With the Seven Forms of Settling Solitude advancing from Minor Mastery to Grand Mastery, Deng Qing had crossed the hill.
Put it this way: at Minor Mastery, Deng Qing had to wait for Li Cheng to change moves before he could glimpse that fleeting opening.
Now, he no longer had to wait.
Where Li Cheng's feet landed, how his shoulders and elbows turned—none of it could escape Deng Qing's eyes.
Whenever Deng Qing wished, he could send Li Cheng's sword flying.
Their supposed exchange was merely Deng Qing feeding Li Cheng moves on purpose. Strictly speaking, Young Master Li was the one paying, and Deng Qing had to keep his patron satisfied.
Zhang Bo stood beneath a tree, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the two fight.
At first, he assumed Deng Qing was feeding Li Cheng moves as usual and paid little attention.
But after a dozen or so exchanges, his gaze changed.
Li Cheng, still on the mountain, felt that he and Deng Qing were trading blows evenly.
Zhang Bo, watching from beyond it, could see clearly that Deng Qing had controlled the entire fight from beginning to end.
This was no ordinary show of restraint. It was like an adult practicing moves with a child.
Zhang Bo's eyes widened.
He clearly remembered their last bout. Deng Qing had already learned the outward shape of the Seven Forms of Settling Solitude, but the moment Zhang Bo quickened his Sword Momentum, Deng Qing had floundered.
How little time had passed, yet Deng Qing seemed a different person.
After a hundred breaths, Li Cheng lowered his sword of his own accord. Sweat glistened faintly on his forehead, but his face was full of delight.
Deng Qing stepped back and let the Blacksteel Soft Sword hang at his side.
Li Cheng asked eagerly, "Senior Brother Deng, I've improved quite a bit these past few days, haven't I?"
Deng Qing nodded. "You have. Your moves flow together now, and your sword is much steadier. Keep polishing them until your Swordsmanship becomes instinct."
Beside himself with joy, Li Cheng was about to pull Deng Qing into another bout when Zhang Bo suddenly said, "Young friend Deng Qing, let's cross hands again."
Deng Qing said nothing. His mind raced.
He weighed the advantages and risks of accepting.
He knew Zhang Bo must have seen through him when he concealed his strength against Li Cheng.
If he fought Zhang Bo, he would likely reveal still more.
Then another thought occurred to him. Showing his strength before Li Cheng might make him more valuable to Li Cheng, perhaps even deepen their cooperation.
As for the risks of exposure, they did not seem severe.
He and Li Cheng were friends, not enemies. Zhang Bo was in the Bone-Forging Realm, and Deng Qing posed no threat to him.
Having thought it through, Deng Qing decided to see what he was truly capable of.
In their last fight, he had barely been able to fight back against Zhang Bo.
Now that both his realm and Swordsmanship had advanced, he wanted to see how far he could go.
His mind made up, Deng Qing cupped his fists. "Please instruct me, Senior."
Zhang Bo walked to a large tree and snapped off a branch of suitable length. With a flick of his hand, he shook off its leaves.
"I'll still restrain my Qi-Blood. I won't use the Bone-Forging Realm to overpower you."
As he spoke, he weighed the branch in his hand. "But I won't be feeding you moves this time. Come at me with everything you have. Don't hold back."
Li Cheng stepped aside and fixed his eyes on them.
Zhang Bo lowered the branch. He looked casual, with openings all over his body.
Yet after watching him for a moment, Deng Qing did not dare strike rashly.
They faced each other for over ten breaths before Deng Qing moved. He stepped forward with his left foot and silently thrust the Blacksteel Soft Sword straight at Zhang Bo's wrist.
Zhang Bo turned his branch lightly, tapped the side of the blade, and deflected the thrust.
Deng Qing used the soft sword's bend to his advantage. With a flick of his wrist, its tip traced an arc through the air and stabbed toward Zhang Bo's ribs.
Zhang Bo retreated half a step and swept the branch upward, intercepting the tip again.
In the blink of an eye, the two were locked in battle in the courtyard.
There was nothing flashy about Zhang Bo's Sword Technique. Every strike was simple and steady, without a single wasted motion.
In his hand, an ordinary branch was no less formidable than a sharpened sword. Taps, lifts, slashes, and thrusts flowed without pause.
Deng Qing unleashed the Seven Forms of Settling Solitude in full.
The Blacksteel Soft Sword bent and straightened by turns. He never contested Zhang Bo's strength head-on, instead slipping through the gaps as the branch moved and Zhang Bo shifted his stance.
Whenever Zhang Bo changed moves, Deng Qing's sword tip followed, driving straight toward the weakest point in the transition of his strength.
When Zhang Bo drew back, Deng Qing followed his retreating Sword Momentum.
When Zhang Bo pressed the attack, Deng Qing avoided its strongest point and cut through the openings between the turns of his shoulder, elbow, and wrist.
The branch and soft sword collided again and again, making a rapid series of light taps.
Standing to one side, Li Cheng could barely make out their moves at first.
After several dozen exchanges, all he could see were crisscrossing flashes of Sword Shadow.
The longer he watched, the more alarmed he became. Cold sweat gradually beaded on his forehead.
Only then did he realize how much Deng Qing had held back against him.
Against this Sword Momentum, he would not last a hundred breaths. He feared he could not withstand even one move.
More startling still, Deng Qing was not facing an ordinary Skin Tempering Martial Artist, but Zhang Bo, who had entered the Bone-Forging Realm years ago.
Though Zhang Bo had suppressed his Qi-Blood, his eye, experience, and control over his strength far surpassed anything a Skin Tempering Realm Martial Artist could match.
Yet Deng Qing had traded dozens of moves with him through Swordsmanship alone, never once being forced onto the back foot. It was almost unbelievable.
While Li Cheng stood stunned, alarm drummed in Zhang Bo's heart. Deng Qing was plainly weaker, slower, and less experienced, yet every thrust seemed to have eyes, burrowing toward wherever it would trouble him most.
At first, Zhang Bo had still intended to feed him a few moves.
Gradually, he had no choice but to take the fight seriously.
They exchanged another dozen or so moves. Zhang Bo deliberately exposed one opening after another, trying to lure Deng Qing into overcommitting.
But Deng Qing merely tested him from the outside, always holding three parts of his Sword Momentum in reserve.
That patience and perception far exceeded Zhang Bo's expectations.
After another twenty-odd moves, Zhang Bo suddenly put more strength behind his attack and swept the branch across, hoping to suppress the soft sword with his deeper foundation in swordsmanship.
Sure enough, the Blacksteel Soft Sword was driven sharply downward.
Deng Qing did not fight the force. He retreated half a step with it and relaxed his wrist.
Just as Zhang Bo's strength in that move was about to run out and he prepared to draw back, a sharp gleam flashed in Deng Qing's eyes.
At last, he had found the faintest break between Zhang Bo's Sword Technique.
This was the moment Deng Qing had been waiting for.
He snapped his wrist. The bent soft sword sprang straight and slipped beneath the branch.
A dark flash streaked past Zhang Bo's wrist.
Crack!
The branch in Zhang Bo's hand snapped in two, and half of it spun to the ground.
The Martial Arts Ground, moments ago ringing with combat, fell deathly silent.
Deng Qing immediately withdrew his sword, stepped back, and cupped his fists. "Senior, you let me win."
Li Cheng's face might as well have turned to stone. His eyes bulged like bronze bells.
Zhang Bo tossed aside the broken branch and stared at Deng Qing. "The Seven Forms of Settling Solitude is notoriously difficult to master. The difficulty was never in its seven moves, but in the eye, the temperament, and the ability to seize the right moment.
"How long have you been learning this Swordsmanship? Yet you've already reached this level. Hard practice played its part, of course, but more than that, you have a gift for the Sword Dao that few can match."