Wang Yu on Swordsmanship

"From the look on your face, you don't seem quite convinced," Li Yunxiu said with a smile. The old woodcutter's voice shifted. Though still weathered, it took on an eerie chill. "I beg the lady scholar to enlighten me. Let this old man die knowing the truth. Where exactly did I slip up?" "You made use of the real owner's courtyard, used that child to assist you, and set us at ease with unpoisoned cured meat porridge and flatbread. You even anticipated that we would give snacks to the boy, giving him a natural excuse to bring out the sweetened water." Li Yunxiu analyzed it calmly. "You did all of this very naturally, but unfortunately, there were still subtle details left unaddressed." "What subtle details?" the old woodcutter asked. "First, the dog." Li Yunxiu raised an index finger. "No matter how old or well-behaved a dog is, it will come out to see unfamiliar visitors. Yet not only did it fail to appear, it hadn't even finished its evening meal." "As someone who lived with the dog every day, you should have known how much it ate in a sitting. Why would there be half a bowl extra?" Li Yunxiu said. "Either it was sick and couldn't eat, or it died halfway through its meal." "Second, the child." Li Yunxiu continued, "I never expected you would bring a child along as cover. Regrettably, he is a boy. While a wooden horse and a rattle drum might pass, wooden combs and rag dolls are favored mostly by little girls." Li Yunxiu said faintly, "Either your child has a delicate nature that leans feminine, or the original owner had a granddaughter who was already killed by your hand." "Third, the firewood." Li Yunxiu raised a third finger. "What you said about the imperial edict and the price of firewood in the market towns was accurate enough, but you didn't know that the original owner never went to Lujia Market to sell his wood." The old woodcutter couldn't help asking, "Why?" "If he went to Lujia Market to sell his wood, his woodshed wouldn't have had so much firewood piled up inside." Li Yunxiu pointed toward the shed. "The original owner was frail with age and had a granddaughter to look after, so he always accumulated wood to sell to passing firewood merchants. For you to tell me that—either you were brushing me off with a casual excuse, or you had already killed the original owner and were using his cottage as a front to ambush us." Li Yunxiu looked at the old woodcutter. "One flaw could be chance. Two might be an accident. But three could never be a coincidence—especially not when the child brought out sweetened water capable of masking the poison's cloying sweetness." Three slender, jade-white fingers. To Wang Yu, they looked exquisite and lovely, but to the old woodcutter, they seemed like the fangs of a demon. The old woodcutter's cheek twitched, and he finally let out a sigh. "Truly worthy of the famed lady scholar known across the realm. I deserve death. I only beg the lady scholar to spare my young grandson. I swear he will quit the jianghu and never dare offend anyone again." Li Yunxiu said impassively, "Since he truly is your grandson, you should never have brought him into the jianghu in the first place." As her words fell, Li Yunxiu forced a bowl of sweetened water down the old woodcutter's throat, then waved to Zi Ling. Taking the cue, Zi Ling picked up the last bowl of sweetened water and poured it down the child's throat. "Li Yunxiu! You won't die a peaceful death!" the old woodcutter rasped in a low roar. Li Yunxiu did not reply. She simply tapped his muting acupoint with a flick of her hand, watching impassively as the faces of grandfather and grandson turned a bruised blue-black, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths until all breath left them. Wang Yu, of course, did not play the sanctimonious saint. He was already beginning to adjust to this world, beginning to grow accustomed to death. Zi Ling couldn't resist asking, "The original owners of this cottage..." Li Yunxiu sighed. "He didn't have much time to prepare. Search nearby. Hopefully..." "No need to search. They're in the cellar behind the main house," a voice suddenly cut in. "And no need to hope, either. That grandfather and granddaughter are already dead." Li Yunxiu and Wang Yu turned sharply and saw a man clad in black standing beneath a tree beside the main house. Wang Yu was thoroughly speechless. "One after another. And who might you be?" "The man who is going to kill you," the black-clad man replied bluntly. "I didn't dare compete with the Twin Swords of Nanhai, and when I saw Old Man Yan intervene, I was ready to give up. Who would have thought Old Man Su could poison him to death?" "Without Old Man Yan, with only a lady scholar left, I'm fairly confident." The black-clad man chuckled darkly. Li Yunxiu's expression finally changed. The black-clad man had appeared without making a sound, showing his martial arts were far from weak. With Elder Yan dead and Song Yong and the other guards possessing mediocre skills, she was the only one who could stand against him. The man looked Li Yunxiu up and down, his eyes filled with appreciation—though the lecherous malice lurking beneath could not escape Li Yunxiu. Li Yunxiu trembled slightly and couldn't help taking a small step back, yet she remained firmly in front of Wang Yu. "I do not know how much the bounty on my husband is, but we are willing to pay you double—no, triple—if you would graciously let us go." "Without Old Man Yan, the lady scholar can't keep her composure anymore?" The black-clad man sneered cold laughter as he slowly approached, drawing the longsword at his waist behind his back. "I'm not short on money. But if the lady scholar is willing to spend a spring night of passion with me, I wouldn't mind sparing your useless husband." "Isn't that right, Prince of Zhenxi—arrogant and swaggering while your father lived, but retreating into silence the moment he died?" The man looked at Wang Yu, mocking, "Where did all that bluster you had in the capital go?" "My husband..." Before Li Yunxiu could finish, Wang Yu brushed her aside. "To think that a stray dog who wasn't even qualified to pour wine for my gatekeeper dares bark before me." Without anyone noticing when, a slender branch of firewood had appeared in Wang Yu's hand, and he was idly turning it over between his fingers. He didn't know whether Li Yunxiu was truly panicked or deliberately feigning weakness, but now that the black-clad man had singled him out, breaking character by cowering behind her was out of the question. If his persona crumbled, both the assassin before him and the imperial guards at the entrance would become suspicious, potentially exposing him. *I still have to go live out my life in luxury as the Prince of Zhenxi!* Besides, having witnessed the martial arts of Elder Yan and the Twin Swords of Nanhai, and possessing a sliver of internal strength himself, Wang Yu had some expectations and had made a few preparations. Gripping the stick of firewood in his right hand, his left hand hanging naturally and half-concealed within his sleeve, Wang Yu strolled forward and asked, "You use a sword?" Staring at the stick of firewood in Wang Yu's hand, the black-clad man felt both exasperated and amused. "You aren't planning to treat that piece of firewood as a sword, are you?" "The very fact that you ask shows you know nothing of swordsmanship." Wang Yu brought the stick horizontally across his chest, looking completely composed. "Relying on the sharpness of a blade and depending on its edge is merely the most rudimentary use of a sword." The black-clad man's gaze tightened. The boy's father was a Xiantian Grandmaster. Though the young man's reputation as a profligate had echoed across the capital and his martial arts were said to be mediocre, he had rarely fought, so no one truly knew the depths of his skill. While his performance on the road suggested he was inferior even to Li Yunxiu, his calm, unhurried demeanor now gave the man pause. Furthermore, his father was a Xiantian Grandmaster, who inevitably held unique insights into the martial path. If Wang Yu wanted to talk, the man didn't mind listening—it offered an opportunity to test the waters. "And what other uses are there for a sword?" the black-clad man asked. "Bending and straightening at will, adapting to yield and extend," Wang Yu said calmly. "One can start with the soft sword. Only when one reaches the realm where the sword is the hand and the hand is the sword can this stage be considered complete, allowing one to move on to the next." The man tightened his grip on his sword. He had yet to reach such a level. Moreover... "There is a next stage?" "A heavy sword has no edge; great skill requires no craft." Wang Yu idly swished the firewood stick in his hand. "As the saying goes, softness cannot be maintained forever, and rigidity cannot endure for long. Therefore, after mastering the soft sword, one must train with the heavy sword. Once the heavy sword can be wielded as an extension of one's own arm, that stage is achieved, granting a glimpse into the supreme realm of the sword." The black-clad man's expression grew exceedingly solemn. To hear Wang Yu express such profound principles in plain, simple words convinced him all the more that this was indeed the heritage of a Xiantian Grandmaster. Fascinated, he couldn't help asking, "What is the supreme realm of the sword?" "Naturally, it is where grass, wood, bamboo, and stone can all serve as swords." Wang Yu raised the stick of firewood. "Only when a mere piece of wood can display both the supple agility of a soft sword and the artless might of a heavy sword can one truly claim: my sword is achieved." The black-clad man stared at the firewood stick, a fleeting yearning in his eyes before he snapped back to reality, sneering mockingly, "Don't tell me you're claiming you've already reached the realm where grass, wood, bamboo, and stone can all serve as swords?" "Of course not," Wang Yu chuckled with easy grace. "I'm holding this firewood just to put on a show." Wang Yu was smiling, but the black-clad man was not. He couldn't tell whether Wang Yu was bluffing or playing the game of making the real seem false and the false seem real. Even if Wang Yu hadn't reached the realm where grass and wood could be swords, so long as he had mastered bending and extending at will, the assassin would be no match for him. As for sword intent or being a Xiantian expert, he didn't even entertain the thought. If Wang Yu were a Xiantian expert, why bother wasting words? A single thrust of that firewood would have killed him on the spot. "Weren't you going to kill me and sleep with my wife?" Wang Yu twirled the stick in his fingers. "Come on, try stabbing me. Who knows, maybe you'll kill me in a single thrust." The black-clad man had already halted. His palm clutching the sword was slick with sweat; for a moment, he did not know whether to advance or retreat. He suddenly regretted revealing himself with such arrogant confidence. Wouldn't it have been better to hide in the shadows and launch a sneak attack? Yet had he ambushed them from hiding, he would never have heard such brilliant sword theory. Li Yunxiu also looked at Wang Yu in surprise. Concealing several golden needles in her grip, she shifted slightly by two steps, exposing half her body so she could strike at any moment, all while maintaining her fragile, pitiable expression. "If you won't come, I'm heading over." Wang Yu smiled faintly and stepped toward the black-clad man. The black-clad man's eyes wavered. He glanced at Li Yunxiu, who seemed hesitant to step forward, and felt a sudden spark of resolve. Raising his sword, he gathered his inner energy at the tip and flicked it toward the stick of firewood in Wang Yu's hand. *Crack!* The longsword met the stick. To the black-clad man's utter astonishment, there was not a trace of inner energy infused in the wood. Under the impact of his energy-laden blade, it shattered on contact, bursting into dust and splinters. The man froze in disbelief. He had imagined every possibility—he had even considered that Wang Yu might truly be formidable enough to force him to drop his blade and flee. The one thing he had never imagined was that Wang Yu was so weak he barely had any inner energy at all. *Even if you are weak, as the son of a Xiantian Grandmaster, how could you possibly be this weak? Didn't you severely injure Commissioner Liu of the Capital Guard?* The black-clad man's strike nearly overextended as his momentum hit empty air. Startled, he looked up at Wang Yu—only to see Wang Yu fling his left hand, which had been hanging naturally at his side all along. A gale stirred by condensed inner energy whipped up a cloud of ash and dust, blowing it straight toward his face. The two were far too close, and the black-clad man had focused nearly all his attention on the stick of firewood. Caught completely off guard, he had no time to react as the blinding cloud struck him full in the face, rushing straight into his eyes.