As the Emei Sect Leader, Miejue appeared rash in her actions, but was actually meticulous beneath her rough exterior.
After withdrawing her gaze from Gu Shao'an, Miejue first glanced at Song Yuanqiao, Zhang Songxi, and Mo Shenggu. Only after confirming that the three had not noticed her covert exchange with her disciple did she slowly speak.
"This nun is not an unreasonable person. If word spread through the martial world that I, Miejue, deliberately deceived Wudang just to reclaim the Heavenly Sword today, Emei would lose face as well."
"Since Young Hero Song believes this nun's actions today were improper, then please personally offer guidance to this nun's disciple, who has only been studying for two months."
As soon as she finished speaking, Song Yuanqiao hurriedly said, "Shitai, this would be inappropriate. Qingshu began cultivating when his meridians first formed at the age of twelve. He has already trained for five years."
"Not to mention that Qingshu is several years older and far stronger. If Qingshu were to fight, it would be far too unfair to Shitai's disciple."
Song Qingshu would turn eighteen in a few months. After years in Wudang building his foundation and nourishing his inner strength, even the dock laborers could not compare to him in sheer strength.
But Gu Shao'an was only eleven, hardly more than a child.
If Song Qingshu fought Gu Shao'an, it would be no different from an adult bullying a child.
Miejue snorted coldly. "If martial arts were merely about having brute strength and acting without restraint, then those who cultivated external arts would have ruled the martial world long ago. What would the rest of us still be cultivating for?"
"Besides, although Young Hero Song is quite tall, his conduct is inferior even to that of my little disciple, who is but a child."
"Since that is the case, this nun shall simply pretend those extra years do not exist."
Hearing Miejue's words, not only Gu Shao'an, but even Juechen and the other Emei elders at the side tightly pressed their lips together.
In the past, whenever they faced Miejue in Emei, they had merely thought her words as cold as ice and stone.
But today, they realized that Miejue had already been trying very hard to be gentle with them.
If she spoke to them like this regularly, after a few times, who knew what lasting psychological scars she might leave behind.
There was a saying: when one achieved success and fame, all those who came and went around them were gentle and polite.
As Wudang's standing in the martial world rose higher and higher, the fellow martial artists Song Yuanqiao, Zhang Songxi, and Mo Shenggu encountered had all spoken softly and treated them with courtesy.
Who would ever be like Miejue, speaking in barbed words and dripping with sarcasm?
Faced with Miejue's remarks, let alone Zhang Songxi and Mo Shenggu, even Song Yuanqiao felt a tightness in his chest, yet did not know how to retort.
Suddenly, Miejue changed the subject. "Previously, we agreed that if my disciple lost the match, this nun would offer the Emei Nine Yang Skill in exchange with Wudang. If my disciple won, you would return Emei's Heavenly Sword."
"Now that your sect is dissatisfied and wishes to add another match, you do not think the conditions should remain the same, do you?"
Zhang Songxi asked, "What does Shitai propose?"
Miejue said, "Young Hero Song will enter the field and compete with my disciple. If he loses, this nun's conditions remain unchanged. But if he wins, then aside from the Heavenly Sword, your sect must also copy out a copy of the Wudang Nine Yang Skill for me."
Though they had already guessed as much, upon hearing Miejue's terms, both Song Yuanqiao and Zhang Songxi could not help frowning.
Although the Emei Nine Yang Skill and the Wudang Nine Yang Skill came from the same source, the principles contained within them differed because their creators were different. Strictly speaking, they counted as two distinct internal cultivation methods.
Within Wudang, the Wudang Nine Yang Skill might not compare to Zhang Sanfeng's later Pure Yang Art, but it was absolutely still a first-rate internal cultivation method.
Even within the Wudang Sect, ordinary disciples were not permitted to learn it.
If they exchanged it for the Emei Sect's Emei Nine Yang Skill, then it would simply be a mutual verification of martial arts, adding another foundation to each sect's martial heritage.
But according to Miejue's terms, if Gu Shao'an won the upcoming match, Emei would gain the Wudang Nine Yang Skill.
As for Wudang, it would gain nothing but a bellyful of anger and grievance.
They would be losing terribly.
For a moment, Song Yuanqiao did not dare agree.
Seeing this, Miejue chuckled twice, her tone gaining several degrees of mockery.
"What? Could it be that the Wudang Sect truly has no worthy successors, to the point that you fear even this nun's disciple, who has trained for only two months?"
Song Yuanqiao and Zhang Songxi were not reckless or impulsive men.
Though Miejue's provocation made their brows furrow even deeper, it still did not make either of them speak.
Instead, Song Qingshu, seeing Song Yuanqiao remain silent, anxiously spoke up.
"Father, grandmaster needs the Emei Nine Yang Skill. If your son can help Wudang exchange for the Emei Nine Yang Skill, grandmaster will surely be pleased."
Though Song Yuanqiao knew this was Song Qingshu's excuse, what he said was indeed true.
After hesitating for a moment, Song Yuanqiao once more looked at Gu Shao'an, who stood with lowered brows, obedient and silent, then sighed.
"Very well! Song accepts Shitai's wager."
He then turned to Song Qingshu and instructed, "Remember, stop when appropriate. Do not injure anyone and damage the harmony between our two sects."
Song Qingshu replied confidently, "Your son understands."
Then, gripping his sword, Song Qingshu sprang into the air. After spinning once in midair, he landed steadily three zhang away from Gu Shao'an.
Confidence and youthful vigor radiated from every inch of him.
The instant he landed, Song Qingshu's gaze immediately turned toward Zhou Zhiruo. When he saw her eyes resting upon him, delight could not help appearing at the corners of his brows.
Watching Song Qingshu strut like a peacock spreading its tail feathers, a flicker of amusement passed through Gu Shao'an's eyes.
Very good. He's fallen for it again.
To avoid unnecessary delay, Gu Shao'an did not waste any time. Raising his sword, he saluted Song Qingshu. "Emei's Gu Shao'an requests Senior Brother Song's guidance."
Song Qingshu nodded lightly, his bearing carrying a touch more arrogance and disdain.
Still, he returned the salute.
"Junior Brother, please."
As his words fell, Song Qingshu held the scabbard in his left hand and placed his right hand behind his back.
He clearly intended to wait for Gu Shao'an to make the first move.
Gu Shao'an sneered inwardly at the sight, and the inner strength within him surged at once.
Without the slightest warning, Gu Shao'an's figure suddenly blurred where he stood, like a wisp of smoke torn apart by a violent wind, only to instantly gather again!
It was as though an invisible giant hand had dragged him, causing him to appear directly three feet to Song Qingshu's left in defiance of all reason.
He was so fast that only then did the gust of wind he kicked up let out a sharp whoosh!
Azure sword light burst forth almost the instant he settled into position. Yet the longsword remained sheathed. Facing Song Qingshu, he still had no intention of drawing it, just as before.
Inner strength flowed into his hand, fine as needles and threads, force concentrated at a single point as he viciously thrust toward Song Qingshu's left ribs with the momentum of thunder.
It was the sixth stance of Willow Leaf Swordplay—Spring Catkin Pierces the Curtain.
The strike came far too quickly. Especially the deep howl produced as the scabbard tore through the air—it was obvious from the sound alone that this strike contained tremendous force.
Every expert present capable of judging position by the wind felt their hearts tighten.
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