At the Fortune Teller's Stall, Qingfeng Disciples Arrive Again

As Xiao Rou's figure appeared at the street corner, her steps were even more hurried than before, almost stumbling all the way as she rushed over. Her face was pale, her lips trembling slightly, and her hands were tightly clenched around the hem of her clothes, as if she would fall apart if she loosened her grip.

Chen Wuya abruptly stood up, the chair scraping against the ground with a piercing sound. He didn't look at the two young men in white robes who had somehow squeezed into the crowd, but instead quickly walked to meet Xiao Rou, grabbing her trembling shoulders.

"It's not going berserk," his voice was steady in a way that belied his age. "Your father is in pain now because the meridians that have been blocked for over a decade have been opened. It's like a riverbed that's been dry for too long suddenly getting water – with mud and rocks rushing down, how could it not make noise and move?"

Xiao Rou looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, "But he knelt on the ground crying out in pain, his soles burning like red-hot coals, his whole body shaking..."

"That's the Earth Fire Ascends taking effect," Chen Wuya pressed his palm gently against her back, a warm current slowly seeping in. "The more severe the blockage, the stronger the reaction. Go back and tell him to hold on for another fifteen minutes, until the heat travels from his soles to his waist, and the pain will pass."

After he finished speaking, he turned to face the onlookers. Many had already retreated a few steps, their eyes filled with fear. Someone muttered in a low voice, "This isn't healing, it's clearly using a person for some evil sorcery."

Just then, a cold voice cut through the crowd, "Easy for you to say—a good-for-nothing who can't even properly practice the Canglang Art dares to speak of opening meridians and breaking through blockages?"

Chen Wuya slowly turned his head.

The man on the left had prominent brow bones and eyes like knives. His sleeves were embroidered with the Qingfeng Sword pattern, and though the short sword at his waist was not yet drawn, a chilling aura already emanated from it. The young man on the right had a cold, clear face, his knuckles gripping the hilt of his sword. His gaze swept over the strange formation of stones arranged in front of the stall, his brow furrowed slightly.

"Lin Xiao?" Chen Wuya smiled, no trace of surprise in his voice. "And Xie Yun. You two traveled all the way to Qingyang Town just to listen to me spout some nonsense?"

Lin Xiao sneered, "We are under orders to investigate the leak of the Canglang Art. You are deceiving people on the street under the guise of fortune-telling, spreading incomplete cultivation techniques, which is a violation of sect rules."

"Spreading?" Chen Wuya patted the tattered cloth banner on the table that read 'Iron Mouth Divination'. "When did I ever say this was a martial art? They asked about their illnesses, and I spoke of qi and meridians; they asked about the harvest, and I spoke of yin and yang flow. If you truly want to assign blame, you should be arresting those who understood and dared to act on it."

Xie Yun's eyes narrowed, "You knew that cultivation method goes against the natural flow and is extremely harmful, yet you still misled ordinary people into practicing it?"

"What's wrong with ordinary people?" Chen Wuya retorted. "Don't you Qingfeng Sect disciples also start with breathing exercises? Then let me ask you—who decreed that only those who wear your robes can touch meridians and qi?"

Lin Xiao was furious and took a step forward, "Stealing secret transmissions and deceiving the masses! If you don't hand over the tattered pages today, don't blame my sword for being merciless!"

Before he finished speaking, both drew their swords simultaneously.

A cold glint flashed, and the common folk cried out in alarm and scattered. Xiao Rou stumbled backward, hiding behind the fortune-telling stall, her fingers digging into the edge of the wooden table.

Chen Wuya, however, didn't move.

He stood in place, the wind lifting a corner of his blue cloth sash, brushing past his shoulder. He raised his hand and gently nudged a stone at the corner of the table, making it roll out half an inch.

"You say I stole it?" he said slowly. "But have you ever considered that the Canglang Art itself is incomplete? The full cultivation method is long gone from your hands. You guard a book with missing pages as if it's the absolute truth, yet you blame me for completing the broken fragments?"

Lin Xiao's sword tip flickered, "Nonsense! Our sect's records are clear, how could they be incomplete?"

"Then ask yourself," Chen Wuya suddenly raised his hand and pointed at Xie Yun's sword-wielding right arm. "When you practice the 'Taiyin Qi Drawing Stance', does your inner forearm go numb every time it rains?"

Xie Yun's pupils contracted.

Chen Wuya then turned to Lin Xiao, "The last time you fell from the Sword Trial Cliff, it was your third lumbar vertebra that was injured, right? It still aches faintly when you breathe."

Lin Xiao's breathing hitched, the fingers of his sword-wielding hand turning white.

"These ailments, you think they're from careless practice?" Chen Wuya smiled. "No, it's because what you're practicing doesn't flow properly at all. The Canglang Art originally followed a reverse meridian path, but you insist on forcing it to flow forward, like trying to push water uphill—how can it not collapse?"

"Presumptuous!" Lin Xiao roared, his sword light flashing, aiming directly for Chen Wuya's throat.

Chen Wuya leaned back, his toes hooking the low stool beside him. He infused misaligned energy into the wooden leg, and the entire stool exploded with a bang, three wooden fragments shooting towards their faces with the force of the wind.

The two were forced to retract their swords to block.

Seizing the opportunity, Chen Wuya slid forward, his left hand feigning a point at Xie Yun's chest. "You drew your sword too quickly just now, your Shaoyin meridian couldn't keep up, and your arm strength faltered for a moment—is this what you call 'orthodox'?"

Xie Yun's expression changed drastically. He wanted to attack again, but Chen Wuya lightly pushed his elbow bend with his right hand.

That push seemed weak, but it instantly stiffened Xie Yun's entire right arm, causing his sword tip to droop.

"Your old lumbar injury hasn't healed, so you rely entirely on your shoulders and back to compensate for your strength," Chen Wuya withdrew his hand, his tone calm. "If you continue fighting like this, in less than three years, you won't even be able to lift your sword."

Lin Xiao roared and surged forward again, his sword aimed for the center, stabbing directly at Chen Wuya's heart.

Chen Wuya advanced instead of retreating, sidestepping the blade. His left hand followed, clasping the opponent's wrist. With a jolt of misaligned energy, Lin Xiao's tiger's mouth went numb, and he almost dropped his sword.

"Your Qingfeng Sect emphasizes 'rectifying the heart and guarding the one'," Chen Wuya whispered by his ear. "But your minds are now filled with killing intent and arrogance. If your hearts are not rectified, how can you speak of guarding the one?"

Lin Xiao retreated several steps, his chest heaving unevenly.

Xie Yun also recovered, his gaze towards Chen Wuya now holding a hint of apprehension.

"You don't understand what orthodox is at all," Xie Yun gritted his teeth. "Misinterpreting cultivation methods and creating your own heretical theories will eventually harm yourself and others."

"Orthodox?" Chen Wuya glanced back at Xiao Rou, who was hiding behind the stall. "Three days ago, her father was lying on his deathbed. Today, he can stand and cry out in pain. You tell me, which one is considered useful?"

He returned to stand in front of the fortune-telling stall, his back to the sun, his shadow stretching long.

"If you hadn't come looking for me, I would have come to you for an explanation," he looked at the two of them. "Who decreed that incomplete things cannot be perfected? Who set the rule that crooked paths cannot lead to the divine?"

Lin Xiao panted, his sword tip pointing at the ground. "We will report your words to the Sect Master. But today, you must come with us."

"Go?" Chen Wuya shook his head. "I am now a 'messenger' invited by the townsfolk, only interpreting three fortunes a day. If you want to inquire about your future, you can queue up. If you want to fight—"

He raised his right hand, his five fingers spread open, misaligned energy flowing at his fingertips with a faint crackling sound.

"I don't mind teaching a couple more lessons."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Xie Yun's eyes.

Lin Xiao, however, refused to back down and shouted, "On me! Subdue him and bring him back to the mountain gate!"

The two lunged forward again.

This time, their sword strikes were faster, one from the left and one from the right, sealing off any escape route.

Chen Wuya spun on his heel, channeling misaligned energy into the ground. He twisted like a top, avoiding the point where their swords met. He grabbed a handful of pebbles with his right hand and flung them out.

The pebbles spun through the air, tracing bizarre arcs. One precisely struck an acupuncture point on Xie Yun's wrist, causing his arm to go limp and his sword stance to falter.

Lin Xiao seized the opportunity, lunging forward, his sword tip aimed directly at Chen Wuya's throat.

Chen Wuya tilted his head, the blade grazing his neck and cutting off a strand of cloth that fluttered down.

He counterattacked with a palm strike to Lin Xiao's shoulder's well, the misaligned energy piercing through Lin Xiao's body. Lin Xiao's entire right arm went numb, and he staggered backward.

Xie Yun, enduring the numbness, fiercely blocked the incoming sword with a horizontal slash at Chen Wuya's waist.

Chen Wuya bent his knees and leaped, his toes tapping the sword's spine. Using the momentum, he flipped over and landed on the divination stall's table. He looked down from his elevated position at the two Qingfeng disciples, who stood panting. Though their fighting spirit remained, their resolve had clearly wavered.

"What you practice is a way to die," he said slowly. "What I teach is a way to live."

He reached down and retrieved a scorched, yellowed piece of paper from under the table, gently unfolding it.

The writing was incomplete, the ink smudged, but a single line in the center was clearly visible: "Reverse Qi Returns to Origin, Misaligned Meridians Connect to the Divine."

Lin Xiao stared at the tattered page, his throat bobbing.

Xie Yun's sword-wielding hand trembled slightly.

Chen Wuya folded the paper and put it back in his sleeve, clapping his hands. "Next time you come, remember to register first."