He was really only ninth on the Teal List, after all.
Every day he lay in a chair beneath the tree like a handsome ornament. Yang Zhenbing had to bring his meals, Pei Ye had to sweep the courtyard, and he refused invitations to practice swordsmanship together. He knew how to do nothing but order people around.
Yet the moment he took up his sword and stood on the platform, Pei Ye seemed suddenly to see him anew.
His earlier victory over Chu Shuiting was hardly worth mentioning.
Only now, as he crossed swords with Shang Yunning, did the sword in his hand awaken for the first time.
It was not something Pei Ye discerned from any particular move. Rather, the sword sensibility buried within him began to hum in its entirety, excited and trembling, as though he were facing an invincible opponent... no one in this year's Feather-Scale Trial had yet given him this feeling.
Pei Ye watched in a daze, then suddenly said, "He won."
Yang Zhenbing turned. "What?"
The outcome on the platform had already been decided.
Yan Feiqing's longsword rested against Shang Yunning's chest.
He had not broken through Shang Yunning's interlocking sword momentum. He had simply overpowered him. Through all one hundred and seventy-four exchanges, there had been no calculation or flashes of inspiration, only direct confrontation and a deeper level of attainment.
In terms of pure swordsmanship, this was clearly the most solid and profound match of the year so far. Every exchange deserved inclusion in the Dao Initiation Assembly as an example for instruction.
Yan Feiqing sheathed his sword, cutting off Shang Yunning's path to further advancement.
Yan Feiqing returned to his seat and glanced indifferently at the two of them. In tacit agreement, neither Pei Ye nor Yang Zhenbing looked at him.