Chapter Twenty-Two: The Contest

In just half a month, Chu Feng had already mastered two sets of sword techniques. This mastery was not merely of the superficial moves, as most people practiced, but a true understanding of the essence behind each technique. For most, sword forms were simply a vehicle for channeling spiritual arts, but that was not the case for him.

This time, Chu Feng decided to adequately prepare his provisions before entering the Library of Scriptures, determined to thoroughly study the swordsmanship within.

Yet now he was penniless. He resolved to borrow money from Xu Yan to buy food.

Early the next morning, as dawn barely broke, Chu Feng arrived under Xu Yan’s dormitory building. He was unaware that, in recent days, rumors had been rampant about him—he had already been pushed to the center of attention. Countless youths wanted to teach him a lesson, but none dared act due to Xu Yan’s formidable reputation.

The gossip had already begun to subside over the past days.

At this moment, as Chu Feng arrived, many young women who had risen early noticed him. It was as if they had discovered a new continent; instantly, a wave of commotion erupted.

“It seems the rumors were true—the main character has appeared after all.”

“I heard Xu Yan has been hiding in her dorm lately, not daring to go out, and he’s actually come here. Incredible!”

“This is what they mean by love conquers all.”

“Why shouldn't I come here?” Chu Feng overheard some of their chatter and couldn't help feeling puzzled.

Even the dormitory attendant, upon seeing Chu Feng, looked at him curiously but still used her spiritual arts to inform Xu Yan of his arrival.

Upon hearing this, Xu Yan nearly lost her composure. She hadn’t expected this wild man to come here—wasn’t this confirming the rumors outright?

In the end, blushing furiously, Xu Yan braced herself and came down anyway.

“Why haven’t I seen you these past few days?” Chu Feng asked as soon as he saw her.

“Who wants to see you?” Xu Yan retorted, glaring daggers at him before striding off without a backward glance.

Chu Feng was momentarily stunned, unable to understand, and quickly caught up to her. Only when they reached a quiet spot did Xu Yan finally stop.

“This is all your fault!” she exclaimed, her delicate fists raining down on Chu Feng.

Bearing the weight of seven hundred catties, Chu Feng felt her punches were light and didn’t dodge, though he felt entirely innocent. “What did I do to offend you?”

“It’s all your fault, you wild brute, you troublemaker!” Xu Yan ignored his protests and kept berating him until she finally stopped.

“By the way, why does everyone seem so odd around me lately? Has something happened?” Chu Feng asked.

Hearing this, Xu Yan’s face grew even redder. She shot him a fierce look—how could she bring herself to mention the rumors?

“So, what did you need me for?” she asked, changing the subject.

Chu Feng grinned and explained his plan.

Xu Yan frowned, “Swordsmanship is ultimately a secondary skill. No matter how refined, it’s unlikely to amount to much. Is it really worth spending so much energy on? You’d do better to study politics or something similar. With your abilities, you could probably make it into the Heavenly Division.”

Chu Feng felt a warm gratitude—he knew Xu Yan’s words came from genuine concern for his future.

He smiled gently, “Everyone has their own path. I like swordsmanship, and it suits me, especially since I can’t channel spirit energy. I believe that if I can fuse a powerful body with swordsmanship, I might yet unleash extraordinary strength. It all depends on how far I can go on the path of body cultivation.”

Xu Yan nodded slightly and said no more. She told him to go to the cafeteria for breakfast and then head straight to the Library of Scriptures; she would take care of the food.

After they parted, Xu Yan went to the stables, fetched a horse, and rode out of the Spirit Battle Pavilion.

Chu Feng, having finished breakfast, returned the “Pine Wind Sword Technique” to its place in the library and was perusing the “Green Sun Sword Art” when Xu Yan found him.

Chu Feng was stunned—Xu Yan had brought an enormous bundle, which, on closer inspection, contained over a hundred catties of food, as well as plenty of water. Most of the provisions were exquisite pastries that would keep for a long time, and, to his amusement, she had even included a few bottles of wine.

From afar, others looked at the pair as if they were seeing something bizarre.

“Wild man, you’d better practice well,” Xu Yan said before taking her leave.

Once she was gone, Chu Feng threw himself wholeheartedly into his swordsmanship studies.

The sword manuals displayed here were the crystallization of generations’ wisdom—each style, whether simple or complex, was distilled excellence, each with its own unique strengths.

Chu Feng became ever more immersed in the ocean of sword techniques, utterly fascinated by every move and form, awed by their ingenuity.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but exclaim, “Marvelous!”

This, unsurprisingly, drew many a sidelong glance, but he paid no heed.

Day after day, Chu Feng ate, drank, slept, and lived in the Library of Scriptures, his mastery of the sword deepening steadily.

Foundation laid, he advanced rapidly. Though each style had unique features, they also shared common threads, and as the difficulty of the techniques increased, Chu Feng’s rate of understanding only grew.

In just four days, he completed studies of ten sword styles, gaining profound inspiration and fully comprehending each move.

After that, as he practiced the remaining introductory sword techniques, he no longer needed to memorize forms; rather, he focused on insight, elevating his own swordsmanship.

There were a hundred sword manuals on the shelves, twenty of which were introductory. Another day passed, and Chu Feng had fully mastered the basic sword arts.

That night, Xiao Yue arrived suddenly, startling many. Who would have thought that a dignified instructor would come to see the “bottom-feeder” of the Twentieth Division?

“You’ve been practicing swordsmanship for quite a while now. Have you gained any insights?” Xiao Yue asked.

Chu Feng grew silent for a moment, then replied, “I think swordsmanship is essentially the art of transformation.”

Xiao Yue’s expression shifted, a hint of astonishment on his face. “What do you mean by that?”

Chu Feng answered earnestly, “Swordsmanship is about speed and change. No matter how fast a blade is, speed has its limit, but change is unfathomable, endless. However exquisite the move, however swift the technique, there will always be flaws. But if every move contains transformation and one trains to a certain level, one can turn the ordinary into the miraculous. Even simple moves, unleashed with ultimate variation, can defeat the enemy.”

Xiao Yue stared at Chu Feng in disbelief. It was the first time he had been so moved; he hadn’t expected Chu Feng to express such insight—insights he had once heard from a master swordsman.

After a long silence, Xiao Yue finally said, “Come, let’s spar a bit.”

Chu Feng hesitated. “Am I really a match for you?”

“We’ll only compare swordsmanship,” Xiao Yue replied.

Chu Feng’s interest was piqued. “Instructor, you’ve studied swordsmanship too?”

Xiao Yue frowned. “What, do you think you’re the only one allowed to practice?”

Delighted, Chu Feng was eager to test himself against another to see just how much his swordsmanship had improved.

But then he frowned, “Let’s do it another time.”

“Why? Are you looking down on me?” Xiao Yue said, his expression darkening.

Chu Feng quickly shook his head and pointed to the food he’d prepared nearby. “It was so much trouble to get all this ready. If I go out now, won’t I be wasting the opportunity?”

Xiao Yue couldn’t help but laugh, though he tried to keep a stern face. “You can come back in a bit—it’ll still count as one session. All right?”

“Alright, let’s go!” Chu Feng agreed.

They went to the training chamber. Chu Feng set aside his weights, and each took up a longsword, quickly beginning their duel.

Xiao Yue deliberately slowed his movements, matching Chu Feng only in technique—after all, as an Earth-ranked Spirit Warrior, his speed and agility were far beyond Chu Feng’s.

Over the years, with his cultivation stagnating, Xiao Yue had systematically studied swordsmanship out of boredom. In terms of technique, his mastery was remarkable—few instructors in the recruits’ camp could rival him.

Now, he matched Chu Feng using only basic sword techniques.

He was soon astonished: Chu Feng’s swordplay was exquisite and fierce, often attacking in unpredictable ways, forcing Xiao Yue to defend moves he had to counter.

Yet, on closer inspection, these were moves Xiao Yue knew well.

For a while, sword shadows danced around them as Xiao Yue found himself on the defensive. He hadn’t expected Chu Feng, with such limited experience, to perform so astonishingly in his first real duel.

Being pressed so hard was unlike Xiao Yue—he shifted his footwork and employed an intermediate sword style, unleashing a sequence of ingenious moves. His swordplay instantly grew sharper, but to his surprise, he still could not suppress Chu Feng.

And Chu Feng continued to use only basic techniques.

“How can this be?” Xiao Yue found it hard to believe. He then unleashed his most advanced style, the Fourteen Deathblows.

Only then did he manage to throw off his passive defense and reach parity with Chu Feng.

“What style is this? I don’t recall ever seeing it,” Xiao Yue wondered. The Library of Scriptures had only so many manuals, and he had read them all—yet nothing matched what Chu Feng was displaying.

Then, with a start, he realized Chu Feng was still using only basic sword techniques.

This revelation was a blow to Xiao Yue’s confidence. “Can advanced techniques really lose to basics?”

At this moment, though Chu Feng’s moves were all drawn from basic styles, there was no fixed pattern—one moment he drew from one set, the next from another, and sometimes the moves were subtly altered from their canonical forms.

His attacks came in endless succession, tumultuous yet fluid. Some moves were ordinary, yet in his hands, they carried extraordinary power, leaving Xiao Yue hard-pressed to defend.

Chu Feng himself felt both excited and amazed. He hadn’t expected his first duel to flow so naturally; though he focused on the art of transformation, many moves simply arose as the spirit moved him.

“So this is transformation?” Xiao Yue thought, recalling Chu Feng’s earlier words. A moment of deep understanding dawned upon him, and he momentarily lost focus.

Just then, Chu Feng spotted a tiny opening, and his sword tip suddenly pressed close to Xiao Yue’s heart.

Chu Feng steadied his blade and smiled, “You’ve lost.”

With that, he withdrew his sword.

Xiao Yue stood stunned, then sighed and put away his sword. “Indeed, I’ve lost. Well done. The art of transformation, indeed.”

“Is there a prize?” Chu Feng grinned cheekily.

Xiao Yue’s face darkened, “A prize, you rascal? Get back to practice! Looking to slack off?”

Chu Feng felt as if doused with cold water. Gathering his things, he trotted out of the training room, muttering, “Instructors are instructors, even when they lose they’re still so high and mighty.”

Xiao Yue stood at the door, watching Chu Feng’s departing figure, his expression complex. He watched for a long time before finally murmuring, “Was he born for the sword?”