“How is this possible?” Nangong Yun looked utterly incredulous, genuinely unable to fathom how his sister could have been defeated in the blink of an eye, not only having her weapon ruined but also being subdued so easily.

He had been distracted, his eyes darting nervously toward the group opposite, fearful of a coordinated attack, and thus had completely missed the events concerning his sister. He had no idea how it had happened.

Though he missed it, others saw it clearly. As Nangong Zixin’s soft sword reached Xu Ping, he saw Xu Ping’s longsword and long saber move in a swift curl, followed by a sharp twist. This technique was not a standard move from any known sword or saber manual; it was a variation Ye Wen had adapted from the Golden Serpent Sword Style.

Liu Muyan could use her iron hooks to twist and disarm an opponent this way, and Ye Wen had later taught it to Xu Ping. Because Xu Ping wielded two weapons, he could barely achieve a similar effect when the coordination was just right, though it demanded a specific level of internal energy.

Against anyone else, Xu Ping wouldn't dare use this move so readily. But against Nangong Zixin, this clearly less capable young woman, Xu Ping felt no need for politeness. He directly leveraged his superior internal energy and weapon advantage to shatter Nangong Zixin’s soft sword.

His long saber smoothly followed the momentum, instantly locking against Nangong Zixin’s neck just as her weapon flew from her grasp. Everything happened in that brief instant. Thus, even though Nangong Yun had only been momentarily distracted, upon turning back, he was confronted with this exact scene.

Ye Wen showed no surprise. The moment Nangong Zixin attacked, he realized her martial arts skill was mediocre. While her swordsmanship was refined, its effectiveness depended entirely on the user. Clearly, this girl couldn't unleash the true power of that sword style. Therefore, Xu Ping effortlessly subduing her was entirely within his expectations.

He remained seated, calmly sipping his tea, showing no concern whatsoever. Onlookers interpreted this as profound confidence in his disciple's ability. Yet, no one dared label Ye Wen as arrogant, because the reality was laid bare: Xu Ping had captured Nangong Zixin, who moments before had been aggressively threatening to cut out his tongue, in a single move.

“Release the Young Miss!”

But the matter was far from over. After Nangong Zixin was captured, the three servants who had been standing silently behind her suddenly roared and rushed forward simultaneously.

Their shouting and leaping were almost one seamless action. Just from the sheer force of their spirited, soul-shaking cry, it was evident these three were no ordinary men. Even Ye Wen was startled: “No wonder this brother and sister pair possess such arrogance… the Nangong family is indeed extraordinary… even their mere servants possess such cultivation!”

It was only a momentary shock, however; it wasn't enough to compel him to act. Although the three servants rushed past him, Ye Wen felt no urge to intervene.

“The lineage of Sect Leader Ye indeed boasts an abundance of talent!” Guo Nu had already discerned that Ye Wen had no intention of acting, likely intending to let his disciples display their prowess to showcase the might of the Shushan Sect to the surrounding crowd.

Glancing sideways, the assembled martial artists now recognized that the instigators belonged to the Nangong Clan, and the Shushan Sect dared to oppose them—this courage earned Ye Wen their admiration. Of course, had Xu Ping failed to block Nangong Zixin’s sword strike, it wouldn't have been courage, but sheer ignorance.

At this point, the three Nangong family servants lunged together—one employing a palm strike, one a fist, and one a claw. Though their techniques differed, all were viciously lethal, aiming for the vital points on Xu Ping’s left, center, and right flanks. If any single attack landed undefended, he would likely be crippled on the spot.

Xu Ping was also alarmed and immediately prepared to swing his long saber to force them back. However, doing so would allow Nangong Zixin to escape. There was no helping it; though he was displeased, dealing with the immediate threat was paramount.

Just as he was about to draw his blade, a gentle cough sounded nearby: “Ahem! A few mere servants dare to demand someone from my Shushan Sect? You must greatly underestimate us!”

Before the words fully dropped, a figure shot out like an arrow, instantly fragmenting into three shadows that lunged toward the three servants. These three identical figures simultaneously unleashed their longswords, striking out countless times in a mere instant, weaving a dense canopy of sword shadows that enveloped the trio.

The three servants, confident that their combined attack would rescue the Young Miss, never expected another person to emerge. This sheer torrent of sword light alone was enough to intimidate countless others.

However, despite being servants, their martial knowledge was sharp. They perceived that most of the myriad sword shadows were feints, with very few actual, solid strikes. The one using the palm strike shouted, “It’s all bluffing and empty moves, don’t panic!”

Yet, before the words died down, a sword shadow he had dismissed as a feint struck his chest. A sharp pain immediately flared, and he was violently thrown backward, losing control of his body.

With a loud thud, he smashed through a table. Two more thuds sounded beside him. Looking left and right, he saw the other two had been similarly propelled backward.

Clutching his chest, he sat up and looked toward the opposing side. He noticed the young man who had coughed lightly was still standing perfectly still, his longsword resting securely in its scabbard, as if it had never been drawn.

“Did I… was I not struck by the longsword just now?”

Confused, he ripped open his chest garment and was stunned to find a perfectly clear imprint of a longsword lying across his chest. It was evident that the attacker had spared their lives, striking only with the flat of the blade to send them flying, rather than plunging the steel into their hearts.

Looking to his sides, the other two men were staring at their own chests, seeing identical marks, positioned precisely the same way. Recalling the sword technique that had surrounded him like ten thousand phantoms, cold sweat broke out on their foreheads.

The three men stood up, clasped their fists toward the opposition to thank the attacker for showing mercy, and then shamefacedly retreated behind Nangong Yun, remaining silent thereafter.

They now understood that this situation was beyond the capabilities of just the three of them.

Ye Wen sat nearby, a faint smile gracing his face, appearing utterly calm. Inwardly, he mused: “My junior brother has applied the Thirteen Cloud Mist Forms of a Hundred Changes to such a profound degree; it truly is astonishing! This sword style, with its seamless blend of reality and illusion, is indeed tricky to handle. If my cultivation weren't slightly superior to my junior brother’s, I might not have understood what just transpired…”

While Ye Wen was only mildly surprised, Guo Nu looked as if he’d seen a ghost: “Xu Xian’s swordsmanship has reached such a terrifying level? While I might not fear such unpredictable shifts between real and illusory attacks, Elder Pei and Elder Hua might not weather it easily.”

He thought this, yet Guo Nu didn't dare claim he could definitely handle Xu Xian. Although Xu Xian’s sword style seemed to emphasize the interplay of real and fake, its lethality still relied on the physical sword. But what if his internal energy was so refined that he could shatter Guo Nu's protective energy with a single blade?

In summary, Xu Xian’s skill was at least equal to his own, and his ultimate potential was unknown. The three Nangong family servants had merely allowed Xu Xian to demonstrate a tiny fraction of his capabilities.

The relative composure of the two leaders stemmed from their high cultivation; the myriad illusions generated by Xu Xian’s swordplay had no effect on them.

But the surrounding crowd saw things differently. Many only witnessed a single figure dart out, suddenly multiplying into three, weaving a tapestry of sword shadows, only for the three servants to be violently thrown back mid-air and crash to the ground. Looking again, all the spectral figures vanished, and the person who seemed to be wielding the sword remained perfectly still, as if he had never moved.

The crowd even wondered if they had imagined it, perhaps the three had been struck by hidden projectiles? Then, a few sharp-eyed individuals noticed the distinct markings on the ground before the three servants, realizing they had been struck away by a sword blade.

“This… is this even martial arts?” Those with shallow knowledge muttered about sorcery, wondering how such bizarre phenomena could occur otherwise.

Those with some insight, or slightly higher cultivation, tried to show off: “You don’t understand! That master’s Qinggong [Lightness Skill] is pushed to the absolute limit, his movement so fast it creates such an illusion! I once saw the venerable Ling Xuzi in action; when he moved, there were rings of figures, impossible to tell which was real and which was fake—that was truly astonishing…”

“Wow… Venerable Ling Xuzi… so this young lady is a master on par with Venerable Ling Xuzi?”

“What young lady? That’s a strikingly handsome young man!”

“No way? I was hoping I’d finally found my dream partner…”

“Someone like you? Even if she were a young lady, she wouldn’t spare you a glance!”

“Can’t I even indulge in a little daydreaming?”

Amidst the clamor, everyone discussed Xu Xian’s dazzling performance. Even Nangong Yun kept turning his gaze toward him.

In truth, Xu Xian had captured his attention the moment he appeared. Initially, Nangong Yun had also assumed Xu Xian was an exceptionally beautiful woman and was momentarily stunned, wondering if he should show the Shushan Sect some leniency for future considerations.

But then his sister whispered, “Such a handsome young man!” and he realized it was a man. He inwardly scoffed, “Why would a grown man be so pretty?” His intention shifted to finding an opportunity to teach this fellow a lesson.

However, after witnessing Xu Xian’s swordplay, the thought of teaching him a lesson had long since evaporated. He had seen the same thing as the crowd outside: only a flurry of sword shadows, unable to discern the real from the illusory.

In reality, just like his servants behind him, he initially believed he had figured out the truth—that the myriad sword shadows were all feints—only to be shocked when a supposedly 'feigned' strike repelled them. He assumed he hadn't seen clearly, unaware that Xu Xian’s sword style, when mastered deeply, allowed for effortless switching between real and illusory forms, and given Xu Xian’s high cultivation, he could naturally exert even greater power, leading to the misunderstanding.

But given the current situation, he had no choice but to step forward. His younger sister was captured, and his servants defeated. If he merely offered some token platitudes, what face would the Nangong family have left?

He casually drew a soft sword from behind his back. With a flick of his wrist, the once limp blade instantly straightened, becoming as rigid as any ordinary longsword.

However, he had now discarded his arrogant demeanor. He cupped his hands toward the Shushan contingent: “I misjudged the situation and have caused offense. Allow me to offer my apologies to everyone in your esteemed sect first! However, this matter cannot simply end here. I dare to request one master from the Shushan Sect to step forward and exchange pointers!”

He knew that he stood little chance against Ye Wen, the Sect Leader, and likely wouldn't fare well against even the disciples. Thus, he kept his words measured, asking only for someone to spar with him to perhaps regain a modicum of face.

Hearing this, Ye Wen set down his tea cup and addressed the assembled group: “Ning’er, since Young Master Nangong wishes for an exchange, you should not miss this opportunity!”

“Yes, Master!”

When Yue Ning first stood there, his appearance was not overtly youthful, leading many to estimate his age at eighteen or nineteen. But the moment he spoke, his voice—stuck in the awkward register of puberty—immediately revealed him to be clearly only fourteen or fifteen. Had the Shushan Sect truly become so reckless?

Nangong Yun’s expression shifted. Although his martial arts weren't top-tier, he belonged to the Nangong Clan. He had already lowered his stance, yet the Shushan Sect still acted so brazenly. Did they truly wish to become enemies with the Nangong family?

Ye Wen realized Yue Ning’s appearance would cause misunderstanding, sensing it from Guo Nu’s subtle change in expression. So, after addressing Yue Ning, he spoke clearly for Nangong Yun: “This is my eldest disciple, Yue Ning. He has been with me the longest and has learned the most. I invite Young Master Nangong to offer his guidance!”

Although these words were not directed solely at Nangong Yun, they provided him a necessary path to retreat gracefully. Regardless, the title of Eldest Sect Disciple, coupled with Ye Wen stating this disciple had been with him the longest, suggested considerable skill. It was not a total insult.

In the martial world, where status and cultivation outweigh age, age became less relevant. With such a title preceding him, Nangong Yun no longer felt the Shushan Sect was deliberately humiliating him; rather, he felt they had offered him a dignified way out. Following martial tradition, he executed a full bow and said, “Young Master Yue, please!”

Yue Ning strode forward, his longsword ringing as he drew it. He adopted a stance, pointing his sword toward Nangong Yun from a distance—a silent signal that he would not press for the first move, refusing to take advantage of Nangong Yun. “Please…”

Setting aside Yue Ning’s actual age, his bearing was truly admirable. Many onlookers quietly remarked, “Worthy of being the Sect Leader’s Eldest Disciple—such composure is remarkable!”

The two adopted their fighting stances; it didn't matter who struck first. Nangong Yun’s sword style favored unpredictable shifts and lightning speed; standing rigidly was contrary to his art. Thus, after only a moment, he unleashed his lifetime of learning against Yue Ning.

Yue Ning responded calmly, slowly deploying the Quanzhen Sword Style. This style possessed a steady, profound demeanor, and having practiced it for so long, Yue Ning had grasped a subtle essence within it. As he executed the moves, Nangong Yun found himself utterly incapable of breaking through, unable to advance for the moment.

As the two fought, Nangong Yun darted left and right, his soft sword weaving like a viper striking, attacking angles and directions that astonished the spectators. Many onlookers conceded that if they faced him, they likely wouldn’t survive ten moves before being pierced by that soft blade.

Yet, this style proved useless against Yue Ning. Yue Ning utilized the exquisite maneuvers of the Quanzhen Sword Style one by one, perfectly countering Nangong Yun’s myriad unpredictable killing blows. Occasionally, Yue Ning would manage a thrust, forcing Nangong Yun back several steps, earning a crucial moment to breathe.

However, Yue Ning was, after all, young. Though naturally steady, he lacked the true patience of an adult. Seeing Nangong Yun unable to make headway against him, his heart grew restless, and his sword strokes became increasingly fierce. Spotting an opening, he executed the “One Sword Manifests Three Clears” technique.

Yue Ning shook his longsword, and one blade seemed to split into three, thrusting toward Nangong Yun. This move was undeniably brilliant; even Ye Wen, at Yue Ning’s current cultivation level, couldn't execute it so beautifully. Unfortunately, Yue Ning was slightly too eager, allowing Nangong Yun to spot the opening and dodge just in time.

Yue Ning cursed his luck internally. If he had held back slightly longer, waiting for Nangong Yun to advance further, this move would have secured victory. Now that his opponent was alert, winning with the same technique would be difficult.

His mind raced, and his swordplay shifted. He reversed his grip and suddenly employed the pressure-point striking technique belonging to Liu Muyan. Having spent much time with Liu Muyan and instructed him in foundational skills, Yue Ning had often been consulted by his Fourth Junior Brother on difficult points. Over time, he had learned a few of Liu Muyan’s maneuvers. Using his longsword, the imitation was passable and certainly potent.

Nangong Yun, initially startled by Yue Ning’s “One Sword Manifests Three Clears” and relieved he hadn't been stabbed, simultaneously recognized the young man's inexperience. He planned to press the attack hard, forcing an error that would lead to victory. However, the sword technique in Yue Ning’s right hand suddenly changed, focusing entirely on striking his vital points.

“What sword style is this?”

After trading blows for a while, Nangong Yun finally realized this entire sequence consisted of stabbing thrusts, many involving wrist rotations that were definitely not inherent to standard sword techniques. Having traveled widely, he possessed some knowledge, and after a moment, he identified it as the Iron Pen methodology.

“How extensive are the skills of this Shushan Sect?”

When Xu Ping subdued his sister using saber and sword, Nangong Yun had assumed he was an experienced master who had defected to Shushan. Seeing Xu Xian’s exquisite swordsmanship, and noting that most Shushan members carried longswords, along with Ye Wen’s title of the Gentleman Sword, he had concluded this was a sect dedicated primarily to sword arts. Who knew they also possessed the techniques of the Judge’s Brush?

He was unaware that if someone had brought a spear, Ye Wen could have introduced him to the splendor of the Tang Family’s Overlord Spear style! But there was no need to let Nangong Yun know everything. Furthermore, Nangong Yun was currently flustered by Yue Ning’s implementation of the Judge’s Brush style, nearly getting several major acupoints struck.

Having barely adapted, Nangong Yun thought Yue Ning had exhausted his tricks. Just as he was about to counter-slash, turning the tide, he suddenly saw Yue Ning swing his longsword, tuck it behind his back, and his left hand suddenly glowed a deep purple as he struck out, shouting, “Behold my Palm!”

He was using Ye Wen’s adaptation of the Buddha’s Radiant Illumination—the move known as “Purple Qi Comes from the East”—combined with his own newly proficient Purple Haze Skill. This palm strike genuinely carried a semblance of purple energy.

Nangong Yun stood his ground, feeling the rushing wind of the strike wash over his face. Even before the palm made contact, its powerful gust made him contemplate retreating!………………