Chapter 42

A flash of the blade, and the outcome was already decided.

Shen Lian naturally would not lose to Sword Fourteen. His sword had already broken in two, along with the destruction of Sword Fourteen's yet-to-be-formed sword intent.

Without defeating the opponent's sword intent, there was no need for it to exist.

Destruction was for the sake of rebirth.

But no one knew if Sword Fourteen could still give birth to a more powerful sword intent.

He knelt on the ground, in the snow. Some of the snow had melted, but more of it had not, turning into ice.

The ice in the soil made the land as hard as fine iron.

Sword Fourteen had not practiced any martial arts like Iron Claw, but his hands dug into the cold, hard soil, quickly forming a bloody little pit, which was his own blood. His nails had already peeled back, the flesh and blood inside mixed with the soil.

Finally, he placed the sword in the soil, burying the short sword, and then helped Sword Thirteen up, retreating to a distance.

Shen Lian's clothes had a tear, right at the heart, a small inch-long cut. It was not cut by the sword's edge but by the sword aura that had not fully formed.

"Your blade has already been drawn, but you haven't seen my sword yet. Do you still want to continue opposing me?" If it were other martial artists, like the Golden Saber Wang, or even the green-robed man who had seen Shen Lian's blade technique, they would subconsciously admit their inferiority and lose confidence.

But Ye Liuyun showed no fear at all. Not only because he knew how formidable the opponent was, but also because the opponent's strength was halved.

What truly made one feel terrified was the unknown, and Ye Liuyun's sword was the unknown.

No living person had ever seen his sword, and today would be no exception.

Shen Lian stared at Ye Liuyun, very calm.

His calmness was not superficial but came from within.

"How did you know I only have one blade?" Shen Lian laughed lightly.

This time, he completely threw away the blade, throwing it at Ye Liuyun, who caught it with two fingers.

The force of this throw was not heavy, nor was the angle tricky. Ye Liuyun would definitely not miss it.

Ye Liuyun put down the blade, his gaze never leaving Shen Lian, because he would not give Shen Lian any chance, so he would not be careless.

Because his gaze never left Shen Lian, he saw that Shen Lian indeed had more than one blade, or rather, this was his true blade.

A uniquely shaped throwing knife.

The last ray of the sunset faded, and the moon took over, generously casting its clear light.

Ye Liuyun and Shen Lian stared at each other for a full fifteen minutes. The tense atmosphere made everyone around them dare not breathe deeply.

Ye Liuyun focused on Shen Lian's hand, the hand that held the throwing knife.

Shen Lian, however, focused on Ye Liuyun's left sleeve.

The same evening breeze blew, but the left sleeve always had a bit more hesitation than the right.

"Do you know where my sword is, right?" Shen Lian said with confidence, a confidence that should have belonged to Ye Liuyun.

"Yes." Ye Liuyun had to admit Shen Lian's keen observation and sharp eyesight.

His sword technique was the sleeve sword, and the hidden weapon was just a means. The sword technique was his true love and the legacy of the Famous Sword Manor.

Even when using the golden needle hidden weapon, he used the sword technique's power technique.

He was disdainful of using a sword against Bai Yufei, otherwise, Bai Yufei would not have lived this long.

"You can't figure out when I will throw my blade, right?" Shen Lian said with a contented smile.

"Of course." Ye Liuyun said calmly.

"Then have you lost?" Shen Lian's eyes shone brighter, surpassing the brilliance of the stars.

"No." Ye Liuyun said slowly.

He could not figure out Shen Lian's blade, and similarly, Shen Lian could not figure out his sword.

Sword Fourteen's gaze fell on the two of them, his enthusiasm impossible to hide.

No one present understood the subtleties between the two better than he did.

Shen Lian had not been able to draw his blade because his spirit had not reached the critical point, the best opportunity to draw the blade.

This opportunity might appear at any time, or it might never appear.

Whether to act or not was up to Shen Lian's will, but once he acted, the outcome would not be under his control.

So Shen Lian needed the best opportunity.

Because the throwing knife was not just a hidden weapon; it also carried his spirit and energy.

If the first strike missed, there would be no second chance.

"Do you know that you are already bound to lose, because I have caught your weakness?" Shen Lian said calmly.

To Sword Fourteen, it was like a thunderclap. He suddenly realized what Ye Liuyun's weakness was.

Ye Liuyun's weakness was his overconfidence, confident that he could dodge Shen Lian's throwing knife and that the sleeve sword could deal with Shen Lian.

But he had never thought about one thing: was Shen Lian's reliance really just the throwing knife?

Shen Lian flew up, and the flagpole in front of the inn hung with lanterns.

Shen Lian was on the lantern, close to the moon.

There was one Shen Lian in the sky and one on the ground.

Shen Lian's spirit had left his body and reached the sky, and also reached a dead end.

But the military strategy says, "High ground is advantageous," and Shen Lian had already taken the high ground.

Even Ye Liuyun could not have predicted that Shen Lian had cultivated to the point where his spirit could leave his body, even though he had not yet connected the Ren and Du meridians.

The difficulty of leaving the body was more than ten times harder than connecting the Ren and Du meridians.

At Shen Lian's age, to cultivate his internal energy to such a level was already astonishing, let alone other aspects.

******

In the south of the capital, there was a dilapidated Taoist temple.

Ling Chongxiao lived there, and at this moment, he was under the same moon as Shen Lian.

He still had a bald head; he was a real Taoist and a fake monk.

In front of him was a short-haired man, who was a real monk.

"Kuhui, are you just looking for something to do, coming to challenge me?" Ling Chongxiao yawned, looking extremely sleepy.

"The poor monk has just thought of a powerful palm technique, and I couldn't help but come to test it with Brother Ling."

Ling Chongxiao glanced at Kuhui and said lazily, "Don't think that just because you've mastered the Vajra Body Technique, I can't kill you."

"If Brother Ling could kill me, that would be great. In the next cycle, I might just catch the opportunity for immortality and wouldn't have to be a monk anymore." Kuhui said cheerfully.

"The Buddhist path is broad and accessible to all, better than those immortal sects. What's there to envy?" Ling Chongxiao said with a hint of jealousy.

"Then why don't you join our Buddhist path?"

"I'm just being stubborn. What can you do about it?" Ling Chongxiao cursed, though he disdained the immortal sects, his greatest wish in life was to join one. Unfortunately, even if he found one, they would still ignore him due to lack of opportunity.

Although the Buddhist path is open to all, how many truly become Buddhas? Not to mention instant enlightenment, even achieving the status of an Arhat is rare.

On the contrary, in the immortal sects, although the number of people is small, the proportion of those who achieve success is much higher than in the Buddhist path.

In the end, although the Buddhist path emphasizes no reliance on written words and enlightenment from the heart, the requirements for talent are actually much higher than in the immortal sects.

Without wisdom, even with good roots, one cannot become a Buddha.

PS: I'm really not feeling well, I've even vomited bile. I'll update more when I feel better tomorrow.

Page flip AD starts

Page flip AD ends