Chapter 151: Body Supreme, Mind Invincible

Bu Jun told Li Guanyi about all the matters he had completed.

After the top four are decided tomorrow, the Seven Kings will invite guests to a banquet, and the Emperor will also perform rituals with his ministers before the grand sacrifice; it is said the envoy of the Great Emperor of Zhongzhou has already set out and will arrive here soon.

"Moreover, there will be rain tonight."

"The rain will wash away most traces."

Li Guanyi said: "How do you know?"

Bu Jun smiled faintly and replied: "Heaven's timing, geographical advantage, water flow, and natural resources—aren't these the basics of a strategist? My Wu Gong is ordinary, unremarkable; I must have other strengths."

Li Guanyi said: "Mr. is truly gifted."

Bu Jun's lips curled slightly, then he raised a fist to his lips and said coolly: "Merely ordinary matters, not worth mentioning, not worth mentioning."

The second match: Ye Buyi versus Yuwen Hua.

Yuwen Hua is five years older than Ye Buyi.

Both are descendants of famed generals; five years mark the span from youth to adulthood. Ye Buyi has advanced steadily, and though he did not win, he fully demonstrated his strength and bearing, never yielding in momentum.

Yuwen Hua said: "The son of the commander of Night Charge Cavalry truly has some skill."

"One day on the battlefield, I await your leadership of the Night Charge Cavalry."

Ye Buyi replied coldly: "You will see."

In the first two matches of the top eight to top four, both losers and winners displayed bearing. Yu Jinbinghuo crossed his arms, leaning against a tree; though far away, he could still see the subtle changes in the Emperor's expression.

It's to promote his son's reputation.

But human hearts are hard to fathom.

Yu Jinbinghuo muttered to himself: "Even wolves have their own spirit; such ferocity can showcase talent and innate gift on the battlefield and in the Jianghu, allowing one to thrive amidst schemes—but you must not let a wolf brimming with ferocity ascend to rule the world."

"To the eyes of the world, compete with tigers and leopards."

"Have you never considered that among the younger generation, heroes are emerging?"

"Even if his Wu Gong is inferior to the one meticulously cultivated."

"But such spirit, such general's aura, is far rarer than Wu Gong."

Yu Jinbinghuo sneered.

The next day, many Jianghu figures gathered around the arena, drawn by the presence of Xu Huiyang, the grandson of the Sword Saint; after all, this is a once-in-a-decade event of the realm, and Emperor Chen had declared he would share joy with the people—naturally, spectators were numerous.

"Is that the Young Sword Saint, ranked thirty-fourth on the Famous Heroes List?"

"Truly a man of distinguished appearance, refined and elegant."

"It is said he possesses the essence of three sword schools; these past years he has never truly fought, yet his name still echoes throughout the Jianghu—he is considered the one most likely to inherit the title of 'Saint' from the Sword Saint lineage."

"Yes, among this generation of the Sword Saint's line, he leads in talent and character."

Suddenly, a Jianghu guest sighed: "Pity, pity."

"What's pitiful?"

"It's pitiful that the Master Jiankuang Murong Longtu, who once roamed the world, now grows old and remains confined to a single city. Two nations have turned the Eighteen Southern Provinces into chess pieces, and Murong clan members have paid dearly, sacrificing much, unable to travel and improve."

"Among the younger generation, no one can hold the title of 'Mad.'"

The Jianghu guests fell silent, yet dared to speak such words here.

One man pressed his brow, one hand holding a carving knife, the other a bamboo scroll, and said: "If the Young Sword Saint wins the Emperor Chen's grand sacrifice, his reputation should grow even louder, enough to enter the top thirty."

The Famous Heroes List ranks Jianghu newcomers under thirty.

Those in the top thirty were all, in their youth, as talented as Xu Huiyang.

Now, after years of refinement, they are all twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

Their cultivation realms far surpass Xu Huiyang, who is ten years younger.

Someone asked curiously: "I wonder how well the young Gold Guard he faces will do?"

The man holding the carving knife replied: "Impossible."

"That Gold Guard has at most brute strength; his Martial Path Realm is only the second level. Though impressive for his age, the gap with Xu Huiyang's third level is immense."

"If he can last thirty rounds, that's already good."

"Fifty rounds? That would grant him the strength to barely enter the bottom of the Famous Heroes List—but even that is due to the influence of the Divine Generals List; the Famous Heroes List also considers deeds done. Without notable achievements, even with such strength, one cannot rank."

This man is one of the guest advisors of the Tianxia Diyi Lou of the World, collecting Jianghu legends and anecdotes.

A curious onlooker laughed: "Hahahaha, true enough—but why don't you compile the Beauty List? I heard of a girl, beautiful and innocent, worthy of ranking."

The man frowned and replied: "I know."

"You mean that girl from the Xue family."

"Like peony or peony, beautiful in youth—but she can never be listed."

The guest advisor of the Tianxia Diyi Lou of the World smirked: "The highest Jianghu Master List represents the turbulent currents of the Jianghu after thirty; the Famous Heroes List represents the youthful spirit before thirty. These three lists seek fame and rank martial prowess—that is acceptable."

"But do you know the Beauty List includes only two kinds of people?"

"One: a woman of unparalleled beauty with no powerful clan behind her—she cannot avoid being listed."

"Two: a woman of unparalleled beauty with powerful protection, using the Jianghu Beauty List to gain fame."

"That Young Lady, though young, could easily be listed—but behind her stands the Xue family, whose merchant guild spans all nations, wealth reaching the heavens; her grandfather, Xue Daoyong, is not on the Jianghu Master List, yet his martial power can shoot an arrow through mountains fifty li away."

"He is a martial cultivator who has lived two full cycles of sixty years."

"Always claiming he is old and weak, useless, useless—yet two months ago, he fought General Yue Qianfeng, ranked thirty-fourth on the Divine Generals List, and shattered the heavens and earth. What old and weak?"

"To be listed on the Beauty List brings fame and trouble. The Xue Young Lady needs no fame and hates trouble; if she were listed, perhaps the next day, Xue Daoyong would come to the tower. Such trouble is best avoided."

"Long ago, the Murong clan had one—a granddaughter of Murong Longtu."

"She made the top ten of the Beauty List—within three days, Master Jiankuang and Tai Ping Gong came to the tower one after another; the tower's owner was left laughing and crying, forced to remove her. But another, Murong Longtu's granddaughter, found it amusing and insisted on being listed just for fun."

Onlookers were astonished: "How do you know all this?"

The Tianxia Diyi Lou of the World's guest advisor, Tu Shengyuan, smirked: "I was the one who compiled it back then."

Thus, all present bowed in solemn respect.

Tu Shengyuan said: "This time, I won't be wrong."

"That Golden Guard, Li Guanyi, cannot possibly win—I bet he'll last thirty or fifty rounds; if he loses, I'll swallow this scroll of bamboo strips!"

The crowd praised his keen eye, and the fighting platform had already been erected; the Emperor had come to watch this match, as had the Seven Princes, Jiang Gao of Ying State, and Jiang Yuan—all seated above; to the left sat the Xue elder and Consort Xue, while to the right sat Dan Tai Xianming and the Empress.

Because so many had gathered, the first match of the day drew the largest crowd in days—boisterous and noisy, and somehow, the battle between Xu Huiyang and Li Guanyi had acquired an unspoken momentum, destined to be fiercer than even the final match.

The Emperor lowered his gaze, expression calm.

He acknowledged Xu Huiyang's Wu Gong.

Li Guanyi must be swiftly defeated.

For the prestige amassed by these two would naturally flow to his son—and this was precisely within his expectations.

Xu Huiyang, clad in white robes, with a black jade hairpin, stood on the platform, sword case on his back.

Li Guanyi exchanged fist bumps with Ye Buyi and other Golden Guard friends from Zhou Liu's camp, then lifted his battle halberd and stepped onto the platform.

Xu Huiyang said: "Today's match, Brother Li, I yield to you."

Li Guanyi raised his weapon: "After you."

Xu Huiyang smiled faintly, did not draw his sword, but merely used his finger to summon sword qi, which coalesced and surged toward Li Guanyi—this technique was extremely fast, knowing Li Guanyi had not opened his eye acupoint, aiming to overpower him with speed and end it swiftly.

But his movement halted.

A fierce tearing sound echoed like thunder.

A blurred shadow slashed down.

The battle halberd struck with perfect precision, hitting that sword qi dead center.

The sword qi shattered, dissolving into pure energy that swept past Li Guanyi—his sleeve was sliced open; Xu Huiyang saw his own sword qi strike Li Guanyi's arm, leaving only a white mark.

Xu Huiyang's pupils contracted sharply.

The next instant, the heavy, domineering halberd came crashing down; Xu Huiyang saw the trajectory of this strike with absolute clarity.

But ultimate power brought ultimate speed.

He saw it.

But seeing did not mean he could dodge.

Perceiving it did not mean he could block it.

A sword's chime rang across the arena; Xu Huiyang's palm now held a blade, which he twisted to entangle the halberd, then stepped back, winding his sword along the halberd's force and pushing with it—this sword technique was supremely refined, unleashing Third Heaven internal energy.

Boom!!!

The halberd slammed hard into the ground, leaving a crater in the blue stone platform.

Dust swirled thickly.

After a moment of silence, the crowd erupted in gasps and exclamations; Tu Shengyuan stared fixedly at the battle, murmuring: "Xu Huiyang drew his sword?" Since entering the contest, the Young Sword Saint had never drawn his blade, relying solely on finger-sword techniques to dominate—all it took was one strike to force him to draw.

Xu Huiyang stared at the crack on his palm; his ever-calm smile finally faded.

His Hukou still throbbed with agony.

His internal energy was vast—but his opponent's physique far surpassed his own.

Li Guanyi gripped the halberd, pulled the blade free, clasped it with both hands, and adopted the Xue Family's Four Barbarians Submit stance—the foundational form of the Twenty-Four Xue Family Halberd Techniques, upright, majestic, endlessly ingenious.

Xu Huiyang shifted his internal energy through his sword.

He directly transformed his internal energy into armor.

This transformation stunned the onlookers.

Third Heaven versus Second Heaven.

Yet after just the first strike, he resorted to this hallmark technique—wasn't that overly oppressive? Only the Crown Prince knew: Xu Huiyang was always gentle, never one to crush others with force.

That meant one thing.

The opponent's pressure was immense.

Xue Lao burst into loud laughter: "Pity, pity—if Guanyi were Draped in Heavy Armor, he'd be truly invincible."

Dan Tai Xianming said coolly: "His cultivation is still too low."

The battle erupted instantly; Xu Huiyang, true to his status as the Sword Saint's heir, unleashed peerless sword qi—his opening moves were exquisitely intricate; all onlookers were stunned, seeing in his techniques echoes of countless mysterious sword arts, reflections of every sword style in the Jianghu.

"How can such a level of sword art—mastering complexity through simplicity—exist in one so young?"

"Each movement, seemingly casual, unfolds into infinite variations, endlessly ingenious."

"No wonder he's the Sword Saint's grandson."

They pondered how to break his techniques, yet found Xu Huiyang had already perfected his sword art to the point of perfection—no matter how they countered, he had a follow-up waiting, endlessly shifting, seemingly without end; Li Guanyi's techniques were far less refined.

But under Xue Shen's guidance, Li Guanyi had already clashed with countless prodigies.

He knew how a military strategist like himself must respond to such artistry.

Li Guanyi gripped the halberd with one hand and stepped forward sharply.

He stepped straight into the sword's edge.

Xu Huiyang froze slightly, then saw the boy's right hand slide down the halberd shaft to its end, his fingers locking onto the grip's anti-slip node; then, pivoting his shoulder like a whip, he swung it violently—the halberd's shaft seemed to bend, emitting a deep, muffled groan.

Li Guanyi would be pierced through the shoulder by sword qi.

But this wide-range halberd sweep—

Xu Huiyang would be struck squarely across the waist.

The vital organs there—Xu Huiyang's physique could not withstand it!

Upright.

Overpowering art with brute force!

If Xu Huiyang did not intend to fight to the death, he had no choice but to retreat—so all his myriad sword techniques condensed into a single point; the blade delicately touched the swiftly moving halberd, the sword bent, rebounded, and Xu Huiyang's footwork expertly pushed him back.

Li Guanyi stepped through the transformations of the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams, moving from the Qian Palace to the Li Fire position.

He appeared behind and to the side of Xu Huiyang, both hands gripping his battle halberd as he thrust forward violently.

His techniques were heavy, tyrannical, drawing upon the momentum of the 【Crush Mountain】 style.

Each strike was not the original 【Crush Mountain】.

Yet each contained the core essence of 【Crush Mountain】—that tyrannical, momentum-concentrating posture; he followed only his own path, and no matter how exquisitely refined your technique, if I strike, you must follow my movement—or die, or be wounded!

Sword qi crisscrossed; halberd shadows roared.

Ten rounds. Twenty rounds.

Thirty rounds.

Forty rounds.

Halberd and sword shadows clashed back and forth; Yuwen Hua and Geshu Yin watched the battle with sharp eyes, unconsciously siding with Li Guanyi, for his combat style was utterly that of a military general.

Yuwen Hua clenched his fist and murmured:

"This is the opponent who will one day meet me on the battlefield…"

Boom!!!

The halberd swept horizontally, the air splitting with fierce sound; Li Guanyi suddenly felt the halberd grow heavy.

Xu Huiyang stood atop the halberd's tip.

His sleeves fluttered, his bearing magnificent, his lightness skill unmatched among his peers.

"Excellent physique…"

"Your halberd is strong, your Wu Gong is not low—if I were struck once, I might lose. But your internal Qi is insufficient, so your lightness skill cannot keep up with mine, and your halberd cannot truly strike me."

"Let us decide victory in another way."

Xu Huiyang gripped his sword, the blade slightly lifted.

"Scholar's Palace: Heart Sword."

"Beware."

People suddenly realized the two young warriors, who had just fought with extreme intensity, had stopped. Their breathing was calm; each held their weapon, yet neither moved. Though they did not strike, the solemn and deadly atmosphere on the arena had grown heavier than before.

"Gongyang Su Wang's Heart Sword directly questions the heart."

"If one's inner resolve is strong enough, it is a method to overcome strength with weakness!"

"To use such a dangerous technique…"

"This young Sword Saint also has three parts of determination."

At this moment, Xu Huiyang walked within Li Guanyi's spirit, a questioning presence: with my sincerity, I question your heart. Li Guanyi's spirit surged with countless images—figures of mighty warriors—but Xu Huiyang's lineage was stronger, his encounters more extraordinary.

He too had his own array of figures.

Finally, their spirits faced each other.

Xu Huiyang gripped his sword, his eyes bright and warm, saying: "I who hold the sword live for sincerity. This body, this heart, this soul—all exist for the sword, all move for the sword. When I was five, I walked through the Sword Graveyard without lifting a single blade—and then I knew."

"I will surpass my grandfather, surpass every swordmaster past and present."

"I wield this sword for this reason alone."

"Tell me—how about you?"

Xu Huiyang's sword heart burned fiercely.

Confucian Heart Sword points only inward. It questions one word: sincerity.

My heart is sincere. Is yours?

He was utterly sincere to the sword, so this technique suited him best—enemies under his spiritual pressure could scarcely move. But now he saw Li Guanyi's spirit reveal images: a vegetable farmer selling his children, a deserter Qian Zheng's letter home, a ghost market trading humans.

Scenes from the past ten years of flight and suffering: a one-armed musician.

The people who thanked him.

The Mohists, traveling ceaselessly across the land—Xu Huiyang seemed to see a flourishing city, so splendid—yet blood seeped from every corner. He saw the young man slowly raise his sword; even under the suppression of the Heart Sword, his spirit still held the will to fight.

Xu Huiyang's purest sword intent slowly solidified, sensing something minute.

Here, brilliance and grandeur rose like the sun's first light.

The boy walked before that sun.

He saw Li Guanyi's final reason for raising his sword.

It seemed another presence whispered deep within Li Guanyi's heart—a voice both ancient and young, merging into grandeur:

"The land is filled with wailing ghosts, the city drenched in blood."

"It is but one thought: to save all living beings."

This sword blazed with brilliance and grandeur, and one stroke fell.