A gust of wind lashed toward the back of his head, and although Ye Wen registered the surprise, he felt no panic.

For an ordinary martial artist, the focus during a tense confrontation would naturally be on guarding the direction facing the enemy, but Ye Wen, heavily influenced by countless novels and films, was quite different.

Compared to most people, Ye Wen was more accustomed to protecting his blind spots, especially his rear. Thus, when Dongfang Sheng suddenly attacked from behind him, Ye Wen didn't even need to turn around to respond; he simply channeled his Innate Violet Qi, and the Purple Heaven Net barrier field, already prepared, surged outward.

“Hm?”

Dongfang Sheng felt an immediate stiffening throughout his body, his momentum faltering involuntarily. The palm strike he had launched paused for a fraction of a second, beyond his control.

In that brief instant, a cloud of violet mist rose around Ye Wen, then transformed into streaks of razor-sharp sword energy. Every one of these energies pointed directly toward Dongfang Sheng's advancing hand. Had Dongfang Sheng failed to withdraw in time, he would have certainly left his arm behind, shredded by Ye Wen’s protective sword qi.

“Hah!”

With an exhalation, Dongfang Sheng broke free from the energy restricting his movement. He pivoted, simultaneously pulling his arm back, deftly evading the crisscrossing sword energies behind Ye Wen. He then tilted his neck slightly, letting a slightly wider-arcing energy bolt pass, though the sheer force of its passage left his face aching from the sharp wind pressure.

“Sect Master Ye’s sword qi mastery is indeed extraordinary. No wonder my father held such profound apprehension toward your skills!”

Even as Dongfang Sheng uttered these words, Ye Wen’s expression remained unchanged, and his stance didn't shift. Yet, his mind began to wander: “Apprehension?” Ye Wen’s first thought was that Dongfang Yi might be colluding with the Demonic Cult. But upon reflection, he dismissed it as overthinking. Dongfang Yi was obsessed with molding the Azure Dragon Society into one of the top sects in the Jianghu; any master standing in his way would naturally be seen as an obstacle.

Ye Wen’s Shushan Sect had risen too rapidly, its recent brilliance drawing too much attention. It was entirely plausible that some viewed them as a roadblock.

“Your father indeed holds me in high regard. Since that is the case, Brother Dongfang, allow me to show you my true capabilities!”

As the words left his mouth, Ye Wen remained perfectly still, standing by the lake’s edge, his back still facing Dongfang Sheng—as if he were chatting casually with a friend, entirely unlike someone engaged in a life-or-death battle.

Seeing Ye Wen’s demeanor, Dongfang Sheng wondered if he was genuinely confident or simply reckless. However, the fact that Ye Wen had forced his attack to retreat without even moving an inch was undeniable. Hearing this challenge, Dongfang Sheng dared not relax his guard. He immediately leaped back several yards, eager to see what trick Ye Wen was about to pull.

A faint smirk touched the corner of Ye Wen’s lips—though Dongfang Sheng, of course, could not see it. The surrounding protective sword qi continued to circle Ye Wen, growing faster and faster, until they gradually merged. After a moment, Dongfang Sheng saw only a single ribbon of purple light spinning constantly around Ye Wen; the previous dispersed violet clouds and sword streaks had completely vanished.

Puzzled, he wondered what kind of spectacle Ye Wen was staging. Then, he watched as this purple light tightened, its rotation slowing down. Moments later, Dongfang Sheng was astonished to see a longsword, entirely purple, orbiting Ye Wen slowly, almost like a living creature, bobbing up and down.

“This is…”

As the purple longsword manifested, Ye Wen slowly turned around. He raised his right hand slightly, brought his index and middle fingers together, and suddenly twisted them. The purple longsword, which had been orbiting him erratically, instantly stopped, suspended just above Ye Wen’s right shoulder. Its tip pointed steadily at Dongfang Sheng, trembling subtly—like a venomous snake poised to strike its prey.

Though standing further back, Dongfang Sheng could feel the sharp sword intent emanating from the purple longsword. Moreover, wherever the tip aimed, the corresponding spot on his body felt a faint, needle-like pressure. This sensation startled him deeply, preventing any rash movement.

Ye Wen smiled faintly. “This technique is something I only recently managed to master. You could call it a rudimentary form of Sword Control. However, this flying sword is merely formed from my True Qi, not a genuine blade… though, at this moment, it functions no differently than the real thing!”

His purple flying sword was indistinguishable from a true blade in both appearance and texture—a transformation achieved by compressing True Qi to its absolute limit. Though the sword was only the size of an ordinary longsword, condensing it this way had consumed an immense amount of Ye Wen’s True Qi. He was deliberately wasting time in conversation with Dongfang Sheng, seizing the opportunity to recover some of that spent energy.

In the span of a few sentences, Ye Wen had regained much of his internal power. His hands remained still, save for a slight tremor in the fingers held in a sword-pointing gesture. He then announced, “Brother Dongfang, I invite you to test my Sword Control technique!”

The concept of Sword Control had long been a stumbling block for Ye Wen. After all, having renamed his sect the Shushan Sect, he felt incomplete without some form of Sword Control technique. Yet, his prior method of manipulating longswords with his Purple Heaven Net force field was, at best, a type of “whip technique,” and it couldn't be used at full power without severely compromising its effectiveness.

He had considered manipulating the flying sword using principles of force fields. However, within his force field range, he could restrain an enemy by simply infusing simple, pure True Qi to bind them. To manipulate a flying sword as flexibly as true Sword Control would require an energy expenditure that was simply terrifying—constantly adjusting the airflow and energy dynamics around the sword: flicking, slicing, speeding up, or slowing down.

He had consequently abandoned that idea until his power grew strong enough to condense a sword of purple energy virtually identical to a real blade. Since this purple sword was an extension of his own True Qi, controlling it was second nature. Furthermore, having mastered his force field techniques, he could establish a link with this purple sword within a certain radius, thus satisfying the fundamental conditions for sword mastery.

More importantly, because the purple sword was formed from Ye Wen’s True Qi, its destructive power was self-evident.

The only regret was that although the purple sword was infinitesimally close to a real blade—and perhaps even more potent—it was still not the genuine article. This Sword Control was, ultimately, a knock-off product.

“Still better than the previous useless version!”

Regardless, the technique now possessed the capability to kill. Although this was the first time Ye Wen had used this profound skill in combat, he possessed absolute confidence in it.

“Brother Dongfang, be careful!”

The moment Ye Wen finished speaking, the purple sword vanished. As Dongfang Sheng watched in shock, he felt a sharp burst of sword qi descending from above. He immediately sprang sideways, but before he could even check the situation behind him, he felt a searing sensation on his back. Forgetting all pretense, he desperately flipped his body in mid-air and twisted violently. As soon as he completed this maneuver, he saw a streak of purple light flash past his side, shooting out in front of him.

Now he could see clearly. After whipping past him, the purple light didn't travel far before carving a very distinct semicircle in the air, turning its tip around and charging back toward him.

Dongfang Sheng was horrified. Is this Ye Wen’s signature move? It’s incredibly potent!

His light-foot skill was formidable, allowing him to weave and turn freely, even altering his trajectory mid-air—such as suddenly ascending while continuing to glide forward, just as he was doing now.

But no matter how agile his movements were, they could not match the subtle speed and nimbleness of Ye Wen’s purple sword. The sword acted like a living thing; once it locked onto a vital point on Dongfang Sheng’s body, it zipped forward. Even if it missed a killing blow, the sword constantly unleashed powerful sword qi during its flight—a mere graze was enough to inflict injury.

Dongfang Sheng was forced to dodge the sword while simultaneously evading its accompanying attacks and the raw sword qi it projected. With his mind completely focused on defense, he temporarily forgot about Ye Wen himself.

When he realized that no matter how agile he was, he could never outmaneuver a flying sword, and that engaging in a battle of movement techniques was suicidal, he decided the sensible course was to strike down the person controlling it. He spun around and charged directly at Ye Wen. Unexpectedly, the purple sword seemed to anticipate this move. As soon as he turned, he found the sword suspended a short distance in front of him, vibrating faintly, as if the slightest move on his part would result in seven or eight large holes being poked into him.

Looking past the sword, he saw Ye Wen still standing in that same relaxed posture. If previously he had been holding his right hand up in a few slight sword-finger poses, now he seemed too lazy even for those minor gestures. He even rested his hands behind his back, merely standing still and gazing at Dongfang Sheng from a distance.

“What does Brother Dongfang think of my Sword Control?”

Dongfang Sheng glanced at Ye Wen, then at the purple sword, and suddenly gave a bright, soft laugh. “Truly a marvelous skill. I cannot cope with it…”

As he spoke, his figure blurred instantly, as if vanishing into thin air. Ye Wen knew this wasn't true disappearance, but rather Dongfang Sheng pushing his movement skill to its absolute limit, moving so fast that it left an afterimage in Ye Wen’s eyes, creating the illusion of sudden vanishing.

But Ye Wen was unconcerned. Instead, he called out, “My skill has one final killing move. I invite Brother Dongfang to give me some pointers on this move!”

Saying this, he made no further motions. Instead, his expression suddenly hardened, his eyes becoming piercingly sharp. The purple sword suspended in the air froze, ceasing its tremor, and then suddenly detonated.

This purple sword, formed from the condensation of most of Ye Wen’s True Qi, exploded violently. The countless sword energies contained within erupted simultaneously. In that small clearing, dozens, perhaps hundreds, of purple sword qi streaks burst forth in random directions, wreaking havoc upon the normally serene lakeside area. Numerous towering trees, struck by several bursts of sword qi, were reduced to bare trunks.

If unlucky, trees were sliced clean in half, and as they fell, they were further scythed by more sword qi, instantly disintegrating into countless pieces that clattered onto the ground. Even the calm surface of the pool was disturbed, rippling wildly, and countless innocent fish met an untimely end, pierced through by the energy bolts.

This eruption of sword qi lasted for only a brief moment. The purple sword, formed from the bulk of Ye Wen’s power, ceased to exist. Where the sword had been, a figure sat slumped on the ground in a pathetic state: it was Dongfang Sheng, who had supposedly vanished. It turned out that Dongfang Sheng had unleashed his utmost power to try and evade the sword, never expecting Ye Wen to pull a stunt like this. Just as he reached the sword, it exploded, unleashing innumerable sword energies.

If Dongfang Sheng’s light-foot technique hadn't been peerless, allowing him to dodge the vast majority of the energy bolts, he would have been dead long ago—perhaps even his corpse would not have remained intact.

Dongfang Sheng was a wreck of his former self. The hair knot on his head had been undone, his long, dark hair hanging loose and disheveled. His face was deathly pale, as if still recovering from the terrifying spectacle. His long robe was tattered beyond repair, barely clinging to his body, revealing glimpses of his fair skin which faintly reflected the moonlight. With his torn clothes, if he stood up, the remaining fabric would likely crumble into scraps instantly, a situation that could be described as far beyond mere public indecency—it bordered on total exposure.

His legs, angled slightly to the side, looked even more pitiful. The trouser legs had been shredded by the sword qi, leaving his slender, jade-like calves completely exposed. However, a sword gash on his right calf, deep enough to expose bone and still bleeding profusely, was enough to cause anyone watching to gasp in horror. No matter how supreme his light-foot skill, Dongfang Sheng could only save his life; escaping unscathed was simply impossible.

After a few ragged breaths, a flicker of fear appeared in Dongfang Sheng’s eyes, yet he managed to speak, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

He wasn't a fool; he clearly understood that Ye Wen had held back in that final strike. Otherwise, given the sheer volume of sword qi, if the eruption had been even slightly denser, his unparalleled movement skill would have been useless. In that scenario, unless he possessed an impenetrable body-guarding technique to withstand the impact, there would have been no option to dodge; he would have had to meet the attack head-on.

Ye Wen scratched his cheek. “Perhaps I should say, killing you would bring me a great deal of trouble!” He deliberately withheld the real reason: he hadn't sensed any killing intent from Dongfang Sheng; his aggression seemed more like a calculated maneuver to force Ye Wen to kill him.

Every time he thought of this, Ye Wen wanted to curse: If you want to commit suicide, can’t you find a secluded place to do it yourself?

Dongfang Sheng didn’t answer. He assumed Ye Wen spared him because of his father’s influence, but this thought only irritated him further. Just as he was about to speak, he saw Ye Wen remove his own dark-violet outer robe and toss it casually onto him. Ye Wen then turned and walked away without another word.

Nursing his still-bleeding calf, Dongfang Sheng sat stunned by the lakeside, watching Ye Wen disappear from sight.

As for Ye Wen, having walked a safe distance, he glanced back covertly. Seeing that Dongfang Sheng was not following, he sighed softly, “Ugh, why did I run into this sort of mess?” Then he muttered, “Both Venerable Huixin and Senior Yuqingzi said that anyone practicing the Phoenix Nirvana Art goes mad. I was skeptical before, but now it seems they weren't exaggerating!”

Thinking it over, every transformation in the Phoenix Nirvana Art required enduring endless torment, which was then infinitely magnified and prolonged in dreams. For example, a certain one-eyed master might be placed in a dreamscape by another red-eyed patient and then stabbed repeatedly for what felt like an eternity, even though only an instant passed in reality. Practicing the Phoenix Nirvana Art required enduring a full seven days of this agony just for the first transformation—and that was only the first stage!

“If someone can master this skill without losing their mind, their state of mind must become incredibly resilient,” Ye Wen mused.

He recalled the concept of ‘state of mind’ often mentioned in novels. In Ye Wen's view, this state of mind was forged through repeated trials. The seeming death of the Phoenix Nirvana Art didn't just allow one to be reborn; it tempered the practitioner’s very essence. Once the state of mind reached its apex, one could be completely unaffected by external forces. Combined with supreme martial prowess, this indeed made one virtually invincible under heaven.

“Amitabha, Sect Master Ye speaks the truth!”

He had been muttering to himself when a low Buddhist chant suddenly sounded beside him. Simultaneously, a figure emerged from behind a nearby tree—it was none other than Chan Master Huixin.

“Sect Master Ye, why did you not strike him down just now?”

Ye Wen jumped slightly when the Chan Master appeared, but then he immediately understood: the old monk had likely detected someone eavesdropping from the roof. That was why, upon leaving Yuqingzi’s room, he had separated from Ye Wen—likely intending to draw out the eavesdropper.

The reality was close. When Chan Master Huixin realized someone was listening, he deliberately bid farewell, hoping to discover the eavesdropper's intentions. Later, realizing the person was Dongfang Sheng, he grew worried. When he saw Dongfang Sheng lead Ye Wen into the woods and engage him in combat, his anxiety intensified. Although the monk could tell Dongfang Sheng held no intention of killing Ye Wen, he feared Ye Wen might strike too heavily and kill him outright.

Fortunately, Ye Wen unleashed the miraculous Sword Control technique, overwhelming Dongfang Sheng and severely wounding him. At that point, the old monk had considered intervening to save Dongfang Sheng, fearing his death would stir up further trouble with the Azure Dragon Society. At a time when righteous factions needed to unite against the Demonic Cult, creating further conflict was ill-advised.

Since Ye Wen clearly showed no intention of killing Dongfang Sheng, the old monk watched for a moment longer. Seeing that Dongfang Sheng was not fatally injured, he followed.

Though he didn't voice these considerations to Ye Wen, the latter quickly deduced the general sequence of events. Hearing Chan Master Huixin’s question, Ye Wen laughed, “If I had been intent on killing him then, Master would have stepped in to stop me, wouldn't you?”

Chan Master Huixin smiled but offered no reply. Ye Wen understood this as the old monk’s way of avoiding a falsehood, confirming that he would indeed have intervened.

Ye Wen didn't mind. In fact, he was pleased to see Huixin. “Let us leave those matters aside for now, Master has arrived at a perfect time! Could you perhaps guide me? I seem to have misplaced the way back.”

“Heh heh, Sect Master Ye, please follow this humble monk this way!”

………………

PS: Oh my, it’s so late? Also, you all are getting increasingly wicked.