Chapter 43 – Coming Battle

In the shadow of the moon, the courtyard along the shore of Lake Qiu was silent, only the sounds of trilling summer insects and the wind rustling through the tree leaves in the deep night.

Luo Mingchuan pushed open his window, the evening air poured in, the cold nipping at his face and clearing his mind.

Outside of his window directly facing Lake Qiu, an expanse of white fog lifted, the moonlight radiating a thousand miles.

He didn’t like his about-to-go-off-the-edge mood during the day, so he began to organize his thoughts.

In the dungeon, he found out he got drunk in the past, disturbed his shidi’s qi condensation, and caused him to step onto the wrong path. Therefore his heart felt guilty. Originally, deciding to descend the mountain together was because he wanted to make it up to his shidi, and to straighten things out.

But through this journey, just when did it change?

At the Fukong Sea shore, why shidi exchanged cards with him, he did not know. But he had the indescribable intuition that shidi was protecting him. When they were drinking the night of the full moon, when shidi leaned against his chest and said afterwards that he wanted to pass his days well, he still had not detangled what was in his heart.

Until today.

Until shidi opened his mouth and confirmed: there was already someone he would be happy with.

A gust blew through the night, dispersing the white fog before his eyes.

Luo Mingchuan had been cultivating for ten years and never before had he feared confronting his inner heart.

He thought, he would also be happy with his shidi.

But what about shidi?

Shidi was still too young, and his mind was also simple and pure, could he really distinguish between a shixiong’s feelings and the feelings of a dao companion?

Luo Mingchuan watched the tumultuous lake water.

It didn’t matter. He could wait.

From the Academy to Cang Ya, from Shidi’s thirteenth year to his twenty-third, in the future he would be there for every year of Shidi’s life.

Luo Mingchuan’s mind cleared, and he quickly entered a meditative state, beginning to practice the Jia Lan Pupil Arts.

When Yin Biyue’s mind was not peaceful as he meditated. He might as well get off the prayer mat, sit in front of a table, light a lamp, and polish his sword.

He recently felt more and more, sword polishing was something beneficial to the body and mind, allowing a person to quickly calm down.

The candle light illuminated three feet of the clear edge, and reflected his face in the sword.

Miss Qu was very good. Regardless of either family background or appearance, plus she was gifted and devoted to cultivation, with no negatives at all.

In that case, why was his first response to refuse? Could it be this happiness was not his to have?

“Within my heart is a wide road and love for the world, how can you restrict me?”

No, this kind of reasoning should be something that someone like Eldest Shixiong, or possibly Shifu, saying it.

He himself was clearly neither an ambitious nor solitary kind of person.

Because of the unrest in the world, crises one after another- fine; this can barely be called a reason.

Anything else?

Yin Biyue recalled his mental state at that time, discovering that his first response was unexpectedly fear of Luo Mingchuan misunderstanding.

He didn’t know why he was like this, an attitude like he was scared his puppy love would be discovered by the head of the household?

But that wasn’t all.

Maybe because he was a small-time villain for so long, going so long without being friendly with a young lady, suddenly one came out, and it was a goddess-tier girl, and he wasn’t ready for it.

It should be like this… probably.

The candles dimmed, he was already finished wiping clean his blade, and his mood had also calmed.

No matter the case, right now he had more important matters to deal with.

The matchups for the fourth round of the Flower Picking Festival will be released tomorrow.

This round they didn’t need to draw ballots themselves, only needing to wait for other people to pull their names.

First thing in the morning, Duan Chongxuan offered to run over to Chen Ying wall to see the results, and on the way back his entire body expressed complete terror.

Yin Biyue was somewhat anxious, “Who are you facing?”

“Xing Shan Temple’s Buddhist cultivator Hui De.”

“How likely are you to win?”

“Seven out of ten. This time it’s not seventy percent he’ll beat me, it really is a seventy percent chance.”

Yin Biyue was puzzled, “That’s good… who is Luo-shixiong facing?”

“Qing Lu Sword Sect’s Feng Wen Jin.”

Yin Biyue glanced at Luo Mingchuan and thought this was also nothing to worry about.

Chatterbox’s flitting gaze finally landed on his face, and a tragic expression of fond sorrow appeared,

“Fourth Shixiong, Zhong Shan pulled you.”

The three of them fell into silence.

Quite a while later, Yin Biyue said, “Eventually… there is bound to be a battle.”

But he didn’t expect it would be this fast. In his heart, he thought his fight with Zhong Shan would at the very least be dragged out to after the fifth round.

“Fourth Shixiong, what are your odds of success right now?”

“Four out of ten.”

Chatterbox sighed, “So accurate, those are the exact odds in the gambling houses.”

Yin Biyue stared blankly, “You’re betting I’ll win?”

Chatterbox said, “Of course!”

“…My bad. I forgot to tell you to bet on Zhong Shan.”

In reality, after seeing Zhong Shan’s previous few battles, Yin Biyue himself really wished he could bet on his opponent.

Chatterbox already cleared his head, snapped open his fan, and waved it, “No matter, no matter, I didn’t bet a lot, it’s just a single hair from nine oxen…”

He feared his own shixiong was feeling upset, so he didn’t dare say how much he really bet.

The whole time, Luo Mingchuan had no words to say. He suddenly opened his mouth, and with a strange strength that steadied one’s heart, he said:

“Don’t be so hasty, there is always a way; it isn’t impossible for Shidi to win.”

As if the spring breeze had brushed his face, Yin Biyue steadied his heart,,

“Right. I nevertheless will do my best to fight.”

The people at Lake Qiu wouldn’t know, at the Qing Lu Sword Sect’s Wutong Park, Cheng Tianyu also asked the same kind of question,

“Shixiong, what are your chances of winning?”

Zhong Shan replied, “Six out of ten.”

Cheng Tianyu laughed, “Shixiong is too modest, I think no less than eight out of ten!”

Zhong Shan shook his head, “No, it is six out of ten.”

Cheng Tianyu’s face was full of disbelief.

Song Tang patted his hair, smiled and said, “It’s however much your shixiong says, why don’t you go train.”

*************

This battle hurriedly arrived before the people expected.

Not just Yin Biyue- nobody thought that the day would actually come so quickly.

The information spread, and many people immediately set out to Ye City to see the match.

During the time the entire Southern Continent was covered in winds and rain, Song Tang let people from the Central Continent send over some papers. It was the inscription of the article Yin Biyue wrote during his three years at the Academy.

“After entering Cang Ya, there was little news of him, there’s nothing that can be done.”

Zhong Shan flipped through several delicate pages, “It’s enough.”

Right then, Yin Biyue was holding a page of the investigation that Duan Chongxuan had given him.

There were large and small papers, some with fine handwriting, some with illegible chicken scratch; written on them were the odd jobs that Zhong Shan had done before entering Qing Lu Sword Sect, or depictions of the direction and angle of his sword strikes. These bits of information were scattered, many seemingly useless, but Yin Biyue perused them earnestly.

Chatterbox felt a bit embarrassed, “There’s only this much.”

This had already exceeded Yin Biyue’s expectations, far beyond his judgement of Chatterbox’s information-gathering skills, “It’s already very good.”

From noon to the dead of the night, Yin Biyue stood in front of the window, quietly thinking. Closing his eyes, countless scenes flashed by, seeming like he was experiencing the past sixteen years of Zhong Shan’s life.

The youngster made a name for himself, immersed himself in the sword arts, solitary and dedicated.

After he entered Qing Lu Sword Sect, his matters became muddled.

The Sword of Wind and Rain Arts were well-known, not some guarded secret. From the top to bottom of the Qing Lu Sword Sect, at least forty disciples were practicing it. Within the Lan Yuan Academy library, there were also relevant records.

But there was only one true Feng Yu Sword.

It was a saber belonging to a Sage during the All Saint’s Era millions of years ago, afterwards it was damaged in the Demonic Cultivation War and retrieved by Qing Lu Sword Sect. After ten years spending innumerable efforts on its restoration, seventy percent of its power was restored.

The year Zhong Shan turned eighteen, he practiced the set of the Sword of Wind and Rain Arts on Qing Lu Mountain, and ultimately through the judgement of the Sage Zhou Yuandao, this sword was given to him.

Zhong Shan lived up to expectations. By age twenty he had already peered into the true meaning of the Sword of Wind and Rain Arts, and was called the genius most likely to enter the Saint stage within the next three centuries.

The jumble of fragments and information collected and filtered again through Yin Biyue’s mind, and he felt that his current self could never reach Zhong Shan.

After a very long time, he opened his eyes, heaved a long sigh of relief, in this condition where he’s extremely filled with spirit, he thought he had a fifty percent chance!

He even pushed open the door, stood in the courtyard and took a deep breath to calm down from his excitable mood.

Lifting his head, he saw that the light was still lit in Luo Mingchuan’s room, the blurry silhouette of a person cast on the paper window.

Shixiong was also still up? It looked like he was writing something.

If it was any other night, Yin Biyue would not have done anything.

But tonight he was his spirits were too high; to the point of being brazen and audacious. So he actually went and knocked on Luo Mingchuan’s window, restrained his excitement and called softly,

“Shixiong, you also haven’t slept?”

The rustling of papers sounded through the window, and it was pushed open from the inside.

Luo Mingchuan really was seated before the table writing. “Shidi, it’s another cold night, why are you standing in the courtyard?”

He rose and opened the door to invite Yin Biyue inside. Sure enough, Shidi’s body temperature at night was even lower.

Yin Biyue was brought into the room, and thought going further in would be inappropriate, and so stood in front of the writing desk,

“Shixiong, I have some good news to tell you!”

Luo Mingchuan had properly abided by etiquette for so many years and had never before been in the same room as someone else so late at night.

In the academy library, there were at least other people. Drinking on the rooftop at night was at least outdoors…

Letting his imagination run wild, he again thought compared to Shidi, he was too dishonest, and was disquieted for a moment and asked without thinking, “What’s the good news?”

Yin Biyue wanted to say that he now had a fifty percent chance of success against Zhong Shan. But the next moment, his gaze landed on the letter upon the table, and he immediately lost his words.

Luo Mingchuan only now realized what he had been writing and distress shot through him, but it was already too late.

Yin Biyue looked into his eyes and asked, “Shixiong, what is this?”

On the table was a written letter of challenge.

It was issued from Luo Mingchuan to Zhong Shan, with the time set the day before Yin Biyue’s match.

The wording was extremely provocative, just looking at would make someone angered to the point of being unable to resist wanting to follow through.

Yin Biyue understood in practically an instant what Luo Mingchuan intended to do.

He wanted to challenge Zhong Shan before Yin Biyue, and ideally win; but even if he couldn’t win, at least do his utmost to exhaust the opponent.

If this kind of method was leaked to the masses, it would no doubt attract much criticism.

Even if other people’s people’s opinions weren’t considered, this matter already violated the principles Luo Mingchuan always followed. It was a truly ignoble deed.

Luo Mingchuan knew anything he said now would be too late. He forced out a bitter laugh, and didn’t say another word.

Yin Biyue tore the letter up and earnestly thought for a while,

“Shixiong, I know this is for my benefit… but, you don’t need to go this far…”

Yin Biyue knew, if Luo Mingchuan could think up this sort of method, and even wrote this kind of radically worded letter, a lot of effort had already been put in. But he still said,

“I want to try on my own.”

Do I know if 亚圣周远道 is actually a person? No. If I am wrong I will call myself out later…