The peach-blossom eyes left only a sliver of light.
Though Gu Shenzhi maintained a composed, meditative demeanor, he was secretly keeping an eye on the shifting dynamics of the situation.
Even with his assistance, Mo Xiaonian was still destined to lose.
The gap between her and the Red Lotus Saintess was insurmountable.
In terms of swordsmanship alone, the difference between them spanned at least a decade of experience.
Swordsmanship, in its simplicity, is just a matter of slashing, chopping, thrusting, parrying, and swinging—a handful of moves anyone with functional limbs could perform.
But its complexity is as daunting as scaling the heavens.
Sword techniques, sword momentum, sword energy, sword intent, and sword heart—merely mastering techniques and momentum could confound an ordinary person for half a lifetime, yielding no true understanding.
Gu Shenzhi began practicing the sword at seven.
By nine, he had grasped the basics of crisscrossing sword energy.
When the elders of the Spirit Sword Sect praised him as the foremost in inner sect sword intent, his age was but a fraction of some of his senior brothers.
At fifteen, he comprehended the sword heart during a casual sword dance.
Afterward, he entered the Scripture Pavilion, studying the Benevolent Sword Heart left by the sect’s founder, Sword One True Man, alongside the elders.
Now, at the age of twenty, Gu Shenzhi had finally glimpsed the essence of the Benevolent Sword Heart, faintly grasping a sliver of its true meaning.
The adage “attack with three parts, reserve seven parts” seemed like a flower in the mirror or a moon in the water—merely a form without substance in the eyes of the unenlightened.
Most common interpretations stopped at rote memorization, seeing the mountain as a mountain.
Those with a bit more insight, like Gu Shenzhi’s late father, Sect Leader Gu Yun, believed the eight-word maxim was a ruse.
Sword One True Man’s true lesson was about wielding the power of a spiritual sword freely, capable of slaying demons or slicing vegetables with equal ease.
This was the stage of seeing the mountain as not a mountain.
Gu Shenzhi, the young master of the Moon Shadow Sect, had a unique perspective.
Unlike the previous two, he believed “attack with three parts” meant that only three parts of external force were used to strike the enemy, while “reserve seven parts” referred to honing one’s own will, where cultivating the sword heart held seven parts of significance.
Only by reaching this understanding could one achieve Sword One True Man’s epiphany of seeing the mountain as a mountain again.
After mastering the Benevolent Sword Heart, Gu Shenzhi could communicate with any sword spirit, not limited to the one in his own blade.
Legend has it that Sword One True Man once slew a half-step Void Realm White Evil Dragon in the Misty Fate Marsh of Muyun Continent.
At the time, with only peak Spirit Transformation cultivation, he was at a disadvantage and on the verge of defeat.
At that critical moment, he declared loudly, “Remnant souls of the righteous who fought the evil dragon, I beseech you to lend your swords to aid me in slaying the dragon.”
As his words fell, ten thousand spiritual swords burst from the water’s surface, hanging inverted in the sky, their blades aimed at the White Evil Dragon.
If relying on spiritual energy, fifteen hundred swords were Sword One True Man’s limit.
But with the sword heart to command them, even tens of thousands of swords would not faze him.
He remained calm and composed.
To him, controlling swords with the sword heart was true “command,” while using spiritual energy was merely “driving” them.
At this moment, Gu Shenzhi was engaged in the act of commanding swords—not his own [Falling Plum] in its sheath, but the [Evil Phoenix] in the hands of the Red Lotus Saintess.
Even Su Linghuang herself was unaware of what was happening, so how could Mo Xiaonian know?
At most, she felt a flicker of doubt about her own actions.
The black-robed youth cautiously maintained control over [Evil Phoenix].
Due to the blood essence of the Black Feather Phoenix, its sword spirit’s ferocity and resentment far surpassed ordinary spiritual swords, making it a challenge for Gu Shenzhi, who had only recently attained the Benevolent Sword Heart.
Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one pushed to the limit—Mo Xiaonian was as well.
He had reduced [Evil Phoenix]’s sword momentum by over ninety percent.
Even if she couldn’t withstand it, she wouldn’t perish.
Snow and wind swirled freely.
The stunning woman in red, standing in the night, had no mind to care for her appearance.
Her silver teeth clenched, her sword intent layered, her aura surging wave after wave, reaching the peak of her Foundation Establishment stage.
Across the vast Muyun Continent, perhaps only Gu Shenzhi could make the Red Lotus Saintess take a fight so seriously.
In Su Linghuang’s eyes, her true opponent was never Mo Xiaonian, but the black-robed youth leaning against the wall, half lost in thought, half smiling.
The Saintess of the Demonic Path versus the Young Master of the Righteous Path—a clash of prodigies.
Under the overwhelming pressure of a true phoenix soaring through the sky, Mo Xiaonian could barely hold on.
Her pale, delicate arms trembled violently, her slender hand gripping the sword now stained crimson with blood.
Yet she persisted.
The strength displayed by the Red Lotus Saintess far exceeded her imagination.
Even three Mo Lins at the Foundation Establishment stage wouldn’t withstand a single slash from Su Linghuang.
What shocked Mo Xiaonian more was that she had lasted this long.
By her own estimation of her strength, she should have been utterly defeated by now.
Doubt lingered in her heart, but fear and cowardice had mostly dissipated.
Gradually… she grew tired.
With a crack, [Fish Dance] was sent flying several meters, embedding itself deep into a decorative rockery in the Phoenix Perch Courtyard—so deep that even the hilt was nearly buried.
Mo Xiaonian’s dantian was drained of spiritual energy.
Overwhelming exhaustion consumed her, and she fainted, having nearly sacrificed her life in the duel.
As a senior, Su Linghuang gently caught the girl’s delicate frame, preventing her from collapsing to the ground.
She held a certain fondness for this junior sister, whose perseverance was far from ordinary.
Of course, her primary reason for catching Mo Xiaonian was to prevent a certain someone from taking advantage of the situation.
“With nine layers of sword intent, it seems the Saintess’s swordsmanship ranks among the top three of Muyun Continent’s younger generation. I was blind to have underestimated you,” Gu Shenzhi said respectfully, bowing as he approached his wife.
“And yet, I still lost to you, the Young Master of the Spirit Sword Sect, the self-proclaimed second-best swordmaster of Muyun,” Su Linghuang retorted with a playful huff.
His near-miraculous methods had opened her eyes, and she still couldn’t fathom how he had done it.
“Just luck, nothing more. Perhaps the Saintess held back out of sect camaraderie,” Gu Shenzhi replied.
“Hmph,” Su Linghuang turned to the black-robed youth, her crimson eyes like a blood-red sword, filled with mock indignation.
“I don’t like it when you talk like that. It makes us sound so distant. How do you see me—as your wife or a spy planted by the Moon Shadow Sect?”
Faced with the stunning girl’s question, Gu Shenzhi was secretly delighted.
He had casually set a trap, not expecting the proud Red Lotus Saintess to fall for it so easily.
“Alas, I never thought that in Huang’er’s eyes, I’d be such a scheming, suspicious villain. It… it truly saddens me.”
Gu Shenzhi turned away, his back to Su Linghuang, his voice and body trembling as if he’d suffered a great injustice.
He knew the Red Lotus Saintess disliked flattery, and his earlier words were bait to lure her in.
“Are you alright?” Su Linghuang asked cautiously.
Her mood had soured after her defeat, and her words might have been harsh, but surely he wasn’t that hurt?
The black-robed youth didn’t respond, only leaning against the courtyard wall, sighing mournfully.
“Please don’t be like this. Huang’er apologizes to her husband, alright?” Su Linghuang, no longer paying attention to her junior sister in her arms, focused entirely on Gu Shenzhi.
After all, a junior sister couldn’t compare to her husband.
Gu Shenzhi remained silent for a moment before saying sorrowfully, “Huang’er won’t even call me ‘husband’ in public. How could I dare to presume too much?”
“That’s not what I meant—don’t misunderstand!” Su Linghuang embraced him from behind, her soft, full chest pressing against his back, slightly flattened despite their remarkable elasticity.
Seizing the moment, Gu Shenzhi trailed his hand along her fair, rosy neck, gently nibbling her crystalline earlobe, and said tenderly, “Call me ‘husband.’ Mean it.”
“Husband,” the girl murmured with a sweet, breathless voice.
“Not enough. It lacks sincerity.”
Su Linghuang paused, her eyes misty, cheeks flushed an unusual shade of crimson, as if intoxicated.
In a voice dripping with charm, she purred, “Husband~”