Intervention

News of the sparring matches swiftly spread through the training ground, and everyone rubbed their hands together eagerly.

Here in Bright Martial Hall, aside from the Lesser Violet Sun Technique, they all practiced supreme martial arts suited to themselves, each possessing remarkable skills.

In terms of cultivation, Chu Zhiting and Chu Zhichuan were the strongest, followed by the Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, and now perhaps Chu Zhiyuan could be added to that list.

But they were all in the Postnatal Realm. There was no overwhelming advantage in realm; victory or defeat depended on one's performance in the moment. Sometimes, a single move behind decided the outcome.

You might win this time, yet I might win next time. Everyone had a chance to claim first place, and few people ever held the title twice in a row.

Thus, none of them were convinced of the others' superiority. They all wanted to display their skills and seize the top spot in one stroke.

Chu Zhiyuan held a book in his hands and shook his head with a smile.

He had already figured out the temperaments of these princes and heirs apparent.

Though they had been born into wealth and status, living within the imperial palace—the greatest arena of fame and profit in the world—they were not as scheming and calculating as he had imagined.

After all, they were young and hot-blooded, at the age when they strove to outdo one another. Such instincts could not be suppressed.

The Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, especially loved excitement.

This time, he wanted to weigh his own abilities. The others were the same; they all wanted to see what he was truly made of.

This would also determine how they treated him in the future.

So it would be best if he could subdue them all.

After browsing several manuals from the highest and second-highest tiers, Chu Zhiyuan stopped reading them and instead focused on the martial arts notes.

To others, these martial arts notes were profound and unfathomable, even utter nonsense.

Thanks to his Super Sensation, his understanding of heaven and earth was clear and profound, his observation of himself meticulous down to the smallest detail, and his impressions of the martial arts notes entirely different.

In just half a day, he felt as though he had opened a great door and beheld a new world.

He had gained unprecedentedly profound insights into martial arts, heaven and earth, and himself.

This was a depth he could almost never have reached alone. Without the accumulated wisdom of tens of thousands of years, it would have been difficult for a single person's understanding to attain it.

Once one's understanding changed, one's state of mind changed, and heaven and earth changed with it.

With the same move, the deeper one's understanding, the more fully one could grasp the wonders of every variation. One could execute it with greater flexibility and ease, achieving perfect precision and subtlety down to the finest hair.

Cultivation would also yield twice the result with half the effort, advancing by leaps and bounds.

In a short time, he had gained different insights into the Lesser Violet Sun Technique, the Jade Lock Golden Pass Technique, the Within Reach, Yet Worlds Apart Step, and the Great Avalanche Sword Art.

A calm composure arose within him, as though he stood high above and saw everything clearly in the palm of his hand.

"Knock, knock." A knock sounded at the door.

Chu Zhiyuan looked up.

The Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, stood in the doorway. His brawny body was wrapped in a bright yellow martial outfit, and he wore a broad smile. "Fourth Son, the sparring is about to begin! Hurry up!"

Chu Zhiyuan returned the martial arts notes left behind by the previous generation's grandmaster, Hu Jing.

Chu Mingxuan said, "Fourth Son, you're ready, right?"

Chu Zhiyuan walked up to him. "Eighteenth Uncle, I think I'll pass. I won't participate this time. I'd rather not make a fool of myself for now."

"Don't be like that!... You can't just bury your head in training all day. You need to spar regularly; it has plenty of benefits. This is a rare opportunity!"

"..." Chu Zhiyuan merely smiled without speaking.

"Fourth Son, don't you want my treasured sword?" Chu Mingxuan said with a grin. "I got it from a cave mansion. It's anything but ordinary."

"Eighteenth Uncle hasn't found out where it came from?"

"I like saber arts. I don't have the patience to study that sword. In any case, it's definitely extraordinary. It must have some hidden marvels."

"The remarkable arts and secret techniques in Bright Martial Hall are enough for us to practice."

"Heh, you Fourth Son, you're like a little old man. No curiosity, no vigor at all. Hurry up, quit babbling!" Chu Mingxuan waved a hand. "Come on, come on."

As they spoke, everyone watched them closely.

"Eighteenth Son!" Chu Qingfeng snorted.

Chu Mingxuan chuckled. "Thirteenth Uncle, you can't be too biased. We all want to know just how capable Fourth Son really is!"

"Right, right, let us have a look."

"Great-Uncle can't be too biased."

Everyone chimed in.

Chu Zhiyuan stepped onto the stairs and clasped his fists with a smile. "Since that is the case, then I shall make a fool of myself."

"That's more like it!" Chu Mingxuan gave Chu Zhiyuan's shoulder a hard slap. "Let's go!"

Chu Zhiyuan went down the steps alongside Chu Mingxuan and stood among the crowd.

With Chu Zhiyuan included, there were thirteen people in Bright Martial Hall altogether.

Three princes and ten heirs apparent.

Among the three princes, the Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, was the oldest. The other two were younger, and their aptitudes were unremarkable, almost like background figures.

Among the ten heirs apparent, aside from Chu Zhiyuan, two of the remaining nine stood out the most: Chu Zhiting and Chu Zhichuan. The others were likewise almost background figures.

Such were the rules of this world: the strong were honored, while no one listened when the weak spoke.

This competition was the best chance to show themselves and strengthen their sense of presence. Every one of them rubbed his hands together in excitement.

Since there were few people, there was no need for so many formalities. They would fight in pairs, with the winners advancing to the next round.

Round after round, until a single victor emerged.

This time, with Chu Zhiyuan joining, there were thirteen people. Chu Mingxuan therefore suggested that they select one person who would only need to fight the final victor for the championship.

"Ninth Son has already taken first place several times, so let it be him." Chu Mingxuan pointed at Chu Zhiting, then looked at Chu Zhichuan. "Tenth Brother, I suppose this means you'll have to suffer a little."

Chu Zhiting's handsome face remained taut, but the corners of his mouth curved upward, unable to hide his pride.

Chu Zhichuan stood tall and slender, handsome yet cold. "Eighteenth Uncle, why don't Ninth Brother and I fight first? Whoever loses can sit this one out."

Chu Zhiting's burly body stepped forward, and he glared at Chu Zhichuan. "Tenth Brother, come on!"

Chu Zhichuan rested a hand on his sword hilt.

Chu Zhiting narrowed his tiger-like eyes.

The two were on the verge of erupting.

Chu Qingfeng waved a hand. "Enough. We'll still do a round-robin. Everyone fights everyone else. The four with the most victories will then pair off and compete to decide the winner."

"That's good." Chu Mingxuan clapped his hands and laughed. "We'll do as Thirteenth Uncle says!"

He looked at Chu Zhiyuan. "Fourth Son, how about you and I have the first match?"

"Please instruct me, Eighteenth Uncle."

Chu Zhiyuan withdrew his gaze from Chu Zhiting and Chu Zhichuan. They were still glaring at one another, their fighting intent soaring.

"I won't show mercy, so be careful!"

With a grin, Chu Mingxuan walked to the center of the training ground.

"Eighteenth Uncle, catch." A youth lifted a wooden saber from the weapon rack and tossed it to Chu Mingxuan.

Chu Mingxuan reached out and caught it, then casually spun the saber in a flourish and smiled at Chu Zhiyuan.

Chu Zhiyuan first went to the weapon rack and selected a wooden sword.

The wooden sword felt weighty, its weight no different from that of a real sword. By touch alone, one might have thought it was a genuine sword, like an Azure Edge Sword wrapped in a wooden sheath.

Everyone immediately made room, their eyes shining as they stared unblinking at the field.

They all wanted to see Chu Zhiyuan's true caliber. Was he truly as formidable as Chu Qingfeng claimed, or did he merely possess cultivation without Martial Skill?

They guessed that his Martial Skill was ordinary.

After all, they had heard Chu Zhiyuan say that he wanted to find a movement technique. Clearly, the movement technique he had practiced before was not top-tier.

Even if he had found a top-tier movement technique, he might not have had enough time to master it. He certainly could not use it properly yet.

They guessed that he must have struggled and worked hard in an environment like that of a prisoner, devoting himself wholeheartedly to cultivating the Lesser Violet Sun Technique. That was how he had attained Perfected Houtian.

Chu Zhiyuan formed a sword gesture with his left hand and lightly ran it along the wooden sword's guard, blade, and tip. Feeling its grain, weight, and texture, he smiled. "Eighteenth Uncle, I practice the fast sword. If I offend you, please do not take it amiss."

"Fourth Son, that's quite a boast. Less nonsense—make your move!"

Chu Mingxuan shook his long saber, widened his eyes, and his bearing instantly transformed.

In a moment, the smiling Maitreya Buddha became a wrathful Vajra, exuding a savage and violent aura, as though one stroke of his saber could cleave apart mountains and rivers and split the earth.

Countless manuals flashed through Chu Zhiyuan's mind. For the moment, he could not determine which saber art it was, so he extended his senses outward.

The next instant, every movement of everyone around him appeared clearly in his mind, especially Chu Mingxuan's expression and movements.

He could clearly sense the changes in Chu Mingxuan's muscles. The legs beneath his martial outfit had already tensed, an indistinct current of qi gathered at the yongquan points, the muscles in his legs shifted minutely, the hand gripping the saber turned slightly sideways, and of the two tendons at his wrist, one bulged while the other drew inward.

Realization dawned on Chu Zhiyuan: he was about to lunge to the right and slash to the left.

"Hah! Take this!"

With a sharp shout, Chu Mingxuan slashed forward. The saber streaked across the air like a bolt of silk.

"What a Demon Subduing Saber Art!"

"Excellent saber art!"

Everyone could not help crying out, awestruck by that blade strike, complete in spirit and force.

Bang!

With a sudden muffled impact, the saber's shadow vanished.

Chu Mingxuan's forward rush halted abruptly. His body tilted, and he staggered two steps ahead, propping himself up with his saber as his left hand clutched his chest and he coughed violently without end.

"Cough, cough, cough, cough..."

His face flushed red as though he were drunk, as though it had been caused by the coughing, yet not entirely by the coughing.

Chu Zhiyuan withdrew his sword and held it reversed behind his elbow, then clasped his fists apologetically. "Eighteenth Uncle, forgive me. Are you all right?"

Everyone stood stunned, blinking hard.

They desperately recalled what they had just seen, trying to figure out how Chu Zhiyuan had drawn his sword, yet they simply had not seen it clearly.

That astonishing saber strike had seized their attention, causing them to overlook Chu Zhiyuan's sword.

Chu Zhiyuan's right hand seemed to have twitched.

The sword seemed merely to have moved once, yet it also seemed to have thrust out and withdrawn.

It had been too fast to see clearly.

Chu Mingxuan's coughing gradually subsided. His plump face slowly returned to normal. He exhaled a breath of turbid air, straightened up, and glared at Chu Zhiyuan.

"Eighteenth Uncle..." Chu Zhiyuan clasped his fists again apologetically.

Chu Mingxuan lowered the hand covering his chest, displeasure lingering in his heart. "Fourth Son, you're quite something!"

Chu Zhiyuan smiled. "Eighteenth Uncle was unprepared. I only won by taking advantage."

"Cut it out. I wasn't underestimating you!"

Chu Mingxuan touched the spot above his tanzhong acupoint. It still ached faintly. The sword had missed the tanzhong acupoint by only a little; otherwise, he would have fainted on the spot. Chu Zhiyuan had clearly shown mercy.

He turned his head. "Ninth Son, you go!"