https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-202-Cangling-Debate-of-Swords-10-/13547223/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-204-Cangling-Debate-of-Swords-12-/13547225/
Chapter 203: Cangling Debate of Swords (11)
Chapter 203: Cangling Debate of Swords (11)
He spoke the words with such boldness and pride that it stunned the gathered crowd. Even Feng Bu Jue’s companions were left speechless.
In the martial arts world, claiming to be a self-taught genius was akin to declaring you had superpowers in the real world. And following that with "founded my own sect"? That was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.
“Hahahaha!” Lushan, the drunken monk leaning against the stairs with a wine jar, roared with laughter. “Bravo! A self-taught genius who founded his own sect indeed!” He suddenly interjected, “This monk has wandered the jianghu for decades, meeting countless famed experts—most of whom were all reputation and no substance. As for those who boasted loudly? Nine out of ten were mere windbags, not worth a second thought.” He took another swig from his jar, then fixed Feng Bu Jue with a sharp gaze. “To find someone like Teahouse Master Feng—a nobody with words that shake the heavens! This monk truly has never seen the like.”
Suddenly, Lushan launched his signature move, “Hui Snake Offering Wine.” With a whip-like snap of his arm, he sent the wine jar spinning through the air toward Feng Bu Jue.
Though Lushan’s actions seemed reckless, he was a man of cunning. Every expert present recognized the hidden force within the jar’s furious spin—a lethal technique few could withstand.
If Feng Bu Jue caught the jar mid-air with his bare arm, he’d prove himself a master of profound internal kung fu. If he smashed it head-on, he’d still demonstrate formidable external martial prowess. Of course, there was also the chance he’d be struck outright—a humiliating prospect.
Yet Lushan’s move wasn’t entirely hostile. Feng Bu Jue’s earlier remarks had drawn the ire of the entire crowd, from Shaolin monks to scholars of the Renwu Sect and Xie Yaos’ Taoist masters, all of whom now eyed him with disdain. Had Lushan not acted first, some second-rate jianghu braggart would’ve surely challenged him next.
Lushan knew lesser martial artists often lacked restraint, and while top experts might hold back, the same couldn’t be said for vengeful mid-tier fighters. By intervening himself, he’d silenced the younger generation and those weaker than him. Now, all eyes were on this test of skill.
If Feng Bu Jue could block the jar, the matter would end here. If not, the blow—while painful—wouldn’t leave lasting harm, giving Feng a face-saving exit.
But Feng Bu Jue’s response defied expectations.
As Lushan laughed, Feng had already summoned his Death Poker, hidden in his palm, ready to activate his Card Shield. He’d resolved to counter any attack with that single defense.
The wine jar hurtled toward him—then shattered midair with a deafening crack, as though it had struck an invisible wall. Wine sprayed, only to be halted by the same unseen barrier.
Feng Bu Jue hadn’t moved an inch. One hand held his teacup; the other dangled casually beneath the table. His expression remained utterly calm.
As the golden light of the force field vanished, Feng casually tilted his teacup to intercept a droplet of falling wine.
“This esteemed master sure knows generosity,” Feng said, eyeing the cup. “He said one cup, but sent an entire jar.” He smiled. “Unfortunately, I’m no drinker—this one’s enough.” With that, he downed the tiny sip.
Silence fell over the hall.
The gathered experts exchanged glances, all asking the same question: What martial arts was that? Even Shi Yanran, who’d seen it before, could still make no sense of it.
“Regarding internal cultivation,” a soft voice suddenly mused, “to halt objects through refined energy—this is called mastery. To project true qi externally is perfection. To shape energy into form is transcendence…” The voice paused, drawing all gazes to a corner of the inn.
Feng followed their eyes to a violet-robed woman seated alone. At first glance, her beauty was delicate—fair-skinned, radiant. A second glance revealed poise and grace, her alluring eyes brimming with unspoken depths.
This was Muyong Ying, the “Cloud-Walking Fairy” of the jianghu. Though her martial skills ranked just shy of the elite, her knowledge of martial arts was unparalleled. It was said that marrying her would be both a romantic blessing and gaining a half-mentor. Yet at twenty-five, she remained unwed, rejecting all suitors—too wary of false intentions to risk her heart.
“…But Master Feng’s skills surpass even these realms,” she continued. “To command energy beyond the body, manifesting golden light. To shape the void at will…” She met Feng’s gaze. “Such mastery hasn’t been seen in the martial world for three centuries. I am truly honored to witness it today—my deepest respects.”
Feng nearly laughed aloud. This beauty’s words were a godsend! His bluff had been effortlessly validated.
Indeed, Muyong Ying’s words swayed the crowd. When an anomaly defied understanding, one credible voice could forge consensus—true or not.
Gongsun Qian, seated nearby, gaped in disbelief. His earlier doubt vanished; Feng Bu Jue was undeniably a peerless expert.
“Hahaha! Muyong, you’ve got vision!” Meng Jiu’s laughter boomed as he lounged on the inn’s threshold, wine in hand. “I knew this kid was special!”
Though Meng’s nightly village-corner vigils were infamous, the crowd eagerly wove tales of Feng and Meng’s secret duel the previous night—a battle where Feng had prevailed, hiding his full strength.
“Lushan!” Meng bellowed. “You clumsy monk! Ruined a fine jar of wine!”
“Hah! Old beggar,” Lushan shot back, “Can’t you see this monk’s found a treasure? A single jar’s nothing compared to this spectacle!”
Their banter broke the tension. Whispers erupted anew, shifting focus to Feng Bu Jue’s group. The Wanshou Tower’s affairs were forgotten.
From the inn’s second floor, a new voice cut through the noise.
“No wonder the commotion…” A white-robed swordsman, early forties, leapt down with effortless grace. Broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed, he landed beside Feng’s table. “Teahouse Master Feng,” he bowed, “I’ve awaited you.”
“Do I know you?” Feng asked.
The crowd gasped.
“He doesn’t recognize Lin Chang?” “The top swordsman of Ye Mansion’s ‘Huaying Six Swords’?” “What trick is this Feng up to now?”
Their shock was justified. Lin Chang, second only to Xie San and Ye Cheng, stood leagues above Gongsun Qian and Ji Tong.
“Hmph,” Lin Chang chuckled, unfazed. “I am Azure Sky Sword Lin Chang. I humbly invite Master Feng and Broken Sword Teahouse’s heroes to continue our talk upstairs.”
(End of Chapter)
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