The higher he looked, the loftier it grew; the deeper he bored, the harder it became. He saw it ahead, then suddenly it was behind.
What stood before him no longer seemed to be two streaks of swordlight, but two full moons. Whenever he thought he had drawn a little closer, he steadied his gaze and found them still hanging high in the distant night sky.
The more gifted a swordsman was, the more he could savor the intoxicating beauty of such a pursuit. Pei Ye had indeed lost himself in it repeatedly, but it brought him none of the joy of "hearing the Way."
His body was growing colder, bit by bit.
Facing the seventeen-year-old Ming Qitian, Pei Ye had never imagined he could defeat her. Over their days together, he had already truly felt her breadth, vast as mountains and seas.
But he had never imagined... that such an abyss could exist.
He had thought that if he gave everything he had, he would always have a chance of blocking one strike. He did, after all, possess the Snowy Night Flying Goose Sword Form. Whatever happened, the woman would have to spare a strike to deal with it.
She could break his move and pierce his throat with that single strike-once Ming Yun gained the advantage of that opening, she would surely win anyway.
But the scene before him was something he had never imagined.
An earlier start in swordsmanship, more extraordinary talent, a more perfect education... the gulf created by those three advantages was far greater than he had thought.
-If he could not even understand what he saw, how could he speak of striking?
He believed that once he aimed his sword at the woman, he would have only one chance to strike.
He had no