章節 82: Luoluo's Sword
Hearing Mao Qiuyu's statement finally made the crowd recall the ages of the four people on the plaza.
The oldest was Gou Hanshi, but he was no more than twenty.
Guan Feibai was eighteen.
Chen Changsheng and Luoluo were even younger.
They were all still young, one of them at Ethereal Opening, two at the upper level of Meditation, and there was even Chen Changsheng, not even having succeeded at Purification. Any random senior expert in the crowd spectating on the stone steps in front of the palace could easily defeat them, let alone Zhou Dufu or Emperor Taizong.
They were truly very young, so young that it was impossible to ascertain their futures. Tonight, they had already displayed a level that shocked the world; just who would be able to judge how far they would walk in the future?
The crowd quietly watched the flurry of swords and listened to the names of the techniques, their moods complex. In their view, the final outcome of this match between the Orthodox Academy and the Mount Li Sword Sect was truthfully no longer that important. Perhaps it would be better to say this: tonight, there would be no loser.
But Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi did not think this way, nor would Luoluo or Guan Feibai. On the sides of the plaza, Tang Thirty-Six, who was more nervous than anyone else, and Elder Xiao Songgong, whose face was growing increasingly resentful, as representatives of the Orthodox Academy and the Mount Li Sword Sect, thought only of triumphing over the other side.
No one knew how much time had passed.
They truly did not know.
The several hundred spectators and the two sides on the plaza had completely forgotten the passing of time.
The speed of Chen Changsheng's and Gou Hanshi's words did not slow, but their voices were gradually getting hoarse.
The speed at which Luoluo and Guan Feibai used sword techniques also did not slow, remaining precise and steady, but their breathing was gradually getting hurried.
Finally, at some point, Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi simultaneously stopped speaking.
All movement techniques, all foot techniques, all sword techniques had been used. The water had sunk, revealing white stone. (TN: This final line is evoking the image of the waters of a river dropping all the way until the white stones at its bottom are revealed. The line originates from 'An Account of the Old Toper's Pavilion' by Ouyang Xiu.)
At some point, the ten-odd zhang between Luoluo and Guan Feibai had vanished in a manner through which no one had noticed.
The two looked at each other, the Falling Rain Whip and the ordinary longsword silently meeting in the night sky.
This match had lasted for a very long time. Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi both took a step forward.
Luoluo and Guan Feibai had used several hundred sword techniques, used countless movement techniques and foot techniques, crossing the ten-odd zhang of distance.
At the final moment, the two sides met, whip touching sword.
This was not a mutual understanding but seemed a part of nature itself. Thus, it was very beautiful.
This testing of swords had finally reached this moment of meeting. The time of ending had finally arrived, not because the lamp had run dry of oil, but because the setting sun was sinking below the mountains.
The Falling Rain Whip and the longsword had already met. Since they could not use true essence, it was naturally impossible to continue.
This intense, even dazzling and resplendent battle had actually ended in a draw. This was truly beautiful, completely in accordance with the aesthetics of cultivators.
All around the palace was silence.
Even after a very long time, it was still silence.
Suddenly, someone began to clap.
The person clapping was Principal Mao Qiuyu.
Afterwards, Prince Chen Liu, the archbishop, and then everyone else, including the Qiushan clan head and Xu Shiji with their awful complexions, began to clap.
The clapping was in fits, rising and falling like a storm, intermixed with sighs of emotion and praise.
The crowd was praising the demeanor Luoluo and Guan Feibai had displayed in this competition of swords, and also praising the vast knowledge and ability Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi had displayed before the crowd. This was especially the case for Chen Changsheng—many people looked at this youth and thought in shock, this person is truly worthy of Princess Luoluo's deep respect. If he cultivated, would he not become the second Gou Hanshi?
The archbishop whispered a few words to Priest Xin behind him. Priest Xin accepted the order and took his subordinates to the plaza to go to Chen Changsheng's and Gou Hanshi's sides to offer recuperative medicines from the Li Palace—many people believed that Luoluo and Guan Feibai had greatly exhausted themselves in this match, but only the archbishop understood that it was Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi who had depleted their mental faculties to a frightening level. It was doubly true for Chen Changsheng who had not begun to cultivate, making it impossible for him to use true essence to nurture his mind. If he did not promptly take medicine, he might suffer some grave injury and even suffer some residual effects.
Defying everyone's expectations, Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi did not take the medicine or even glance at it.
They were still staring at the plaza, staring at Luoluo and Guan Feibai.
The spectators finally noticed the peculiarity on the plaza.
Luoluo had not withdrawn her whip, nor Guan Feibai his sword. Neither of them had any intention of retreating.
The crowd once more fell silent, staring in astonishment at this scene, mystified as to what would happen next.
Not willing to accept a draw?
Could this match possibly still have not concluded?
...
...
Luoluo and Guan Feibai paid no attention to the countless gazes on their bodies because they had even closed their eyes.
The Falling Rain Whip and the longsword had met in the night sky and had still not parted.
They kept their eyes closed, relying on the faint trembling transmitted through their palms to sense the will and thoughts of their opponent.
Luoluo's clothes were drenched in sweat, releasing a white smoke into the slight chill of the autumn night, making her seem just like a fairy.
Guan Feibai's eyes were closed, his two eyebrows like swords. A bead of sweat slowly made its way down his face, making him seem just like the final and matchlessly valiant general on the battlefield.
Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi quietly gazed at the plaza, their faces somewhat pale, but they did not speak. They had each done everything that they possibly could so as to not have Luoluo or Guan Feibai lose in this competition of swords. Now, what would decide victory and defeat in this match would not be them, but those other two who had fought for such a very long time.
Without any warning, Luoluo and Guan Feibai simultaneously opened their eyes.
The longsword suddenly rose up and casually lashed out!
Several white threads suddenly appeared in the darkness, the turbulence from the sword cutting through the air!
Gou Hanshi's eyes began to glow.
He recognized that this sword style was not a part of the Mount Li Sword Sect, not a part of any sect. It was solely Guan Feibai's.
This was a sword style Guan Feibai had created by himself and that carried his own name: Flying White! (TN: Flying White is a literal translation of Feibai. It is also an actual calligraphy style noted for using a brush that is not dipped in very much ink to write characters that end up with the center of the strokes being white from lack of ink.)
Flying White was a calligraphy style, its style one of flying strokes, a parched brush connecting all and a striking white in between the letters!
This sort of calligraphy style required a parched brushstroke and what it chose was a parched essence!
This sword style was assuredly not Guan Feibai's strongest sword style, but it was assuredly the sword style that had engraved itself the deepest in his body!
From inside the hall to outside, the perpetually arrogant Guan Feibai had suffered too much humiliation tonight, had held it in for far too long. Even in this endless battle with Luoluo, he had been suppressing his anger, coldly, even cruelly moving his sword according to the instructions of his senior brother, all the way until this moment…
Tonight, he had already suppressed himself for far too long.
Yes, his lamp had still not run dry because he had never used his true essence, but his rage and arrogance had simmered for so long that his reserves had almost boiled away.
At the final moment, he finally released the energy he had suppressed for the entire night. This energy was extremely powerful, seeming as if it could fly, carrying a parched essence!
Without needing true essence, only relying on such formidable sword intent, he would be able to defeat any opponent!
...
...
The moment Guan Feibai moved his sword, Luoluo also moved.
Just what sword technique should she use to respond to her opponent's Flying White?
The Falling Rain Whip suddenly tightened, becoming extremely straight, just like a branch that had been chosen with utmost care.
She stared into Guan Feibai eyes, not even glancing at or caring for his sword. Gripping her whip, she stabbed at him with no hesitation or delay in her actions!
Yes, there were no tricks, no changes, no sword intent or accumulated energy.
She held her whip like a sword and simply stabbed forward.
The Falling Rain Whip was like a branch. It had no need to rise, only move forward and then fall.
Just like how Chen Changsheng in the library of the Orthodox Academy had used the tree branch to poke at her body.
In this stab, she naturally did not use true essence, yet a fierce buzz droned through the night sky.
It could be imagined just how fast she was.
It could be imagined just how many times she had practiced this stab.
This was something that none of the crowd had been able to understand. The majority of the Mount Li Sword Sect's disciples were born in poverty, so they practiced their swordsmanship relentlessly and possessed an unusual determination, but how could Princess Luoluo, the sole daughter of the White Emperor, endure so much pain?
In White Emperor City, no one dared to discipline her, so she was naturally not taught to be this way.
Chen Changsheng dared to discipline her, but she acted so clever and intelligent, so what was there to discipline?
The Orthodox Academy truly did have a teaching stick, but it had no other use than Chen Changsheng instructing her on how to circulate true essence.
Luoluo had practiced it herself.
For some reason she wanted no one else to know, from the moment she began to think, she had always yearned to be strong.
So she cultivated with great diligence, practiced the sword with great bitterness.
...
...
Chen Changsheng and Gou Hanshi stared at the plaza in silence.
Luoluo's and Guan Feibai's final attacks seemed to have nothing to do with them, but in truth, they still had something to do with them.
The lessons they had taught to Luoluo and Guan Feibai in the Orthodox Academy and the Mount Li Sword Sect were all displayed in these final attacks.
That Luoluo and Guan Feibai would have this opportunity to use these final attacks was truthfully also the result of them exhausting their minds.
Since they could not accept a draw, there would certainly be victory and defeat.
Who would win and who would lose? Would the sword be more powerful or the whip even faster?
The crowd stared, their expressions tense.
Guan Feibai's sword howled through the night sky like a parched brush, a whip wielded in the hands of a god.
Luoluo's whip stabbed through the night sky like a tree branch, a sword wielded in the hands of a god.
...
...
The sword rose.
The whip rose.
The sword fell.
The whip did not fall.
...
...
A hint of pain appeared in Guan Feibai's eyes, quickly replaced by a sense of incredulity.
He lowered his head to his stomach. The clothes there had been broken and the Falling Rain Whip stuck out of it like a sword. Blood slowly seeped out.
He raised his head to Luoluo, shocked and furious. He wanted to ask something, but no words came out.
Blood trickled down from the corner of his lip.
The Falling Rain Whip had not advanced far, as Luoluo had already stayed her hand.
His injuries were very light. Blood was trickling from the corner of his lips not because of Luoluo's whip, but because his anger, unwillingness, and all his other emotions had exploded, wounding his heart.
"Concede."
Luoluo drew back the Falling Rain Whip, clasped her hands, and bowed. With a calm expression, she turned and walked back to Chen Changsheng.
Chen Changsheng looked across through the darkness at Gou Hanshi, slightly bending his body and clasping his hands.
After a moment of silent thought, Gou Hanshi returned the gesture.
Chen Changsheng turned to Luoluo, a faint smile appearing on his slightly pale face.
Seeing him smile, Luoluo also happily laughed.
This competition of swords had finally reached a conclusion.
Victory and defeat had already been assigned.
Luoluo had won over Fourth Law Guan Feibai.
The Orthodox Academy had won over the Mount Li Sword Sect.
No one in the crowd had expected this sort of result beforehand.
The entire place was absolutely silent.
Suddenly, there was a voice.
"If we could use true essence, that final strike of your whip wouldn't even be able to break my skin."
Guan Feibai gazed at Luoluo's back, his face pale, refusing to accept this result.
Luoluo stopped.
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