The spectators had no god's-eye view either. They did not know what had really happened.
The old saying went that hearing was unreliable, while seeing was believing, but that was not necessarily true. Sometimes, what you saw was precisely what someone else wanted you to see.
What they saw was the East Sea Sect refusing to repent, killing someone to silence him, getting caught by Zhang Qingyuan, and trying to kill him too.
In Zhang Qingyuan's previous life, a certain supreme sage and teacher had put it well: the person framing you knew better than you did just how wronged you were.
But wronged or not, Zheng Jianxin had already arrived.
His figure drifted into the arena in an instant, like a wisp of smoke.
His expression was cold, his eyes as still as an ancient well or a deep pool, without the slightest ripple. Facing the furious, surging pressure of the East Sea Sect's sect leader and four elders, he merely raised the elegantly antique longsword in his hand.
"Hmph!"
That trademark soft snort showed he thought nothing of any of them.
The spectators were thrilled. A Sword Immortal was a Sword Immortal indeed! They were all in the Fourth-Rank Realm, and he was facing five alone, yet he remained unruffled in danger and even had room to mock them!
"Zheng Jianxin! Don't get cocky!" Behind Gao Yulong, Fourth Elder Ma Zhengyuan roared and rushed out together with the other three elders.
They had never fought Zheng Jianxin, but the newspapers described him as unmatched in heaven and earth, giving the impression that he was invincible within Fourth Rank and could trade his life for anyone above it.
They knew the newspapers might have exaggerated, but they would have to fight him to learn just how much.
Besides, even that idiot Third Elder among the four had realized that the little bastard surnamed Zhang wanted all of them dead.
Since you won't let us live, let's see just what you're capable of, Zheng Jianxin!
So they attacked with their full strength from the outset. Saber flashes and sword shadows wove a deadly net, fierce Qi churning up the dust as it closed over Zheng Jianxin.
Yet,
Zheng Jianxin seemed not to see this overwhelming offensive.
At the very instant the four men's attacks were about to strike him,
He moved!
His longsword traced a seemingly slow arc, its tip trembling as it faintly drew the surrounding air along with it.
Four Extremes Sword Technique, Azure Dragon Probes the Sea!
"Hmph!"
His voice was not loud, yet it reached every person present with perfect clarity.
As the sword's arc unfurled, an enormous azure dragon over a hundred feet long abruptly formed from sword light.
The four East Sea Sect elders suddenly felt their weapons grow impossibly heavy, as though caught in a mire. Their previously ferocious combined assault was forcibly halted and thrown into disarray by the dragon!
The azure dragon roared. Their violent force scattered outward as though it had struck an invisible wall, making the onlookers' clothes snap in the wind.
"Gasp! This is the strength of the Tianyang Sect's Sword Immortal?" Sharp intakes of breath rose throughout the crowd.
"You're new here, aren't you? Never seen the Tianyang Sword Immortal fight before?"
"My first time, my first time. I've only read about him in the papers before. One against four, yet he struck after them and arrived first, easily breaking their combined assault? This Four Extremes Sword Technique really is terrifying!"
"Did you see that? That one little snort said it all. From the look of him, he hasn't even used his full strength..."
"Terrifying indeed, terrifying indeed."
Ma Zhengyuan and the others' expressions changed drastically. Their attack had been thwarted, leaving them both shocked and furious. The four exchanged glances, crossed positions, and lunged again. This time, the light of their sabers and swords blazed even brighter. Clearly, they intended to kill Zheng Jianxin with a fiercer assault.
We're all Fourth Rank. What gives you the right to show off like this?
An almost imperceptible curve seemed to lift the corner of Zheng Jianxin's mouth-the composure of the strong, tinged with contempt.
His figure suddenly turned illusory, and his longsword erupted with dazzling radiance.
"From-"
His Sword Qi abruptly swelled. The transparent Sword Qi resembled densely packed rays of light, so dazzling that people could not keep their eyes open.
"Beyond heaven-"
The Sword Qi drove the shadows, transforming from white rays into tangible sword blades.
"A flying-"
In that instant, even the air seemed to solidify, and everything around him appeared to stand still.
"Immortal-"
With a long cry, his entire body seemed to become a breathtaking streak of sword light. This was no longer a mortal sword technique, but an exiled immortal descending to earth to deliver a world-shaking blow.
Countless streams of Sword Qi condensed together like a ribbon of silk, like a long rainbow, bearing an otherworldly beauty and danger as they instantly cut into the gaps in the five men's offensive.
Fast! Indescribably fast!
Beautiful! Breathtakingly beautiful!
Ruthless! Ruthless enough to kill in a single strike!
The spectators saw only a blur, followed by an extremely rapid series of metallic clashes.
Clang, clang, clang, clang-!
Sparks flew.
Then came several muffled grunts. Two of the East Sea Sect's four elders staggered backward, their robes slashed open across their chests by Sword Qi, blood seeping through. Had their seasoned experience not allowed them to force a defense at the crucial moment, that sword strike would have killed them!
"Wh-what sword technique is this?" a saber-wielding man murmured, dumbstruck.
"Graceful as a startled swan, supple as a swimming dragon... such swordsmanship belongs only in heaven!" A somewhat scholarly-looking martial wanderer could not help exclaiming, his eyes filled with awe.
"Sword Immortal Zheng! He truly lives up to his name!" On the Tianyang Sect's side, Bian Zhenxuan and the others watched with surging hearts. Had the occasion allowed it, they would almost have cheered aloud. Even the "unconscious" Zhang Qingyuan's eyelids twitched imperceptibly, as though he was extremely satisfied with his second senior brother's effortlessly showy swordsmanship.
All that coaching from Old Third and me wasn't wasted!
In the past, he had thought his second senior brother really was cold and aloof.
But over the years, the two of them had increasingly felt that his aloofness was an act.
Over ten days earlier, on the night Zhang Qingyuan gave him the One Hundred Percent Advancement Pill, he and his third senior brother, Bian Zhenxuan, had cornered Old Second in his room.
Only after taking turns questioning him had they learned the truth behind their second senior brother's showing off.
Zhang Qingyuan had long suspected that he hid a flamboyant streak beneath that reserved exterior. He had first noticed it on the day he succeeded as sect leader and gave him the Bone-Tempering Pill and Minor Rejuvenation Pill.
He remembered giving him the pills and telling him to go out and show off. Old Second had been doing everything in his power to suppress the corners of his mouth.
Now, after questioning him, it turned out he had guessed right.
Bian Zhenxuan had long felt the same way, often catching him muttering strangely to himself.
He had previously assumed he was contemplating martial arts. It turned out the fellow had been rehearsing in his head what sort of entrance would make him look cooler.
Old Second was highly gifted in martial arts and had entered Fourth Rank very early.
But why had he failed to break through for so many years, even after taking Body-Tempering Pills and Minor Rejuvenation Pills?
It was because he did not know what martial path he should follow, or what his domain should be.
As a child, he had seen a Fifth-Rank martial artist wield a spear. With a thrust and a shake, a crimson dragon had emerged, and he had thought spears were cool.
Later, he had seen a Third-Rank saber wielder cut down everything with a single stroke, leaving not a blade of grass alive, and had wanted to use a saber instead.
Still later, after learning martial arts, he had seen swordsmen seal throats with a single strike, their black robes like ink, their white robes like snow, cold as ice, and had thought swords were cool too.
So, from that moment onward, he had decided to become a swordsman.
Other people might practice martial arts to earn money and support their families, repay kindness or seek revenge, strengthen their bodies, or explore the true meaning of martial arts.
But Old Second, Zheng Jianxin!
He did it to show off.
And even now, all his showing off was still imitation.
Whoever looked cool, he imitated.
Yet the figure of that cold-faced swordsman he had seen in his youth remained deeply imprinted in his mind.
As a result, although he had thought of many "paths" to Third Rank and many different styles, he had remained hesitant.
It was only that day, after Zhang Qingyuan and Bian Zhenxuan gave him their advice, that he finally understood what he truly wanted.
Gao Yulong's face was livid, his fists clenched so tightly his nails nearly dug into his flesh. He had never expected Zheng Jianxin to wound two of the four elders so easily despite their combined strength.
Shocked and furious, Gao Yulong felt utterly disgraced and roared, "Form the formation! Trap him until he dies!"
The remaining three uninjured elders linked their presences with his, shifting their footwork as they attempted to form the East Sea Sect's combined battle formation.
But Zheng Jianxin gave them no further chance.
He stood with his sword in hand. The mountain breeze brushed his azure robes, making them snap, yet failed to disturb a single strand of the meticulously arranged black hair at his temples. Slowly, he raised his left hand. His long, jade-like index and middle fingers, their joints distinct, gently brushed the cold spine of his sword. The movement was elegant and intent, as though he were caressing a lover's face or performing some sacred ritual. As his fingertips passed over the antique longsword, it gave a barely audible hum, like ice cracking.
The surrounding clamor, angry shouts, and spectators' discussions all seemed to recede from him in that moment. Slowly, he raised his eyes. Those previously still, well-like eyes now shone with startling brilliance, like two stars fallen into a frigid pool, a flame called "the sword" burning within their chill. His gaze swept over the five men reforming their formation and suddenly sharpened beyond measure, as though piercing the void to reach the essence of things. What it reflected was not living people, but rotten wood about to be severed.
His right hand gripped the hilt steadily as he slowly raised the longsword horizontally before his chest, his movement solemn and grave, bearing a sacrificial devotion. All radiance, all imposing presence, seemed forcibly restrained in that instant, compressed back into the seemingly ordinary blade. The antique longsword became plain and unadorned, yet gave off a sense of extreme danger, as though a sleeping dragon had opened its eyes and would, in the next instant, roar and tear apart everything before it.
Amid that absolute silence and oppression, his thin lips parted slightly. His cool voice was not loud, yet seemed to contain some strange magic, branding itself clearly into every person's mind:
"After this sword, all sounds fall silent!
Sword Qi sweeps thirty thousand miles; one sword's cold light chills nineteen provinces!"
The instant his words fell, his sword had already descended.
"One sword-"
He spoke, his voice icy and utterly devoid of emotion.
"A world apart-"
Before his words had finished, his sword had already descended.
There was no earth-shaking spectacle, no dazzling radiance.
Only a thread of Sword Qi, condensed to the utmost, so fine yet seemingly capable of dividing space, silently cut through the air.
Gao Yulong faced it first. With a furious roar, he poured all his power into his longsword and desperately raised it to block.
Yet-
Riiip!
His longsword of repeatedly refined steel was sliced in two like rotten wood! The fine thread of Sword Qi continued unabated, flashing past his shoulder blade.
Gao Yulong's body suddenly stiffened, his pupils widening, his face full of disbelief. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged. A line of blood slowly extended from the junction of his shoulder and neck. Then blood erupted in a wild spray. He swayed and collapsed to the ground with a thud, his fate unknown.
Even after severing Gao Yulong's longsword and grievously wounding him, that Sword Qi had not fully dissipated. Its remaining sharpness swept over a huge boulder behind him, and a cut as smooth as a mirror silently appeared on its surface!
Silence!
Deathly silence!
Everyone was stunned by that earth-shattering sword strike.
One strike had severed a weapon, wounded a man, and split stone!
What terrifying sword cultivation was this?
The remaining four elders stood frozen, their faces deathly pale, their weapon-bearing hands trembling slightly. They could no longer summon the slightest courage to resist. Ashen-faced and quivering-lipped, they stared at Zheng Jianxin standing sword in hand, his robes fluttering, untouched by a speck of dust. At last, despair and terror appeared in their eyes.
Yet before their terror could end,
Zheng Jianxin shook his treasured sword, shaking countless streams of snow-white Sword Qi from its blade.
Lines of blood appeared on every one of their bodies.
The bloodlines were perfectly straight, swiftly spreading across their entire bodies.
Zheng Jianxin slowly returned his sword to its sheath with a soft click. After that sound, the four elders fell to the ground like scattered cubes of tofu.
Flying Immortal from Beyond Heaven was as swift as lightning. Their bodies had already been sliced apart by Sword Qi, yet no blood appeared.
Only when an outside force intervened would their bodies collapse.
His cool voice sounded again, as brief as ever:
"Thank you all for wishing me entry into Third Rank."
The entire gathering was silent as a flock of crows and sparrows struck dumb. Only the wind moaned, setting off that peerlessly aloof figure from behind.
Zhou Keren of the Tianyang Daily wrote at flying speed, her wrist trembling with excitement, while Ma Xiaowu was already rapidly sketching the splendor of Zheng Jianxin's world-shaking strike in a sketchbook.
Yang Wenxiu drew a deep breath and wrote heavily on the manuscript paper: "The Sword Immortal's wrath: a world-severing sword settles heaven and earth!
A breakthrough in battle-the Tianyang Sect gains another Third-Rank Sword Immortal!"
Zheng Jianxin walked up to Zhang Qingyuan, raised a finger, and sent a strand of True Qi into his body.
"Ugh..."
Zhang Qingyuan slowly opened his eyes and looked at his second senior brother.
"Second Brother!"
Zheng Jianxin gazed at him. "Don't worry. With your second brother here, you'll be protected."
"Mm!"
Old Fourth and Old Fifth hurriedly helped Zhang Qingyuan up.
Old Third walked out step by step without looking back. All the East Sea Sect's experts were dead, and its remaining disciples were at most Fifth or Sixth Rank. Unable to withstand this, they simply put down their sabers and swords as well and went back to pack their belongings, preparing to disband.
Everyone was watching Zheng Jianxin, watching him hold his chest out and his head high.
No one spoke, but countless gazes converged on him. That feeling was strange. He had clearly just slaughtered five opponents of the same rank or even stronger with overwhelming force, his methods fierce and decisive, yet there was not a trace of bloody savagery about him. Instead, there was a kind of... indescribable purity and transcendence.
He had clearly just announced his entry into Third Rank, achieving a breakthrough countless martial artists dreamed of, yet there was no wild joy on his face, only his usual cold severity, as though he had merely done something insignificant.
Yet it was precisely this extreme contrast that formed an invisible field of force.
An old Fifth-Rank swordsman with extensive experience in the martial world instinctively held his breath. In decades of traveling far and wide, he had seen many Third-Rank experts and had even been fortunate enough to glimpse the bearing of a Second-Rank expert from afar.
Those experts had been majestic, domineering, or deep as the sea. But this was his first time seeing someone like Zheng Jianxin.
He was clearly right before their eyes, yet seemed to stand among the clouds. The closer you were to him, the more you felt that unreachable distance-not a physical distance, but a certain... gulf in realm.
That gulf was forged not from killing intent or oppressive might, but from a unique bearing that perfectly blended strength with elegance, coldness with composure. It left people unable to entertain even the slightest thought of comparison, leaving only... the desire to look up to him.
Several younger martial wanderers stared unblinkingly at Zheng Jianxin's back, their chests heaving, their faces flushed with excitement.
They could not understand swordsmanship that profound, but they could feel, in the most immediate way, how "cool" it was! That bearing of taking an enemy's head amid thousands of troops as easily as reaching into a pouch, then brushing off one's robes and departing, concealing both person and fame! Was this not the very image of the martial world they dreamed of?
An almost instinctive adoration and desire to follow him grew wildly in their hearts. They felt that if they could follow behind this man, even merely watching from afar, they too would share in his glory.
On the Tianyang Sect's side, Bian Zhenxuan watched his second junior brother's back, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
In a voice only their own people could hear, he muttered to the newly "awakened" Zhang Qingyuan, "Old Seventh, have you noticed? Old Second's showing off... is getting smoother and more natural. It used to feel a little deliberate, but now... it's fucking become instinct."
Zhang Qingyuan rubbed his chest, which did not actually hurt, and looked at his second senior brother's back, which seemed to come with its own spotlight. He replied quietly, "I can feel it... hasn't Second Brother just broken through to Third Rank? He's finally found his own 'Dao' and cultivated that 'Dao' into a domain!
Our lesson that day wasn't wasted!"
"Mm, you're right." Old Third first agreed, then hesitated before commenting, "But I still think his way of showing off isn't quite polished enough."
"He's a beginner. There's still room to improve. I'll arrange some more grand spectacles for him later and try to get him to Second Rank as soon as possible."
What was Old Second's Dao?
Just as the spectators' reactions showed, his Dao was not any form of the sword Dao or martial Dao.
Rather, it was an entirely new Dao of Showing Off.
Yes, that was what Zhang Qingyuan had summed it up as.
Don't you like showing off?
Then show off. Any sword art, any Dao of the sword-all fell within your domain.
Some cultivated the emotionless Dao of the sword to deliver an absolute killing blow.
Some cultivated the affectionate Dao of the sword to protect.
Some cultivated the Dao of lightning to gain insight.
Some cultivated the Dao of yin and yang to achieve balance.
But whatever the path, whatever personal domain it produced, the purpose was to defeat one's opponents more effectively.
The same held true for Old Third's Dao of Showing Off.
As long as I look cool enough and feel good enough showing off, no one can defeat me within my domain!
Simply put, the better he felt, the stronger he became.
What was showing off for?
To look cool.
Then what was looking cool for?
For other people to see, of course!
So, once his domain unfolded, the cooler others thought he looked and the more importance they attached to him, the better he felt.
The better he felt, the larger his domain grew, and the more powerful his moves became.
As the saying went, the Great Dao had three thousand paths, boundless and endless.
There was also an old saying: among the three hundred and sixty trades, every trade produced its own champion.
Although Li Moran, Bai Shuyan, and the others did not know the inside story as Bian Zhenxuan and Zhang Qingyuan did.
As they looked at Zheng Jianxin now, however, an inexplicable pride rose in their hearts: This is exactly how my senior brother should be. At the same time, they vaguely felt that their second senior brother seemed to have acquired an indescribable quality that made him more... well... eye-catching, making people involuntarily place their faith in him, and even want to emulate him.
Yang Wenxiu drew a deep breath, suppressed the shock in his heart, and wrote anew on his draft paper: "A sword immortal's wrath-a sword spanning lifetimes settles heaven and earth! Enlightenment in battle-a Third Rank 'sword domain' astounds the world!"
He vaguely sensed that Zheng Jianxin had broken through not merely in cultivation realm, but into a unique martial domain that overwhelmed others with "momentum."
Feeling the countless gazes behind him, mingled with awe, worship, and shock, and listening to the almost tangible silence, Zheng Jianxin's heart was utterly calm, even carrying a trace of fulfilled exhilaration.
It worked!
His Dao did not lie in imitating any particular swordsman, nor in pursuing any particular sword intent. His Dao lay in this very moment-showing off to the utmost, exerting an invisible influence.
As long as he felt it was cool enough, satisfying enough, and breathtaking enough, then his sword was the strongest sword, and his Dao was the Dao that suited him best.
On this Dao of Showing Off that he had forged for himself, he was the one and only king!
Anyone who stepped into this invisible "domain" of his would naturally be won over by the presence he had so carefully crafted, looking up to him and wishing to follow him.
This was his, Zheng Jianxin's, Dao of the Third Rank!
Old Third sidled up to Zhang Qingyuan and, looking at the outwardly reserved but secretly showy Second Brother ahead, who was hopelessly engrossed in enjoying everyone's attention, said:
"So today's whole batch of dumplings was made just for that little dish of vinegar of his again, wasn't it?"
Zhang Qingyuan said with a smile, "You know me well, Third Brother."