Chapter 11 |
"Xie Li greets Senior Brother Lin, Senior Brother Chen."
Xie Li was no more than fifteen or sixteen, yet she carried herself with the poise of someone far older. She executed a precise fist-and-palm salute, movements deliberate and practiced.
The two returned the gesture.
Xie Li smiled faintly and continued.
"In actual combat, the Clear Wind Sword Technique is a cut above the Nine-Section Swift Sword. Its complexity runs far deeper. Once executed, both movement speed and draw speed increase drastically. The sensation is like a breeze brushing past your face—before you register it, you've already lost."
"So as long as one masters the Clear Wind Sword Technique, their strength skyrockets?" Chen Zhishen couldn't suppress the question.
"Precisely. This holds true across much of the martial path. The powerful techniques are all top-tier arts, but top-tier arts are beyond ordinary reach. Once mastered, however, a chasm opens between you and those practicing common techniques," Xie Li explained.
"But wouldn't executing a superior martial art place greater strain on the body?" Lin Hui frowned.
"Superior martial arts include their own advanced body-tempering methods—effects far surpass anything else. How could the burden be heavier? On the contrary, if one masters a superior art and then reverts to a lesser technique, a body tempered to such extremes can unleash power far beyond what ordinary martial artists achieve with any random style," Xie Li said, knowledge evident in her tone.
"Correct. To be taught the technique requires not only the trust of the teachers, but exceptional talent," Xie Li nodded. "That's why the Temple Master came in person."
"Meaning Huang Shan and the others might have been noticed by the Temple Master and accepted as true direct disciples?" Chen Zhishen's tone carried an envy he couldn't quite conceal.
"Precisely. Geniuses, after all..." Xie Li trailed off, a flicker of unusual sentiment crossing her face.
Judging by her speech, she came from a family with scholarly or martial heritage. Yet even so, in contests of pure aptitude, background meant nothing. Either you had it, or you didn't.
By this time, a fresh round of sword matches between the core disciples had begun in the clearing. Wu Cheng, the disciple in question, had mastered several techniques from the Clear Wind Sword Method. He unleashed them at decisive moments, effortlessly overcoming his opponents each time.
For a time, he drew frequent gazes, gradually gathering attention.
Watching the triumphant Wu Cheng on the field, Lin Hui sank into thought. If, as Xie Li said, strength was divided strictly by the martial arts one mastered, then control over superior techniques would lock the channel of upward mobility firmly in the hands of the previous generation.
In such times—assuming the talent gap wasn't overwhelmingly vast—perhaps connections and networks mattered more.
Following Wu Cheng's display, other disciples took the stage and revealed their grasp of the Clear Wind Sword Technique. However, due to inferior proficiency, they were swiftly defeated and sent off.
Within the Clear Wind Temple, mastering the Clear Wind Sword Technique was itself a chasm separating one from the rest.
The subsequent matches proved this fully. Among the twenty disciples, the top five senior brothers and sisters who appeared in the final rounds had all mastered the Clear Wind Sword Technique.
Among them, the First Senior Brother, Second Senior Brother, and First Senior Sister had even mastered the full set of the Clear Wind Sword. Observing carefully, however, Lin Hui noted that although they wielded the same technique, the temperament and presence they projected when executing it differed vastly.
Clearly, even with the same Clear Wind Sword, disparities in level and realm of attainment existed.
Soon—in less than two hours—the internal ranking largely concluded. The hierarchy of the top five hadn't shifted much; the First Senior Brother remained strongest at number one, the rest following in order.
But starting from the sixth rank, the power structure had changed.
Wu Cheng had shot upward, seizing the sixth position. Behind him came the two newly promoted geniuses, Qiu Yiren and Huang Shan. The pair had forcibly displaced the previous seventh and eighth rankers, becoming the new focal points.
When it ended and the crowd dispersed, the outer disciples and students who had watched were visibly excited. Even as they left, they continued discussing the foundations and attainments of the twenty core disciples.
Lin Hui's mood remained calm. He returned to his quarters to practice the Seven-Section Swift Sword as usual, as if the earlier ranking had no impact on him whatsoever.
In the interim, Xie Li dragged Chen Zhishen along to invite him out to hunt wild game and roast it—an attempt at building rapport—but he gently declined.
The two went on their own.
Xie Li was clearly trying to get close to him; seeking out Chen Zhishen was merely a pretext.
But Lin Hui had no interest in meaningless social interaction. His greatest interest now was staring at his Blood Seal every day, calculating how many days remained on the evolution timer.
The ability to grow stronger just by existing was undoubtedly powerful. The only aspect that left Lin Hui helpless was the speed—or lack thereof.
And so, every few days, Xie Li would drag Chen Zhishen along and run over to invite Lin Hui once more. After several unsuccessful attempts, the two simply hunted game and brought it to Lin Hui's quarters to eat together.
Lin Hui didn't mind. With someone delivering food to his door—and even cooking it—he was naturally happy to improve his diet.
As time passed, the three slowly formed a small circle within the temple.
Under Xie Li's influence, Chen Zhishen seemed to gradually walk out of the painful emotions surrounding Lu Baihua. There even appeared to be a faint, strange spark forming between the two.
In the blink of an eye, Lin Hui's fourth move finished evolving completely, followed by the fifth.
The steadily approaching Great Accomplishment of the Seven-Section Swift Sword stirred anticipation in Lin Hui's heart.
He looked forward to seeing how his perfect, error-free version of the Seven-Section Swift Sword would differ from other disciples in terms of body tempering and lightness effects.
In a flash, several more days passed.
Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock!
Early in the morning, just as the sky brightened, Lin Hui began his sword practice. He had barely completed two routines when a rush of urgent knocking echoed from outside.
The single room he occupied had a small courtyard outside for drying clothes and catching the sun, separated by its own gate.
It was this dark brown gate that was being pounded on now.
"Who is it?"
Lin Hui called out.
"It's me, Junior Brother Lin!" Huishen's voice came, tight with urgency. "Open the door, quick! Something happened at your home!"
Something happened at home!?
Lin Hui's heart lurched. He immediately dropped the wooden sword, rushed to the gate, and threw it open.
Outside, Huishen's forehead was slick with sweat, his expression grave—clearly he'd sprinted the entire way. Upon seeing Lin Hui, he immediately lowered his voice.
"A servant from your family ran over to deliver a message! She said your father's affairs have been exposed! A lot of people went over, and they've almost emptied your house!"
"Help me request leave!" Lin Hui didn't waste a second. Dropping that single sentence, he bolted out of the courtyard, rushing toward the temple exit.
Although he hadn't yet received the body-tempering effects, long-term exercise had strengthened his constitution significantly.
Just as he ran through the main gate, he spotted Sister Luo, who worked for his family, standing outside with a pallid face. Two gatekeeping Daoist boys blocked her entry.
Lin Hui charged over in a few strides.
"What exactly happened!?" he demanded, voice low and hard.
"Before the Master left, he told me to call you. He said Don't panic—he'll be back very soon!" Sister Luo spoke rapidly.
"Let's go. We'll talk on the way back!" Lin Hui's face was grim as he strode quickly toward home.
More than an hour later, Lin Hui returned to his front door.
The courtyard gate stood wide open, as did the doors to the inner rooms. Several burly men were moving belongings from inside to outside.
"What are you doing!?" Lin Hui steadied his breathing and stepped forward, voice sharp.
"This family owes a large sum. The owner sent us to take goods to offset the debt! How should I address you, brother?" The leader walked over, holding a strip of dry, brown meat, stuffing it into his mouth as he chewed and spoke.
"Did you make a mistake somewhere!?" Lin Hui stepped through the gate and entered the house, discovering it had been almost completely emptied. His mother, Yao Shan, eyes red and swollen, walked out slowly, seeming to have heard the commotion.
"Mom!" Lin Hui hurried forward to support her.
"A-Hui... your father, he..." Yao Shan grabbed Lin Hui's arm, her voice choked with sobs. "I told him not to take risks, but he just wouldn't listen... now... now..."
"Don't panic yet! How is my father? Where is he!?" Lin Hui asked quickly.
"The Noble considered his many years of service and comprehensive work, so he let him off the hook... He's fine. He just went to another town to verify the family's other assets." Yao Shan wept softly.
Only then did Lin Hui breathe a sigh of relief. Casting his eyes over the now nearly empty home, his mood was less anxious than before.
This confirmed his earlier worries. Now that the event had actually occurred, the heavy weight in his heart finally dropped.
"It's fine. It's fine. I've started working and earning money now. At worst, the family starts over from scratch. It doesn't matter," he gently comforted his mother.
"I'm fine, it's just... you'll have to suffer, A-Hui..." Yao Shan looked at the home—which had only recently improved—now empty once again. That blow, a second painful blow, caused her spirit to nearly collapse entirely.
At this moment, she could only grip her son's arm tightly, trembling all over, her face seeming to age significantly in an instant.
Lin Hui stood quietly, watching the men move the furniture. The burly man who had spoken earlier came in, saw the scene, and—realizing Lin Hui was the young master of the house—offered an apologetic smile.
It wasn't until the afternoon, when the moving was finished, that his father, Lin Shunhe, finally arrived.
His face looked aged, clothes were somewhat disheveled. Entering the courtyard gate and seeing his wife and son there, he didn't say a word. He simply lowered his head and went into the inner room.
Lin Hui said nothing. He knew his father was suffering enough. The loss of family wealth was one thing; the true, utter loss of the Nobles' protection was the greatest casualty.
From now on, separated from the favor of the powerful, the only ones they could rely on were themselves.
….
The Lin Family.
Lin Chaoyi once again summoned representatives of the various branches for an emergency family meeting.
Looking at the oppressive atmosphere in the room, he took the pipe from his mouth and tapped it gently against the small table beside him.
Knock, knock.
The crisp sound drew everyone's gaze.
"You all know about Shunhe's family matters, right?" he announced loudly.
The group fell silent for a moment before nodding successively.
"Since you know—those of you who were close to him in the past—don't extend a hand. No one is allowed to help. Lending money or anything of the sort—not a single coin is permitted!" Lin Chaoyi first set the tone with harsh words.
Then, seeing the unnatural expression on the first branch, he softened his tone slightly.
"It's not that I, as a father, lack sentiment. But firstly, Old Fourth said long ago he was cutting ties. Secondly, he caused a major disaster this time. He angered that Noble. This is no small matter. Once we step in to help, if we're perceived as having any connection with him, it will be too late for regrets!"
He sighed again.
"Don't blame me for being cruel. I do this for the entire Lin family. During this period, ever since Hongzhen of the first branch successfully received the Call, you've all felt our family's prestige, momentum, and influence. Whatever we do, people give us face. Even the officials in town who are usually difficult have softened their expressions considerably."
"Therefore, our Lin family is currently in a rising phase. We absolutely cannot be dragged down by Old Fourth! This is a major opportunity we've waited many years for. Once the first branch stands firm in the Inner City, our Lin family might well become a great clan like the Zhong family or the Mu family in the neighboring towns."
"But Father... isn't this a bit too..." Lin Hongzhen's father, Lin Shunjiang of the first branch, couldn't help but speak up
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