Half of the Maple Forest Pavilion had already collapsed, and there were broken walls and broken windows everywhere.
As the sunlight fell, it was separated from the tall red maples by the thin clouds that were gradually drifting back.
The dim light was refracted by thousands of swords and did not become bright. It was more like the reflection of water.
Chen Chang Sheng loosened his grip and the short sword that had been hidden in the flower pot for many years flew away, merging with the rain of swords in the sky.
He reached out and plucked a sword from the air, as if he was plucking a fruit from a fruit tree in autumn.
This sword was also very short, but it was extremely bright and incomparably sharp. It was precisely Stainless.
The wooden bun had been broken into two, and no one knew where it had fallen.
The Vault Sheath landed at Shang Xingzhou's feet.
This scabbard, named Vault Sheath, was an important treasure of Li Palace. After Chen Chang Sheng left Xi Ning Village, he had always kept it by his side.
At first, this might have just been a casual stroke of Shang Xingzhou's, but today, it had finally become an incredible hidden trick.
At the beginning of the battle, he had taken the Vault Sheath from Chen Chang Sheng's hands.
The Vault Sheath isolated Chen Chang Sheng's divine sense, preventing him from recalling those swords.
He had fallen into a hopeless situation. It could even be said that he was in a dead end.
But later on, he found many swords in the Orthodox Academy, and all of them had sword intents.
The scabbard could isolate his divine sense, but for some reason, it could not completely isolate the sword intent.
Sword intent was the meaning of sword.
The meaning of those swords was to summon, to stand shoulder to shoulder, to undress, to be comrades.
At this point, the scabbard could no longer stop all the swords from leaving, despite its name.
Because those sword intents were showing off their sharpness.
…
…
The Prince of Xiang's eyes were a little red, perhaps because of the sawdust drifting out of the Orthodox Academy.
Perhaps it was because he could see those sharp sword wills through the thick courtyard walls.
He raised his sleeve to wipe his eyes, then suddenly turned around and walked out of Hundred Blossom Street, causing quite a commotion.
Wang Po glanced at him but did not follow.
It didn't take long for the Prince of Xiang to appear on the Bridge of Helplessness.
Winter had already passed and all living things had come to life. Spring was about to arrive. The Luo River had already melted and was slowly flowing, carrying with it a few icy dregs.
Two streams of tears flowed down the Prince of Xiang's cheeks.
His face was round and big, so the scene looked a little funny, but not sad.
Standing beside him was a white-haired old man. His face was round and big, and he looked a little comical. Perhaps it could be said that he was extremely festive.
The old man was called Cao Yunping. He was the nephew of the Elder of Heavenly Secrets and was once one of the Storms of the Eight Directions. One-hundred-some years ago, he was defeated by Su Li's sword. In his grief and indignation, he disregarded the advice of the Elder of Heavenly Secrets and the Tianhai Divine Empress, crippling all his techniques and starting from the beginning. In the end, he suffered a cultivation defect, a problem with his brain.
In recent years, Cao Yunping rarely appeared in front of others.
Very few people knew that Chen Changsheng had met him on his way to White Emperor City.
He was originally invited by someone in power to make things difficult for Chen Chang Sheng, but in the end, he was persuaded by Chen Chang Sheng to prioritize the overall situation of the human race.
Later on, he killed Mu Jiushi in the Western Sea.
Yes, this expert of the Divine Domain had already recovered his cultivation and was even stronger than before.
As for intelligence, no one knew whether he was really as innocent as a child, or whether he had learned to act innocent.
But why had he appeared in the capital today, and why had he met with the Prince of Xiang by the Luo River?
Could it be that the person who had invited him to make things difficult for Chen Changsheng had been the Prince of Xiang?
"Why are you crying?"
Cao Yunping looked at the Prince of Xiang and very seriously asked, "Because no one is willing to give you candy to eat?"
Without waiting for the Prince of Xiang's reply, he quickly added, "Xu Yourong only gave me one bag of candy, so I can't share it with you."
These were two very simple sentences, seemingly childish and cute, perhaps even pitiful, but they had already revealed enough information.
If these were the conditions for negotiation, then these were very clear.
The Prince of Xiang used a handkerchief to wipe the tears from the corner of his eyes and sighed, "I'm sad because the venerable Daoist is about to lose. My days from now on will be very difficult."
Cao Yunping froze at these words, and then he grinned and innocently said, "You swindler, how could that be possible?"
Yes, there was no reason for Shang Xingzhou to lose to Chen Changsheng. The difference in cultivation levels between the two was too great.
But in this battle between master and disciple, there had been a precondition from the very start: Shang Xingzhou had to suppress his cultivation below the Divine Domain.
He alone possessed the South Stream Temple sword array. The current Chen Changsheng could be considered the strongest expert below the Divine Domain. Not even the Demon Lord or Qiushan Jun were a match for him. Even in the tens of thousands of years of history of cultivation, it would be very difficult to find someone as powerful as him before breaking into the Divine Domain.
The Prince of Xiang glanced over the academy wall and began to cry. He had seen those sword intents and was truly rather disappointed.
It seemed like Shang Xingzhou had no choice but to lose.
… …
… …
The Maple Forest Pavilion was very quiet.
The Orthodox Academy was very quiet.
The wind blew over the lake and the maple forest, passing through the ruined Maple Forest Pavilion. It was cut to pieces by the swords in the sky and then gathered back together, giving off very complicated sounds.
Some sounds were like sobs, some were like resentful howls.
"I will not lose to you."
Shang Xingzhou said to Chen Changsheng, "I taught you."
This was his principle, his reason.
I will not lose to you. These words were actually saying that he could not lose to you.
Shang Xingzhou took a step forward and said a single word.
This word sounded very simple, just a single syllable.
But when this word was heard, it revealed its true face, the incomparably complex undulations of its tone.
In this extremely short period of time, it was as if there was an endless amount of information.
This was not the language of humans, but the remnants of an ancient civilization, an intelligent world as magnificent and beautiful as the sea of stars.
His blue Daoist robe danced in the wind, the cry of a dragon rising with it, resounding through the Orthodox Academy.
Shang Xingzhou's eyes turned pale, making him seem like a ghost or a god.
An unimaginably ancient Qi swept toward Chen Changsheng and the rain of swords in the sky.
Chen Changsheng stared into Shang Xingzhou's eyes and suddenly said a single word.
This word was also a single syllable, but it was similarly strange and complex, simply incomprehensible and extremely remote.
The faint cry of a dragon came from the sky once more shrouded in clouds, brimming with delight and gratification.
Countless swords descended according to Chen Changsheng's will.
Awe-Inspiring sword intents and the cries of swords could be heard everywhere. Countless straight and deep sword slashes appeared in the sky.
There was a light clap.
The wind stopped.
The world became incomparably quiet once more.
The rain of swords was about to fall, suspended in the sky.
Shang Xingzhou stood in front of Chen Changsheng, his entire body covered in blood.
His right hand clutched Chen Changsheng's throat.
With just the slightest bit of force, Chen Changsheng would die.
At this moment, Wang Zhice's voice rang out.
"You've lost."
… …
… …
(This illness has really been exhausting. Today, I wrote a chapter in a fit of craziness. Tomorrow, I might say I won't write it anymore. It's alright. After all, it's the most important chapters. I don't dare to be negligent. But I really don't have the energy to think about chapter names. But this is fine. It's simple and direct enough. (To be continued …)
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