SS CH91

When Ye Fusheng woke up, it was already the hour of Mao.

It was a deep, sweet, and dreamless night—a peaceful slumber he hadn’t enjoyed in who knows how long. Even the Youmeng poison inside him found no opportunity to cause trouble. Aside from a slight ache in the back of his neck, there was nothing else wrong.

There was no lit stove in the room, making it slightly cold. Ye Fusheng roused his internal energy to dispel the chill. Sweeping his gaze around, he saw no one else.

On the table sat a tightly covered food box, and fresh water had been prepared on the washstand. He washed up hastily, opened the food box, and brought out plain congee and side dishes. Only after finishing his meal comfortably did he push open the door and step outside.

Ye Fusheng didn’t see Duanqing, but he saw Xie Li in the courtyard practicing martial arts with a dead branch. He first bowed to the new grave beneath the plum tree before turning his eyes to the boy.

Xie Li was entirely focused on his practice. Even though he noticed Ye Fusheng’s arrival, he didn’t stop his movements.

He was practicing the sweeping, expansive Duanshui Blade Technique. Back when Xie Wuyi was at the villa, he had only had enough time to lay the boy’s foundation. It was only after Xie Min took over that Xie Li began learning the blade technique. Because Xie Min’s own understanding of the technique was limited, Xie Li had only memorized the outward forms of the blade style; he hadn’t grasped the core spirit and essence within. In fact, he was actually more familiar with the Canglan Thirteen Blades.

Although prying into another family’s martial arts was a major taboo in the Jianghu, on the eve of the Duanshui Manor incident, Xie Min had entrusted Xie Li to Ye Fusheng. Because the child was young and still needed an elder’s guidance in martial arts, Ye Fusheng had agreed.

Watching Xie Li practice now, though the boy’s movements were practiced, they carried a stiff, mechanical rigidity. Ye Fusheng only needed to watch three or four moves to roughly figure out the entire routine.

His brows slowly knitted and then relaxed. Without even grabbing a weapon, he tapped his toes and flashed directly in front of Xie Li, raising a leg to kick the hand holding the dead branch.

Recognizing that he intended to test his martial arts, Xie Li didn’t dare be careless. With a solemn expression and sharp eyes, he feinted with his hand, shifted his feet, and slid two feet to the side.

He had only been learning the Zhanyi Steps (Garment-Touching Steps) for a little over half a month, but he had memorized the mental cultivation method by heart and practiced it morning, noon, and night without ever slacking, rain or shine. Compared to before, his footwork was much faster and steadier. However, Ye Fusheng had absolutely no qualms about “the big bullying the small and getting bitten by the dog.” Seeing Xie Li use the Zhanyi Steps, he merely curled his lips into a smile and instantly deployed the Xiafei Steps. Moving like a startled swan catching its reflection, as fluid as drifting clouds and flowing water, Xie Li only saw a blur before him and felt a sudden chill on his back. Relying on instinct, he narrowly dodged the strike, but his footwork fell into chaos, nearly turning the perfectly fine Zhanyi Steps into the “Zhanyi Eighteen Tumbles.”

Fortunately, Ye Fusheng’s intention wasn’t to actually beat up a child. He stopped attacking with his hands, solely using his qinggong to circle Xie Li. Yet, he trapped him within the Nine Palaces grid, preventing him from escaping a tiny patch of ground. Unable to fully unleash his blade techniques, Xie Li inevitably became hesitant and constrained.

“Although I haven’t practiced the Duanshui Blade Technique, I have seen it.” Ye Fusheng systematically offered his insights while steadily suppressing Xie Li. “Among the three blades, Duanshui relies on momentum, Jinghong focuses on speed, and Wanyue generates unpredictable changes. Your family’s blade technique has always favored wide, sweeping movements, and the Jianghu has always spoken of ‘drawing a blade to sever water.’ But…”

Initially, seeing Ye Fusheng suppress his blade momentum just by walking with his hands behind his back had made Xie Li feel anxious and flustered. Now, hearing his guidance, he quickly cleared his mind. Daring not to abandon his moves, he continued executing the routine while perking up his ears to listen.

“The phrase ‘drawing a blade to sever water’ actually has two layers of meaning. First, it refers to the blade technique being swift, fierce, and unstoppable. Second, it means that even as the rushing water surges, it can be instantly divided.” Ye Fusheng spoke with assurance. “You are young, and your internal energy foundation cannot compare to your predecessors. Trying to use internal energy to sustain this blade technique will inevitably leave you lacking strength. Therefore, you must learn how to divide a massive river into smaller streams.”

As he spoke, Xie Li abruptly changed his move. What should have been the majestic and surging “Great River Flows East” suddenly condensed into a single point as he executed it. Transforming a slash into a thrust, he transitioned flawlessly into “Dripping Water Pierces Stone,” aiming straight for Ye Fusheng’s Guanyuan acupoint.

Ye Fusheng smiled. Still not using his hands, he turned sideways and raised his leg to dodge the strike, then pressed down, aiming to stomp on the branch. But in the nick of time, Xie Li flicked his wrist to disperse the force, executing another move, “Steady Stream.” Bypassing Ye Fusheng’s downward force, he pulled back and retreated three steps.

“Dividing routines and countering moves as they come—this requires paying attention to what you see and hear. You cannot misjudge your opponent’s patterns.” Before Ye Fusheng’s voice even faded, he appeared right beside Xie Li, exactly as if he had calculated the boy’s retreat path, driving a knee toward his lower back. “The Duanshui Blade Technique is grounded and steady, while the Canglan Thirteen Blades are bizarre and ever-changing. But ultimately, they share the same origin. You just haven’t grasped the key to combining them.”

Rolling on the ground, Xie Li scrambled out of the way and seized the opening to ask, “What is the key?”

“Silly child, since it is ‘drawing a blade to sever water,’ why don’t you try…” Ye Fusheng shifted his feet. Before Xie Li could launch an attack, Ye Fusheng kicked him right on the wrist. “Momentum like a blade, qi like water!”

The dead branch was kicked into the air. Ye Fusheng caught it effortlessly, turning back and swinging it without even looking. When he turned back around, a fallen leaf lay perfectly flat atop the dead branch.

He blew a breath of air. The fallen leaf drifted down, and before it hit the ground, it split cleanly in two.

The cut on the leaf was perfectly smooth, yet the object in his hand was clearly just a piece of dead wood.

Ye Fusheng obviously wasn’t using the Duanshui Blade Technique; in fact, there was no recognizable “technique” to his swing at all. It was just a plain, simple flick of the wrist.

Yet the power of that single motion was incredibly fierce.

Though his hand held no blade, his momentum was incomparably sharp.

He used no active power, yet his internal breath shifted instantly like water.

Looking at Ye Fusheng, then down at the two halves of the leaf on the ground, Xie Li was speechless for a long time.

Knowing the boy was smart and that advice should stop right at the critical point to avoid over-explaining, Ye Fusheng figured he had said enough for now and needed to let Xie Li ponder it himself. Shrugging, he was just about to drop the branch when his ears twitched at the sound of faint footsteps. Immediately after, a sharp, fierce wind attacked the back of his head. Ye Fusheng tilted his head, and the wind brushed past his cheek, actually causing a slight stinging sensation.

Sweeping out with the branch, he finally saw clearly that the unabated “fierce wind” was actually a fallen leaf infused with internal energy, making it as sharp as a throwing knife.

Plucking leaves and flying flowers to injure people—this was not something an ordinary master could achieve.

Turning around, Ye Fusheng saw another person standing at the courtyard gate.

The man appeared to be in his twenties, wearing a Daoist robe with a white base and cyan patterns. His ink-black hair was pinned up with a green bamboo hairpin, exuding an elegant, refined aura akin to a “gentleman like bamboo.”

However, a half-mask covered the left side of his face from his temple to his cheekbone. It revealed only a pair of clear, tranquil eyes and lips curved like crescent moons beneath a well-defined nose.

He was a young, handsome man, but the first glance at him evoked the calming scent of sandalwood, spontaneously giving rise to a feeling of profound serenity.

Ye Fusheng didn’t sense any hostility from the man. Though he didn’t lower his guard, he asked politely, “I am Ye Fusheng. May I ask who Your Excellency is…”

“This poor Daoist is Xuansu.” The man raised his hand in a Daoist greeting, his tone gentle. “I apologize for the abrupt intrusion. I came looking for Martial Uncle Duanqing. Unexpectedly seeing the two of you sparring, my hands felt an itch, and I presumptuously made a move.”

When he stood silently with a smile, he carried the babbling tranquility of a steady stream. But when he spoke, he did not hide his youthful nature, carrying a hint of innocent straightforwardness.

Yet such a seemingly innocent, harmless person already possessed the internal cultivation required to pluck leaves and fly flowers.

Ye Fusheng couldn’t help but feel an itch for a fight as well. With the knots in his heart finally untangled, he was no longer trapping himself in his mental prison and had begun to feel enthusiastic about other people and events again. Hearing this, he smiled. “It’s hardly an intrusion; it was just morning practice anyway. Does the Daoist wish to exchange pointers?”

Xuansu thought for a moment and first asked, “Is Martial Uncle Duanqing not here?”

Ye Fusheng looked at Xie Li, and the young boy replied, “The Senior left the courtyard at the hour of Yin (3:00 – 5:00 AM) and has not returned yet.”

Ye Fusheng smiled. “Since that’s the case, rather than waiting idly, why not have a match?”

Without much hesitation, Xuansu lightly swept the whisk held over his wrist. “Then this poor Daoist respectfully accepts. Please.”

Seeing that he was slightly younger than Ye Fusheng, he didn’t act arrogantly. Raising his hand, he immediately condensed his qi and thrust out a Calamity Finger strike. Just as the strike was about to hit a major acupoint on his shoulder, Ye Fusheng, without even seeming to dodge, transformed his palm into a blade and slashed diagonally upward from below, aiming straight to cut Xuansu’s wrist.

The two went back and forth, exchanging over a dozen moves. Ye Fusheng’s footwork was agile and his experience vast; with quick eyes and fast hands, he always managed to strike directly at vital points while countering attacks. Xuansu, on the other hand, maintained a steady defense without panicking. Knowing his movement was inferior, he transformed his offense into defense. His internal energy was profound, and his fist and palm techniques were watertight. Even with Ye Fusheng’s incredible speed in seizing openings, it was difficult to catch him off guard.

After a brief stalemate, Ye Fusheng’s eyes narrowed. Using the dead branch in his hand, he unleashed the sky-piercing “Baihong.” Its immense power was no weaker than actual iron weapons. Before the branch even arrived, the blade qi was already pressing into Xuansu’s face. Startled by the move but remaining calm, Xuansu spun his whisk into a circle, attempting to lock the branch and redirect the force. Unexpectedly, Ye Fusheng didn’t contest his strength; instead, he abruptly let go, exploiting the opening to thrust a finger toward the Tianchi acupoint.

Xuansu flipped his wrist. The branch, tangled in the whisk, was driven downward to intercept Ye Fusheng’s finger, yet it felt light and powerless. Ye Fusheng immediately turned his finger into a claw, hooked it around the branch, and effortlessly snatched it back. With a backhand swing, he unleashed the horizontal sweep of “Swimming Dragon.”

The strike was too fast and too fierce. With Xuansu’s current martial arts routine, he couldn’t defend in time. Instinctively, he raised his empty left hand, forming a palm-blade, but his thumb and ring finger curled inward toward his palm—a highly bizarre hand seal.

However, before the move could be executed, a white silhouette inserted itself into the battle. His left palm pushed Xuansu away, while his right forearm vertically blocked the dead branch. The black-and-white sleeve instantly split open with a tear, but the skin and flesh beneath were completely unharmed.

Duanqing had returned at some unknown time, separating the two in the blink of an eye. Blocking the strike, he turned his head to Xuansu and said, “You are not to use that cultivation method unless it is a dire emergency. Have you forgotten?”

Interrupted, Xuansu withdrew his stance and bowed slightly. “I got carried away for a moment. It won’t happen again.”

Glancing at Xuansu’s left hand, Ye Fusheng tossed the dead branch aside and smiled at the stern-toned Duanqing. “Getting a bit carried away during a spar isn’t a big deal, right?”

Duanqing turned his head, ignoring the remark, and merely glanced at him. “Your complexion is much better.”

Quietly giving Xuansu a “don’t worry” look, Ye Fusheng continued changing the subject. “Speaking of which, Shiniang, where did you wander off to so early in the morning?”

Xuansu, who had been adjusting his clothes nearby, nearly choked to death on the title. The look he gave Ye Fusheng was as if he were staring at an audaciously wicked beast.

Having been poisoned by the title “Shiniang” for years, Daoist Duanqing had long since cultivated to the realm where “the four elements are empty.” Hearing it now, his expression didn’t change in the slightest as he replied, “Just walking around.”

Pausing, he looked back at Xuansu and said, “This is my martial nephew, the Young Palace Master of the Taishang Palace. His secular name is Ji Yunshu, and his Daoist name is Xuansu. There is no need for formalities between you; just be at ease.”