Second Battle with Zhang Bo

"Settling Solitude's Seven Forms" had crossed from Minor Mastery into Grand Mastery, and Deng Qing had already crested the hill.

To put it simply, when he had only reached Minor Mastery, Deng Qing had to wait for Li Cheng to transition between moves before he could spot that fleeting opening.

Now, he no longer had to wait.

The placement of Li Cheng's feet and the turns of his shoulders and elbows were completely exposed to Deng Qing.

If Deng Qing wished, he could knock Li Cheng's sword flying at any moment.

The so-called exchange of attacks was nothing more than Deng Qing deliberately feeding Li Cheng moves. After all, strictly speaking, Young Master Li was the financier, and as the contractor, Deng Qing couldn't fail to satisfy his client.

Zhang Bo stood beneath a tree with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the two fight.

At first, he assumed Deng Qing was simply feeding Li Cheng moves as usual and paid it little mind.

But after watching more than a dozen exchanges, his gaze changed.

Li Cheng was in the midst of the fight and felt that he and Deng Qing were evenly matched.

Zhang Bo stood outside the battle and saw clearly that from beginning to end, the entire exchange had remained under Deng Qing's control.

This was no longer an ordinary act of yielding. It was like an adult practicing moves with a child.

Zhang Bo's eyes widened further and further.

He remembered clearly that during their last exchange, Deng Qing had already practiced "Settling Solitude's Seven Forms" with considerable skill, but the moment Zhang Bo sped up his swordplay, Deng Qing had immediately become flustered and clumsy.

How long had it been? Deng Qing seemed to have become an entirely different person.

After a hundred breaths, Li Cheng voluntarily withdrew his sword. Fine sweat had appeared on his forehead, but his face was full of delight.

Deng Qing retreated with the momentum, letting the Blacksteel Soft Sword hang at his side.

Li Cheng asked impatiently, "Senior Brother Deng, have I improved quite a bit over the past few days?"

Deng Qing nodded. "You've improved tremendously. Your moves are connected now, and your swordplay is much steadier. From here on, you only need to keep honing it, slowly training the swordsmanship into instinct."

Li Cheng was overjoyed and was just about to pull Deng Qing into another round when Zhang Bo suddenly spoke. "Young Friend Deng Qing, let's exchange a few moves as well."

Deng Qing fell silent, his mind racing.

He weighed the pros and cons of making a move.

He knew perfectly well that Zhang Bo had definitely seen through the fact that he had been concealing his strength while exchanging moves with Li Cheng.

If he fought Zhang Bo, he would probably have to reveal even more.

Then he thought of another angle. If he displayed his strength in front of Li Cheng, it would also increase his importance to Li Cheng. Perhaps a partnership like this could be deepened further.

As for the risks of being exposed, they did not seem particularly serious.

He and Li Cheng were allies, not enemies, while Zhang Bo was even a Bone-Forging Realm expert. Deng Qing posed no threat to him.

Having thought it through, Deng Qing decided to test just how much he was truly capable of.

After all, during their last exchange, he had barely been able to fight back against Zhang Bo.

Now that both his realm and swordsmanship had broken through, he also wanted to see exactly how far he could hold out.

Once his mind was made up, Deng Qing cupped his hands. "Please give me your guidance, Senior."

Zhang Bo walked to a large tree and broke off a branch of a suitable length. With a flick of his hand, he sent leaves fluttering down.

"I'll still suppress my qi and blood. I won't bully you with the strength of the Bone-Forging Realm."

As he spoke, he weighed the branch in his hand. "But this time, I won't be feeding you moves. Feel free to give it your all. Don't hold back."

Li Cheng retreated to the side, staring intently at the two of them.

Zhang Bo lowered the branch. He looked casual, and openings seemed to cover his entire body.

Yet after staring for a while, Deng Qing still did not dare to draw his sword rashly.

The two faced off for more than ten breaths before Deng Qing moved first. He stepped forward with his left foot, silently extending the Blacksteel Soft Sword straight toward Zhang Bo's wrist.

Zhang Bo gently turned the branch in his hand and accurately tapped the side of the blade, deflecting the thrust.

Taking advantage of the soft sword's bend, Deng Qing flicked his wrist. The tip traced an arc through the air before stabbing toward Zhang Bo's ribs.

Zhang Bo retreated half a step, sweeping the branch upward from below and intercepting the sword tip once more.

In the blink of an eye, the two were locked in a fierce battle in the courtyard.

Zhang Bo's sword moves were utterly unadorned. Every strike was simple and steady, without the slightest unnecessary motion.

In his hands, an ordinary branch was no less formidable than a true sharp sword. Whether tapping, lifting, slicing, or thrusting, his attacks flowed without end.

Deng Qing also fully unleashed "Settling Solitude's Seven Forms."

The Blacksteel Soft Sword alternated between straight and curved, never clashing head-on with Zhang Bo. Instead, it slipped through the gaps between the branch's movements and his shifting form.

Every time Zhang Bo changed moves, Deng Qing's sword tip followed close behind, targeting the weakest point in the transition of his strength.

When Zhang Bo withdrew, Deng Qing followed the retreating momentum of his sword.

When Zhang Bo launched an assault, Deng Qing avoided its strongest point and cut in through the gaps between his shoulder, elbow, and wrist.

The branch and soft sword collided repeatedly, producing a dense series of light clangs.

Li Cheng stood to the side. At first, he could still barely make out the two men's moves.

After dozens of exchanges, all that remained before his eyes were streaks of intertwined, flashing sword shadows.

The more he watched, the more alarmed he became, and cold sweat gradually broke out on his forehead.

Only now did he understand how much Deng Qing had held back when fighting him earlier.

If Deng Qing used swordplay of this level against him, there would be no need for a hundred breaths. He probably wouldn't last even a single move.

What shocked him even more was that Deng Qing's opponent was not an ordinary Skin Tempering martial artist, but Zhang Bo, who had been in the Bone-Forging Realm for many years.

Although Zhang Bo had suppressed his qi and blood, his eyesight, experience, and control over his strength were far beyond what a Skin Tempering Realm martial artist could match.

Deng Qing was actually able to use his swordsmanship to dismantle dozens of his moves in succession without being forced back. It was simply inconceivable.

While Li Cheng was stunned, Zhang Bo's heart was pounding as well. Deng Qing's strength, speed, and experience were all inferior to his own, yet every sword seemed to have eyes, burrowing straight into the places that made him most uncomfortable.

At first, Zhang Bo had still retained the intention of feeding him moves.

Gradually, he had no choice but to take the fight seriously.

The two exchanged more than ten moves again. Zhang Bo repeatedly revealed openings, trying to lure Deng Qing into advancing recklessly.

Deng Qing merely tested the perimeter, keeping three parts of his sword force in reserve at all times.

This patience and vision were completely beyond Zhang Bo's expectations.

After another twenty-odd moves, Zhang Bo suddenly increased his force. The branch swept horizontally, and he tried to suppress the soft sword through his deeper foundation in swordsmanship.

Sure enough, the Blacksteel Soft Sword was pressed sharply downward.

Deng Qing did not force a clash. He retreated half a step along the force transmitted through the blade, and his wrist relaxed with it.

Just as the force behind Zhang Bo's move was about to run out and he prepared to withdraw, a flash of brilliance appeared in Deng Qing's eyes.

At last, he had found an exceedingly fine discontinuity between Zhang Bo's sword moves.

This was the moment Deng Qing had been waiting for.

He abruptly flicked his wrist. The curved soft sword snapped straight and slipped in from beneath the branch.

A flash of blacksteel passed close by Zhang Bo's wrist.

Crack!

The branch in Zhang Bo's hand broke in two, and half of it spun through the air before landing on the ground.

The practice ground, which had been filled with fierce exchanges, fell deathly silent in an instant.

Deng Qing immediately withdrew his sword, stepped back, and cupped his hands. "Senior, you let me win."

Li Cheng's face seemed to turn to stone, and his eyes were as wide as bronze bells.

Zhang Bo tossed aside the broken branch and stared at Deng Qing. " 'Settling Solitude's Seven Forms' is famous for being difficult to master. The difficulty has never lain in those seven moves themselves, but in one's vision, state of mind, and grasp of battle opportunities.

"How long have you been practicing this sword technique? And you've already trained it to this level. Naturally, hard work played a part, but more importantly, you truly possess a talent for the sword far beyond that of ordinary people."