Xiao Rou's figure had barely appeared at the street entrance when she hurried forward even faster than before, almost stumbling and crashing her way over. Her face was pale, her lips trembled faintly, and both hands clenched her clothes so tightly it was as if she feared she would fall apart the moment she let go.
Chen Wuya shot to his feet, and the chair scraped across the ground with an ear-piercing screech. He did not look at the two white-robed young men who had somehow squeezed into the crowd. Instead, he hurried over to Xiao Rou and caught her swaying shoulders.
"It isn't qi deviation. Your father is in pain because the meridians blocked for more than a decade have been forced open. It's like a riverbed that has been dry for too long suddenly receiving water—mud and stones come crashing down together. How could there be no noise or movement?"
Xiao Rou raised her head, her eyes rimmed red. "But he knelt on the ground crying out in pain. The soles of his feet were burning like red-hot coals, and his whole body was shaking..."
"That means Earth Fire Ascends is taking effect." Chen Wuya pressed a palm lightly against her back, and a warm current slowly seeped in. "The heavier the blockage, the fiercer the reaction. Go back and tell him to hold on for another quarter of an hour. Once the heat surges from the soles of his feet to his lower back, the pain will pass."
After saying that, he turned to face the watching crowd. Quite a few people had already backed away several steps, fear in their eyes. Someone muttered under his breath, "How is this treating an illness? He's clearly using a person to test some evil sorcery."
Just then, a cold voice came from within the crowd. "That's easy for you to say—some trash who can't even properly practice the Canglang Art dares to spout nonsense about opening meridians and breaking barriers?"
Chen Wuya slowly turned his head.
The man on the left had high, prominent brows and eyes sharp as blades. A Qingfeng sword emblem was embroidered on his cuffs. The short sword at his waist remained sheathed, yet an icy chill already pressed outward from it. The young man on the right had cold, austere features. His knuckles rested on the hilt of his sword as his gaze swept over the strange formation of pebbles arranged before the stall, and his brows drew together slightly.
"Lin Xiao?" Chen Wuya smiled, without the slightest surprise in his voice. "And Xie Yun. You two came all the way to Qingyang Town just to listen to me spout a few crooked theories?"
Lin Xiao sneered. "We were ordered to investigate the leakage of the Canglang Art. You pretend to be a mystic in the street, using fortune-telling as a pretext to spread fragments of a cultivation method. That already violates the sect's rules."
"Spread it?" Chen Wuya patted the tattered cloth banner on the table, the words Iron Mouth Divination written across it. "When did I ever say this was a martial art? They ask about illness, and I answer about qi and meridians. They ask about the harvest, and I speak of the circulation of yin and yang. If we're truly discussing guilt, the ones who should be arrested are those who understood it and still dared to practice it."
Xie Yun's eyes narrowed. "You know that method reverses the meridians and goes against their natural flow, making it extremely harmful to the body, yet you still incited ordinary people to practice it?"
"What of ordinary people?" Chen Wuya retorted. "Don't the disciples of the Qingfeng Sect also begin with breathing exercises? Then let me ask you this—who decided that only people wearing robes like yours are allowed to touch the qi and blood within their meridians?"
Lin Xiao was furious. He strode forward. "Stealing secret teachings and misleading the masses with demonic rhetoric! If you don't hand over the surviving pages today, don't blame my sword for showing no mercy!"
Before his words had even faded, both men drew their swords at once.
Cold light flashed, and the people cried out and scattered. Xiao Rou staggered backward and hid behind the fortune-telling stall, her fingers digging tightly into the edge of the wooden table.
Chen Wuya did not move.
He stood where he was as the wind lifted one corner of the blue cloth and brushed it across his shoulder. He raised a hand and lightly nudged the pebble at the corner of the table, making it roll half an inch.
"You say I stole your teachings?" he asked slowly. "But have you ever considered that the Canglang Art was incomplete to begin with? The complete method has long since vanished from your hands. You cling to a book with missing pages and treat it as gospel, then turn around and curse me for restoring its broken passages?"
The tip of Lin Xiao's sword trembled. "Nonsense! Our sect's records are perfectly clear. How could they be incomplete?"
"Then ask yourself." Chen Wuya suddenly raised a hand and pointed at Xie Yun's sword-bearing right arm. "When you practice the 'Taiyin Qi-Drawing Form,' does the inside of your forearm go numb whenever the weather turns damp and rainy?"
Xie Yun's pupils contracted.
Chen Wuya turned to Lin Xiao. "When you fell at Sword-Testing Cliff last time, you injured the third vertebra of your spine, didn't you? It still aches faintly whenever you change your breathing."
Lin Xiao's breath caught, and the knuckles of his sword hand turned faintly white.
"You think these ailments are because you were careless in your practice?" Chen Wuya smiled. "No. It's because what you practice doesn't connect properly at all. The original Canglang Art followed the Reverse Meridian route, but you insist on forcing it along the normal flow. That's like pushing water uphill. How could the banks not burst?"
"Outrageous!" Lin Xiao roared. His sword flashed, stabbing straight for Chen Wuya's throat.
Chen Wuya leaned backward, hooked his toe around the low stool at his feet, and poured Misaligned Force into its wooden legs. The entire stool exploded with a bang, three splinters of wood shooting toward the two men's faces on a gust of force.
The two men were forced to withdraw their swords and block.
Taking advantage of the opening, Chen Wuya slid forward and pointed at Xie Yun's chest with two fingers. "You drew your sword too quickly just now. Your Shaoyin Meridian couldn't keep up, and your arm strength stalled for an instant—is this what you call 'orthodoxy'?"
Xie Yun's expression changed drastically. He tried to attack again, but Chen Wuya lightly pushed the crook of his elbow with his right hand.
The push looked powerless, yet it instantly stiffened his entire right arm, and the tip of his sword drooped.
"Your old spinal injury hasn't healed, so you rely entirely on your shoulders and back to compensate when exerting force." Chen Wuya withdrew his hand, his tone calm. "Keep fighting like this, and in less than three years, you won't even be able to lift a sword."
Lin Xiao roared and charged forward again, his sword traveling down the center line as it stabbed straight toward Chen Wuya's heart.
Chen Wuya advanced instead of retreating. He slipped sideways past the sword's edge, then let his left hand settle onto the other's wrist. A tremor of Misaligned Force shook through it, making Lin Xiao's tiger's mouth go numb and nearly forcing him to drop his sword.
"The Qingfeng Sect emphasizes 'rectifying the heart and guarding the One.'" Chen Wuya whispered beside his ear. "But your minds are filled with killing intent and arrogance now. Your hearts aren't upright anymore, so what are you talking about guarding the One?"
Lin Xiao retreated several steps, his chest heaving unevenly.
Xie Yun had also recovered. He stared at Chen Wuya with several more traces of wariness in his eyes.
"You don't understand what orthodoxy is at all." Xie Yun gritted his teeth. "You twist the cultivation method, invent crooked theories, and sooner or later you'll harm others and yourself."
"Orthodoxy?" Chen Wuya glanced back at Xiao Rou, hidden behind the stall. "Three days ago, her father was lying in bed waiting to die. Today, he can stand and cry out from the pain. Tell me—which one counts as useful?"
He returned to stand before the fortune-telling stall, his back to the sunlight, his shadow stretching long behind him.
"If you hadn't come looking for me, I would have gone looking for an explanation from you." He gazed at the two men. "Who decided that something incomplete couldn't be made whole? Who set the rule that a crooked path couldn't Connect to the Divine?"
Lin Xiao panted heavily, his sword tip pointing at the ground. "We'll report your words to the sect master. But today, you must come with us."
"Go?" Chen Wuya shook his head. "I'm the 'messenger' invited by the townspeople. I only interpret three hexagrams a day. If you want to ask about your future, you can line up. But if you want to fight—"
He raised his right hand, spreading his five fingers. Misaligned Force flowed around his fingertips, making faint crackling sounds.
"I don't mind teaching a couple more lessons."
A trace of hesitation flashed through Xie Yun's eyes.
Lin Xiao, however, refused to yield. He shouted, "Attack together! Restrain him and take him back to the mountain gate!"
The two men pounced again.
This time, their sword movements were faster. One attacked from each side, sealing off every avenue of retreat.
Chen Wuya spun on his feet, pouring Misaligned Force into the ground. His whole body twisted like a gyroscope, avoiding the point where the two swords crossed. He snatched up a handful of pebbles with his right hand and flung them out.
The pebbles whirled through the air, tracing bizarre arcs. One struck the acupoint on Xie Yun's wrist with pinpoint accuracy, making his arm go slack and throwing his sword off course.
Lin Xiao seized the opportunity and surged in, his sword edge closing straight on Chen Wuya's throat.
Chen Wuya tilted his head. The blade scraped past his neck, carrying away a strand of cloth that drifted to the ground.
He countered with a palm strike to Lin Xiao's Jianjing Acupoint. Misaligned Force pierced into his body, and Lin Xiao's entire right arm went numb at once as he staggered backward.
Xie Yun endured the aching numbness and swept his sword horizontally toward Chen Wuya's waist.
Chen Wuya bent his knees and leaped, the tip of his foot landing on the spine of the sword. Borrowing the force, he flipped through the air and landed on the tabletop of the fortune-telling stall. From his higher position, he looked down at the two Qingfeng disciples standing and panting below. Their battle intent had not faded from their eyes, but uncertainty had already appeared there.
"What you practice is a dead end," he said slowly. "What I teach is a path to survival."
He reached beneath the table and pulled out a corner of a yellowed, scorched sheet of paper, gently unfolding it.
The writing on it was incomplete, the ink mottled and faded. Only one line in the middle remained clear: "Reverse Qi Returns to Origin, Misaligned Meridians Connect to the Divine."
Lin Xiao stared at the fragment of paper, and his throat bobbed once.
Xie Yun's hand trembled faintly around his sword.
Chen Wuya tucked the scrap back into his sleeve and clapped his hands. "Next time you come, remember to sign in first."
Before you continue