As Li pondered this, a sudden realization struck him. Perhaps he had been wrong from the very beginning—paired with Yan Lu's Heart Method of Sitting in Forgetfulness, the Lightbearing Sword was naturally the perfect counter to Sheng Qi.
Sitting in forgetfulness, free of intent; weak when faced with weakness. A gentleman did not contend; Lightbearing was formless. All of this happened to be the bane of Sheng Qi, who grew stronger against the strong.
Only then did Li realize that Yan Lu's mastery of these three elements combined was unfathomably deep. It seemed the Confucian School truly was a place where hidden dragons and crouching tigers lurked.
For Sheng Qi, a man who believed that the instant prey escaped was the instant death descended, facing Yan Lu—a man who kept slipping away no matter what he did—was bound to be unbearably frustrating.
"If a match like this is meaningless, then what kind of match has meaning? Must it always end with one side dead and the other alive?" No matter the occasion, Yan Lu seemed ever calm and unruffled. "Since we are discussing the Dao through swords, sword intent is enough."
The moment Yan Lu finished speaking, Sheng Qi impatiently raised his sword and attacked. His moves remained as fierce as a tiger, carrying the force of thunder.
Li drained the wine in his cup and thought to himself that if the Confucian School had not sent Yan Lu, perhaps no one would have been able to handle Sheng Qi.
Sheng Qi, who grew stronger when facing the strong, was truly terrifying. Given enough time, even the Six Sword Slaves might no longer be his match.
With that thought, Li's desire to recruit Sheng Qi grew even stronger.
A man like this could be so unwavering in his pursuit of