Li Miao paid no mind to what Zuo Lishan was thinking and spoke on his own accord, "Before I came to Qi-Lu, I learned about Master Zuo's life story."
"Master Zuo's father was an elder of the Mount Tai Sect. From a young age, his foundation was laid, and he never lacked resources for martial arts training."
"At twelve, he entered the Mount Tai Sect, becoming the last disciple of the previous Master."
"By fifteen, he had already reached a third-rate level, earning the title of 'Young Master' within the sect."
"At twenty-five, having mastered martial arts, he ventured out into the jianghu. He first went to Lingnan, where he, with a single sword, challenged the then infamous 'Blood Robe Building'. Then he went to Mobei and killed 'Great Asura' Mengnan."
"That same year, he returned to the Mount Tai Sect to participate in the Five Mountains Alliance Meeting, defeating the experts from the Mount Hua Sect, Hengshan Sect, Songshan Sect, and Hengshan Sect with his sword, earning him the title of 'Zhenyue Sword'."
"Now, nearing forty, he is a peerless master, a rare opponent in the jianghu."
Li Miao smiled and continued, "At the level of peerless masters, some are actually undeserving of the title, relying on the profound internal energy accumulated over years to overwhelm others, with little to say about their actual moves."
"But Master Zuo is different. You are a genuine, and even have hope of further advancement, peerless master."
"Your entire life is like something written in a storybook. That's why you think you are the one favored by destiny, and why you don't really care about others."
"You believe that even if I set a trap for you, I wouldn't be able to keep you."
"So you sit here at your leisure, wanting to see what I'm truly getting at."
Zuo Lishan did not deny it.
"That's why I said, you think too much."
Li Miao raised his palm, slowly tracing it through the air, and struck Zuo Lishan's chest with an invisible force.
Bang!!!
With a muffled thud, Zuo Lishan's body abruptly retreated, his chair scraping deep grooves into the floor!
Just as he was about to hit the wall, Zuo Lishan suddenly exerted force to stand up, bringing the long sword by his feet to plunge into the ground, stopping his momentum. The chair beneath him crashed against the wall, shattering into a pile of wooden pieces.
His clothes over his chest were torn, leaving a palm print.
Zuo Lishan suddenly looked up at Li Miao.
"There's no trick, no trap, and my words have no hidden meaning."
"It's simply that I, alone, am enough to lure you down and kill you."
"Literally."
Only then did Li Miao pick up the cup of wine Zuo Lishan had poured for him and drank it in one gulp.
Zuo Lishan's brows were tightly furrowed.
Li Miao's palm strike just now was very slow; he saw it clearly, but he didn't dodge.
He was not yet forty, and his internal cultivation was not outstanding among peerless masters, but he did have a foundation. That palm strike's force was loose, and there was no surge of internal energy, almost like a health-preserving trick for an old man.
But that palm strike had directly disrupted his stance!
Force comes from the ground; the first thing a martial artist learns is the horse stance. Stabilizing one's posture, advancing and retreating freely, all depend on the feet.
In a duel between masters, if one's stance is broken, it almost certainly means the difference between life and death.
Not to mention, Li Miao's palm strike came from a distance. Zuo Lishan didn't even have a concept of how profound the internal energy would need to be to achieve that.
Fei Junxuan stood by, stunned and unable to move.
Mei Qinghe, however, had long known this would be the outcome and showed no surprise.
Zuo Lishan was silent for a long while before speaking, "Your Excellency... who exactly are you?"
"As far as I know, the Jinyiwei's Li Qianhu is only thirty-five this year; he couldn't possibly possess such formidable internal energy as Your Excellency."
Li Miao spoke again, "I told you, you think too much."
"You think you are the favored son of heaven, you think you are the one who sets the goals for others to chase."
"You always win, winning to the point of arrogance, winning to the point of lawlessness, winning to the point of believing you can treat others as dirt, believing rules are limitations set for ordinary people, and not rules you must obey."
"That's why you dared to do that thing you shouldn't have done, drawing me here."
"You haven't experienced that kind of thorough, utterly devastating defeat, the kind of defeat that makes you kneel on the ground and unable to lift your head."
"Today, I am here to teach you that lesson."
Li Miao stood up and waved to Zuo Lishan, "Come."
Zuo Lishan said no more, drawing his sword and charging forward.
Buzz—!!
With a sword hum, the long sword thrust directly at Li Miao's face!
So-called swordsmanship is nothing more than hooking, hanging, pointing, lifting, thrusting, sweeping, and chopping.
It's just that in various schools of swordsmanship, the angle of the thrust, the way force is channeled, the flow of internal energy, and the artistic conception at the time of the thrust differ, so a simple direct thrust is completely different in each school's swordsmanship.
Zuo Lishan's direct thrust was precisely "Dai Zong He Ru He" from Mount Tai Swordplay.
Though it was a direct thrust, like Mei Qinghe's "Sword Roar of Cold River" from Hua Mountain Swordplay that day, they were not to be compared.
This sword strike was heavy, grand, like the collapse of the heavens.
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It directly "smashed" towards Li Miao!
Mei Qinghe closed her eyes; she already knew the outcome.
As a fellow swordsman, she couldn't bear to watch.
Snap—
A crisp snapping sound.
Whoosh—Thump!
The sound of wind, then the sound of something embedding itself into wood.
Mei Qinghe opened her eyes.
Only half of the long sword remained in Zuo Lishan's hand.
The broken half was stuck in the table in front of Li Miao.
It was exactly like the day Mei Qinghe met Li Miao.
Zuo Lishan retreated a few steps, finally unable to maintain his expression, looking at the broken sword in his hand, then raising his head to look at Li Miao.
"You—" He couldn't even finish his sentence.
Li Miao once again raised his hand and waved to Zuo Lishan, "Come, don't you have another sword under your command? You can make one more move."
"After one move, I will kill you."
Zuo Lishan threw his sword to the ground, turned, drew the long sword from Fei Junxuan's waist, and faced Li Miao again.
Sweat streamed down his face.
Li Miao merely stood there casually, his feet without any stance, his hands without any force, his whole body relaxed and full of openings.
Yet, he couldn't make a move.
Just now, his sword had almost reached Li Miao's chest when Li Miao extended his hand to directly grasp it with his bare hand.
He couldn't understand Li Miao's martial arts, only thinking that he had some sort of external hard qigong on his hand and intended to disarm him bare-handed, so he changed his move to slash at Li Miao's wrist, intending to cripple Li Miao's hand.
Who would have thought that a sword strike to Li Miao's wrist would completely dissipate its force, like a clay ox entering the sea!
Only then did Li Miao grab the sword blade and casually snap it.
With a crisp sound, he broke the sharp sword he had used for over twenty years into two pieces, casually chopping one into the table.
What kind of martial arts was this! What realm! What kind of person!
He couldn't even comprehend it!
Could it be that there really are demons and immortals in this world!
Zuo Lishan stopped thinking, because if he continued, he feared that his next sword strike would lose even its sharp, unyielding artistic conception.
He held his breath and focused, no longer hesitating. He lunged forward, still with the move "Dai Zong He Ru He"!
I don't believe it! I don't believe it! I don't believe it!
This sword strike drained his essence and blood, consumed all his internal energy, and exerted all his strength.
Zuo Lishan used all his might, just for this deng feng sword strike!
Thrusting directly at Li Miao!
