Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Six: The Great Deceiver
Life as a disciple in the Sword Flower Palace is incredibly monotonous.
Sang Zhe has observed this. Their daily routine primarily includes rising early for lessons, eating, practicing swordsmanship, practicing swordsmanship, and more practicing swordsmanship…
Until they return to their dormitories at night and go to sleep.
Monotonous, tedious, and boring—it looked even worse than Sang Zhe’s corporate drone life.
But the disciples of Sword Flower Palace seem to have adapted to this lifestyle.
Seeing them fervently practicing swordplay on the training grounds, Sang Zhe could only languidly lean against the window of the confinement room, daydreaming about these young and beautiful girls.
It was reminiscent of college days during military training, squatting at the roadside during breaks while checking out the attractive freshmen on the sports field.
In fact, the news of a man arriving at Sword Flower Palace had naturally spread among the disciples a long time ago.
Many young female disciples passing by the confinement room would secretly peek inside and whisper among themselves.
But the only one bold enough to step in and interact with Sang Zhe was Qiu Ju.
Every day during mealtime, Qiu Ju would come in to bring food for Sang Zhe. The little girl showed no pretense in front of him, always nervously calling him “Young Master Sang,” completely different from her sister, who couldn’t find anyone to her liking.
Sang Zhe enjoyed teasing Qiu Ju every now and then.
The innocent girl would blush and fluster at his casual remarks, ultimately shyly fleeing in embarrassment.
However, through these interactions, Sang Zhe had grown somewhat familiar with Qiu Ju, and they could converse.
——
——
“Qiu Ju, have your studies increased in intensity these days?”
Once again, during mealtime, as Qiu Ju was setting the table for him, Sang Zhe suddenly asked.
“Ah, it’s because the Sword Palace Grand Competition is approaching.”
She spoke softly and quietly: “The Grand Competition is our exam, used to evaluate our progress over the year.”
“No use of cultivation is permitted during the evaluation; it’s solely about swordsmanship skills and comprehension of sword techniques.”
Sang Zhe nodded thoughtfully:
“Since you and your sister are the palace master’s sword attendants, doesn’t that mean your previous exam results have been quite good?”
Upon hearing this, Qiu Ju couldn’t help but blush, awkwardly responding: “Not really…”
“Chun Lan truly has extraordinary talent; her sword techniques are sharp and swift. Among the disciples, hardly anyone can surpass her in comprehension of swordsmanship.”
“I… I just happened to be lucky enough to follow my sister…”
Seeing her shy and self-deprecating expression, Sang Zhe shook his head:
“Not at all.”
“Your sword skills are the result of hard training and countless refinements to achieve their current brilliance.”
“Why do you have to be so self-deprecating?”
“In fact, you are much more impressive than you think. Stand tall and be confident.”
“Your swordsmanship is really quite astonishing.”
Qiu Ju looked at the gentle gaze in Sang Zhe’s eyes and, after a moment of daze, accidentally knocked over a teacup on the table.
Water spilled everywhere, and the little girl hurriedly bowed her head in apology:
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m so clumsy, I’ll clean it up right away…”
“It’s okay, I’ll help too.”
They hurriedly cleaned up the mess, but the girl’s face had turned a deep crimson; she couldn’t bear to stay in the room for another second and quickly bowed before dashing out.
Just as she rushed out the door, Qiu Ju bumped straight into Chun Lan, who was passing by.
“Hey, Qiu Ju…”
Chun Lan was about to greet Qiu Ju, but then saw her flushed face as she covered it and fled quickly.
Turning around, she glanced at the still-open door of the confinement room.
Chun Lan immediately felt a surge of anger.
“Hey! What did you do to my sister?”
As Sang Zhe was still tidying up the table, Chun Lan stormed in, staring at him with a haughty glare.
“Nothing, I just accidentally made Qiu Ju knock over a teacup. She got a little shy and ran away.”
Seeing Sang Zhe’s innocent face, Chun Lan stared at him for a while before grumbling:
“I’m warning you, my sister may have a good temper, but she’s not someone you can bully just because you want to.”
“If I find out you’re bullying my sister, I’ll report you to the palace master!”
Sang Zhe shrugged, withholding comment.
Chun Lan tossed him an exasperated glare before turning to look for Qiu Ju.
Just as she stepped out, Sang Zhe’s voice, laced with regret, trailed behind her:
“…Ah, what a pity. Such a good seedling, wasted.”
Chun Lan turned back suspiciously to see Sang Zhe seated in the chair, clicking his tongue in amazement while gazing at her retreating figure.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Sang Zhe waved his hand, “You can go.”
Totally confused, Chun Lan pouted as she turned back.
However, after taking a few steps, she heard his low mumble again:
“If this little girl isn’t able to use her sword in the future, how sad that would be.”
Chun Lan turned back again, her annoyance rising, “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.”
Sang Zhe grinned innocently, “I just see some flaws, you can’t take it to heart. You should go.”
Chun Lan glared at him with fury, feeling her teeth grind, and she turned on her heels to leave.
“It’s already too late once you notice a flaw.”
“…What are you mumbling about!”
Chun Lan had finally had enough.
She charged in front of Sang Zhe, hands on her hips, tilting her head up defiantly to glare at him, resembling a proud goose.
“If you have something to say, then say it to my face!”
“Not much.” Sang Zhe wore a mysterious expression, “I saw you practicing swordplay on the training grounds and noticed some flaws.”
“But as a noble sword attendant of the Sword Flower Palace, you must not believe the careless words of someone like me, a wild cultivator.”
“Ah, just leave and pretend I said nothing.”
“Whether I believe it or not, you have to say it for me to judge,” Chun Lan was itching with curiosity, utterly fed up with half-spoken remarks.
Sang Zhe stole a glance at her.
“Well, I’ll say it. But you mustn’t get angry.”
“I won’t get angry, just say it.”
“For me to say… you practiced swordsmanship wrong.”
Chun Lan’s eyes widened in fury, her brows knitting in anger.
“Okay! You really have some guts!”
“I’m a rightful disciple of the Sword Flower Palace; my sword techniques are personally taught by the palace master, and I’ve trained in the unpassed skills of the Sword Flower Palace.”
“You, a wild cultivator, dare to critique me for doing my sword practice wrong?”
“Your sword techniques are good techniques.” Sang Zhe snorted, “But, alas, teaching must consider the student’s ability.”
“If you make someone practice techniques that don’t suit them, it’s like a little boy giving up his seat to an old lady in a public restroom—totally out of place.”
What a mess. Chun Lan frowned tightly: “Well, tell me where I have problems.”
“I’m not going to trick you.”
Sang Zhe spoke mysteriously: “Let me ask you, hasn’t your sword technique reached a bottleneck? Do you find yourself unable to improve no matter how hard you practice?”
“Yeah… so what?”
“Well, that’s it.”
He gently patted Chun Lan’s shoulder, feigning regret as he continued, “It’s not that your talent has peaked; it’s that your sword path has hit a deadlock.”
“If you keep practicing this way, it’ll lead you to madness, and you won’t be able to practice swordsmanship anymore.”
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