“Why is a useless cultivation technique like the Uncontending and Unfailing Technique stored in this True Inheritance Secret Vault?” Qin Heng’s sword-like brows furrowed, and his knuckles rapped heavily on the profound iron table.
The candlelight in the hall flickered erratically, casting his face in a frosty light.
This cultivation technique, which required one to vow not to shed blood for ten years and never to kill in one’s lifetime, was practically a joke in the dog-eat-dog world of cultivation.
In a corner, several young Disciples’ faces turned red, but they dared not laugh out loud.
Qi Yuancheng twirled his jade thumb ring and stepped forward: “Senior Brother Qin, please be careful with your words. The True Inheritance Cave has always been all-encompassing. Besides…”
He deliberately drew out the end of his sentence, “This is an original manuscript personally transcribed by our Ancestors.”
Yuan Feng True Lord rubbed the tip of his nose and retreated half a step, his molars aching from clenching. Three months ago, when he personally handed the Mystic Realm jade token to Qing Feng, he never expected this kid to choose the hot potato that had been guarding the cave for eight hundred years. If he had known, he would have let that spiritual Black Dog take the spot instead.
“Reopen the True Inheritance Cave,” Qin Heng slammed his palm on the table, making the teacup jump, “Qing Feng earned three spots in the Bi An Squad for the Sect, and even this much compensation…”
“Rules are rules,” Yuan Feng True Lord suddenly straightened his back, a green light flashing from the jade slip in his sleeve, “For a thousand years, those who cultivated the Gluttonous Heaven Swallowing Technique and died violently, or those who cultivated the Blood River Great Law and suffered qi deviation, which of them didn’t bear their own karma?”
Peak Lord Jingyang interjected at the opportune moment: “I heard that Junior Nephew Xu comprehended the cultivation technique in three days. With such comprehension, why would he need to change techniques?”
A rustle of agreement immediately arose, and several elders exchanged knowing glances.
Qing Feng stood with his head bowed in the shadow of a hall pillar, his fingertips pale under his wide sleeves.
Suddenly, the clear scent of herbs wafted to his nose. Qin Yue stood beside him imperceptibly, her skirt still carrying the biting frost from the Sword Mound.
When the seven-colored auspicious clouds once again enveloped Transmission Valley, everyone flocked to the newly promoted Heaven’s Chosen.
No one noticed Qing Feng squatting by the stream, washing his sword. The water reflected a fleeting smile on his lips. Just now, when Qin Yue brushed past him, she had clearly used sword qi to etch the four small characters “3:30 pm” (7:45 PM) into his palm.
As night fell, two figures quietly snuck into the top floor of the Scripture Pavilion.
Moonlight pierced through centuries-old cobwebs, illuminating a dusty annotation on the title page of the Purple Rock Selfless Sword Art: “To cultivate this path, one must first attain uncontentiousness.”
The handwriting was identical to the cinnabar seal on the last page of the Uncontending and Unfailing Technique.
Amidst the swaying bamboo shadows, Dao Lord Zisu’s frosty Daoist robe brushed against the moss on the thatched eaves as she arrived at this old hut, which had not been repaired for many years.
“It’s not that I’m lost, but rather worried about Senior Sister’s safety,” Qing Feng lightly wiped his sword hilt. “The Selfless Sword Dao, after all, must cross the threshold of life and death.”
Cold iron reflected the moonlight, and sword intent filled the room. The so-called selflessness was, in fact, a deadly technique of feeding one’s life to the sword.
Although the seven pulse and forty-nine peaks each had their own inheritances—Zhijian Peak’s man-sword unity, Heaven Sword Peak’s qi devouring mountains and rivers, Tai’a Peak’s fleeting thousand lights, Han Ming Peak’s frost and snow condensed into blades—
Bugong Peak’s heavy sword without edge, Ziyan Peak’s scorching sun burning the heavens, and Dragon Yang Peak’s transformation into dragons, all guarded the Selfless Sword Canon that originated from the same source.
This was the foundation upon which the Beast Taming Sect was established. All who entered the Sect learned its form, but only direct Disciples could comprehend its spirit.
When Qin Yue comprehended the profound mysteries of the Sword Canon a month ago, sword qi surged for three days and nights on the Nine Heavens Cloud Platform, attracting elders from various peaks to observe the ceremony.
“Cultivating immortality and seeking the Dao inherently means to be born from death,” Zisu gently shook her wide sleeve, and cloud patterns spontaneously appeared on the teacup on the table.
“Then Shibo’s words the other day, ‘absolutely no celestial phenomena,’ were you perhaps deceiving me?” Qing Feng suddenly tapped the stone table with his sword finger, and the clear sound of a jade chime echoed through the bamboo sea.
“Compared to the grandeur of Heaven Sword Peak Lord’s myriad swords paying homage back then, there really isn’t much to see,” the Dao Lord lowered her gaze and sipped her tea, her jade-like face reflecting the green tea. “If I hadn’t deliberately investigated, even I might not have noticed the fluctuations in Ziyan’s sword qi.”
Qing Feng leaned against the pillar with his arms crossed, a suspicious light flickering in his amber eyes. The copper bell on the eaves tinkled, startling several green-eyed mountain sparrows.
“Furthermore,” Zisu suddenly brushed away a fallen petal from her robe, “given your usual carefree and unconstrained temperament, I truly did not expect you to inherit the true essence of Selflessness. As for the Purple Rock Secret Canon…” Her fingertip condensed half a sword light before it suddenly dissipated, “It is not something I can glimpse.”
Qing Feng looked at the fragmented golden sunlight filtering through the bamboo tips and finally shook his head with a light laugh. After all, in front of a Sword Dao Venerable, even a thousand doubts could only turn into smoke.
“However, this Uncontending and Unfailing Technique,” Zisu suddenly furrowed her brows, “although it suits your lazy nature, it is ultimately a conservative method from ancient times. Now that the Three Realms are in turmoil, if you indulge in this path…”
She used her fingers as a sword to write in the air, the seal script flowing like stars, “It’s better to meticulously study the Firmament Heaven Sword; you should be able to move unhindered within the Foundation Establishment stage.”
“Shibo, your words are mistaken,” Qing Feng suddenly used his fingers to catch a falling bamboo leaf. “Look…” Spiritual energy flowed within the leaf veins, actually condensing into a Tai Chi symbol. “Uncontending does not mean unable to contend; only by maintaining stillness can one control movement.”
In terms of cultivation talent, he was a rare anomaly in a thousand years.
While ordinary cultivators performed their daily circulations, he would induce spiritual energy tides just by napping among the pines. The sword intent that Qin Yue needed a hundred days to refine, he comprehended by observing the changing sea of clouds.
Not to mention the ancient inheritance he gained in his dreams, which made his cultivation speed comparable to a dragon swallowing clouds. Forty years of arduous cultivation for an ordinary person was less than a single game of chess for him.
And this Uncontending and Unfailing Technique seemed tailor-made for him. After all, in this world, was there any cultivation method more aligned with the concept of “non-action” than sleeping by a stream and gargling with stones?
“How can sparring among fellow Disciples count?”
“How about doubling the difficulty?”
Qing Feng secretly calculated that at this rate, his time for comprehending sword intent would be greatly reduced.
“If there is no desire to win, how can one prove the Dao of slaughter?” Dao Lord Zisu lightly flicked her whisk, and the jade steps glowed with spiritual light.
“May I ask, Shibo, what is ‘contention’?” The white-robed Qing Feng’s fingertips condensed a three-inch sword qi.
“Contention is changing destiny, contention is slaying evil, and contention is also seizing opportunities,” the Dao Lord formed hand seals, and nine layers of restrictions opened in response.
“Destiny is originally a self-imposed shackles by mortals. Mortals view birth, old age, sickness, and death as the celestial dao, but cultivators call longevity and eternal life ‘defying heaven and changing destiny.’ However, the circulation of spiritual energy has its own laws; isn’t breathing and cultivating also conforming to nature?”
A water mirror floated in Qing Feng’s palm, reflecting the image of yin and yang fish.
Dao Lord Zisu’s brows slightly twitched: “Sophistry.”
“Water flowing downhill is normal. If it’s used for irrigation with a bamboo tube, does that count as defying the celestial dao? The distinction between conformity and defiance is merely a difference in the application of power,” Qing Feng’s sleeves fluttered, and the water mirror transformed into rain and dew, nourishing the spiritual herbs before the steps.
“What a fine uncontending contention,” the Dao Lord laughed in exasperation, “Such wild words are even more arrogant than ‘being at peace with the world.’ If the old Daoists of Qingxu Temple were to hear this…”
“True cultivators of the Great Dao would not care about false names,” Qing Feng lightly traced with his sword finger, and the rain and dew condensed into an ice crystal sword embryo, “If we speak of contention, am I not at this moment contending with Shibo in a discussion of the Dao?”
The Dao Lord suddenly held her whisk suspended in mid-air: “Since you know of contention, why do you always avoid Sect competitions?”
“Shibo, please understand, my admiration for you is like a river, flowing endlessly,” Qing Feng suddenly bowed respectfully, but his ice sword quietly pressed against the last restriction.
“Gluttonous tongue,” Dao Lord Zisu waved her sleeve, shattering the ice sword, but a smile flickered in her eyes, “If these crooked theories were to reach the Confucianists…”