Winning Without Arrogance, Demeanor Revealed

Gu Shao'an's voice was calm and steady, but unlike before, he didn't draw his sword after speaking.

His posture, even with his hand on the hilt, appeared remarkably relaxed. He merely shifted his body slightly, stepping his left foot half a pace forward. His right palm was raised lightly between his chest and abdomen, a defensive stance characteristic of the Golden Summit Cotton Palm.

Seeing that his opponent was unarmed, young Zhang Yuting frowned slightly. He then let out a low shout, his footwork shifting nimbly. In a blur of motion, he had moved to Gu Shao'an's flank, thrusting his sword swiftly towards Gu Shao'an's Zhangmen acupoint at the waist!

Though this move seemed a bit unpolished, its speed was not slow. The tip of the sword carried a faint whistling sound, indicating that considerable effort had been put into its daily practice.

Gu Shao'an's gaze narrowed slightly. He neither dodged nor blocked.

At the very instant the sword point was about to reach him, his right palm swept out like a light feather, the edge of his palm meeting the opponent's wrist precisely.

This sweep, though seemingly casual and lacking in force, landed with pinpoint accuracy on the critical juncture of Zhang Yuting's power transmission.

Zhang Yuting felt his wrist sink, the concentrated force receding like a tide. His thrusting fingertip involuntarily skewed off-target. Startled, he quickly retreated.

After a brief recovery, he charged at Gu Shao'an again, his swordplay shifting left and right, blocking Gu Shao'an's retreat.

Gu Shao'an remained still. As his opponent closed in, he shifted his stance slightly, his body swaying gently like a weak willow in the wind.

Whenever Zhang Yuting's palm strikes neared, Gu Shao'an's palm would follow like a shadow, brushing against the outside of the opponent's arm or the back of his hand, skillfully deflecting all attacks with a simple push and redirect.

Zhang Yuting's offensive faltered, his young face flushing red, a stubbornness typical of youth rising within him.

He gritted his teeth, channeling his breath to his dantian, and leaped into the air. Mid-flight, he twisted his wrist, his sword finger transforming into a palm strike.

With the move "Flying Bird Returns to Nest," he attacked from above, concentrating all his power into a single point, aiming for Gu Shao'an's head and shoulders!

This strike was both powerful and fast, drawing a gasp from the young disciples of Wudang.

Facing this downward assault, Gu Shao'an finally moved.

He shifted his feet slightly, advancing rather than retreating, slipping under Zhang Yuting's attack to a position three feet below him.

Simultaneously, his right palm flashed upwards in a slicing motion. His palm, like a swift snake's tongue, silently struck the exposed flank under Zhang Yuting's armpit, revealed by his downward lunge!

Every move, every counter, even the timing of his strikes, exuded perfect precision.

It was as if everything had already been planned in Gu Shao'an's mind.

Just as his palm edge was about to touch the collar, Gu Shao'an changed his slice into a push, a gentle yet irresistible force surging outwards.

"Ah!" Zhang Yuting cried out in surprise. Caught in mid-air with no leverage, he was propelled backward by this powerful, resilient force, tumbling and flying away, on the verge of hitting the ground.

Gu Shao'an's movements didn't cease. He tapped his toe, his body moving like a floating dragon, instantly appearing beside Zhang Yuting.

His left hand shot out, grabbing Zhang Yuting by the collar at the back of his shirt.

With the strength in Gu Shao'an's arm, he could easily lift and steady him.

As they landed, Gu Shao'an lightly pushed off the ground, drifting a safe distance of ten feet backward. He cupped his fist in a salute, his voice still calm.

"I concede."

From beginning to end, it had been exactly ten moves.

Gu Shao'an had maintained a steady, unhurried pace throughout, his long sword never once leaving its scabbard.

With only his bare palms, he had effortlessly defeated Zhang Yuting, even going so far as to steady him and prevent an embarrassing fall.

At such a young age, he was already composed, not arrogant in victory, displaying a natural grace.

Coupled with Gu Shao'an's already outstanding appearance, Miejue was thoroughly pleased.

"I... I concede..."

Zhang Yuting, having regained his footing, returned the salute with a slightly trembling, childish voice.

The lingering astonishment and fear on his face indicated that he hadn't even seen how he had lost.

The training ground fell silent.

The Wudang disciples, who had been murmuring cheers for their slight advantage moments before, now stared with wide eyes at the young Gu Shao'an.

In contrast, the disciples of the Emei Sect wore expressions of joy.

Watching Gu Shao'an in the arena, who had won the match so easily without even drawing his sword, they felt a sense of shared pride.

Zhou Zhiruo, in particular, had a radiant smile on her face due to her delight.

Her gaze lingered on Gu Shao'an, her bright eyes sparkling.

However, while the laymen watched the spectacle, the experts saw the underlying skill.

The others around them merely felt that Gu Shao'an's palm techniques were exquisite, and that even by attacking defensively, he had bested Zhang Yuting.

But to Song Yuanqiao and the others, the situation was entirely different.

Song Yuanqiao, in particular, paused his hand stroking his beard as he watched Gu Shao'an's palm techniques, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

With Song Yuanqiao's discerning eye, how could he not see that Gu Shao'an was not using any palm technique at all, but rather the Emei Sect's Willow Leaf Swordplay?

What was even more remarkable was that Gu Shao'an was using his palms as a substitute for swords, manifesting the swordplay through palm techniques. Yet, his palm movements were like a gentle breeze brushing through willow branches, possessing a natural fluidity that moved with the wind.

It was clear that he had cultivated Willow Leaf Swordplay to an extremely profound level. How could this be achieved after only two months of practice?

Suddenly, Zhang Songxi recalled the bet he had made with Miejue earlier, and he felt as though he had been deceived.

His expression immediately darkened, and he looked towards Miejue with displeasure.

"If you wish to reclaim the Heavenly Sword, Abbess Miejue, you need only say so. Given the relationship between Emei and our Wudang, even Shifu wouldn't make things too difficult. Why resort to lies and such a roundabout way to deceive us?"

"Your esteemed disciple, who can wield the Willow Leaf Swordplay with her palms as if they were swords, and whose palm strikes move like swaying willow catkins, has clearly reached the level of 'Achieve Mastery.' How could this be something a disciple who joined Emei just two months ago could accomplish?"

Upon hearing this, Miejue's expression stiffened, and her gaze then fell heavily upon Zhang Songxi.

"Ridiculous! I, Miejue, have walked the jianghu for so many years. My word is my bond, and I never lie. Or are you suggesting that I, Miejue, would disregard my own reputation and that of Emei for the Heavenly Sword, deliberately deceiving Wudang?"

As her indignant voice rang out, Zhang Songxi's words suddenly faltered.

Miejue's reputation in the jianghu was mixed, but some things were universally acknowledged.

One of those things was Miejue's character.

You could say Miejue was ruthless, or that she was narrow-minded and lacked the capacity to tolerate others.

But you had to admit that a person as resolute as Miejue placed immense importance on her reputation and never lied.

Whatever she did, she would own up to it.

That was her reputation.

Matters like a disciple's entry date could easily be verified, and Miejue could never hide something like that.

Given Miejue's character, she would never ruin her reputation over such a thing.

With this realization, Zhang Songxi rose and bowed to Miejue, saying, "It was my mistake to speak out of turn, Abbess Miejue. I hope you will not take offense."

It had to be said that Zhang Sanfeng had taught his disciples exceptionally well.

If it were someone else of Miejue's generation, even when wrong, they would often cling to their pride and escalate the conflict.

But Zhang Songxi, the moment he realized his error, dared to admit it, which surpassed many others.