mountain, Meng Shizhuang always felt that it might be because Lao Ju was too soft-hearted. This was a battle of life and death, and it was normal for Lao Ju to be soft-hearted and not willing to kill.
But Meng Shizhuang was different. Was there anyone on Sujian Mountain he could show mercy to? Perhaps with his modest swordsmanship and this inner strength, he could win?
Meng Shizhuang stood still in his original spot. A new incense had been placed on the arena. He stared blankly at the new incense, mentally debating with himself. He regretted the wasted time, realizing the burning regret of "one only regrets not having enough swords when they are needed." He also began to unreasonably blame Ke Congzhou, finding this opponent, whom he couldn't defeat, annoying.
Ke Congzhou still held the "Left Sword" in his hand when he stepped down.
Ruan Kangxing made a mistake while casting the "Left Sword" for him. The blade had a congenital crescent-shaped notch, and since he was right-handed, he couldn't draw the sword more than a few times a month. The "Left Sword" was one of the few mistakes in Master Ruan's swordmaking career. The elder, unfazed, said to him, "Now that this sword has become like this, I'm not worried about whether it will ruin my reputation, but I'm worried about it ruining your practice."
He advised Ke Congzhou, "Lao Hu asked me to practice two swords, hoping that one day you would surpass him. It would be a shame if you neglected your left hand because your swords were not beautiful. You might as well switch them. This one with the chip can only be used by your right hand, so that you can also practice your left hand."
Ke Congzhou certainly understood what Hall Master Ruan meant. Neither of the two swords had to be used in the left or right hand; it was simply his habit. He'd obediently switched for a few days, but he still used his right hand more often. Whenever he drew his sword, the sight of the gap made him feel uncomfortable. He was still far from mastering the art of "dual swords," so he didn't push himself to persevere.
He made a slight gesture and saw that his "left sword" was cut into pieces as long as a palm. Now it was really useless.
Ke Congzhou hesitated for a moment, holding his left sword, before returning it to its sheath. He then removed both swords from his waist and exchanged them. He sat down cross-legged, feeling somewhat exhausted, and stared blankly at the stage.
He is a disciple of Haike and Fanlizhuang.
The second round ended quickly. Before the incense stick had burned, Hai Ke had knocked his opponent's weapon away and easily carried him off the stage.
Ke Congzhou looked away. He felt like a spectator in the first match, a spectator who had fought with such gusto and watched with such gusto. Now, watching the others was boring. He shifted his gaze back to his knees and found a bloodstain. He looked upwards and saw that his collar was wet with blood from his neck.
He grabbed his clothes and covered them casually.
Just like that, Ke Congzhou finally mustered up the courage to go see Lao Hu.
Lao Hu had already sat down again, and his gaze drifted in his direction.
Ke Congzhou's heart moved, and he began to think: Is he looking at him, or is he looking at Meng Shizhuang at the back of the team?
Before he could think more, someone called him from behind.
Ke Congzhou turned around and saw that it was someone from Fanli Village. He stood up and saluted, and the other person returned the salute, saying, "Brother, why don't you come with me to treat the wound? In this weather, it will fester and become festered."
Ke Congzhou thanked him first and followed the disciple out.
Not far behind the procession, there were three or four wooden tables, covered with medicine and clean cloths. A gentleman with a pale face and white hair sat upright, flanked by several disciples. When Ke Congzhou approached, the old man was bandaging the wound on Meng Shizhuang's arm.
The old man was in high spirits, speaking more directly than the usual rambling doctors: "Your arm has a new wound layered on top of an old one. It looks like the old one wasn't properly treated, so I'm afraid it might leave a root of the disease."
Meng Shizhuang had no manners at all. He kept his head down when he heard this, only lifting his drooping eyelids to glance at the old man. After the other party bandaged his wound with cloth, he stepped out of the stool without saying a word and slowly walked back to the team, dragging the plain sword on the table.
Ke Congzhou stood a few steps away and passed by Meng Shizhuang.
When he sat down in Meng Shizhuang's old seat, he looked up and received several rather unfriendly glances. Ke Congzhou understood immediately and felt a little uneasy, but he didn't try to be overly polite, only giving the disciples a proper smile.
The old man did not take Meng Shizhuang's rude behavior to heart. He waved to his disciples, stood up, bent over to examine Ke Congzhou's wound, and cleaned the wound with a cloth soaked in liquor.
He took in Ke Congzhou's expression and asked, "You and that kid just now have the same master?"
Ke Congzhou was stunned for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
The disciples stood by and watched, while the old man, with his seniority and rank, took matters into his own hands. This kind of work certainly wasn't his natural passion. But Meng Shizhuang had a deadpan expression; there was no way he was going to chase after a junior and get embarrassed just to ask a few more questions.
My temper is better now.
The old man continued calmly, "Is that so? Then you're more sensible than he is. If the force applied to the area where you're injured were even slightly off, you'd be carried off the stage. Do you have a grudge against your fellow apprentice?"
The strange feeling in Ke Congzhou's heart rose again, and he politely replied, "She's my senior sister." No matter what, Meng Shizhuang was from Sujian Mountain. Ke Congzhou added, "Senior sister is very sensible and won't really hurt me."
The old man pressed the cloth soaked in medicine powder against his neck. Meng Shizhuang hadn't asked him to feel his pulse just now, so he hadn't realized it was a girl. "You and she are so young, but your martial arts skills are already top-notch. One look at the wound and I can tell it's the 'Su Jian Jue'."
Like swaying water waves, very smooth.
He was in charge of medical matters at Fanli Manor. The fiercest battles between Fanli Manor and Sujian Mountain had occurred, and countless disciples injured by the Sujian Jue had come through his care. He had even treated the former manor's former master, but the wounds were so vital that even a Daluo Immortal couldn't recover. Therefore, he was most familiar with the wounds inflicted by the Sujian Jue.
Over the past two years, the disciples who had returned injured from the night raids on Sujian Mountain had mostly suffered various injuries, while those who had truly experienced Sujian Jue injuries were becoming increasingly rare. The two people we were looking at now were definitely among the few masters among the younger generation at Sujian Mountain.
The old man had an idea in mind.
Today's "masters" are far inferior to the "masters" of Sujian Mountain ten years ago.
Ke Congzhou: "If you can tell at a glance why someone was injured, wouldn't that be announcing your identity the moment you start fighting?"
The old man smiled and said, "If you can really tell me your identity as soon as you start fighting, then you have reached the highest level. It means that your learning has not been in vain."
That this young man would say this was enough to demonstrate the long-standing decline of the "jianghu" and "wulin" worlds. Now, the mountains and hills are filled with bandits who claim to be "knights," relying on theft and robbery to survive. Years ago, when he was still a traveling doctor, the heroes he encountered boasted about their martial arts skills. If it was impossible to tell at a glance whether the weapon or skill had caused the injury, they would be forced to return home in disgrace to practice their skills in seclusion.
It's different now. What's the difference between bandits and thieves? They all have to live in hiding, desperate to destroy all traces. No wonder Sujian Mountain is the most famous in this area, yet lives the worst.
With such a powerful and unique skill in hand, and one foot halfway into the ranks of the "knights" of the old Jianghu, how could one have the nerve to throw aside one's skin and rob openly? Robbing the rich to help the poor is also robbery, and a bandit who shows off a few knowledgeable things is still a bandit.
Ke Congzhou let him treat his wound and thanked him politely.
The twenty rounds of competition ended in the evening. At the end, Fan Ji's speech was even more moving than at the beginning, and then he invited everyone from both sides to take a seat at the banquet.
Ke Congzhou was at the end of the team. As he passed the arena, Luo Shun, who had been waiting, called him over and said, "Ke Congzhou, come with me."
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