Chapter 35: A Genius Blessed by the Heavens

The more he let his imagination run wild, the more Ouyang Changfeng became convinced that his deduction was absolutely correct.

Satisfied, he smiled and looked at Qingxi. “Disciple, come here. Let your master see whether your cultivation foundation is stable.”

Without waiting for Qingxi’s reply, he had already grasped the young man’s wrist, sensing the flow of spiritual energy with utmost care.

“Astonishing! Your foundation is so solid. Strange! Although you’ve opened all twelve meridians, advancing in the Qi Refinement stage without bottlenecks, to break through ten levels at once and still have such a firm foundation—how is it possible?”

Ouyang Changfeng released his hand, stroked his long beard, and furrowed his brows deeply.

“Perhaps this is an additional effect of having all twelve meridians open…”

Once again, his mind began to fill in the blanks.

In the Lingyuan Sect, never before had anyone opened all twelve meridians. For such an extraordinary prodigy, he had always relied on hearsay. Now, seeing Qingxi with his own eyes, he believed that geniuses with all twelve meridians open must naturally possess an exceptionally solid foundation. Thus, no matter how swiftly they advance, no side effects would appear.

Qingxi had no idea that Ouyang Changfeng’s imagination was spiraling further and further afield.

Learning that Qiu Yingying had not found Qingxi, but that he had nonetheless mastered the rudimentary Sword Qi, Ouyang Changfeng instantly transformed into the image of a wise mentor. “Never did I expect your talent in swordsmanship to be so outstanding. It seems there are matters I must tell you in advance.”

“What matters?” Qingxi was full of confusion, and a trace of apprehension as well.

He knew perfectly well he had not truly mastered any rudimentary Sword Qi; he had simply cultivated the unique art, Sky-Piercing Sword Qi, to its third form.

Still, Qingxi had no intention of explaining. Concerning the unique art and the system’s deduction function, he could reveal nothing to anyone. This was the key to survival in this world—no matter who the other party was, trust was irrelevant; it was simply a principle that could never be breached.

“You may not yet know,” Ouyang Changfeng began, as if lost in a stream of memories, his voice gentle. “But your master is a practitioner of the sword… Of course, most people like to call us swordsmen.”

“In the cultivation world, swordsmen’s combat power far outstrips that of ordinary Qi Refiners. For this reason, swordsmen are called experts among their peers.”

“What makes swordsmen so formidable is their unparalleled Sword Qi. Yet, to comprehend such profound Sword Qi through repeated practice is a most arduous thing…”

At this, Ouyang Changfeng shot Qingxi a peculiar look. “But you, my boy, are impressive indeed. Without even noticing, you’ve cultivated the rudimentary Sword Qi. You are truly a rare prodigy in the way of the sword. I have found myself a treasure of a disciple.”

With a ringing sound, Ouyang Changfeng drew his longsword and gave a gentle swing toward the distance.

A translucent arc of Sword Qi split the air, effortlessly cleaving a massive boulder weighing thousands of pounds in two, the cut surface smooth as glass. Qingxi could not help but marvel.

But what left him even more astounded came next. Ouyang Changfeng strode forward, left hand behind his back, right hand gripping his sword, tracing the air lightly. In an instant, the aura around him transformed from tranquil to fierce, as if an unmatched sword had left its scabbard.

Sword in hand, he moved with grace—thrust, chop, raise, hook, cloud, point, burst, intercept, wrist-flower—all movements seamless as flowing water, forming a complete and natural whole, the bearing of a true sword master.

When the demonstration ended, Ouyang Changfeng returned the sword to its sheath and looked earnestly at Qingxi. “Disciple, remember every movement you just saw. Comprehend them well. If you do, you will certainly be able to manifest true Sword Qi.”

With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and ascended the wooden stairs to the second floor.

As he walked, Ouyang Changfeng mused, “This boy’s comprehension is extraordinary, but that isn’t entirely a good thing. Today, I deliberately performed a complex sequence; he surely won’t remember it all. But that’s just as well—it will let him realize that there are always higher mountains and greater men, so he will retain a healthy reverence for the path of cultivation.”

“When he’s perplexed someday, I’ll explain it to him myself… Ha, wonderful, truly wonderful!” At the corner of the upstairs hallway, he glanced back to see Qingxi, brow tightly knit, seemingly committing the sword forms to memory, and nodded to himself in satisfaction.

In truth, even with his advanced spiritual root and sharpened mind, Qingxi could not commit all the intricacies of Ouyang Changfeng’s demonstration to memory.

But after a moment, Qingxi suddenly slapped his forehead and exited the residence with a smile.

“I can’t remember it all, but the system can!”

He thought to himself as he drew his battered, low-grade Cold Light Sword, recalling the forms Ouyang Changfeng had just demonstrated.

With the system’s slow-motion analysis, Qingxi began to practice.

The first technique: the thrust.

Following the slow-motion guidance in his mind, Qingxi aligned his sword and arm in a straight line, directing the sword forward—a thrust, the force concentrated at the tip.

It was simple enough; after a few repetitions, he had basically mastered it.

The second: the chop.

Again, he followed the slow-motion memory, bringing the sword down from above, force focused along the blade.

At the same time, the system assistant’s voice sounded in his mind: “Analysis complete. The key to the chop is the extension of the elbow, the sword descending from above, force channeled into the blade. Your recent move is basically correct, but further practice is needed.”

“Understood!”

Qingxi blinked, replayed the movements in his head, then continued to practice the various forms: thrust, chop, raise, hook, cloud, point, burst, intercept, wrist-flower, and so forth.

His movements, awkward and clumsy at first, gradually grew more precise. Then, triggering the passive “Epiphany,” he felt his whole body lighten and his mind become incomparably clear.

“So that’s how it is!”

Qingxi realized that wielding the sword did not require rigid adherence to set forms; adaptability was key. He began to vary the combinations of techniques, and the air itself was sliced by his sword, emitting a melodious hum.

Just then, Ouyang Changfeng, who had just brewed a cup of Jade Mountain tea, wandered to the window of the loft.

He sipped contentedly, preparing to observe how Qingxi’s practice was progressing.

“Hmm, the movements are quite standard. Truly a sword prodigy.”

He set his teacup down, reclined on the lounge chair, and basked in the sun.

“With such comprehension, to truly master the forms will probably take him half a month. Then, I can continue to guide him…”

But before he could finish his thought, a piercing sound split the air—as if firecrackers had exploded in a bamboo tube.

Startled, Ouyang Changfeng leapt to his feet, eyes wide as he looked down.

There, he saw Qingxi wielding his sword single-handedly—thrusting, chopping, pointing—and each movement released a blade-thin arc of Sword Qi from the tip, easily cleaving giant stones in two.

“True Sword Qi!”

“This boy’s comprehension is terrifying!”

Ouyang Changfeng’s expression changed dramatically, stunned beyond measure.

In the courtyard below, Qingxi swung his blade, relishing every moment.

By combining Ouyang Changfeng’s demonstrated forms with the unique art, Sky-Piercing Sword Qi, amplified by the low-grade Cold Light Sword, he was able to unlock the ultimate form—the Cicada Wing—its power surging.

“Worthy of being a unique art. Even if it’s only Black Iron grade, it’s astonishing enough. With this sword, even a cultivator at the thirtieth level of Qi Refinement would not dare to take it head-on.”

Immersed in sword practice, Qingxi paid no heed to Ouyang Changfeng, whose expression had frozen on the pavilion above.

“To master true Sword Qi so quickly… This… I simply have nothing left to teach!”

Ouyang Changfeng stood dazed in the wind.