Ze Tian Ji

Chapter 589 - Straight Sword

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Guan Bai had given his explanation and now, it was up to Chen Changsheng whether or not he wanted to accept it.

To him, this truly was a rather more troublesome problem. Many people felt that at least today, he should not step forward.

Guan Bai was not one of those initial level Star Condensation cultivators that had lost to him, but a true master of the sword, his cultivation level far above Chen Changsheng's. More importantly, Guan Bai had somehow been heavily injured, his right arm severed. Even if it was as he said, that he had relearned how to use the sword with his left arm, it was impossible for him to have returned to his peak condition. Even if Chen Changsheng went all out and won over him, there would be no glory in it.

He was the future Pope. If he won, he would attract criticisms. If he lost, it would be extremely humiliating. The best method was to not accept his opponent's challenge at all.

It was very quiet, all eyes on Chen Changsheng as they awaited his decision. No one dared to urge him, but the silence and these gazes created an invisible pressure.

It was at this moment that a clear and cold voice could be heard through those layers of white curtain. "The road of cultivation is long and endless, but since you've already stepped upon it, how can you stop? As long as you incessantly press forward, there will come a time when you walk to that day. There's no need to worry about whether you arrive early or late, let alone a need to care about victory or defeat, and why should the slander or praise of the world disorder your heart? Could it be that you haven't even understood this yet?"

There were not more than ten people who could speak to Chen Changsheng with such a tone. Of those present, only the Elder of Heavenly Secrets and…Xu Yourong had the right.

The speaker was Xu Yourong, her voice clear and cold, even somewhat indifferent. It was difficult to ascertain the emotions behind it.

Many people followed the voice to the canopy of white curtains on the high platform and the faintly discernible figure of the beauty within. They began to feel strange because a strange atmosphere had descended over the scene.

Xu Yourong's words seemed to be encouragement, but if interpreted through another angle, it was more like goading, even ridicule.

When the crowd thought of this, they couldn't help but sigh as they thought, even the Holy Maiden with her brightly lit Dao heart still has some resentment from the humiliation she received in the capital from the ending of the engagement.

When the people of the Mount Li Sword Sect heard this, however, they began thinking about other things.

Guan Feibai looked to Gou Hanshi and asked uncertainly, "Seeing Junior Sister's response, Eldest Brother…might still have a chance?"

Gou Hanshi was well-versed in the Daoist Canon, but he truly was not clear on these matters.

The only person present that understood the whole truth of the matter was Tang Thirty-Six. When he saw those expressions on the crowd and the activity from the Mount Li Sword Sect, his lips turned into a sneer as he thought with derision, how can any of you understand the unreasonable and different sort of loving affection this young couple display to each other.

They believed that Xu Yourong was ridiculing Chen Changsheng with these words.

Tang Thirty-Six knew that she was not, and Chen Changsheng was even more certain that she was not. He understood her meaning.

Cultivation required continuous tempering, advancing required continuous challenges. Victory and defeat were not important; slander and praise mattered even less.

If he wanted to break through, he needed to learn to disregard all these things and return to the essence of cultivation.

By means of his realizations of life, by means of his extraordinary perception that he had obtained through battle, by means of the powerful mental strength that he had obtained from that greatest of pressures that came from living between life and death.

He did not turn to her behind the white curtains, rather turning his gaze towards that warm mist in the heart of the lake. Finally, he drew back his gaze to look at Guan Bai on the stone platform.

The lake gently gusted, blowing about the dust on the stone slabs, Guan Bai's empty sleeve, and his own sleeves.

He walked onto the stone platform and stood before Guan Bai.

This was the first time that many people were able to see him up close.

The crowd realized that the legendary Chen Changsheng was not very handsome, but his appearance was very clean, and he gave off the feeling of underripe youth.

He stood there like a refreshing spring breeze that was free from the constraints of the earth.

Sounds of discussion, sighs of emotion, and comments of praise could be heard from the crowd.

Guan Bai was very calm. Saying nothing more, he took the longsword from his waist and raised it in the air before him.

He only had one hand now, so how would he unsheathe his sword?

His hand slowly proceeded up the sword and when it arrived at the hilt, his fingers slightly increased their strength and tightened their grip.

With melodious ring, the sword sheath slowly slid down, revealing the bright sword.

This was a very beautiful sight.

It was just like the several dozen mu of green moss growing on the surface of a lake, slowly being rolled up by a gale and then taken away.

(TN: A mu is Chinese measure of area that is equivalent 0.1647 acres.)

It was even more like a general, stained by blood and dust, slowly and firmly removing his armor, revealing his body brimming with strength.

This was taking off one's armor.

Taking off one's armor did not always mean that one intended to return to one's home—it could also be the prelude to a magnificent battle.

(TN: 卸甲归田, 'taking off one's armor and returning home', is a Chinese idiom that means retirement from office.)

Or perhaps this was a battle that was returning to its very essence, a childish and clumsy battle.

This battle was not influenced by any external factors, was not entangled by the interests of any factions, and had no bets or gambles on the line. It was purely a battle.

What was compared was strength, what they strived for was victory, what they wanted was joy.

In just the simple act of pulling a sword from its sheath, Guan Bai had completely displayed his intentions and will to fight.

The eyes of many people brightened.

Especially the eyes of cultivators like Guan Feibai.

Who didn't like this sort of battle?

Even Tang Thirty-Six felt his body grow somewhat hot, subconsciously walking towards the stage and coming to where the people of the Mount Li Sword Sect were standing, wanting to be even closer to this battle.

Only Zhexiu had no response, his expression still indifferent, unable to gather any interest. Unlike what the common people imagined, he truthfully had no love for battle. In his view, the purpose of battle was to slay one's enemy. Victory, joy and these other sorts of things showed an excessive lack of understanding.

(TN: This paragraph actually ends with a Chinese idiom, 何不食肉糜, which translates to 'why don't they eat meat?'. This question was the solution proposed by Emperor Hui of Jin when told that his people were starving from lack of rice, reflecting his poor understanding of the situation. A similar phrase is 'let them eat cake', purportedly said by Marie Antoinette.)

In the next moment, the fighting intent of the crowd which had been stirred up swiftly vanished.

The light in the eyes of Guan Feibai and the rest instantly vanished, replaced by stupefaction and defeat.

Because a sword intent had appeared on the peak of Mount Han.

This sword intent came from the sword in Guan Bai's hand, from his brows and eyes, from his tightly bound black hair, and also from his vacant sleeve. It came from every pore of his body.

This sword intent was incomparably awe-inspiring, incomparably dense. The gravel and bits of grass that had previously been shattered by Liang Banhu's and Guan Feibai's sword intents were now cut into even finer grains.

The lake and wind that had been chopped apart and then reformed were once more sliced apart, countless slashes appearing on them. Moreover, for a moment, they could not reform, and the scene was somewhat wondrous.

It was a powerful sword intent, such that even people as proud and self-confident as Guan Feibai and Tang Thirty-Six were forced to admit that they were no match for this sword intent.

The crowd was full of cries of surprise, but then they became even quieter than before.

All eyes were on Guan Bai, overflowing with shock and reverence.

He was truly worthy of being an expert of the Proclamation of Liberation, the Famous Name of the Heavenly Dao Academy. Guan Bai had lost an arm and his strength had been heavily damaged, but not only did his strength not decrease, he even seemed to advance one more step on the path of the sword!

Just like Xu Yourong had said to Chen Changsheng a moment ago, opportunity often arose from defeat, breakthroughs often originated from trials of life-or-death.

In the capital last year, because of that stray dog's miserable encounter in the alley, Guan Bai had refused to let the old Daoist nun depart, which led to his suffering the greatest humiliation and beating of his life.

He left the capital and secluded himself in a remote mountain village. He used half a year to recover from his severed arm and then he began to quietly contemplate.

By the creek running along the cliff, by the pond behind the farmhouse, he calmly and seriously thought for a very long time.

He confirmed that he had not done anything wrong on that night. Disregarding the fact that he was an expert of the Proclamation of Liberation, even if he were still a child of five or six that did not know how to cultivate, he still would have stood there.

Because this matter was right, it should be done, so why should he understand, why should he care who that old Daoist nun was? Why should he regret?

No, no regret.

Guan Bai had no idea that the question he had considered by the creek and next to the pond had been considered many years ago by a person called Wang Po, had been pondered in the wilderness of Tianliang County.

After Wang Po thought through this question, he finally possessed his own path of the blade.

Although this path of the blade was far from the power and terror of Zhou Dufu's path of the blade, in terms of level, it was already worthy of being discussed on the same terms.

This path of the blade was called 'straight'.

After Guan Bai had thought through this question, he also came to have his own path of the sword, also called 'straight'.

On that day, when the mountains were filled with maple leaves, and the cicadas incessantly chirped by the pond, his path of the sword achieved great success.

……

……

Chen Changsheng sensed Guan Bai's sword intent and his heart was filled with admiration.

He regarded Wang Po as an idol, so it was impossible for him to not like this sword intent.

In addition, he faintly understood just what Guan Bai had encountered in the capital.

He deeply admired the fact that this man could recover from his severed arm in the course of a short year and that he had even advanced in terms of his level on the path of the sword, but he admired even more the reason this man had been so heavily wounded.

Such a person, such a sword intent—how to respond? Naturally, it could also only be 'straight'.

With a boom, the snowy plain within his body began to explosively blaze, transforming into boundless true essence which was conveyed through those narrow meridians to every place of his body.

His body seemed to drag an afterimage behind it, then transformed into a straight line and crossed the stone platform to thrust at Guan Bai.

This attack was incomparably straight.