Chapter 9: Pouring Out the Candle

Ding-ding-ding~……

"Little rascal, are you cheating?"

……

Night deepened, yet the revelry within the depths of the buildings continued unabated.

In the spacious front courtyard, moonlight shimmered like polished silk.

Meiqiu picked up fallen leaves from the ground and placed them into a bamboo basket beside the wall, appearing as if she were a personal maid sweeping the courtyard.

Xie Jinhuan balanced on two fingers, inverted and seated in meditation upon the central Bai Shi pathway, his right hand flipping through a cultivation technique journal.

His cultivation technique was the "Huanxi Heart Sutra," which included the accompanying moves "Silver Dragon Eight Forms," and the journal contained additional insights and reflections.

Among the myriad sects of Daqian, the Xiuxingliu Sects could broadly be categorized as "Immortal, Buddhist, Martial, Shamanic, and Demon," though their methods differed vastly, their ultimate Dao was the same—they all refined the "Primordial Qi of All Things," also known as "Primordial One Qi."

Because "One Qi gives birth to Yin and Yang, Yin and Yang divide into the Five Phases," the various Xuan Sect sects leaned toward different paths and rarely shared common ground.

For instance, martial artists followed the path of balance, refining only the "One Qi," without splitting Yin and Yang or the Five Phases.

Lightning belongs to the Five Phases' Wood, supremely yang and fiercely rigid; to wield such a technique, one's cultivation technique must inherently lean toward yang.

Thus, pure martial artists normally could never manifest Xuan Sect magical arts.

But Xie Jinhuan had long held a hypothesis—that with transcendent mastery, he could reverse the technique, causing his refined true qi to split and separate, first dividing into five, then selecting one from the five, thereby enabling him to wield Xuan Sect divine arts using pure martial qi.

The advantage of this method was that it could forcibly achieve "all arts accessible"—any divine art could be used immediately.

But the drawback was obvious: reversing the flow was astronomically difficult, and by selecting only one of the five, even with one hundred percent efficiency, he could only unleash one-fifth of his true strength.

The "Palmar Lightning" he demonstrated before Yang Dabiao today was produced this way—consuming more qi than "Black Dragon Ramming the Pillar," yet producing only a few tiny sparks, with qi utilization under five percent.

Yet this method perfectly matched his former personal style: "capable of everything, but proficient in nothing."

Xie Jinhuan felt this technique held great potential and continued refining it, though he had made little progress, when he heard a sound from the alley:

Hu~

A white shadow appeared atop the wall.

Xie Jinhuan, inverted on his fingers, looked down and saw a swordswoman on the wall, cold and ethereal as a celestial maiden.

The woman wore a snow-white gown, her legs long and straight, curving elegantly at the hips, her waist tightly cinched to an exquisite slenderness, and above it, her chest was full, perfectly proportioned.

Her arched eyebrows like distant mountains, paired with a high, straight nose, gave her face a frosty aloofness; her bright eyes gleamed with sharp clarity, lacking the usual demure softness of a maiden.

Seeing such a coldly beautiful beauty appear unannounced, Xie Jinhuan felt a flicker of confusion:

"Miss, who are you?"

Linghu Qingmo had originally worn a cold, distant expression, but upon looking down, she saw the man in the courtyard inverted on two fingers, seated in meditation upon the stone bricks, left hand holding a book, clad only in thin trousers.

Though the inverted posture was bizarre, it was still clear his limbs were long, his face handsome, his chest and waist bare beneath the moonlight, his proportions flawless, his skin white and unblemished, like a sculpture carved from pure Bai Yu—eight-pack abs and pectoral muscles…

?

Linghu Qingmo, raised as a pure young Daoist nun, suddenly glimpsed a young man half-naked—how could she endure it? She immediately turned her gaze away:

"What are you doing?"

Xie Jinhuan closed his book and flipped upright, glancing around:

"Practicing cultivation. This is my home. Miss, did you get lost?"

At noon in Dongcang Alley, Linghu Qingmo had seen only his back, and judging by his strength, she had assumed Xie Jinhuan was roughly the same age as Yang Dabiao.

Now she saw the young Young Master in the courtyard—his age matched hers, his appearance and aura nothing like the ruthless man from the day—and she began to wonder if she'd mistaken the place, glancing left and right:

"Are you Xie Jinhuan?"

Xie Jinhuan sensed this woman had ill intent, but he didn't recognize her; after a moment's thought, he bowed slightly:

"I am. Miss, who exactly are you?"

Linghu Qingmo realized this was indeed the person she sought—her heart sank halfway.

After all, a martial artist around thirty accidentally injuring her was merely an accident; an apology sufficed.

But a peer of similar age, knocking her—the rightful heir of Mount Zihui—unconscious with a single blow—that escalated to a matter of sect honor.

If she didn't reclaim her dignity, how could Mount Zihui ever stand tall in the world again?

Her master would return after the Mid-Autumn Festival—wouldn't he expel her from the sect then?

Realizing this, Linghu Qingmo's demeanor shifted instantly; seeing he wore no armor and hadn't recognized her, she drew her blue-sheathed sword:

"We just met—have you forgotten so quickly?"

Xie Jinhuan glanced at the sword—it resembled Zhenglun Sword, standard issue for Mount Zihui—but he had never seen this person before, his expression puzzled.

"Dongcang Alley."

"?"

Xie Jinhuan finally understood, his eyes widening in shock as he studied the woman atop the wall—her chest muscles prominent:

"You're that big brother who ambushed me this morning?"

?

Linghu Qingmo, hearing this absurd remark, immediately frowned in fury:

"Who are you calling an ambush?"

Xie Jinhuan realized this wasn't a celestial beauty come to visit—she was a Wang Fu guard here to settle scores. He couldn't apologize now; if he did, all blame would fall on him, and he might even have to pay medical fees—he had no silver!

"You're no longer young—why so reckless? At noon, I was fighting for my life against demonic bandits. You attacked from behind without warning—do you know how dangerous that was?"

"Luckily, I didn't use my full strength, or you'd already be dead. I slew demons and purified evil, yet was mistaken for a criminal, thrown into prison, and humiliated—truly…" *sigh*

Linghu Qingmo had faced the Breaking Sea Dragon directly—she'd felt Xie Jinhuan wanted to turn her into dumpling filling; had she not dodged in time, she'd have died then—she didn't believe for a second he held back.

Yet upon reflection, she admitted she'd rushed in after discovering the Daoist dead, without assessing the situation—she'd been injured herself, and worse, she'd caused Xie Jinhuan to be imprisoned half the day.

Linghu Qingmo felt a pang of guilt; after a moment, she leapt down into the courtyard:

"At noon, I was indeed reckless—I sincerely apologize."

Xie Jinhuan saw that the Miss was very reasonable and secretly breathed a sigh of relief:

"It is good that you understand. Remember this in the future: if your kung fu is not solid, do not rush so recklessly. The Jianghu road is long, but life is only yours once..."

Kung fu not solid...

As a direct disciple of Mount Zihui, Linghu Qingmo could not bear being lectured like a junior by a peer, even though she knew there was a gap in strength; she still drew her sword and assumed the demeanor of a Sword Immortal:

"Do you know who I am?"

Xie Jinhuan saw that the Miss was young, yet she had taken his move to her chest and remained lively; he knew her background was extraordinary and glanced slightly at her sword:

"Are you an inner sect disciple of Mount Zihui?"

Linghu Qingmo placed one hand behind her back, assuming the demeanor of her master, Nangong Xianzi:

"I am Linghu Qingmo of Mount Zihui. My master is the current sect master of Mount Zihui, who now serves as a Squad Leader in the City Guard, in charge of matters regarding demons and evil spirits causing chaos in the city..."

By introducing her family, Linghu Qingmo was preparing to issue a challenge and engage in a fair exchange of skills.

But Xie Jinhuan's reaction was truly unusual; hearing that she was the disciple of the 'Most Beautiful of the Dao Sect', he immediately showed doubt:

"You are Nangong Xianzi's disciple? You couldn't even withstand half of my move; did you only inherit your master's beauty?"

"You..."

These words were nothing short of the ultimate humiliation to a cultivator!

Linghu Qingmo's apricot eyes widened, her chest heaved, and she nearly lost her breath, thinking inwardly:

Is this my weakness? This is clearly because you are too strong!

I took your killing move to my chest and am still lively; what more do you want?

However, saying that would only boost the enemy's morale.

Linghu Qingmo could only grit her teeth and explain:

"Today I was rushing to save someone; in my haste, I was unprepared, and thus I was accidentally injured by you. If we were to fight face-to-face, the outcome would be uncertain."

"Is that so?"

Xie Jinhuan's eyes were full of doubt.

He knew this Miss was skilled, but who was Nangong Xianzi?

The most beautiful sword hero whose name was known throughout Dajiangnanbei, the second-ranked mountain-top ancestor in Danzhou, a Daoist immortal master who had slain countless demons and evil spirits, the dream bride he had heard of like thunder since childhood!

If a disciple personally trained by such a figure could not even withstand half of his move, then what kind of monster must her master be?

Although Linghu Qingmo did not hear Xie Jinhuan's words, she felt the greatest contempt and doubt of her life in his eyes; she could no longer bear it, drew her sword, and said:

"I already said the daytime was an accident. If you are not convinced, I will spar with you again."

Xie Jinhuan knew the Jianghu status of Sect Master Nangong and completely disbelieved that this Miss could be Nangong Xianzi's disciple.

Even if she was, she was probably the youngest, insignificant disciple, pulling the tiger's skin as a banner here.

Seeing that the other party wanted a one-on-one duel, Xie Jinhuan did not refuse; he took the Tiangang Mace from beside the steps:

"It is Miss Linghu who is unconvinced. If you wish to spar, that is fine, but I have a condition."

"What condition?"

Xie Jinhuan glanced at the courtyard full of fallen leaves:

"If you lose, sweep the courtyard for me, so Meiqiu doesn't have to work hard."

Linghu Qingmo frowned, glanced at the huge two-courtyard mansion, and retorted:

"What if you lose?"

"If I lose, I will give Meiqiu to you."

"Gugu?"

Meiqiu, holding a fallen leaf in her mouth, looked shocked!

Linghu Qingmo looked at the spiritual-energy-filled big Meiqiu and was actually a bit tempted, but seeing Xie Jinhuan's confidence, she was not without caution in her heart:

"Very well, a gentleman's word is as binding as four horses. Mount Zihui follows the path of dual cultivation of sword qi; I am skilled in thunder arts and also proficient in sword techniques. Be careful, sir."

Xie Jinhuan raised his left hand, as if holding the sun and moon in his palm:

"My style is quite mixed; I know everything. I was still researching this move just now, so its power is hard to determine. Miss, you should be careful too."

As his words left his mouth, a light breeze blew through the mansion, stirring the white skirt hem, and then intensified, like a stormy tide!

Whoosh~

Meiqiu quickly jumped onto the steps and peeked out from behind the corridor pillar to observe.

Seeing Xie Jinhuan's tall figure's momentum rising step by step, Linghu Qingmo thought Xie Jinhuan was about to unleash the 'Sword Formation for Executing Immortals', but upon careful feeling, it did not seem so; she gripped her sword with her right hand, assuming a posture as if facing a great enemy, and asked:

"What technique is this?"

"Upside-down candle, a unique divine art."

"Upside-down candle?"

Linghu Qingmo was baffled; she discovered that there were indeed traces of true qi flowing on Xie Jinhuan, but it did not seem like he was gathering strength, so she asked again:

"True qi is overflowing; it seems you are not gathering qi. Are you dissipating your power?"

Xie Jinhuan acted against the natural order, frantically dividing his own true qi; his state was indeed dissipating power.

However, he only dissipated four-fifths, retaining some within his body.

After accumulating enough qi mechanism for one use, Xie Jinhuan tilted his chin:

"Are you ready?"

Linghu Qingmo's brows tightened; she wanted to strike first to gain the upper hand, but at this moment:

Boom—

Only a dull sound was heard; the figure originally standing in the center of the courtyard had suddenly crashed right in front of her!

Linghu Qingmo had already anticipated this, but she still underestimated Xie Jinhuan's explosive power; the distance of three zhang between them made it impossible to cast thunder arts or divine abilities in time, so she could only pull back and draw her sword to meet the enemy.

Clang—

In a flash of swordlight, Linghu Qingmo's figure nearly became a afterimage, her three-foot blade slashing toward the waist and abdomen with the momentum of a charging thunderbolt.

But at that same moment, Xie Jinhuan drew his Tiangang mace, the heavy mace lifting to meet the descending long sword, while his left hand, like a azure dragon reaching with its claw, struck straight at the center opening!

This move was a normal combination of attack and defense; Linghu Qingmo could see through it completely, and had intended to lightly rotate her wrist to bypass the iron mace, sending her sword toward Xie Jinhuan's chest.

But what she never dreamed would happen was that this young Young Master with thick eyebrows and big eyes, at the moment the two blades met, suddenly had a dim cyan flow of light surge from his right hand, and then:

Crackling—

The snow-bright iron mace was instantly wrapped in electric sparks, then vanished in a flash!

As a disciple of Mount Zihui, Linghu Qingmo recognized this as the common Daoist technique 'Thunder Binding Sword'!

This move wraps weapons in thunder, possessing infinite killing power against evil spirits and ghosts, and can cause paralysis effects even against ordinary people.

Xie Jinhuan did not know from where he had learned this obscure cultivation technique; the Thunder Binding Sword's power was extremely small, could not even be sustained, and was hard to cause actual killing damage.

But no matter how small the power, it could not be stopped when the timing was used well.

Linghu Qingmo did not expect Xie Jinhuan to have this move; at the instant the two blades met, a numbness spread through half her body, causing her movement technique to freeze for an instant, and then:

Boom~

Xie Jinhuan's left hand, a 'Azure Dragon Reaching Claw', penetrated the center opening without any obstruction, landing on Linghu Qingmo's chest.

Though the sparring did not use full strength, the five fingers still sank into the garment, feeling soft, pliant, and springy...

(End of this chapter)