Chapter 85: Who Will Battle Me? (Young Priestess Chen Yu and the Heshibi Jade)

“I’ve heard that Master Shi’s ancestors trace back to the Tang dynasty, to the great blade master Shi Chongtian, a lineage of considerable antiquity. Master Shi himself is renowned for his mastery of the blade, so it’s hardly surprising he possesses the ‘Zhenguan Blade Method.’ Teaching this technique to that boy—are you perhaps searching for an heir to your art?”

The woman’s laughter was light, tinged with amusement, drifting like wind chimes.

Many disciples’ expressions shifted at once, and they glanced instinctively at their teacher.

Master Shi’s face was as steady as a mountain. He chuckled, “You jest, Miss Ninth. My ancestors were but humble martial men, not the celebrated masters you suggest. As for the ‘Zhenguan Blade Method,’ it is a technique available to all in this academy. If it were a matter of inheritance, I would gladly see every student here excel and carry forward the Tang blade tradition.”

His words were forthright, and the disciples found them reasonable. Indeed, the technique was open to all; there was no special privilege for this Ah A.

Yet Sui Yi was surprised. The Tang blade—while famed—had few orthodox and complete methods passed down through the ages; most were said to be lost. Some claimed that the great families of the Tang preserved rare manuscripts. If Shi Yunkai truly possessed such a copy, it spoke volumes about his family’s deep foundations.

Of course, the grandeur of their ancestral home alone was proof enough of their heritage.

As for this Miss Ninth, her status was clearly exalted. She showed little deference to Master Shi, her words edged with contention. What struck Sui Yi most was how effortlessly she recognized Ah A’s blade technique.

There were only two explanations: either she was intimately familiar with it, or she herself had mastered it.

Whichever the case, this Miss Ninth was not to be underestimated.

Even though Sui Yi, hidden behind the angle of the osmanthus tree, could not see Miss Ninth’s face, she knew the woman was very young.

Smack! The first form, ‘Horizontal Blade on Horseback,’ had already cycled through seven moves—‘Draw Blade to Sever Water,’ ‘Grandfather Fishes,’ ‘Wu Gang Chops Laurel’—each attack seamlessly flowing into the next. Windkiller responded with flawless defense, the two opponents reduced to fierce shadows. The fallen osmanthus petals rose and were shredded by whirling steel. Ah A’s aura was no longer unruly and carefree, but cold, severe, his killing intent wild and unrestrained.

“Heh, you’ve improved greatly.” Windkiller shifted his weight, flipping backward. As his head dipped, the Tang blade swept horizontally beneath.

The airborne fighter aimed a heavy kick downward, while the grounded opponent raised his blade.

Clang!

A dull impact, like muffled thunder.

Ah A’s waist shuddered from the force of Windkiller’s strike, sinking slightly. But with a low cry, he twisted his blade—

The style changed at once—fierce, commanding, domineering!

That stroke, an upward slash, was a thing of beauty.

The disciples gasped in awe; even Master Shi was astonished, his hand clutching his beard, forgetting to let go.

That blade was dazzling—a single upward arc. Windkiller’s expression shifted. Twisting his legs, his body shot away like a hurled lead ball in a perfect parabola.

He landed, feet rebounding from the weapon rack, body inverted like a spider, hands pressing against the rack, eyes sharp as frost. In that instant, Ah A surged forward, feet swift as wind and fire, launching a second, even more brilliant strike.

Windkiller laughed fiercely. “Good lad! Looks like I’ll have to draw my sword as well.”

He snatched a sword from the weapon rack—a three-foot, azure blade. With a spring of his legs, he shot downward, and blade met sword in a clash that rang through the air—

Crash!

In a single breath, all the osmanthus petals on the ground lifted, scattering to the four winds. Many students stared wide-eyed.

The energy of these two—

Clack!

They landed simultaneously, ten meters apart, the tips of blade and sword carving sharp lines into the earth.

For a long moment, osmanthus petals drifted down.

Master Shi nodded slightly to Ah A, then turned to Miss Ninth. “What do you think, Miss?”

“Evenly matched,” was all Miss Ninth said.

Master Shi was momentarily speechless, then broke into laughter. “Judging by the distance, I’d say Ah A still falls short of Windkiller. How can you call that a draw? Or do you think, Miss, that Ah A deserves a handicap because of his youth?”

Miss Ninth glanced at Windkiller, her smile cool and faint. “If my man does not utterly defeat his opponent, he has lost.”

What arrogance and dominance! The academy fell silent. Master Shi was stunned, then shook his head with a wry smile. What a formidable young woman.

Neither Ah A nor Windkiller could compare to this Miss Ninth.

“Miss, I have shamed you,” Windkiller said, bowing his head slightly before Miss Ninth, his face stern.

She responded with a soft “Mm,” seemingly indifferent or perhaps displeased with Windkiller, then turned her gaze to Ah A. “Eighteen?”

“Almost nineteen,” Ah A replied, frowning slightly under her deep, luminous eyes. This woman was far from simple, as if she could see through him at a glance.

“Heh, close enough. You’re only eighteen, yet your internal strength has reached a year’s worth. So you must have begun cultivating by fifteen or sixteen at the latest.”

Typically, a martial artist’s internal strength is measured by years, though it’s not always a year for a year—those of average talent may take several years to gain one year’s worth, while the gifted can acquire several years’ worth in less than one. Such is the difference of aptitude.

Windkiller’s internal strength slightly surpassed Ah A’s, which was why he had the edge. Yet Miss Ninth declared it a draw.

And she was entirely correct.

Ah A’s face flickered. Even Master Shi glanced at Miss Ninth; he could see as much, but hadn’t expected her to discern it so easily.

“Would you consider coming with me?” Miss Ninth asked casually, causing a stir among the academy—was she really poaching talent in the open?

Master Shi could only sigh in resignation. “Miss Ninth, that’s hardly fair play…”

“No need to be anxious. Those who wish to stay will stay, no matter what I say; those who wish to go will leave, regardless of your efforts.”

Her words revealed a certain roguish cunning, making Sui Yi’s lips curl in amusement. This Miss Ninth was indeed fascinating.

“No, I’m fine here,” Ah A replied, declining her offer, much to Master Shi’s secret relief. But as he relaxed, he caught the faint, knowing smile on Miss Ninth’s lips. In a flash, he realized: she hadn’t truly meant to poach Ah A, only to test Master Shi’s regard for him.

How crafty!

Several matches had resulted in defeat and a draw—hardly a proud record. The academy thought the matter settled, but they hadn’t expected what Miss Ninth would say next—

“My turn now. I wonder if Master Shi would care to spar with me?”

At this, several of Master Shi’s senior disciples bristled with anger. “Miss, isn’t this going too far?”

“Our master is advanced in years. No matter the outcome, there’s no honor in fighting you…”

“To fight you would be utterly improper!”

There are many rules to martial contests, akin to the unspoken codes of the martial world—elders do not duel the young. If the elder wins, it’s bullying; if the elder loses, it’s humiliating. Given Master Shi’s age and status, it was entirely inappropriate for him to spar with a young woman, however brilliant she was.

That was why the disciples protested.

Master Shi frowned as well. “Miss Ninth, with your exceptional talent, there are many outstanding contenders in the provincial capital. I must decline...”

“Then pick a disciple. Surely you won’t make me leave today without a bout?”

Her voice was undeniably forceful, yet melodious and compelling.

At that moment, Sui Yi heard her add, “If Master Shi can’t decide, then I’ll choose for myself…”

Under everyone’s gaze, Miss Ninth’s slender fingers traced over the assembled students. Many thought she would choose Ah A, but instead—

Her finger pointed at an osmanthus tree.

The crowd was stunned.

A sense of foreboding welled up within Ah A; just as he was about to volunteer, Miss Ninth smiled and spoke: “The one watching at the door—surely you know you must pay for a show. You didn’t think you’d watch for free, did you?”

There was someone at the door?

One of Master Shi’s disciples, annoyed, started toward the entrance, only to hear footsteps approaching, the sound of something being dragged along the ground.

Then—

A girl, even younger than Ah A, stepped out, dragging a broom in one hand. She stopped a dozen paces from the crowd, her expression calm. “Sorry, I was just here to sweep.”

So you’re not even playing the bystander—you’re just here to clean?

Seeing her uniform and broom, the academy realized at once: a new student?

A girl?

And an exceptionally attractive one at that.

Master Shi noted the composure in Sui Yi’s brow and eyes and frowned slightly. Ah A spoke up, “She’s a friend of mine, also here to learn martial arts.” Then, addressing Miss Ninth, he said, “She wasn’t spying intentionally. Please forgive her.”

“I’m not blaming her for watching,” Miss Ninth replied earnestly, her gaze bright as she studied Sui Yi. “I simply want to test my skills against her.”

At that, Sui Yi finally looked at the famed Miss Ninth.

She was tall—over five foot seven—in jeans that were neither tight nor loose, accentuating her long, straight legs. On her feet were khaki Milan round-toed boots. A loose, cream V-neck tee was tucked into her waistband, complemented by a gray-brown belt, the colors blending to perfection. Over this, she wore a thin, soft black leather vest, wild in its lines, exuding both presence and independence.

It was the look of a soldier—fierce, untamed, cool.

Yet the large, British-plaid scarf at her neck lent a touch of elegance and nobility.

That blend of military sharpness and British refinement set her apart from the crowd—her stature filled out her clothes, and, what’s more, she was strikingly beautiful. With no makeup, her complexion was as radiant as dawn on fresh snow, her eyes bright, her teeth like jade, her lips a vivid red. Yet every line of brow and eye betrayed a wild and captivating spirit.

(To be continued. If you enjoy this novel, please support it on Qidian with votes and recommendations—your encouragement is my greatest motivation. Mobile readers, please visit m.read.)