SS CH105

This was the first time Chu Xiwei had seen Shen Wuduan’s weapon.

The two entered the small pine forest behind the courtyard and stood in a clearing. Shen Wuduan reached into his robes and pulled out a pair of gloves.

They were entirely like dark night ice silk, so thin and light they felt like nothing. Covering his hands from the fingers down to the wrists, Shen Wuduan put on the gloves and said to Chu Xiwei, “Draw your blade.”

Chu Xiwei’s hand grasped the hilt of the Duanshui Blade. In the next moment, Shen Wuduan only felt his vision blur; without seeing the blade drawn or hearing it ring, its edge was already pressing toward his face, completely silent.

Shen Wuduan shifted his feet, evading the sharp edge in the nick of time. His right hand reached out and pinched the blade. As the blade’s edge scraped against the glove, it actually produced the sharp sound of clashing metal and stone. At the same time, he bent his left elbow and struck directly at Chu Xiwei’s armpit.

Unflustered, Chu Xiwei seized the opening to block with his left hand, grabbing Shen Wuduan’s elbow while simultaneously raising a leg to kick at his knee. Shen Wuduan shifted his stance again. Just as the two were about to be deadlocked together, they both released their grip simultaneously.

Shen Wuduan was like a ghost; retreating rapidly, he abruptly doubled back, closing in on Chu Xiwei in an instant. This time, his flattened palm slashed like a blade past the side of Chu Xiwei’s neck. Although the latter retreated in time, upon stabilizing his stance, he felt a faint trace of coldness slide down. Reaching up to touch it, his fingertip came away with a smear of blood-red.

The side of his neck that had been grazed was cut open with a long, narrow slit. It was only a superficial skin wound, barely counting as an injury, but it was extremely close to a major artery.

His gaze fell upon Shen Wuduan’s hands, and only then did he notice the peculiarity of the gloves. On the outer edge of both palms was a thin, short blade, identical in color to the rest of the glove, making them incredibly difficult to spot at a glance. One would only realize their existence after the blade tasted blood.

Shen Wuduan wasn’t in a rush to pursue either. He touched his own chest; the clothing there had been sliced open, bearing the exact mark of a piercing knife strike.

In that split second, as he launched a lethal strike, Chu Xiwei had also thrust his knife. If Chu Xiwei had been a step faster or Shen Wuduan a fraction more ruthless, it might have ended with one having their throat sealed by blood and the other pierced through the heart.

However, Shen Wuduan had held back seventy percent of his strength, and Chu Xiwei had only exerted thirty percent.

Both men smirked simultaneously. Pushing off the ground, they closed in on each other again. Knife and the palm-blade clashed, producing a rapid series of sharp clangs but no flying blood.

Both were masters of the Hundred Ghosts Sect, and both cultivated the Qilu Jing. Although they lacked the formal title of Shifu and disciple, they shared the bond of father and son. In this spar, though they held back their strength, they didn’t hold back their moves; there was no worry of life and death, but there was a struggle of life and death. In comparison, Chu Xiwei’s foundation in internal energy and his combat experience were slightly inferior, but he excelled in flexibility, agile footwork, and swift techniques. Moreover, having just made a breakthrough in his state of mind, his previous impatience had largely dissipated. Attacking and defending properly, advancing and retreating with measure, he made it quite difficult for Shen Wuduan to maintain the upper hand.

Chu Xiwei’s every move was fierce; Shen Wuduan dismantled every attack as they came. The more they entangled, the harder they fought; the more they struggled, the stronger they became. After exchanging blows and stalemating for over a hundred rounds, their eyes met mid-clash. The blade struck like sudden thunder, its momentum as heavy as a mountain. In a flash, blade and palm met again. Chu Xiwei’s blade pressed down toward Shen Wuduan’s shoulder and neck, while Shen Wuduan’s palms clamped down on the blade.

Chu Xiwei frowned, his wrist shaking as he tried to use vibrating force to force Shen Wuduan’s hands away. Unexpectedly, Shen Wuduan’s palms remained immovable, and his blade couldn’t budge an inch. Both sides’ internal energy deadlocked on the Duanshui Blade, like a long river rolling with massive waves, surging intensely before leveling out.

Chu Xiwei’s internal energy was fiercer and more unyielding than Shen Wuduan’s, yet it was now being controlled by a soft, yielding force. Just as he felt shocked, Shen Wuduan’s palms slid and shifted, separating the Duanshui Blade from his grasp.

The moment the blade sank into the ground, Shen Wuduan gripped Chu Xiwei’s pulse with one hand and pressed a palm against his Dantian. Internal energy pierced through from both points. Chu Xiwei’s face instantly paled, but instead of rushing to resist, he released his own internal energy, allowing Shen Wuduan’s internal energy to carefully travel through and explore his meridians.

Shen Wuduan’s lips curled up, but cold sweat slowly seeped from his forehead.

Between the sixth and seventh levels of the Qilu Jing was a massive bottleneck. Crossing this hurdle meant reaching the vast sea and open sky, but failing meant stagnating for a lifetime. Chu Xiwei’s natural talent was excellent, and he could endure extreme hardship; logically, he should have been able to pass this hurdle steadily. Unfortunately, he was too stubborn and single-minded. From the very beginning of cultivating the Qilu Jing, he had taken the wrong path.

Over the past two years, watching him strategize and command, Shen Wuduan had truly acknowledged him as his successor in his heart, and thus became concerned about the hidden dangers within his body. He had secretly contacted Sun Minfeng, preparing to cripple his martial arts. But a few days ago, when Chu Xiwei was knocked unconscious by Duanqing and brought back, Shen Wuduan stepped in to comb through his true qi and discovered some clues.

The two streams of internal energy from the Jinghong Art and the Qilu Jing were fundamentally entangled within Chu Xiwei’s body. From time to time, they would act up and cause chaos, disrupting his mind and internal breath. That was why Shen Wuduan had given him the Ice Soul Pearl, using its extreme coldness to forcefully calm his mind and qi. Logically, having lost the Ice Soul Pearl, Chu Xiwei’s internal breath should be unstable, his mind restless, and his internal energy should have become much more volatile. Shen Wuduan had originally thought this little brat had already stepped through the gates of qi deviation.

This was indeed the case, but not entirely so.

Chu Xiwei’s aura was indeed much more restless, even carrying the risk of violently losing control. However, the hidden injuries and blockages that had accumulated in his body over the years had actually begun to repair themselves during this time.

Although martial artists strengthened their muscles and bodies, fighting and surviving in the Jianghu by licking blood from their blades meant external and internal injuries stacked up like patches. No matter how well the patches were sewn, it was still a damaged body; it might be fine normally, but given a specific trigger, it would leak air.

Shen Wuduan was advanced in age. Even though he now held a high position and enjoyed the finest food and clothing, the hidden injuries accumulated in his early years had begun to show as his organs, bones, and flesh aged. These were indelible pains left by time. Even Sun Minfeng could only carefully condition his body on the basis of preventing deterioration. Therefore, Shen Wuduan rarely fought in recent years; though called “concealing one’s strengths and biding one’s time,” it was mostly just recuperation.

Compared to him, although Chu Xiwei was young and had a good foundation, the past ten years had not been smooth sailing. Even with Shen Wuduan secretly watching over him, it was still incredibly perilous. Since he was a half-grown teenager, this kid possessed a ruthless tenacity of not giving up even if he smashed his head against the south wall. Not only did he forcefully dual-cultivate despite knowing the internal dangers, but he also never showed fear during training spars or lethal missions. This was why Shen Wuduan described him as “showing all his sharp edges.”

One must know that in this world, extreme intelligence inevitably leads to injury, deep affection leads to a short life, and excessive rigidity makes one easily broken.

Shen Wuduan had always had a headache over how to make Chu Xiwei “soften” up. It was human nature for young people to be competitive, but if he didn’t even leave any leeway, he would inevitably be forced onto a single-plank bridge in the future, ultimately falling into a bottomless abyss.

Yet, after just one trip outside, Chu Xiwei had actually changed.

His bearing remained fierce, but he now possessed a bit more vitality. Though his joy and anger were still not easily shown, at least he no longer constantly wore a mask of cold distance. When intentionally teased, he would even throw a small temper tantrum like a brash young boy.

However, it wasn’t the childishness of regressing with age, but rather a mature magnanimity. He had simply learned to stop forcefully suppressing himself, beginning to appropriately vent his emotions.

Therefore, when Shen Wuduan examined his internal energy, he found that the previously blocked points in his meridians had actually loosened their restraints. The blocked true qi had begun to flow smoothly. Although it would erupt with emotional instability and fluctuating internal breath, if he could survive this hurdle, these accumulated hidden injuries would also be soothed due to the clearing of the meridians. Then, prescribing the right medicine would truly cure the root of the problem.

At the time, although Shen Wuduan had been shocked to see Duanqing and experienced major emotional fluctuations himself, upon discovering this anomaly in Chu Xiwei’s body, he quickly gathered his wits. Turning a few thoughts over in his mind, he eventually cast a glance at Ye Fusheng, who was watching with bated breath.

At that glance, he almost burst out laughing right then and there.

Perhaps Ye Fusheng himself hadn’t noticed at the time; as Shen Wuduan combed through Chu Xiwei’s true qi, Ye Fusheng’s face remained completely expressionless, but his eyes were fixed unblinkingly, and his hands were clenched into tight fists. When Shen Wuduan feigned a frown, the aura around Ye Fusheng immediately grew heavy.

His whole heart and all his eyes were filled with concern for one person.

Precisely because of this, Shen Wuduan, who had planned to forcefully cripple half of Chu Xiwei’s internal energy right then and there, changed his mind.

After all, to a martial artist, internal martial arts are the foundation of all combat power. After crippling the Jinghong Art, with Chu Xiwei’s talent and the Hundred Ghosts Sect’s support, he would definitely be able to rapidly improve himself again in a short time, but doing so would ultimately be too cruel.

Aside from the physical trauma of crippling his martial arts, there was also the psychological blow to Chu Xiwei.

Shen Wuduan had only planned to do so because there was no other way. But seeing Chu Xiwei’s mindset shift because he met this person—although it triggered the internal energy risks, it also provided another choice. Ultimately, the joy outweighed the worry.

However, the little brat had the personality of a clam. If he wasn’t given a good beating, he would definitely keep his mouth shut until death.

Shen Wuduan figured he was an adoptive father, after all. Seeing that his granddaughter Qin Lanshang had already set her sights on a dull scholar early on, it made no sense to be biased and ignore his adoptive son who was in the prime of his life. Therefore, even though Duanqing was present at the time, he used a line of sound directed specifically into Chu Xiwei’s ear: “You only have one life, and only one chance. Don’t make yourself regret it.”

Although Chu Xiwei had his eyes closed and remained motionless at the time, he wasn’t actually in a true coma. After a brief faint, he had half-awakened, but he was entirely occupied with fighting the chaotic true qi in his body, lacking the strength to open his eyes and look outside.

Duanqing heard this sentence, and naturally, Chu Xiwei heard it too.

Fortunately, Duanqing still possessed that nature of letting things run their natural course. Unless a situation became unsalvageable, he allowed the younger generation to make their own choices, remaining silent and motionless. Meanwhile, as he was being helped out the door by Ye Fusheng, Chu Xiwei quietly opened his eyes and locked gazes with Shen Wuduan for an instant.

Later, he rapidly transformed from a domineering superior into the composed, masterful manipulator he was today.

Shen Wuduan was extremely gratified by this. Sending his internal energy circulating once through Chu Xiwei’s body to ascertain the condition of several vital acupoints, he then guided Chu Xiwei’s internal energy into his own body, saying, “Focus your mind and calm your qi, and observe things clearly on my end.”

Martial artists never easily open their Dantian and meridians to others, because once exposed, it is easy to be controlled. Chu Xiwei could be completely honest with Shen Wuduan firstly because he was his adoptive son, making it a matter of course; secondly, because Shen Wuduan played an indispensable role in making him who he was today, and he had nothing to hide from him.

However, he hadn’t expected Shen Wuduan to proactively draw his internal energy to explore his own Dantian.

His heart stirring and his eyes growing hot, Chu Xiwei split off a thread of internal energy as instructed. Following Shen Wuduan’s guidance, he explored the flow of his true qi, from the Dantian to his limbs and bones, and then through the Eight Extraordinary Meridians. Only after a long while did both of them withdraw their hands.

Shen Wuduan asked, “Did you understand?”

Chu Xiwei replied, “Yifu’s path is similar to mine, but different.”

“I use the Qilu Jing as a foundation, assimilating the techniques of a hundred schools for my own use. It is a path where ‘the sea embraces all rivers, and all paths lead to the same destination’.” Shen Wuduan smiled. “But you are different. You use the Jinghong Art as your base, the Qilu Jing as your root, and then study the martial arts of others. It is a path of ‘taking a two-pronged approach and adapting to changing circumstances’.”

Chu Xiwei frowned. Shen Wuduan patiently explained, “Think of it this way: I was originally a massive crater, and numerous streams of water poured into it to form a lake. Whether it’s mountain springs or muddy water, they all mix in, indistinguishable between clear and murky, and ultimately they all belong to me… But you are a sapling that took root and sprouted, finally managing to grow. The various internal energies added to your body are like sunlight, dew, wind blades, and frost swords. Under these conditions, you sprout branches and scatter leaves, ultimately growing into a towering tree.”

Pausing, Shen Wuduan said, “However, rivers eventually run dry, and grass and trees ultimately wither and rot.”

“Doesn’t that mean that either way, it’s a dead end?”

Shen Wuduan countered, “Setting aside mountains, rivers, grass, and trees, can humans live as long as heaven itself?”

Chu Xiwei froze.

“Xiwei, today I will tell you something.” Shen Wuduan removed his gloves, his expression stern. “The Qilu Jing actually has a ninth level, but no one has ever reached it, not even its creator.”

Chu Xiwei’s breath hitched, his hands slowly clenching into fists.

Shen Wuduan asked, enunciating every word clearly: “Do you dare to try?”

“Yes.”

Unexpectedly, Chu Xiwei agreed very readily. Shen Wuduan raised an eyebrow: “Not going to think about it a bit more?”

“A youth who is not frivolous wastes his young years; I am also a young man prone to impulsiveness.” Chu Xiwei smiled softly, blinking with rare mischief. “Besides, with Yifu’s full support now, if I don’t even dare to agree, how will I take up all these heavy responsibilities in the future?”

Shen Wuduan clapped his hands and laughed loudly: “Good boy! Truly worthy of being my son!”

Just then, a figure suddenly approached like a phantom. Shen Wuduan stopped laughing, and Chu Xiwei also lowered his gaze. Turning to look, it was Er Niang, who should have been stationed at Senluo Hall.

Er Niang bowed and reported, “Reporting to the Exalted Lord, Daoist Duanqing has come to visit, currently waiting in the Forest of the Dead.”

“Duanqing?” Shen Wuduan frowned. “Did he… bring an outsider?”

Duanqing and his wife had been friends with Shen Wuduan for many years and long held the right to freely enter and exit Netherworld Valley. Except for forbidden areas and important meeting places, they could go almost anywhere; there was no reason for him to stay in the Forest of the Dead to wait.

Unless he hadn’t come alone, and the person accompanying him couldn’t even be considered a friend of the Hundred Ghosts Sect.

Chu Xiwei asked in a deep voice, “Who else is by the Daoist’s side?”

“A woman in blue robes is accompanying him,” Er Niang thought back carefully. “She is no longer young, wears a curved knife at her waist, uses bizarre footwork when moving, and her internal breath is virtually imperceptible. She is a rare master.”

Chu Xiwei frowned, while Shen Wuduan spoke up to ask, “That woman… are there golden bells hanging from her knife, and does she have three crescent hairpins in her hair?”

Er Niang replied, “It is exactly as the Old Master says.”

Chu Xiwei asked, “Yifu recognizes her?”

Shen Wuduan said, “She is Zhao Bing’e.”