Start cultivating immortality in Xiaoao world, bumped into the master’s wife at the start!
Chapter 25 - A Martial Arts Genius Who Is Rare in a Thousand Years

Chapter 25: A Martial Arts Genius Who Is Rare in a Thousand Years

The long sword in Linghu Chong’s hand moved like a swimming dragon.

The flowing sword light was like a purple rainbow and lightning; the changes in sword forms were ever-shifting in an instant.

Linghu Chong’s movements were like a ghost’s—his swordsmanship firm yet gentle, gentle yet firm, light and ethereal, as though a celestial being, causing even the air around him to seem frozen in this moment.

After a while—

“Hoo—”

Linghu Chong sheathed his sword and exhaled a breath of white turbid air.

At that moment, something seemed to change in him—his aura became restrained and steady, and an air of transcendence and grace surrounded his entire being.

“Could this be the Dugu Nine Swords?”

A doubt rose in Linghu Chong’s heart, but he soon shook his head.

This wasn’t the Dugu Nine Swords—he was certain of that.

But there were traces of the Dugu Nine Swords within it.

This was another sword style—one that didn’t belong to any known martial art in the present world.

In other words, he had actually comprehended an entirely new sword technique from the words left behind by Feng Qingyang.

“How is that possible?”

Linghu Chong couldn’t believe it, but the fact remained.

But why would it be like this?

Why is it that when I looked at the characters left behind by Feng Qingyang, I could see sword forms flowing before my eyes?

Linghu Chong furrowed his brows and pondered for a long time, but still couldn’t make sense of it.

He could only attribute all of this to two words—

Genius!!!

Just then, an aged voice rang out from behind him.

“Have you studied the Dugu Nine Swords before?”

“Who’s there?!”

Linghu Chong was shocked and quickly turned around. He saw that at some point, an old man in green robes with white hair had already appeared behind him.

Upon seeing the person clearly, Linghu Chong relaxed, a faint smile appearing on his face.

Dressed in a green robe, white-haired and bearded, he exuded an immortal air, otherworldly and distinguished.

There could be no mistake.

“Disciple Linghu Chong greets Granduncle-Master Feng!” Linghu Chong promptly cupped his fists and bowed in respect.

His movement was so swift that even Feng Qingyang hadn’t anticipated it. Surprised, he said, “Oh? You actually know of this old man?”

“How could this disciple not know the famed Granduncle-Master Feng? I grew up listening to your stories—your swordsmanship is unparalleled, the best under heaven.” Linghu Chong smiled lightly.

“Haha! Good lad, so you really did come for me.” At this point, Feng Qingyang also understood—Linghu Chong truly had come seeking him.

“Hehe!” Linghu Chong chuckled but didn’t answer directly.

“You still haven’t answered my earlier question—have you studied the Dugu Nine Swords before?” Feng Qingyang repeated his earlier question.

“Ah? The Dugu Nine Swords? No, I haven’t.” Linghu Chong looked confused as he responded.

“Then why did your swordplay just now contain traces of the Dugu Nine Swords?” Feng Qingyang asked with a frown.

“Oh, that!” Linghu Chong suddenly understood. It seemed Feng Qingyang had already shown up and seen the swordplay he had just performed.

Smiling, he said, “Granduncle-Master, I have to thank you for that. I gained insight from the words you left carved on the stone wall.”

“What? You’re saying you comprehended a sword technique from those three words?”

Feng Qingyang was stunned—his slightly transparent eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

“Mm!” Linghu Chong nodded.

“How can that be possible?”

Feng Qingyang was shocked. He looked at the characters he had left behind—aside from looking impressive, there wasn’t anything special about them, right?

He hadn’t left behind any kind of secret technique or hidden instructions either.

“How did you manage that?”

Feng Qingyang’s breathing grew slightly rapid. He seemed to realize something extraordinary—that this youngster might be a martial arts prodigy not seen in a hundred years.

“I don’t know—I just saw it!” Linghu Chong couldn’t explain it either.

“A martial arts prodigy… a martial arts prodigy!”

“Hahaha! Our Huashan Sect is about to produce a dragon!”

Feng Qingyang suddenly burst out laughing.

“Granduncle-Master Feng, are you alright?” Linghu Chong asked timidly, a little scared by Feng Qingyang’s current behavior.

“Linghu Chong, is it? Let me test again to see if it’s true.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Linghu Chong was puzzled.

But before he could figure out what was going on—

Feng Qingyang suddenly made a move—his body flickered like a ghost and in an instant was right beside Linghu Chong, striking with his fingers as if they were a sword.

Linghu Chong was caught off guard and had no choice but to engage in battle.

Feng Qingyang’s sword style was fierce, his attacks swift and unexpected, leaving Linghu Chong completely at a loss and defenseless.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you say you comprehended a sword style from the words I left behind? Where is that sword style? Show it to me!”

Feng Qingyang’s purpose was to force Linghu Chong to reveal the sword technique he had just comprehended—he himself was now deeply interested in it, because it seemed to contain profound mysteries.

Linghu Chong understood Feng Qingyang’s intention. Clearly, this trial couldn’t be avoided. Smiling, he said, “Then I shall offend you, Granduncle-Master!”

“Haha! Come!” Feng Qingyang laughed heartily.

Linghu Chong’s gaze sharpened—his aura shifted as he grew serious. Holding a three-foot-long sword, its gleam flickering, he launched a counterattack.

Feng Qingyang was amazed—Linghu Chong had gradually begun to fend off his onslaught, and at times even unleashed moves that took him by surprise.

Just as Feng Qingyang was momentarily stunned, Linghu Chong thrust upward with a sword strike, startling him into quickly dodging.

But the sweeping blade actually sliced off one of his beard hairs.

That was no small matter.

Feng Qingyang dared not be careless anymore—he began to treat the match seriously and unleashed an even fiercer barrage of attacks.

Linghu Chong retreated once more, barely managing to fend off the assault.

Their figures flickered like ghosts in the cave.

Sword gleams swept through the air, sword qi interweaving in fierce combat.

Linghu Chong fought with increasing ease.

Feng Qingyang grew increasingly alarmed—the speed at which Linghu Chong was improving far exceeded his expectations. In just this brief moment, he was already fighting him with ease.

Swish!

Feng Qingyang suddenly moved to widen the distance between them.

Linghu Chong also stopped, looking at Feng Qingyang in confusion—he had just been getting into it, why stop now?

“Granduncle-Master Feng?”

“Haha! Good lad, you’ve truly opened this old man’s eyes! In that case, let me truly go all out and see just where your limits lie!”

Feng Qingyang was excited. With a slight stomp of his right foot, his inner force vibrated the ground and launched a withered branch into the air.

He caught the branch in midair, pointed it at Linghu Chong, and smiled. “Come again!”

Linghu Chong’s eyes lit up with joy and said, “All right!”

As soon as the words left his lips, the two clashed once more.

This time, Feng Qingyang’s offensive was several times more intense than before, his techniques endlessly shifting.

Linghu Chong felt enormous pressure—Feng Qingyang’s every move seemed to preempt him, cutting off his offense.

This was the true Dugu Nine Swords—the art of predicting the enemy’s moves in advance.

Linghu Chong was delighted and began to take it seriously, eager to glean insights from Feng Qingyang’s swordplay.

But the old are still the wise—Linghu Chong lacked experience, and at the hundredth move—

Feng Qingyang’s withered branch touched the outside of Linghu Chong’s throat.

The outcome was decided.

Linghu Chong looked at Feng Qingyang, baring a big grin. “I lost, Granduncle-Master Feng!”

“You little rascal, are you mocking me?”

Feng Qingyang blew out a breath, and the whiskers at the corner of his mouth fluttered.

On the surface, he had won—but in truth, he had already lost.

Linghu Chong was clearly inexperienced in real battle, and his sword style had been cobbled together in the middle of their fight to cope with him.

Yet even so, he had exchanged blows with an old veteran like him on equal footing.

That was absurd.

What’s more, he had been forced to reveal his Dugu Nine Swords, thinking he would quickly end it—

Who knew that this brat could still learn as they fought?

In the end, to save face, he had no choice but to fight in earnest.

But this was already enough to shock anyone.

Feng Qingyang now knew—Linghu Chong was a martial prodigy rarely seen in a hundred years.

No—he was a martial prodigy rarely seen in a thousand years.

“Granduncle-Master, can we go again?”

Linghu Chong furrowed his brows and looked earnestly at Feng Qingyang. That previous bout had given him new insights.

Feng Qingyang gazed at the serious look on Linghu Chong’s face and nodded.

Seeing this, Linghu Chong’s face lit up.

In an instant, sword light burst forth once again within the cave.