Ding Songyan looked at Luo Mingyin, seated on a stone stool in the courtyard, and asked after a moment's thought:
"Twelfth Madam, do you practice the 'Emperor's Book'?"
Twelfth Madam Luo had regained her calm, composed air. She nodded lightly.
"Two chapters of the 'Nine Canons.'"
At this, a smile appeared on her face. She looked at Ding Songyan and said:
"If you don't believe me, I can demonstrate..."
Before she had finished speaking, she pulled the heavy hatchet from the half-log in which it was embedded, rose with the motion, took two strides forward, and swung at Ding Songyan from a distance.
In an instant, Ding Songyan saw that this strike sealed off every possible variation. Heaven and earth froze around it, as though they, too, had become his enemies.
It was like mountains collapsing and the earth splitting apart, with nowhere to flee and nowhere to hide.
His grip on his sword hilt visibly tightened, yet he did not draw the blade, as though it weighed as much as the divine pillar that anchored the seas.
He took a step back.
The heavy hatchet pursued him, with almost enough force to carry Mount Tai across the northern sea.
There were no intricate variations to it, yet it drew heaven and earth into its transformation, making every current of energy part of itself and swallowing every possible response whole.
Ding Songyan still did not draw his sword.
As candlelight flickered in his eyes, he took another step back.
The hatchet cleaved heavily downward without pausing, but a subtle change appeared in the momentum of heaven and earth.
Clang!
Cold light flashed as Ding Songyan's sword finally left its sheath.
It passed through the overlapping layers of energy and struck the side of the hatchet with perfect precision.
In an