Song Qingshu had not heard a word Mu Wanqing said. After looking through it once, he had already learned all the Five Peaks Swordplay and the techniques for countering them left behind by the ten elders of the Demonic Cult. Now he closed his eyes, his mind racing at high speed.
Having read the original novel, he had long understood that techniques were dead, while people were alive. If one rigidly used sword moves exactly as prescribed, they would naturally be easy for others to counter. But as long as the swordsman used their moves flexibly, they could naturally keep an enemy from easily dismantling them step by step.
Song Qingshu had always possessed high combat ability on paper, but lacked practical battle insight. Now, these murals had vividly demonstrated exchanges between masters for him.
The angle, timing, and force of each move, the transition into the next move, and the enemy's response... Song Qingshu felt his mind growing clearer and clearer.
Suddenly alarmed, he turned around and stared intently behind him. Mu Wanqing noticed his movement and turned as well, only to find an elderly man with white hair and beard, carrying the air of an immortal, standing there without a sound.
"Young man, your vigilance is quite impressive." The old man smiled faintly. Looking at the sword moves on the wall, his expression sank into reminiscence before finally turning into a long sigh. "After all these years, the Sun Moon Holy Cult has still found its way here."
This man was naturally Feng Qingyang, the peerless sword master from the original novel. The moment Song Qingshu and Mu Wanqing climbed Cliff of Reflection, he had noticed them. To his surprise, Song Qingshu had not paused in the slightest and had headed directly into this hidden cave.
One had to know that, apart from Linghu Chong stumbling in here by sheer accident, no one else in the world knew this secret. Yet Song Qingshu's actions clearly showed that he had known of this place beforehand. Sensing that his inner energy did not seem to come from orthodox martial arts, Feng Qingyang made a slight deduction and concluded that he was most likely a member of the Demonic Cult who had learned this secret from the notes left by predecessors.
The ultimate techniques of the Five Great Sword Sects absolutely could not fall into the hands of the Demonic Cult. The thought flashed through Feng Qingyang's mind as he said calmly, "Young man, I cannot allow you to take the Five Peaks Swordplay down the mountain. You should stay here and keep this old man company for twenty or thirty years instead."
How could Song Qingshu have known that Feng Qingyang had mistaken him for a member of the Demonic Cult? He could not help lamenting inwardly. He had merely come to pick up leftovers that the original protagonist had disdained. Was that really necessary...
Mu Wanqing clearly sensed the unfathomably profound aura surrounding the old man. Hearing his words, she grew anxious and hurriedly explained, "We only stumbled into your sect's forbidden grounds by accident. We did not understand the rules and happened to see your sect's ultimate arts. But Gou Dan'er is only a fool. Even if he saw them, he would not remember them. I beg you, Senior, please be magnanimous and let him leave."
Seeing Mu Wanqing plead for him, Song Qingshu felt warmth rise in his heart and gave her a grateful look.
Upon hearing Mu Wanqing's words, Feng Qingyang's expression immediately became somewhat strange. "He counts as a fool too?" Realizing something, his face turned even sterner as he looked at Song Qingshu. "Deceiving a woman with glib words is even more unforgivable."
Song Qingshu had originally held considerable respect for this swordsmanship master. But seeing him enter and, without asking what had happened, declare that he would imprison him for decades, then proceed to harshly condemn him from the moral high ground, Song Qingshu felt anger surge up within him. The pride of a transmigrator made him smile arrogantly. "Heh. You make it sound like your martial arts are better than mine."
Mu Wanqing's lovely face went pale beside him. She looked anxiously at Song Qingshu. "Gou Dan'er, hurry and apologize to Senior."
After years of quiet cultivation, Feng Qingyang's heart had long become as still as an ancient well. Yet Song Qingshu still stirred a flame of anger within him. He snorted coldly. "Young man, you are far too arrogant."
"You can try me." Song Qingshu stood there silently, eyes fixed on his nose, nose fixed on his heart.
"Make your move. Otherwise, you will not get the chance. This old man will give you three moves first." Feng Qingyang stood with his hands behind his back. Mindful of his status, he refused to strike first.
"That is what you said." A wicked smile appeared at the corner of Song Qingshu's mouth. His body moved, Treading Sand Without Trace pushed to its limit, and he flashed past Feng Qingyang like lightning. As Feng Qingyang slowly fell, a streak of blood appearing across his throat, Song Qingshu wiped the blood from his wooden sword and said disdainfully, "Do not show off, or lightning will strike you down."
Of course, that scene had only been Song Qingshu's fantasy. Feng Qingyang gave his strange smile an odd look and snorted. "Just now, your mind wandered. If I had attacked, you would already be dead."
Song Qingshu wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and smiled awkwardly. Why could he never break this habit of letting his imagination run wild? If the other man had not said he would give him three moves, that moment of distraction would have cost him his life.
"Please instruct me, Senior." Song Qingshu collected himself. As his footwork shifted, one palm concealed the defensive stance of Wudang Cotton Palm, while also carrying the weight of Emei's Golden Summit Cotton Palm and the fierce boldness of Heaven Shaking Iron Palm.
"Eh!" Feng Qingyang looked at him in surprise. This boy can blend several palm techniques with utterly different qualities so appropriately. He truly is a martial arts genius. What a pity that he belongs to the Demonic Cult and is filled with such viciousness. What a pity...
With a thought, Feng Qingyang formed a sword gesture with his fingers and met the attack with a single finger. Song Qingshu was horrified to discover a sharp, fierce sword aura tearing through his palm wind. If he did not withdraw his palm and continued forward, it would likely be pierced through. He hurriedly used his left hand to unleash a Great Demon Subduing Fist, dispersing the sword aura, then flashed backward several meters.
"The Palm Breaking Stance of the Nine Swords of Dugu truly lives up to its reputation." Song Qingshu stared gravely at Feng Qingyang. The Nine Swords of Dugu indeed attacked where the enemy had no choice but to defend.
Feng Qingyang had long transcended the constraints of the Nine Swords of Dugu. That finger strike had merely contained the sword intent of the Palm Breaking Stance. Seeing Song Qingshu mistake it for the Nine Swords of Dugu, he did not explain. "Your martial arts already rank among the best of the younger generation. Rare indeed, very rare."
"Elder Feng truly deserves his reputation as the foremost swordsman in the world today." Song Qingshu praised him sincerely.
"The first move has passed. Make your second move." Feng Qingyang smiled faintly and continued standing with his hands behind his back.
Damn it, when will I get to strike that pose and show off in front of my enemies? Song Qingshu thought resentfully, then immediately sent a proper, straightforward Tiger Claw Hand at Feng Qingyang's centerline.
"Eh?" Feng Qingyang was surprised again. His first palm had blended the essence of several palm techniques, yet this second move was so plain and unremarkable. Knowing there had to be a follow-up, he held his ground and did not move.
Sure enough, when the attack reached him, Song Qingshu transformed his fierce Tiger Claw Hand into the sinister and venomous Nine Yin White Bone Claw. The change came so swiftly that, though caught off guard, Feng Qingyang did not panic. One finger slowly tapped into the sky full of claw shadows.
Mu Wanqing watched from the side until she felt dizzy and nauseated. Song Qingshu's Nine Yin White Bone Claw attacked with incredible speed, yet Feng Qingyang's finger seemed to move in slow motion. And still, it struck at exactly the right moments, using sword aura from his fingertip to scatter every one of Song Qingshu's claws!
After several breaths, Song Qingshu returned to where he had started, both hands unbearably numb. Feng Qingyang, however, looked at him in surprise. "I did not expect that after clashing head-on with my sword aura, he would remain completely uninjured."
"There is still one last move." The more this happened, the more wary Feng Qingyang became. Such a person within the Demonic Cult would be no blessing to Huashan. Without realizing it, killing intent had already arisen within him.
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