Comprehending Myriad Techniques as Woodcutter

However, some frowned. Elder Song was known for his chivalry, a true ladies’ man.

’Faced with a woman he had wronged in the past, could he still bring himself to use his full strength?’

On the stage, the two Grandmasters exchanged a few awkward words before Luo Shuang shook her head:

"Our prime has passed in the blink of an eye. Explanations are meaningless now. Song Qingping, draw your sword."

Song Qingping sighed wistfully:

"Senior Sister Luo, I truly don’t want to fight you."

"Enough talk. Face my blade!"

Luo Shuang drew her sword and struck without warning.

The sky suddenly darkened.

The spectators’ vision blurred as they looked up.

’How has broad daylight turned to night? When did the sun become a full moon?’

Then, someone suddenly realized—it wasn’t that the sky had changed. It was the light from Luo Shuang’s sword, so pearlescent and dazzling that it was like a silver moon crashing to the earth. Everything above and below went dark; only her blade remained.

This one sword strike left the audience deeply shaken. They had thought yesterday’s two chief disciples were close to the Grandmaster realm and expected today’s battle to be of a similar caliber. But the moment Luo Shuang made her move, they understood: a Grandmaster’s swordsmanship was on another level entirely, as brilliant as the full moon.

’It was impossible to discern the power of this swordsmanship, but the moon it created was so exquisitely beautiful that if it were descending upon them, they would have no will to resist.’

A sigh shattered the illusory scene.

A clear, bright stream of light rose from the center of the arena to meet the moon. It flew toward the moon, weaving and dancing around it, lingering and intimate, as gentle as water. It looked less like a sword duel and more like a dance.

While the audience was awestruck by the two Grandmasters’ magnificent and unfathomably powerful swordsmanship, they also wore inexplicably strange expressions.

Perhaps it was because their own cultivation was too low, but as the Grandmasters’ sword lights intertwined, they couldn’t sense a hint of killing intent. Their figures flickered, advancing and retreating. It looked less like a fight and more like lovers sparring, guiding each other’s moves—or even flirting.

Luo Shuang’s attacks still carried the force of someone determined to win, her sword light spilling like moonlight to cover a vast area. Song Qingping’s moves, however, were exceedingly restrained and gentle. He floated around the edges of her attacks, seemingly afraid to make even the slightest contact.

Xie Yuan watched with a strange expression on his face:

"Is Song Qingping throwing the match?"

After they had been locked in this tender dance for some time, a fierce look flashed in Luo Shuang’s eyes. She suddenly channeled the entire silver moon into her blade. The sword light erupted, eclipsing the sun itself as she thrust at Song Qingping.

Song Qingping’s expression changed, and he cried out in anguish:

"Senior Sister Luo, do you really want to take my life?"

A flicker of anger rose in his heart. He suddenly unleashed a heaven-shaking strike, a torrent of clear water surging upward to blast a path through Luo Shuang’s sun-eclipsing sword light!

Both were thrown back by the impact. Song Qingping staggered back a step, while Luo Shuang’s face paled, and a trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth.

She raised her sword to press the attack, but Song Qingping was transfixed. The sight of her deathly pale face against the fresh blood on her lips was jarring, yet tragically beautiful. His heart suddenly softened. With a long sigh, he threw his sword down with a CLANG, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes.

"So be it, Senior Sister Luo. This is my debt to you! If you want my life, then take it!"

The long sword streaked through the air and stopped, hovering at Song Qingping’s throat.

Luo Shuang stared at him and asked:

"Why didn’t you dodge?"

"I will never dodge you, Senior Sister Luo."

"Blech..."

Down in the audience, Xie Yuan broke out in goosebumps. ’This old guy is way too greasy, isn’t he?’

Upon hearing his words, however, Luo Shuang’s body trembled violently. Her long sword shook, nearly slicing open Song Qingping’s throat. The close call terrified him. Despite his best efforts to maintain a deeply affectionate expression, he stealthily flinched backward and swallowed hard.

Luo Shuang forcefully composed herself and said coldly:

"You’ve lost."

With those words, she withdrew her long sword, turned, and flew off, leaving the main peak entirely.

"Senior Sister Luo, Senior Sister Luo!"

Watching Luo Shuang leave, Song Qingping hurriedly gave chase, completely ignoring everyone else.

Everyone stared at each other, nonplussed. ’So, this match... it counts as a win for the Cloud Mountain Sword Sect... right?’

So, after all that talk about External Training, the Cloud Mountain Sword Sect won its first match... like this.

Wei Dong’s already dark face was now as black as thunder. He couldn’t help but sneer:

"A fine strategy, Sect Leader Li."

Li Xingtuo chuckled.

"Nonsense. Senior Sister Luo volunteered for the match. It’s only natural for old friends to catch up. How can you call that a strategy?"

In terms of strength, Luo Shuang wasn’t the strongest among the Cloud Mountain Sword Sect’s elders, but she was probably the only one who could defeat Song Qingping.

Wei Dong’s face darkened once more as he glanced at the Profound Weapon—a Treasure Sword—that had been carelessly tossed aside on the stage. He pressed a hand to his forehead and ordered a disciple beside him:

"Go pick up the sword! Pick up the sword! Put that disgrace’s sword away for him!"

The guests on Xie Yuan and Situ Qin’s side were also murmuring amongst themselves.

Xie Yuan, for his part, found the corny pickup lines nauseating. ’But with a face like Song Qingping’s, he could probably ask a girl to ’take a shit with him sometime’ and she’d still go wild...’

’Maybe handsome guys don’t even know how to woo women. It’s only the ugly ones who spend all their time studying pickup lines... Ahem, not that he was talking about anyone in particular.’

Situ Qin didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she loved a good spectacle. She was having the time of her life, watching the show while munching on snacks and melon seeds.

Aunt Hong sighed with feeling beside them:

"That one’s a master."

Li Tai nodded.

"Indeed. Luo Shuang’s swordsmanship isn’t bad, but Song Qingping truly lives up to his reputation as a Flying Dragon List Master ranked just three places below me. He’s clearly a cut above."

Aunt Hong was silent for a long moment before saying:

"You don’t have to talk like that... And that’s not the master I was referring to."

Li Tai thought for a moment. Remembering Aunt Hong’s area of expertise, it dawned on him.

"Song Qingping is indeed a famous pretty boy. His skills in that area could probably rank him first on the Celestial Dragon List, far surpassing his Martial Dao."

As a military man, especially after their clash yesterday, he naturally couldn’t stand the sight of Song Qingping.

"Song Qingping’s game is nothing special," Aunt Hong said, to everyone’s surprise. "I was talking about Luo Shuang."

Her eyes gleamed, as if she had just encountered a true master.

"She won the match and reaped all the rewards. Then, she puts on a show of being hurt, making everyone think Song Qingping wronged her terribly and making them feel indignant on her behalf. Even Song Qingping himself is so wracked with guilt that he chases after her... This time, he’ll be staying on her Yao Yue Peak for a month at least. Heh. Being played like a fiddle and he doesn’t even know it.

"It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a skilled ’white lotus.’ She’s no spring chicken, but she’s still got a full playbook of tricks. Now *that’s* skill. Then you look at certain little girls who have a famous master but can’t seem to learn anything. All they know how to do is eat, letting themselves get completely wrapped around someone’s finger. *Sigh*. Such a lost cause..."

Situ Qin, who had been happily stuffing her face, suddenly froze upon hearing Aunt Hong’s grief-stricken words. She tilted her head, her cheeks puffed out with pastries.

’Why do I feel like I just got caught in the crossfire?’