Chapter 757: To Unsheath the Sword for You (Part 2) (For Patron 【Hong Chen Youxing】)

"Master He, this sword puzzle is trapped in my inability to surpass myself. I’ve heard that the 'Dunyi Sword' can escape a prison with no gaps. Now we face the 'Complete Self,' and dueling it with swords is like being locked in a room with no doors or windows—airtight, impossible to break through." Lu Wei said, "Since Master He understands the Dunyi Sword, perhaps it is the key to this puzzle. Even if not, it might still offer insight by analogy."

Lu Wei’s words carried a hint of delight, as if he had found a promising path; the murmurs in the garden quieted, and all eyes turned toward the woman with anticipation.

“...Oh.” He Zhaoyao replied.

Then she rose from her seat.

She took two steps forward, then turned back to pick up her sword from the table.

Pei Ye watched her frozen expression from afar.

“Oh,” she repeated, raising her hand in a respectful bow toward Lu Wei and all around, “Thank you for your high regard. I, He Zhaoyao of Xudao Mountain, pay my respects to Master Lu and all the heroes here.”

“Our sect does have the concept of the ‘Dunyi Sword,’ but this sword is not uniquely ours... it is merely a name.” He Zhaoyao gazed down at empty space; her voice was soft and melodious, and as she spoke, the garden fell utterly silent, “I believe this sword puzzle may not be solvable by the Dunyi Sword.”

Here she suddenly lifted her gaze, glancing far across at Pei Ye. Pei Ye’s eyebrows slowly drew together, a bad premonition rising.

Lu Wei asked curiously, “Why does Master He say the Dunyi Sword cannot solve it?”

“‘Dunyi’ refers to the ‘Self’ enveloped by the outside world—I think it cannot be used to transcend the Self,” He Zhaoyao said. “Of course, perhaps one could try... but the truth is, I myself don’t know how to use it well, so I cannot be certain.”

“Hmm.” Lu Wei was momentarily stunned; he had only heard of this concept, never seen the sword, “Then, Master He, will you enter the pool to try?”

He Zhaoyao smiled faintly, her clear voice ringing out: “Since I cannot use it, entering the pool would only disturb the water. But I know someone here who uses the Dunyi Sword far better than I do—last time we discussed sword principles, his insights were exceptionally profound... in short, he is far superior to me. I ask that he come forward and give it a try.”

“...”

“...”

Lu Wei looked bewildered; the entire garden fell silent.

He Zhaoyao turned her head, like a crane looking back, gazing far across to the Jian Academy’s ranks.

Pei Ye took a deep breath and turned away.

The garden watched He Zhaoyao in quiet, curious bewilderment. The woman offered an apologetic smile, then, under the gaze of all, lowered her head and walked step by step toward the Jian Academy’s group.

The sword disciples sat tightly packed; she whispered, “Please make way,” and stepped carefully forward until she stood before Pei Ye.

Pei Ye looked up at her, stunned.

“Young Master Pei Ye, please... please help me...” She bent low, whispering, her hand tightly gripping the boy’s sleeve.

“Is this a ‘request’?!” Pei Ye stared, mouth opening soundlessly.

“I... I have no other choice...” He Zhaoyao’s eyes welled with tears, pleading, “Please, for the sake of us sharing a room at the inn last night...”

“Don’t you dare say that!!” Pei Ye’s eyes widened like bells. The sword disciples who had been watching now turned their heads solemnly away—many even covered their ears with proper decorum.

“Please...”

“Alright, alright, fine! Stop talking nonsense.” Pei Ye had only ever been flustered by women before, never so thoroughly rattled; he said, “It’s nothing. I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you, Young Master Pei Ye!”

“Wait a moment—I’ll get my sword.” Pei Ye lifted the Jade Tiger, shoved it behind his back, adjusted its angle—but He Zhaoyao could not wait; she seized him by the arm and pulled him up from the table.

The garden watched as the woman finished speaking and turned toward the west. Her figure stood tall and slender, even with her head slightly bowed, she resembled an elegant crane.

The girls on the terrace watched her; the Shulong Jade Sword Society watched her; Kongdong, Yunshan—all of the garden fell silent, curious, watching her.

She walked step by step across half the small garden, finally stopping beside the Jian Academy’s seating, then stepped inside, bending low to speak with someone.

The two seemed to exchange light laughter; the woman even held his sleeve, and the young man, still adjusting his cuff, rose with a smile as she led him.

To most, this figure was young and unfamiliar—he stood tall and sturdy, dressed in Jian Academy robes, a black cat perched on his shoulder. He Zhaoyao held his sleeve as she led him back to the pool.

“This is my friend. He truly knows how to use the Dunyi Sword—he is a formidable swordsman. Please let him give it a try,” He Zhaoyao bowed gracefully, then stood quietly to the side, as if it had nothing to do with her.

The garden fell silent once more. The boy had no extraordinary aura, yet he showed no sign of nervousness.

This sword puzzle had lingered on the stage for some time, and he was the first to step into the circle of six. Unlike Shang Yunning or Chen Quan, who clearly exuded sword mastery, he stepped forward, raised his hand in greeting, and bowed respectfully to the several True Transmissions.

“I’m not fully prepared,” he smiled. “I intended to understand it thoroughly before speaking—but I was suddenly called upon by Master He.”

Lu Wei returned the bow, smiling as he studied him: “So you are Young Master Pei. Master He says you use the Dunyi Sword. What insights do you have?”

“That’s her term—I actually doubt it. She’s never seen me draw my sword,” the boy smiled, lifting the cat from his shoulder and gazing at the pool, “But I do have some thoughts. Master Lu, when you entered the pool, could you not break your own sword?”

Lu Wei replied, “If I could break my own sword, I would know how to wield it better—and that better version of myself would be my true self now.”

The boy nodded. “I thought so. Then what if you break through after entering the pool?”

“After entering the pool...” Lu Wei froze.

“Precisely. Because I just watched you all treat this as a riddle to solve—as if searching for a crack to slip through. But isn’t this mirror originally Ning Tongxiu’s sword barrier?” the boy said. “If it’s a bottleneck, a barrier, then the only way is to ‘break through.’ I see no clever shortcut—only by entering the pool and surpassing the Complete Self before its eyes.”

“...” Lu Wei fell silent.

Many swordsmen are constantly improving.

But improvement is improvement; breakthrough is breakthrough. A slight advance is a slight advance; rising one level is rising one level.

Even if one breaks through in battle, perhaps gaining insight into a partial self—can one truly surpass the Complete Self?

Qun Fei lightly tapped her sword scabbard: “Young Master Pei, your words sound plausible, but they verge on fantasy.”

The boy smiled at her: “Mount Tian is a realm of immortals—it’s fitting to believe in a little fantasy.”

Qun Fei’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, as if smiling at him.

The boy glanced down at the cat in his arms, then handed it to He Zhaoyao beside him, smiling to all: “Thank you for your attention. I’ll go down and try. If I fail, please don’t laugh too hard.”

He Zhaoyao took the cat, watching him with full admiration.

The boy’s expression grew serious. He lowered his head and stepped into the pond.

With each step, he grew quieter still—by the time he reached the pond’s edge, he seemed as still as stone or wood, as if birds and butterflies might alight upon him.

Then his boots touched the water’s surface. He raised his head and stood motionless upon it.

His reflection rose before him.

Only now did people see the blazing, sharp, unrestrained sword intent.

It burst forth from the shell of his clothes and body, like the flowing sash of an immortal, seizing the entire Heart Sword Realm in an instant.

If Lu Wei was a deep mountain, and Shang Yunning a snowy field, then the boy truly resembled a sword immortal descending to earth.

But not from the boy standing silently upon the pond—rather, from the figure slowly rising opposite him.

It raised its hand first, tearing off its hair tie. Then its long hair, sleeves, and hem flared wildly, like a swirling, burning gray flame.

The boy himself remained utterly still. He watched it intently; behind his waist, his long sword floated without wind, truly like a heavenly youth commanding a blade.

The garden fell stunned; murmurs slowly began to rise again.

“Who is this man?” Some whispered among themselves.

“...Pei Ye.” Others answered, dazed.

(End of Chapter)