Agitated by their true qi, the waters that once flowed south instantly became a surging fountain. Borrowing its momentum, Yan Wushi guided the spout—combining its water with the Spring Waters finger technique, he transformed the stream into a thousand razor-sharp blades that swept toward Ruyan Kehui.
From where Shen Qiao and Bai Rong stood, the towering spray churned up by internal energy seemed to swallow Ruyan Kehui whole. Though Bai Rong strained to see, she could only discern a few blurred shadows and was completely unable to spot exactly where Ruyan Kehui would appear, or even from where he’d launch his counterattack.
The mountain gales were strong to begin with. These, combined with the two fighters using most of their internal energy, created two powerful air flows that met within the canyon, twisting together into a giant vortex. The tempest was so fearsome that the river’s flow reversed while the mighty winds coursed into robes, causing them to swell and rustle.
Bai Rong had no desire to channel her own internal qi to block the currents. If she tried and found that her internal energy was weaker than the gale, she’d only end up hurting herself.
All she could do was go on enduring the torment that buffeted her, lashing her with vapor and loose leaves. Turning her head, she saw that Shen Qiao had lifted his sleeves in front of his face to shield himself from all the vapor and dust that was pelting at him.
Bai Rong was about to tease him, to ask how he meant to watch the match like that, but then she recalled that he couldn’t see anyway. “Are you listening to them duel?” she just had to ask, curious. “What can you hear?”
“I can hear the flow of their true qi,” said Shen Qiao. “If I’m not wrong, Academy Master Ruyan is about to draw his sword.”
“How do you know?” asked Bai Rong.
Shen Qiao smiled but said nothing.
Just then, Bai Rong looked up and saw Ruyan Kehui, with a single stroke of his sword, slice through the watery trap Yan Wushi had fashioned for him. Overwhelming Yan Wushi’s technique with his superior force, the sword glare shattered the massive stream Yan Wushi had churned up with his true qi. It dispersed, the spray cascading down all around them like the flowers scattered by a celestial maiden or a mighty downpour.
At the sight of it, Bai Rong couldn’t resist the urge to show off. “See, isn’t the location I chose excellent? We even have cover overhead,” she gloated. “Meanwhile, those other people can’t even choose a decent viewing spot. And they dare not use their true qi to protect themselves, so they get splashed full in the face!”
The nearby battle continued, with one combatant armed with a sword and the other barehanded. Sword glares engulfed the canyon, suspending and overturning the water, but inside the tumult, Yan Wushi skated about with ease. His hands seemed to make no specific moves; instead they adhered to four basic gestures: pinch, swipe, gather, and flick. Yet he remained brash and carefree, never a step behind.
Bai Rong’s brows knitted in a slight frown. “He doesn’t seem to be using the Spring Waters finger technique?”
“It is the Spring Waters finger technique,” said Shen Qiao, “only transformed. Though it’s only one finger technique, there are a thousand possible variations, but they’re all still the same finger technique. Academy Master Ruyan’s swordplay is the same. If you watch closely, all he’s using is the same move, over and over. But that one move is enough to cover every possibility. Stalwart and infallible, it’s capable of fending off thousands of enemies.”
Bai Rong stared with rapt attention for some time, then realized he was right. Despite herself, her perception of Shen Qiao shifted again.
Everyone knew about Shen Qiao’s former identity, but because of his loss to Kunye, they all doubted his martial abilities. They couldn’t help but feel that not only did he fail to match up to Qi Fengge, but he might not even count among the top ten besides. Though Bai Rong had suffered a loss to him to before, she, too, had always seen him as frail, sickly, unable to keep up for long, and likely to collapse at any moment. As he spoke now, she understood that a grandmaster was ultimately still a grandmaster. His observations alone far surpassed those of the average person.
“You said that Yan Wushi would win, but you didn’t say why.” Bai Rong leaned toward him, and her orchid-scented breath fanned over his ear.
Supporting himself against a rock face, Shen Qiao shuffled a step to the side.
Bai Rong made no comment.
Very seriously, Shen Qiao told her, “I don’t like such things. If you keep doing this, I won’t talk to you anymore.”
Bai Rong forced a laugh. “What’s all this? I haven’t even touched you yet. You’re more prudish than a virgin maiden!”
She reached out a hand toward Shen Qiao.
Sorts like Yuwen Qing aside, when a lovely, peerless beauty like her wanted to seduce someone, even normal men with no interest in philandering fell to her charms. Even if they weren’t totally smitten, they at least felt a certain intoxication blooming in their hearts. But Shen Qiao was an exception. While she wasn’t daring enough to test herself against first-rate martial artists like Yan Wushi or Ruyan Kehui, she’d still been frustrated countless times by Shen Qiao.
Her outstretched hand was blocked by Shen Qiao’s bamboo cane. His expression sank like a stone in water, becoming severe, and he spoke not a single word more.
Bai Rong knew he was keeping his word, and she was both a little angry and a little regretful. She tamped it down and said nothing.
In the space of a moment, Yan Wushi and Ruyan Kehui had exchanged thousands of blows, but neither one showed a hint of fatigue. Their battle took them from one end of the canyon to the other all as the sun gradually traveled west. The fighters knew nothing of the time, and the spectators, too, completely lost themselves in the fight. Noon passed without anyone’s notice—the combatants had been dueling for more than four hours, but victor and loser had yet to emerge.
Bai Rong’s skills put her among the first-rate of the jianghu, but there was still much for her to learn from this fierce battle—it was on a level she’d never seen before. Today, it was like a mighty gate had opened just a crack, allowing her a peek through to the scenery inside.
Though it was only a crack, it was enough to shake her down to the core.
She finally knew what separated her from the grandmasters, and why she’d never been able to cross that gulf, all this time: her martial arts were only martial arts, while Yan Wushi and Ruyan Kehui’s martial arts had become a part of their bodies, in their every inhale and exhale, their every pull and release. When they inhaled, their world shrank down to a point; when they exhaled, a hundred streams flowed back to the source. When they pulled, they drew in the sun, moon, and wind; when they released, the land itself sprang forth in acres.
Bai Rong watched, completely enchanted. Unwittingly, she murmured, “Will I ever reach their level in my lifetime?”
This time, Shen Qiao actually answered. “You’re very talented.”
Bai Rong thought about her cultivation methods. For some reason, her mood suddenly fell, becoming bleak. “I can’t cultivate using their path. And my path…they disdain it,” she said, self-deprecating.
“From the great Dao springs forth many thousand paths,” said Shen Qiao. “Some are fast, some slow, but none are better than any other.”
Bai Rong smiled at him sweetly. “Weren’t you angry at me just now, saying you wouldn’t speak to me? But now you’re speaking to me again!”
“If you talk about proper things, naturally I’ll give proper answers,” said Shen Qiao.
Bai Rong tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear—even this little movement of hers oozed endless charm. Unfortunately, her companion was blind, so there was no one to appreciate it.
“Since you gave me a kernel of guidance just now, I’ll return you the favor. I told you before that you should stay away from Yan Wushi, and you must take these words to heart, Shen-lang. Don’t just treat them like the passing wind, or else you’ll end up dying a pointless death! Someone like you dying in your prime without ever experiencing sex? That’d be such a pity!”
Shen Qiao frowned. “Could you clarify what you mean?”
Bai Rong smiled brightly. “I can’t! Even just warning you is a huge risk to this one. If you refuse to take it to heart, there’s nothing she can do!”
Then she made a sound of surprise. “Oh, they’re finished?”
While they’d spoken, the two silhouettes had abruptly separated, each landing atop a random protrusion in the cliff face.
Bai Rong seemed a little confused. “Was it a draw?”
If even she couldn’t tell, then very few at the scene could. The whispers of spectators rose up around them, all discussing the same question: had Ruyan Kehui won or Yan Wushi?
Or rather, what they really wanted to ask: could Ruyan Kehui really defeat Yan Wushi?