Бессмертие, Бессмертие - Глава 27
The two barely began their exchange when Bi Qiuhan was completely at a disadvantage. From the very first move, he was utterly powerless to retaliate, retreating repeatedly after more than ten sword strikes. The clanging of weapons clashing was incessant, and after a dozen or so strikes, Bi Qiuhan's sword and scabbard were both riddled with wounds and on the verge of breaking.
“Mr. Yu,” someone in the woods spoke gently, “I can’t see the battle, but from what I’ve heard, it seems that Imperial Censor Li has gained an advantage in weaponry?”
Another person in the woods said calmly, "Not bad."
"Mr. Yu, I thank you on Qiu Han's behalf for your concern that Qiu Han might be secretly following us." The gentle young man smiled, but no longer mentioned the battle situation.
Li Shiyu was horrified. He knew there were people in the woods, but he didn't know there were two! In fact, he could only hear one voice, and what was terrifying was that he couldn't tell which of the two people was speaking!
Yu Xiu suddenly uttered two words: "Mirror Sword".
Upon hearing these two words, Li Shiyu's expression changed slightly, and he sneered, "That's not necessarily true!" As he said this, the sword in his hand changed its direction. The previously mysterious and skillful swordplay had now become wide and sweeping, the sword slashing down like an axe blade.
Bi Qiuhan was enlightened by Yu Xiu's words. The sword that had disappeared was actually the sword that had been polished to the aurora! The blade reflected light and shadows with exceptional clarity, making it seem as if it had vanished from the darkness and the moonlight among the trees. In reality, it was simply reflecting the surrounding scenery onto the blade.
As soon as the name Yu Xiu was uttered, Bi Qiuhan shouted, "Hmph!" The sword light surged like a torrent under the moon, seemingly ignoring the location of the sword, and went straight for Li Shiyu's brow!
Although Li Shiyu's trick was exposed, he did not panic. When Bi Qiuhan quickly raised his sword, he raised his hand and shot his sword. With a sharp "whoosh", the mirror sword in his hand flew out of his hand and shot towards Bi Qiuhan's brow.
Before Bi Qiuhan's sword strike reached Li Shiyu's face, the mirror sword had already flown right in front of him. Overcome with righteous rage, he let out a long roar and swiftly met the attack with his left-hand scabbard. With a clang, he cleverly used his hearing to sheath Li Shiyu's mirror sword. His right-hand sword followed suit, flying out of his hand and hurtling towards Li Shiyu's brow.
Then someone laughed loudly, "You didn't master that sword strike just now, but this throw was surprisingly fierce, even more so. It's clear you're not good at learning to do things right, but you're quite good at doing things wrong." This person had been watching from the treetops for a long time; it was Nan Ge.
After Bi Qiuhan counterattacked with his sword, he displayed the skills he had honed over twenty years. After throwing his sword, he drew Li Shiyu's mirror sword with a backhand and unleashed twenty-two consecutive strikes. Yu Xiu watched this with a faint smile, his hands behind his back, remaining silent.
Li Shiyu swiftly dodged the thrown sword, letting out a long laugh. "Xianzhi's 'Mid-Autumn Festival Calligraphy' sword, Bi Qiuhan, I advise you to use this sword less often. You are foolish and stubborn, how could you understand the beauty of the world's number one cursive calligraphy! I'll show you what the world's number one calligraphy and sword truly is!" As he spoke, he used his finger as a sword, barely drawing the character "老" (old) in the air.
The stroke of the character "老" (old) trailed down, making an unexpected curve. Bi Qiuhan, caught off guard by the sudden change, had his mirror sword shatter with a crack after being flicked by the man. Forced to retreat hastily, he felt a chill run down his spine. Li Shiyu's techniques were varied, but his true skill was undeniable; no wonder he remained composed even surrounded by the crowd.
"Ah—" Nan Ge on the tree couldn't help but exclaim, "Beautiful calligraphy! What a wild spirit!"
Wan Yuyuedan stood at the edge of the woods, and no one knew why he wasn't sleeping in the middle of the night, but he just stood there quietly. Hearing this, he smiled and said, "Wang Xianzhi's 'Mid-Autumn Festival Calligraphy' is a masterpiece of unrestrained spirit, six parts hard work and four parts natural talent. Qiu Han's hard work has not yielded enough natural talent, so he is fundamentally not on the same path as Wang Xianzhi." This was the basic martial art of his Biluo Palace. Wan Yuyuedan's father, Wan Yumoru, was fond of Wang Xianzhi's calligraphy, and all the hundreds of disciples in Biluo Palace had to learn this style of swordsmanship based on the "Mid-Autumn Festival Calligraphy."
At this moment, Li Shiyu finished writing the character "老" (old), and following the strangely curved stroke, continued writing the character "僧" (monk). That curved stroke actually became the "人" (person) radical of the character "僧". Then, with a hurried and shaky hand, he wrote a slanted character "曾" (once), which together formed the character "僧".
This series of finger techniques completely caught Bi Qiuhan off guard. Reading was not his forte, and he had no idea what Li Shiyu was writing. His sword was already shattered, so he shouted and slashed with his palm. He didn't care about calligraphy or handwriting; comparing internal strength was the most direct approach!
His chop made everyone laugh. Nan Ge laughed loudly, "This is truly putting on a show for a blind person, what a spoilsport!"
Li Shiyu ignored Bi Qiuhan's calligraphy and gestures, and instead struck out with a palm strike. The brushstrokes in his hand faltered, causing him to pause for a moment. A look of disdain appeared on his face as he clasped his hands together and pushed back.
Yu Xiu's eyes flickered slightly, and he abruptly shouted, "Stop!" Even as he spoke, their palms clashed with a sharp crack, like striking broken leather. Yu Xiu swiftly reached into his left hand and grabbed something that had secretly slipped from Li Shiyu's sleeve. He withdrew immediately, smashing the object to the ground with a flick of his left hand, and coldly said, "Stop!"
All eyes were fixed on the creature—a small snake the same color as Li Shiyu's sleeve, its vibrant colors clearly indicating it was no good. It was obviously trained; it had stealthily emerged and bitten the opponent's wrist while Li Shiyu was sparring with someone, how could the opponent not lose? In this dimly lit place with swaying shadows, who could have spotted it if not for Yu Xiu's sharp eyesight?
Li Shiyu seemed stunned by Yuxiu's words. After a while, he coldly said, "Tianyan is indeed sharp. Jinxiu'er has taken thirteen lives. She won't even know how she died when she sees Yama."
Yu Xiu ignored what he had just said and said indifferently, "Your cursive script of Huaisu's 'Eating Fish' is devoid of any real talent, you haven't even practiced diligently. 'This old monk ate fish in Changsha, but after coming to Chang'an, he ate more meat, and was laughed at by the common people.' Huaisu's 'Eating Fish' is transcendent and serene; how could someone as competitive as you possibly understand it? You mocked Bi Qiuhan's dullness, but your own shallowness is evident from your own despicable nature. Li Lingyan is clever and resourceful; having a brother like you is truly his misfortune." He didn't look at how Li Shiyu's face turned ugly after these words, and simply asked, "Are you going to surrender, or should I take you down?"
Li Shiyu had probably never been scolded like this in his life. Enraged, he let out a sharp scream and pounced on Yu Xiu like the wind.
Yu Zheng was about to raise his palm to receive the attack when suddenly a thought flashed through his mind—Li Lingyan must know Li Shiyu's temperament, right? He knew that Li Shiyu would be captured if he went up the mountain on his own tonight, so why didn't he stop him? Could it be—
With a loud bang, he sent Li Shiyu staggering back five steps with a single palm strike, his expression changing slightly. "Wait! How long have we been here? Why is there no sound from the Taoist temple? How did you get here?"
Nan Ge was startled by his words and her expression changed drastically. "I was lured out of the room by the men in black..."
Wan Yuyue's face was slightly pale. "I heard footsteps in the woods."
“Li Shiyu is skilled at walking alone for ten miles in the spring breeze; he never makes a sound when he walks!” Yu Xiu exclaimed with a "whoosh," his sleeves tucked behind his back. “Damn it! A diversionary tactic! We and Li Shiyu have all been used by Li Lingyan! The Taoist temple… something must have happened at the Taoist temple!” He turned and left first, his tone urgent but not impatient. “Bi Qiuhan, Li Shiyu is your responsibility. We’re going back to the Taoist temple!”
Li Shiyu was clearly taken aback, then suddenly burst into maniacal laughter, "Hahahaha, my good brother! Ling Yan is indeed Ling Yan!" He glared fiercely at Yu Xiu's retreating figure, "It's no use you going, once Ling Yan has made up his mind to kill, not even a god can stop him, hahahaha!"
Yu Xiu ignored her and hurriedly pulled Wan Yuyuedan's wrist back. Nan Ge climbed down from the treetop and walked alongside him. Both of them knew that if something happened at Wudang Taoist Temple, there would be many enemies, and they had to be careful.
Half an hour earlier, Shengxiang was rubbing her neck, which had been choked by Bi Qiuhan, and was yelling in front of the mirror.
Suddenly he heard footsteps running into the woods in the distance. Saint Xiang muttered to himself, "Strange sound..." Then he continued to look at himself in the mirror, grimacing.
After a while, the sounds stopped, and he prepared to go to bed. Suddenly, his ears twitched slightly—he heard what sounded like people falling.
Hmm? Shengxiang blinked, thought for a moment, and then remained asleep in bed with her eyes closed.
While he was sleeping soundly, someone slowly and silently pushed open his door.
It was a tall man in black carrying a knife, which was at least three feet long, as long as a sword.
If Bi Qiuhan were to see it, he would surely recognize it as the "One Knife, One Sword," the eccentric of Tianchi, Meng Daojian, whose knife and sword were both three feet and three inches long. When he wielded the knife, he was called Meng Yidao (Dream One Knife), and when he wielded the sword, he was called Meng Yijian (Dream One Sword). Legend has it that Meng Yidao only needs one strike to kill, and if one strike is not enough, he will never strike a second time.
Is this eccentric hermit also in cahoots with Li Lingyan?
"Watch out, there's a chair on the ground." Just as Meng Yidao was slowly advancing with his knife, Sheng Xiang, who was sleeping on the bed, suddenly warned him with his eyes closed. He had kicked over a chair while he was entangled with Bi Qiuhan, and now the chair was lying across the ground. If Meng Yidao took a few more steps, he would definitely trip over the fallen chair.
Meng Yidao paused, then chuckled, "Kid, you've got some nerve. You know I'm coming and you still haven't left. You've got guts!" As he spoke, he strode over the wooden chair on the ground, which shattered like paper under his feet. Three steps later, he stood before the sacred incense bed, his long sword raised high. "Considering your courage, kid, I'll let you die a quick death!"
With two sharp clangs, Shengxiang tapped his blade with her folding fan, then pointed behind him with her eyes still closed, saying, "Be careful."
Meng Yidao was stunned for a moment, then suddenly laughed sharply, "Kid, I value you. Stop talking nonsense with me, I'm sending you on your way!" Without turning around, he shouted and swung his sword down with all his might.
With a loud thud, his blade slammed into the ground—the instant he struck, Shengxiang vanished, bed and all. The blade was embedded more than two feet deep, and he couldn't pull it out for a moment. Just as he was about to pull it out, someone patted him on the shoulder. Meng Yidao looked up sharply and saw a figure carrying the boy who had been lazing in bed just moments before passing overhead and heading out the door.
If one strike fails, there will be no more killing. Meng Yidao was bewildered; who exactly were these two people?
The person who pulled back the covers of Shengxiang's bed and led him out was naturally Rong Yin. Shengxiang smiled and snuggled against Rong Yin, "Rongrong is still the best."
Rong Yin led him over several buildings to the top of the Fuzhen Temple in Wudang Mountain. He then took a deep breath. "Don't be lazy. The enemy has been planning this for a long time. Yu Xiu and Nan Ge have been lured away, and Master Qingjing has been led away. There are very few people in the temple who can stand alone. Moreover, the intruders are using a sleeping incense..." He paused here, "...it smells like orchids, but I..." He didn't finish his sentence before his body went limp, and he almost fell off the top of the Fuzhen Temple. Fortunately, Shengxiang caught him.
Shengxiang's expression changed drastically. "What's wrong with you? Could it be that you've been poisoned by some kind of sleeping potion?" Rong Yin's martial arts skills were extremely high; how could ordinary sleeping potions possibly harm him?