Chapter Eighty-One: Inner Truth of Cinnabar, Outer Radiance of Golden Edge

  "What a joke! My purpose for coming here is to find you, Bi Chu, and see what you're capable of. You're so arrogant and overbearing! Do you want me to kneel down and admit my mistake? Wang Chan, why don't you come up and try yourself? Let's see if the ancient sword in Song's hand is just for show!"

  Upon hearing Wang Chan's words, Song Jie was the first to feel the unusual aura emanating from Wang Chan's body. His facial expression suddenly froze, and while speaking, he slowly opened his sword sheath with an extremely solemn tone, revealing a three-foot-seven-inch-long "Ancient Sword" with a green shark skin scabbard inside.

  "I don't know what kind of weapon you like to use? I've heard that you, like Lei Ting, have trained in the external hard skills and can withstand knives and guns. However, I won't hold back on you either - this precious sword in my hand is a treasured sword from the Wudang Sect's Zhenwu Temple, capable of cutting hair and slicing through iron as if it were mud. Even with a golden bell or an iron shirt, you can't withstand this sword's thrusts. If you have any expertise with a particular weapon, feel free to bring it out and engage in battle with me; otherwise, soon enough, the weapon will be blind and the fists and feet merciless - if I end up injuring you with my sword, don't blame me."

  He casually threw the sword sheath to his feet, Song Jie held the sword in his hand, flat against his chest, a pair of eyes staring straight at Wang Chan, and suddenly smiled lightly.

  "Haha! Since that's the case, you want to fight, I'll fight! Dealing with you, I don't need any special weapons or tactics. Bring it on!!" Facing Song Jie, who was holding a sword in both hands and pressing it against his chest, Wang Chan's expression became slightly more subdued. In martial arts, the use of blades and fists are different; fist techniques often rely on brute force to harm others, while blade techniques are swift and deadly, killing with ease like cutting grass.

  A master swordsman. With a sword in hand, when it comes to taking lives, he is more formidable than any boxing or kicking expert.

  Where the sword points, heads roll.

  In the fist method, although there are also bare-handed white blade, large and small grasping hand techniques, but that can only be smoothly performed when the martial arts skills of both sides differ greatly. If the opposing parties' martial arts techniques are similar, in a life-and-death struggle, the one who dies is absolutely the bare-handed person.

  This is undoubtedly the case.

  This Song Jie, his footsteps were light and airy, like a cloud floating on water, flowers falling and dust settling, his feet moved without sound, but his whole body was in motion, all four limbs and hundred joints connected, Wang Chan took one look and knew that this person's swordsmanship far surpassed Lei Ting's, he was a true master who had killed with his sword.

  "I thought I had given Lin Yuanshan a hidden hand, and the ones who would come to trouble me would definitely be the forces of the Lin family. Unexpectedly, it was an unexpected challenger." Wang Chan thought to himself.

  "Judging from his tone and demeanor, he seems to be quite familiar with Lei Feng, and also appears to be a young master from a prestigious family in the capital. However, since things have come to this point, I've already stated my conditions, and if he insists on comparing martial arts skills, then it can only end in one of us dying, otherwise my fist intent and spirit will be compromised. In the future, I won't..."

  In the capital, there are heroes and geniuses everywhere. In the martial arts circle, masters emerge one after another. Lin Yuanfang is also the next generation of the Lin family, a designated successor who has been carefully nurtured. Wang Chan's "daring to defy the heavens" internal explosive palm technique was unleashed on him, and in a certain sense, it can be said that he was indeed "ruthlessly slapped in the face by all the martial artists in the capital", just as Song Jie had said.

  It can be certain that no matter what the outcome is, the controversy triggered by Wang Chan has just begun.

  "Alright then, let me see. What are you capable of? Don't say I'm bullying you with a sword when you're unarmed, empty-handed. Today's battle is one where you yourself chose not to use any weapons."

  This Song Jie, Wang Chan didn't know him at all and had never heard of him. However, looking at him now, he can't be underestimated. And he claimed to be a descendant of the Wudang Danpai Swordsmanship.

  The world-transmitted Wudang Sword Method. The external transmission has thirteen moves, namely: drawing out, lifting, wrapping, blocking, striking, stabbing, pointing, collapsing, stirring, pressing, chopping, intercepting and washing. The thirteen-character formula is similar to the "shelves, treading, squeezing, pressing" of Taiji Quan, with thirteen kinds of hitting methods such as adopting, listing, elbow leaning, advancing and retreating, looking left and right, and central stability. Therefore, Wudang Jianfa is also called "Neijia Sword Method" like the internal family Taiji Quan.

  He is walking on the path of " Inner Truth and Outer Gold", cultivating the most authentic Taoist Dharma.

  Although it is a sword in hand, it never departs from the way of internal energy and Qi transformation. Holding a sword in hand, the sword is an extension of the arm, with Qi operating the body. The body and sword move together, issuing from spiritual movement, combining with the reason of the sword, without fixed rules, what is said is "Combining the reason of the sword, clarifying the intention of the sword". Three turns of mistaken operation.

  The Taoist priests of the Wudang Sect practice swordplay and self-cultivation in their daily lives, cultivating their inner energy to achieve longevity. Once they engage in combat with others, they instantly transform into a roaming dragon. Their swords move like the wind, employing various techniques such as striking, stabbing, blocking, and washing away. With the subtlety of grasping lightning and holding onto clouds, they borrow force from the situation and take advantage of the void to launch a surprise attack. In the blink of an eye, with just one strike, the sword's light flashes, and taking someone's life becomes as simple as eating and drinking.

  However, those who practice swordsmanship are too focused on external objects and do not have the mind to temper their muscles and bones. Practicing fist techniques and martial arts, with a sword in hand, they naturally have no place to go. But without it, they are like an old tiger without teeth, and their prestige drops by a hundredfold.

  A sword has two blades, both of which can harm people and kill enemies, unlike ordinary martial artists. Bare-handed against an enemy, one must use clumsy force to injure with fists, palms, legs, and feet. A single swift sword strike is sure to see blood. It's just like an ordinary person nowadays suddenly picking up a gun - although they haven't practiced any martial arts, with just two fingers moving, they can still take lives.

  The inherent function of a weapon is to kill and hunt, defend against external insults. If it were to fall into the hands of a master, the world would be truly terrifying. With a single flip, thrust, and slash, no matter what kind of external skill or armor one has, it can all be shattered in an instant, split in two.

  。

  As he practiced the Thunderbolt Technique to its peak, his Iron Shirt had already become the first hard qigong of the Wudang Sect. Not only could it withstand the powerful blows of iron rods and bricks, but even ordinary knives and axes couldn't penetrate his skin. However, if he were to encounter a precious sword that could cut through iron like mud, he would still be injured.

  After all, no matter how high one's kung fu is, they still fear the "knife" and lightning-fast punches that can penetrate iron cloth shirts, but it doesn't mean their physical body has turned into an iron body.

  As for Wang Chan's Thirteen Taibao horizontal refining, it was another matter altogether. Even Shao Nanhua's Seven Star Needles couldn't penetrate it, which was almost a skill that transcended ordinary martial arts and was vastly different from the fist techniques of today.

  So Wang Chan faced Song Jie who was holding an ancient sword, and he didn't care at all.

  Moreover, let alone that his newly forged big gun was not by his side, even if it were, Wang Chan did not intend to win with weapons.

  His big gun, as thick as a duck egg. Seven or eight feet long, the entire body is made of fine steel, weighing at least 70-80 kilograms. Compared to Song Jie's hand-held ancient sword, it weighs more than 20 times heavier. Moreover, Wang Chan's spear techniques are truly used on the battlefield, with thousands of soldiers and horses, ten times more powerful than ordinary people, a killing machine that can take down thousands of enemies, if taken out, it would be simply bullying others.

  What Wudang swordsmanship, I just thrust out with one spear, and Song Jie may not even have a chance to strike back.

  Sugar gourd. The corpse flew high in the air for six thousand feet. Wang Chan hummed a soft tune, standing still without opening his stance, but with great interest looked at Song Jie's face which became increasingly solemn and quiet. Gradually, he felt that between the two of them, a strong gust of wind slowly rose, blowing the grass leaves on both sides to fly upside down, rustling loudly.

  As Song Jie slowly drew the treasured sword from its scabbard, he had already entered a state of being, clearing his mind and focusing inward. He began to build up his momentum before making his move. With a gentle voice, he suddenly dropped down, his body bent in a low bow, and with a swift motion, the treasured sword flashed out of its scabbard, shining like a rainbow-colored stream, as he launched a flurry of three consecutive slashes at Wang Chan.

  Song Jie didn't move a step, his sword flashed left and right, the blade trembled, shining brightly, his wrist shook, and instantly three lotus-shaped sword flowers, as big as a bowl, shot out towards the sunlight, and in an instant, they dazzled Wang Chan's eyes.

  The sword is originally a short weapon, close combat, one touch and go, when fighting with others, from the beginning to occupy the advantageous position of heaven and earth, with the footwork of walking, occupying the upper hand, not like a long and short knife, wild and tyrannical, hard and straight. But the sword tip is virtual and real, first to dazzle the opponent's eyes, not to fight hard with others, but to examine the situation and create opportunities for attack, when the opportunity comes, it is the killing move.

  Therefore, a master swordsman engages in combat with others. The only thing that truly kills is one sword stroke. Everything else, no matter how intense the struggle, is empty.

  Moreover, Song Jie's loose-woven ancient Ding sword came extremely fast! His experience in judging the situation and interacting with people was also extremely rich. In the midst of changing circumstances, fake moves could be transformed into real ones at any time. Three sword flowers instantly sealed off all the hiding spaces in front of Wang Chan, and when they reached his body, there was another flash of light, like a spirit snake spitting out its tongue, which instantly touched the center of Wang Chan's brow, within three inches of space.

  What's even more frightening is that the long sword in Song Jie's hand was indeed a razor-sharp blade, cutting through iron like mud. With his inner family's true energy urging him on, the tip of the sword suddenly emitted a short, inch-long beam of light, piercing through the air with a hissing sound, like tearing apart silk fabric. The sword had not yet arrived, but it already made Wang Chan's brow twitch with a start, feeling as if he had been pricked by a needle at that point. Between his eyebrows and eyes was filled with dazzling sword light, shining brightly and blooming into flowers.

  This skill is actually the "Sword Energy Sword Edge" often described in martial arts novels, which can only be achieved by a sword master who has dedicated his life to practicing swordsmanship, merging his energy with the sword, and becoming one with it. Although Song Jie is still far from reaching that level, the ancient sword in his hand is a secret treasure of the Wudang Danpai sect, extremely sharp and powerful. After he infused his energy into the sword, it can produce a similar effect, causing intense vibrations.

  Wang Chan's eyes narrowed into a thin slit, but the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the sword couldn't prevent him from distinguishing Song Jie's sword moves. He immediately saw clearly Song Jie's three consecutive swords, the sword edge scraping through the air and the brush strokes of a calligraphy master splashing ink having a similar place, was a cursive "zhi" character, seeming to go from left to right, connected in a line, but actually going from top to bottom, stretching across his brow down to his lower abdomen.

  If I couldn't dodge and was struck by his sword, not only would my brow be pierced through, but also my throat, chest, and abdomen would all be split open at the same time. My belly would be ripped apart, torn into two pieces.

  "Whether it's Taoism or martial arts, swordsmanship is indeed used for killing."

  As soon as he turned his mind slightly, Wang Chan immediately knew that Song Jie's move was a killing move, and there was no room for himself to turn around.

  "Even my master wouldn't dare to face my loose-woven ancient sword with bare hands. If you can't even block this one sword of mine, then you're also a deceitful and infamous person. I'll kill you if I must, and it's only natural that I, Song Jie, am heartless and ruthless."

  In the instant that his sword was drawn, Song Jie's mind became completely calm and merged with the sword. The moment he struck was a killing move in Wudang Swordsmanship called "Zi Zuan Lian Huan Jian". Just as his sword was about to sweep across his opponent's brow, Wang Chan still stood motionless on the spot, not making any movement. Song Jie couldn't help but sneer inwardly.

  It's just that Wang Chan's name doesn't match reality. His reputation is too big, but in fact he can't even subdue Lin Yuanfang with his internal power. He has been working at the National Security Bureau's Overseas Operations Department for years, executing missions dozens of times, each time without a gun, only with a sword in hand, and no enemy can escape being cut down by him, there are no exceptions.

  Up to now, his swordsmanship has reached the realm of "Dark Room Fragrance", where he can instantly split a flying soybean in half with one hand. This time when he returned home, he originally wanted to use this as an opportunity to ask his master for even higher-level sword techniques, but unexpectedly encountered Wang Chan here.

  Although Song Jie and Wang Chan were not enemies, he had killed many people while executing tasks abroad. As soon as he made a move, it was a killing move, with each move linked together in a chain. Especially since he came from a wealthy family, his clan and sect both had great power domestically, so he didn't fear killing people at all.

  I just think that Wang Chan is dead and that's it, there's nothing to regret.

  Wang Chan sensed the murderous intent in Song Jie's heart. He couldn't help but let out a long sigh, and by the time he looked up again, Song Jie's long sword had already reached his forehead, its blade energy surging forward, tearing apart the air in front of him. The sound that came out was like pouring cold water into a hot oil pan - sizzling, a burst of explosive noise.

  This was the sound of the sword trembling, a bone-chilling coldness that instantly ran down his cheek. Just as it seemed like he would be hit in an instant, Wang Chan's face revealed a faint smile, and with a sudden movement, he raised one of his arms from below, sweeping upwards in a powerful motion, like scooping the moon from the bottom of the sea.

  Ding ding ding, dong dong dong, ding dong ding dong!

  A burst of clashing metal sounds suddenly came out, and it was Wang Chan who had just used his thumb to grab the hilt of Song Jie's sword as it was about to pierce his own eyebrow.

  Wang Chan's fingernails all popped out of his fingertips, each one over an inch long, like tiger claws, flexible and retractable. He grasped Song Jie's sword with a swipe, immediately producing a series of clanging sounds, as if steel claws were scratching the sword, sending sparks flying everywhere.

  But Song Jie's sword, which was about to reach its fastest point, was also caught by him and stopped suddenly, just one inch away from Wang Chan's eyebrow. No matter how hard he tried, for a moment, he couldn't move forward even half an inch.