Stop grinding, I'm really just a free spirit.

Chapter 49 All show and no substance

She slightly raised her eyelids, and a very serious light gathered in her clear, autumn-water eyes.

The light wasn't sharp, but rather like a sword being slowly drawn from its sheath, its cold gleam growing more and more menacing as the blade was revealed inch by inch.

She remained seated upright on the futon, her posture as straight as a pine tree. Unhurriedly, she raised her right hand, forming a sword with her fingers, and gently touched the swirling blue sword energy.

"Clang—"

A clear and melodious sword cry suddenly rang out.

The sound didn't seem to come from the ears, but rather exploded directly from the depths of the heart.

Clear and sharp.

It carries an undeniable sharpness.

The light gauze curtains on all four sides of the pavilion swayed in unison at the sound of the sword, and fine ripples spread across the cups on the low table.

With a flick of her fingers, Zhang Ruxue drew her sword from its sheath with a clang.

Everyone only saw a blur before their eyes, and the sword transformed into a streak of silver-white light, so fast that the outline of the sword was almost invisible.

The sword light drew a straight silver line in mid-air and disappeared in a flash.

The next moment, it precisely struck Wei Changfeng's pale blue sword energy.

There was no earth-shattering collision, no burst of spiritual energy causing sparks to fly.

It felt like pressing a red-hot iron onto a thin layer of snow—

"laugh--"

With a soft sound, the pale blue sword energy was severed in two, then turned into fine specks of light and vanished completely.

Like hot soup poured onto snow, it was utterly devastating.

A deathly silence fell over the room.

The immortal disciples who had just been praising Wei Changfeng froze on their faces before they could even wipe the smiles off.

Some people's hands, holding wine glasses, froze in mid-air; some people's mouths were open but they forgot to close them; and some people subconsciously reached for the sword at their waist, only to realize halfway through that they didn't know anything about swords.

Wei Changfeng was standing in the center of the pavilion, maintaining the posture from when he had just displayed his sword energy.

Before the humble smile on his face could fade, his pupils suddenly shrank to the size of pinpoints, reflecting the trajectory of the silver-white sword light slashing towards him.

"Brother Wei."

Zhang Ruxue parted her crimson lips slightly, her voice clear and cold.

She remained seated on the futon, her fingers still clasped, but with a thought, she used her spiritual sense to control the flying sword, drawing a sharp arc in the air.

"It is impolite not to reciprocate."

Before he finished speaking, the sword light, as sharp as a bolt of lightning, suddenly turned in mid-air, like a nimble silver fish, flicking its tail and stabbing towards Wei Changfeng's Six Yang Leader.

"you--"

Wei Changfeng was terrified and, no longer caring about his manners, hastily retreated.

He gripped the spirit sword in his right hand, which was not yet fully sheathed, and haphazardly blocked it forward. At the same time, he frantically activated the true qi in his dantian, condensing a layer of protective spiritual light on his body.

"Clang—"

The sound of metal clashing suddenly exploded.

Zhang Ruxue's flying sword struck Wei Changfeng's sword with a light but firm touch, yet the force was as heavy as an iron hammer hitting a thin sheet of iron.

Wei Changfeng felt a sudden jolt in his tiger's mouth, his entire right arm went numb, and the spirit sword in his hand almost flew out of his grasp.

He staggered back two steps, his back knocking over a low table, spilling the spirit wine all over the floor, and the cups rolled far away.

Zhang Ruxue remained seated in the same spot, without even changing her posture.

She simply used her right hand as a sword, her fair wrist turning lightly, her five fingers flying, and the flying sword spun in mid-air several feet away, as if it were an invisible thread tied to her fingertips.

His posture was calm and unhurried, even with a touch of leisurely ease.

Wei Changfeng, however, was not at all so composed.

At this moment, where was even a trace of the dashing demeanor he had displayed when he was showing off his sword energy?

His moon-white robe was soaked with spirit wine, his hair ornament was askew, and a few strands of hair clung to his sweaty forehead.

He gripped the spirit sword tightly with both hands, his footwork erratic, desperately parrying the omnipresent silver-white sword light.

The flying sword missed its target, bounced off the blade, traced an arc in mid-air, and then stabbed diagonally from the left.

Wei Changfeng hurriedly turned around and parried with his sword.

"clang--"

Another loud bang.

The force of this sword strike was several times greater than before. Wei Changfeng's arm went numb from the shock, and a tearing pain shot through his hand. He almost thought the skin on his palm had been ripped apart.

The flying sword gave him no chance to catch his breath.

The sword light shifted again, slashing diagonally downwards from above, its momentum as fierce as a waterfall.

Wei Changfeng hastily retreated, barely managing to avoid it, his back already covered in cold sweat.

Zhang Ruxue remained seated, her left hand resting on her knee, her right hand moving her fingers in a twirling motion, her expression as indifferent as ever.

Only in those focused eyes did a barely perceptible hint of disappointment occasionally flash by.

She was indeed feeling somewhat disappointed at that moment.

When Wei Changfeng demonstrated his sword energy just now, the light blue sword energy was indeed quite well condensed. Although his skill was still lacking, it at least proved that he had indeed put in a lot of hard work in swordsmanship.

That's why she felt a bit tempted to test her skills and see just how capable this Young Master Wei really was.

But after these few rounds of fighting, she realized that she had overestimated him.

That sword energy was more elegant than sharp, clearly indicating that it had gone astray in its foundation of swordsmanship.

At this moment, under her continuous attacks with flying swords, Wei Changfeng made numerous mistakes—

His footwork was unsteady, his sword moves were scattered, every parry was half a beat too slow, and every dodge was a close call.

Even more fatally, his heart had already panicked.

A swordsman who has lost his composure can only unleash 30% of his skill, no matter how good he is.

"wrong……"

Zhang Ruxue thought to herself, "This can't really be considered a sword cultivator. He just practiced a few sword techniques and luckily comprehended a sword aura."

As soon as this thought arose, the seriousness in Zhang Ruxue's eyes was gradually replaced by a deeper layer of indifference.

She thought she had met a kindred spirit worthy of learning from, but it turned out that the other person was nothing but a show-off.

This feeling is like eagerly anticipating a cup of tea, only to discover after tasting it that it's nothing more than the residue from three infusions.

Since that's the case, there's no need to waste any more time.

Zhang Ruxue's fingers shifted, her five fingers slightly spread, her palms clenched, and she grasped the invisible hilt of the flying sword in mid-air.

At the same time, the true qi of her embryonic breathing, which she had cultivated for several years, was suddenly activated in her dantian—

The flying sword suddenly trembled.

A frosty white sword aura slowly emerged from the sword.

That sword energy was not as graceful and agile as Wei Changfeng's light blue sword energy; instead, it was heavy and solid, like solid ice frozen on a cliff in the dead of winter.

The frost-white sword energy spread inch by inch from the sword, growing thicker and longer, until in the blink of an eye it gathered into a white ribbon several feet long.

A chilling aura emanated from the flying sword and swept outwards in all directions.