Flower Stealing Master

Chapter 490: Sword Immortal vs Sword Demon

Guo Fu, impressed by Ah Qing’s previous performance, instinctively replied, “Ah Qing could probably come up with hundreds of ways.”

Huang Rong sighed, “Fu’er, you’re not advanced enough to understand that being full of openings actually means having no openings at all.”

Though Huang Rong’s martial arts were not top-tier, it was because of her playful nature that she never focused on training. Her talent and insight were exceptional, having been surrounded by top martial artists and learning from the best techniques like the Dog Beating Staff and the Nine Yin Scripture. Thus, she could somewhat grasp Song Qingshu’s profound move.

When an opponent has many openings, they hesitate due to too many choices, and in a high-level fight, hesitation can determine victory.

So Ah Qing moved several times but didn’t strike.

This was Huang Rong’s understanding, limited by her skill level, and different from the actual situation.

To Ah Qing, Song Qingshu’s casual sword move was naturally aligned with the Dao, appearing full of openings but actually full of hidden dangers and follow-up moves, not openings at all.

Nevertheless, Ah Qing remained Ah Qing. Despite her doubts, she thrust her bamboo staff at Song Qingshu.

Song Qingshu smiled, his wooden sword aiming at Ah Qing’s left shoulder in a move that was both defensive and offensive, a brilliant technique.

“Seems pretty good,” Guo Fu, though not highly skilled, could see the finesse in the move.

“Their swordsmanship is among the top three in the world. Fu’er, Da Wa, Xiao Wa, watch carefully. You’ll benefit greatly.”

“Yes, Mother (Master)!” 

Seeing Huang Rong’s serious tone, Guo Fu didn’t dare to argue and watched intently. Da Wa and Xiao Wa also focused as per Huang Rong’s instructions.

Ah Qing twisted her waist, raising her bamboo staff slightly, causing Song Qingshu’s sword to miss and aimed at his waist from another angle.

“This Ah Qing’s swordsmanship is truly impressive, effortlessly countering Brother Song’s move,” Ah Jiu murmured, worried for Song Qingshu.

“Don’t worry. Since Qingshu is confident, he will win,” Zhou Zhiruo said with a hint of excitement.

The women had discussed how Song Qingshu could win many times but concluded his chances were slim. Yet, Song Qingshu always assured them confidently, piquing their curiosity. Whenever asked about his strategy, he would smile and refuse to reveal anything.

Seeing Ah Qing’s move, Song Qingshu praised silently and quickly redirected his wooden sword to Ah Qing’s right shoulder, maintaining a balance of offense and defense.

“Ah?” Ah Qing exclaimed, realizing the incoming sword was flawless. Continuing her thrust might result in her arm being twisted off, forcing her to block with her bamboo staff and counterattack from another angle, creating an artistic move that amazed the audience.

Song Qingshu laughed, “An excellent move.” He parried and returned the attack.

The two exchanged over twenty moves rapidly, with their wooden sword and bamboo staff never clashing, astonishing the onlookers with their seamless transitions and natural flow, each move appearing as if they had only made one continuous attack.

Since mastering his swordsmanship, Song Qingshu rarely met anyone who could withstand his continuous strikes. Remembering Ah Qing’s reputation as the top swordswoman in the Jin Yong’s literary universe, his spirit soared, showcasing the brilliance of his sword techniques.

Ah Qing, equally thrilled by the challenge, engaged Song Qingshu with her bamboo staff in an intense exchange. The two seemed to have a mutual understanding, focusing solely on techniques without using internal strength.

The audience watched with wide eyes, not wanting to miss a single move. Initially, they were awestruck by the swordsmanship, but soon most were overwhelmed, unable to grasp the depth of their techniques.

Huang Rong, being a high-level martial artist, managed better but found it increasingly challenging after thirty moves. Each move required deep contemplation to understand, often lagging behind as the two had already exchanged several more moves.

Zhang Songxi and Yin Liting exchanged astonished glances, marveling at Song Qingshu’s refined swordsmanship and Ah Qing’s seemingly celestial skills, considering even Zhang Sanfeng might not surpass them in pure swordsmanship.

Linghu Chong watched with his mouth agape. Knowing the final match was between Song Qingshu and Ah Qing, he couldn’t miss it despite his injuries, disregarding Ren Yingying’s advice.

“Ah Qing’s swordsmanship seems divine, while Brother Song’s has a hint of demonic charm. One is like a Sword Immortal, the other like a Sword Demon. Truly admirable.”

Among the audience, few could match Linghu Chong’s expertise in swordsmanship. Thus, he appreciated the intricacies more deeply, starting with competitive thoughts but soon drenched in cold sweat as he realized the vast gap between their mastery and his own.

Despite the famed ability of the Nine Swords of Dugu to counter any technique, it required the opponent to have a form to counter. The two on stage had transcended forms, fighting in a state of formlessness.

Linghu Chong recalled a past conversation with Feng Qingyang about how formless experts would duel. 

Feng Qingyang had no answer, showing his lack of experience with such duels.

Now witnessing it firsthand, Linghu Chong struggled to comprehend their responses, realizing only a formless master could truly understand such intricacies.

Ren Yingying, watching beside him, wore a complicated expression, wondering why such a divinely skilled man would act so frivolously with her.

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