Chapter 8
Yan Zhengming has been practicing swordsmanship with his master for nearly eight years, and he has only just managed to master the third form of the wooden sword.
Although he understood in his heart, he could not articulate the profound and elusive feeling he experienced. A thousand words surged beneath his tongue, and he did not know where to begin. In the end, Yan Zhengming seemed to be possessed by something as he blurted out: "It seems... not very good looking"
The swords of the junior disciples are nothing but a joke; apart from Li Jun, who still has a semblance of a person, the other two little ones are basically just two big monkeys holding sticks, playing with wooden swords and juggling, while the master is there correcting their sword-holding postures.
This phrase "things go against one's wishes" is aptly named, though I do not know who coined it. Despite numerous corrections, he remains unaware of where he is stuck, and that awkward feeling lingers in every move and gesture.
Although the initial stance was awkwardly transformed into a performance resembling a middle-aged person's rendition of the Five Animals Play by the master, the swordsmanship itself was not laughable
However, the phrase "Peng Cheng Wan Li" remarkably aligns with the mindset of a young person entering the realm of immortals. Yan Zhengming recalled the feeling he had when he first saw the myriad of talismans on the mountains—fresh, curious, and filled with an uncontrollable imagination about the future
Yan Zhengming then glared at her, the leader sat down with dissatisfaction, and weakly nodded towards Cheng Qian: "You practice, I will watch, if there is anything you do not understand, feel free to ask."
In a moment, regarding that matter: "The East Sea has a heavy sword weighing three hundred jin. Just now, you were holding it with both hands. Xiaoyuan, I see that you are not practicing swordsmanship, but rather forging iron."
At times, one must also use both arms to run around frantically, trying to extinguish the fire ignited by Li Jun's troublemaking: "Don't make a fuss, don't make a fuss, oh dear, be careful not to poke an eye!"
It is not particularly honorable to mention, yet despite his lack of pursuit for literary or martial accomplishments and his lazy demeanor, he still spent a full two years stuck on this particular form, which is somewhat embarrassing
Why did Yan Zhengming feel increasingly powerless starting from the second form "Searching Up and Down" and find it even more difficult to continue with the third form "Things Go Against One's Wishes"—because he neither understood the essence of searching up and down nor comprehended what it meant for things to go against one's wishes
He practiced the disassembled technique several times in the slow and leisurely manner of his master. After becoming somewhat familiar with it, his gaze suddenly sharpened. In that instant, Yan Zhengming involuntarily lowered his hand that was reaching for the teacup—he realized that the vital energy contained in the tip of the sword was extremely familiar; this kid was imitating Li Jun
Master Mu Chuan will always behave in this manner. This worthless master never answers his disciples' questions directly, instead he resorts to vague and obscure discussions that are utterly irrelevant.
He merely furrowed his long eyebrows and cast an unhappy glance at the little girl beside him, yet he refused to utter a word of warning, leaving the young girl pale under his gaze, utterly at a loss and on the verge of tears
Yan Zhengming suddenly stood up, and as he observed Cheng Qian's sword, he fortuitously touched upon something that had long puzzled him—the elusive and ever-changing nature of the swordsmanship, as well as the reason why his master never explained it—because the swordsmanship itself is alive
Finally, it was still Xueqing, who was waiting beside Cheng Qian, unable to bear it any longer, who softly pointed out: "The stone is cold"
According to this standard, individuals like Han Yuan are, in his eyes, deemed utterly irredeemable
Little did he know that the one filled with even more resentment than him was Cheng Qian, who could not understand why his master was unwilling to personally guide him. What could the senior brother accomplish?
He relied entirely on his memory, cautiously imitating his master's trembling movements, constantly comparing his actions with his recollections, so that he could correct himself before that dog behind him could stick its pointed snout through the door curtain and speak up to correct him.
As Yan Zhengming turned around, his gaze fell upon Cheng Qian, who did not look him in the eye at all, appearing like a child who had never seen the world. With a "shy" demeanor, he lowered his head and followed closely behind his master.
However, his master never spoke about it; Mu Chun could only tremble and gesture the basic moves, with everything else left to his own understanding
Lazily as he is, there are always a few days in a month when he wishes to deceive his teachers and betray his ancestors
However, Yan Zhengming ultimately did not want to embarrass his master in front of his junior disciples. He suppressed the almost instinctive dissent that was about to escape his lips and patiently asked, "Master, it seems that this move 'against my wishes' always has something amiss."
Cheng Qian, after all, is merely imitating, and coupled with his youth and lack of strength, he is far from possessing the boldness of youth that Li Jun exhibits. However, once that spirit is infused, the wooden sword in his hand suddenly transforms—it's as if it were originally a piece of paper lying flat on the ground, but now it gradually swells, taking on a three-dimensional form
At the same time, Master Yan also admitted that he was somewhat superficial—he was very self-aware, knowing that he possessed neither "knowledge" nor "character" in any significant measure. Since he himself lacked these two qualities, it was unreasonable to demand them from others. Therefore, Yan Zhengming's preferences regarding a person naturally boiled down to just one criterion: "appearance".
The master's demonstration was so serene and gentle that as Cheng Qian recalled it, the gestures and movements of the wooden blossom true person were vividly arrayed in his mind
Yan Zhengming is not an ignorant little beggar like Han Yuan. Before joining the Fuyiao Sect, his family had already hired the best swordsmanship master for him. Even if his skills are not exceptional, he is not blind.
The wooden deity, Cheng Qian, coughed lightly beside him and called out: "Disciple."
This shape remains somewhat ambiguous, as the accuracy of Cheng Qian's sword techniques, not to mention a comparison with Li Jun, is still open to discussion.
Yan Zhengming was already accustomed to this, yet he could not help but ask with a hint of playful petulance: "Until when?"
The master said: "Although the wooden sword shows mercy, a real sword does not have eyes. When dealing with weapons, one must be extremely cautious—Cheng Qian, do not let your fingers rest on the blade. The ten fingers are connected to the heart; do you not feel it yourself?"
On several occasions, Yan Zhengming wanted to ask him why he was unwilling to break down those exquisite sword techniques and explain them in detail, but without exception, he was evaded by that old yellow weasel pretending to be mad and foolish.
Xiao Yu'er then remembered that she had just let their young master sit directly on the stone bench, leaving him to cool down!
Indeed, this point of attractiveness is very limited; after all, Cheng Qian is still young, and whether he will be beautiful or ugly in the future remains uncertain. It is not enough to pique Young Master Yan's interest in watching a little ragged child wield a wooden stick.
He suddenly waved his hand and shouted in a harsh tone: "All of you, get out of the way and don't cause trouble here! From now on, you are not allowed to come over while I practice my swordsmanship!"
Yan Zhengming leisurely wiped his wooden sword with a piece of silk, while observing his junior disciples practicing their swordsmanship for a while
Yan Zhengming pondered for a moment, stood up, and attempted to perform the third form "Things Go Against One's Wishes".
Everything feels wrong, and the entire body is not in harmony. Practicing this move, Yan Zhengming feels as if the rivers are flowing backward within him, making it extremely strenuous.
It is likely that even someone with a poor memory would struggle to remember this, and perhaps even the emperor himself does not have as many flaws as he does
The wooden camellia deity asked with a gentle expression: "What is wrong?"
Li Jun is not just unable to take care of things; he is already on the verge of taking the roof off with Han Yuan.
Where did this come from? It is simply because Young Master Yan, having nothing to do, whimsically established numerous "rules"—such as the requirement for clothes and shoes to be of the same color, the specific times one must come to comb his hair, how many times the study desk must be wiped in a day, and so on. One must not speak before having a cup of suitable cold tea in the morning... and so forth, all of which were created by him alone.
Young Master Yan's gaze swept around before finally settling on Cheng Qian, observing the child for a few more moments.
In places unseen by others, it mockingly ridicules the many bizarre phenomena within the sect with a sense of "shyness".
Then, for some unknown reason, Young Master Yan, who had already taken his seat, suddenly sprang up as if resurrected from the dead.
As for Cheng Qian, Yan Zhengming found him quite pleasing to the eye; otherwise, he would not have immediately treated him with such kindness, akin to a blooming iron tree, by offering him sweets upon their first meeting—unfortunately, his third junior brother did not appreciate it
Such imitative ability would make even monkeys feel ashamed. Yan Zhengming was initially somewhat indifferent, but over time, his gaze gradually focused on Cheng Qian— that little rascal actually took the liberty to break down several moves of the first form and practiced them according to his master's instructions.
The wooden sword can no longer guide him
Yan Zhengming, however, in that moment, grasped something; he felt that he had gained insight into the sword intent of the Fuyiao wooden sword
Cheng Qian was taken aback to hear this statement, as he did not expect that the senior brother actually knew what "to show off" meant
Mu Chun pointed at Cheng Qian and said: "Your second junior brother cannot manage alone, so please guide the third junior brother a bit later."
She hurriedly feigned a state of utter despair, weeping and wailing as she approached, her movements swift as lightning, providing the young master with three layers of cushioning.
How can he position himself in front of the mirror to appear as if he has a higher nose bridge
Yan Zhengming cast a troubled glance at his solemn third junior brother, feeling there was nothing worthwhile to say to this little fellow. In a fit of pique, he randomly chose a spot to sit down, slumping against a stone table without any grace. A young Taoist approached, carefully taking his wooden sword with both hands and wiping it down with a piece of white silk.
The maid, Xiaoyu, nervously asked, "Young Master, is this a new rule?"
The master, with a beaming smile, practiced Tai Chi and said, "Haste makes waste; you can wait a little longer for this move"
Yan Zhengming: "... ..."
However, Li Jun... Even though Li Jun had a decent appearance, Yan Zhengming still decided to be irreconcilable with him, as that person was truly despicable
The Taoist boys and maidservants, who were on high alert, quickly rushed forward in a flurry, some fanning, while others wiped their sweat
The wooden camellia deity said gently: "Wait until you grow a few more inches."
"Judging a person by their appearance" is Yan Zhengming's steadfast principle in dealing with others. In this regard, he is only willing to make exceptions for two individuals: one is his master, and the other is Li Jun
Yan Zhengming had not yet mastered his own sword techniques and had no intention of instructing others. Upon hearing this, he frowned openly and, in a display of arrogance due to favoritism, unleashed a torrent of impatience and grievances towards his master
Cheng Qian had been climbing trees to eavesdrop since he was young. At that time, he had no books or notebooks, and it was even less likely for him to ask questions. Thus, he inadvertently developed an extraordinary skill of photographic memory.
The Fuyiao Wooden Sword consists of a total of five forms: "Pengcheng Wanli", "Shangxia Qiuxuo", "Shiyu Yuanwei", "Shengji Ershuai", and "Fanpu Guizhen". Each form contains twenty-five moves, with countless variations. As the years have passed and with the growth of age, Yan Zhengming sometimes experiences an almost overwhelming illusion that this sword technique encompasses the myriad phenomena of the universe. At every point, pausing to reflect can give rise to countless subsequent possibilities.
Having spoken, Mu Chun brazenly handed Cheng Qian over to the sect's "treasure of the school" and leisurely returned to the pavilion to enjoy tea
The essence of the sword is neither the peach on the tree nor the fish in the water. Without decades of dedication, no one can achieve the realm of unity with the sword, and it is impossible to condense the essence of the sword. As for Cheng Qian, that little brat is certainly even less capable of demonstrating any 'sword essence'; it is already quite remarkable that he can hold the sword steady without hitting his own foot.
The group of junior disciples raised by the master was bustling and running about, while Yan Zhengming stood idly by, holding his wooden sword, lost in thought as he pondered his own stagnant progress.
With a cold and detached gaze, Cheng Qian once again confirmed that this senior brother was nothing more than a big fool adorned in gold and silver
Unfortunately, this time the flattery has backfired, as the young master has reached a bottleneck in his sword practice. Already feeling restless and irritable, he finds it even harder to grasp that elusive spark of inspiration within him, especially with this group of fools stirring things up.
to say "unsightly" is simply an overstatement for these little brats
The Fuyiao Sect adheres to the ancient tradition of "The master leads you to the door, but the cultivation is up to the individual." Their master, who wields a mere stick, has never revealed even the slightest bit of true skill or knowledge; he merely sets up a grand framework for them, while he does not concern himself with what is filled within that framework.
He is fully aware of the fact that he is a wastrel, yet he believes that his indulgent behavior neither offends heaven nor violates reason, and it does not harm anyone. Thus, he feels justified, never repents, and progressively intensifies his behavior in accordance with his mood.
Young Master Yan's expression had not yet eased; as his upper lip touched his lower lip, a new rule was freshly established: "From now on, when I practice swordsmanship, I will not call you, and you are not allowed to gather around casually, as it is embarrassing."
Perhaps it cannot be said to be the "sword intent," but rather that the wooden sword of Fuyiao itself resonates with the state of mind of the sword wielder, as if the sword technique is guiding the person holding the sword.
Cheng Qian regarded his senior brother as a bothersome presence, akin to a cloud of murky air that obstructed his sight and hearing. He did not respond at all, resolutely deciding to ignore the other party and fully immersing himself in his wooden sword.
Even a Taoist boy would probably not have cared for his own face with such tenderness
Although the master has a notoriously wicked appearance, Young Master Yan has followed him in his cultivation for eight years, having been almost spoiled by him during his upbringing. Therefore, he feels a close emotional bond and is willing to overlook this aspect.
Yan Zhengming stopped halfway through his practice, frowning as he stared at his wooden sword