Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 655 Fame Spreads Throughout the World 3

Yun Chu's fingertips brushed against the cool tassel of the sword. Amidst the intense gazes of the room, the ripples spreading across the amber plum wine in the bowl suddenly froze, as still as a mirror. She abruptly reached out, dipped her hand in the tea, and flicked it into the air.

The moment the water droplet paused, Su Ling's blade flashed like a red snake coiling around it.

Clang!

The Cold Moon Sword was drawn three inches from its sheath at some unknown time.

The frost-covered blade, reflecting the falling tea droplet, precisely flicked upwards, the first drop shattering at the seven-inch mark of Su Ling's left blade—precisely the weakest point in the flow of the twin blades.

With a clear sound like jade beads falling onto a plate, the force of the two blades snapping together instantly decreased by 30%.

Just as Su Ling realized her blade was faltering, Yun Chu's sword tip touched the protruding knuckle of her right hand. The icy touch, like a silver needle piercing an acupoint, startled the delicate tendons in her wrist, causing them to tremble slightly.

The second drop of tea then fell into the celadon bowl.

"Good!" Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Su Ling leaped back three steps, her almond eyes gleaming like scattered stars: "Sister, this sword of yours can truly slay flies!" When the sword shadow rose again, it was even more cunning, the willow-leaf double blades suddenly splitting left and right and twisting towards Yun Chu's waist belt - it was actually the Su family's secret technique, Two Dragons Seizing the Pearl.

A glint flashed in Yun Chu's eyes.

This time, there was no parrying; the scabbard suddenly slipped from his hand, spun backward, and flew diagonally, crashing right into the gap between the two swords.

With a muffled clang, the blade's momentum was forced into a self-locking collision by the spinning scabbard.

The moment Su Ling's hand went numb, Tian Qing's figure slid to her side like a fish. As the icy silk sword tassel brushed past her ear, fingertips, shadowed by a locust tree, lightly pressed the Fengchi acupoint on the back of her neck.

"Take a breath." The whisper traveled through his meridians with the force of the palm.

Su Ling suddenly felt the tightness in her chest disappear, only then realizing that she had forgotten to breathe during the fierce battle.

When she turned around again, Yun Chu's sword was already sheathed, the end of the black iron scabbard pressing down neatly on her loose half of the pale yellow hair ribbon.

In the reflection of the tea soup, the light spots filtering through the windowpane fell on the crack between the two people, which was three feet apart, like a chessboard with the Chu River laid out.

The courtyard was silent, save for the cicadas' long, drawn-out chirping in the dappled sunlight filtering through the old locust tree leaves, where the two figures intertwined. The water droplets from the ice bowl in the steward's hand finally fell, leaving dark stains on the bluestone bricks.

As the sun began to set in the west, seven or eight kinds of weapons lay scattered on the blue brick ground in the courtyard.

The broken V-shaped nine-ringed sword was still embedded in the crevice of the rock, causing the bearded bodyguard with the golden-backed mountain-chopping sword to stare at his trembling right hand—the powerful splitting of Mount Hua just now had been brushed by the sky-blue sword tassel, causing the hilt to fall back against his ribs.

"This is weird!" The bearded bodyguard muttered, clutching his stomach, his meteor hammer chain still dangling from the locust tree branch.

All eyes were fixed on the azure figure in the center of the room, where Yun Chu was bending down to pick up the bayberries that had rolled to the ground.

The bright red juice from the shattered fruit stained her fingertips, resembling red plum blossoms blooming in the snow.

The purple clay teapot held in Chief Escort Su's palm suddenly rippled.

As the tea rippled outwards, the old镖头 (bodyguard/escort) stood silently three steps away from Yun Chu, his black trousers clinging to his calves in the wind.

"Little girl, serve the tea." Before the words were finished, the steam from the teapot condensed into a straight line that pierced Yun Chu's brow.

The cold wind brought by the frost-covered blade first collided with the steaming tea.

The tip of the Cold Moon Sword held a perfectly round water droplet, hovering and confronting the mist arrow at close range.

As Yun Chu lightly twisted her wrist, the drop of water suddenly exploded into a fine mist, enveloping all the tea vapor in a crystalline net. Everyone heard only a soft rustling sound as the fine net of white mist condensed and became covered with frost crystals at the tip of the sword.

"Excellent technique!" Chief镖头 Su laughed loudly, making the lid of the purple clay teapot bounce, and slapped his left palm at the remnants of the soldiers on the ground.

The broken blade and rusty nails shot up like a storm towards Yun Chu's lower body—but as she leaped to dodge, they strangely veered into the air, heading straight for the meteor hammer chains struggling on the old locust tree.

Amidst the clanging of metal, Chief Escort Su swiftly maneuvered like a hawk, pressing two fingers together against the acupoint on the back of Yun Chu's knee as she turned.

This attack targeted the moment when she hadn't fully capitalized on the momentum; the force of the wind emanating from her fingertips even lifted the hem of her sky-blue skirt.

At that moment, the scabbard plunged downwards. The iron sheath struck the crack in the blue brick with pinpoint accuracy, and Yun Chu used this slight force to flip sideways in mid-air.

The Cold Moon Sword grazed past Chief Escort Su's temple, the severed silver hair swirling with the sword's wind towards the purple clay teapot still spinning in the air.

The moment the tea was poured, their figures flashed and intertwined in the amber-colored water curtain.

Boom!

The purple clay teapot made a dull thud when it hit the bluestone slab.

As the tea stains snaked across the ground, Yun Chu's sword tip hovered three inches from Chief Escort Su's throat, while the old man's withered fingers pressed against her slightly bent right knee—where the wound from kicking over the Wang family's wicked servant on the official road still remained.

“I’m still half a breath ahead.” Chief镖头 Su withdrew his hand and stepped back, dark tea stains spreading across his black trousers. “When the little girl recovers, I’m afraid I won’t even be able to withstand ten moves.” He bent down and picked up the broken lid of the teapot, the sweet fragrance of plum juice seeping from the crack.

Yun Chu sheathed her sword and her gaze fell on the flags of darts lined up against the wall. The crimson silk was stained blood-red by the setting sun, and the iron rings at the corners of the flags still jingled.

The evening breeze drifted into the courtyard, making the broken blades scattered on the ground vibrate and hum.

As Su Ling ran over with a freshly brewed plum drink, the meteor hammer chains entangled on the old locust tree crashed to the ground, splashing up the last shimmering rays of sunlight from the tea stains.

The shadows of wisteria blossoms from the eaves crawled across the mess on the ground, leaving cracks deeper than sword marks in the gaps between the blue bricks.

As the cicadas' chirping faded into twilight under the old locust tree, lanterns were already lit in front of the hall.

Su Ling pressed Yun Chu to the head of the rosewood octagonal table, her apricot-yellow shirt brushing against the edge of the celadon plate: "Sister, try this vinegar fish, it's freshly caught from the canal this morning!" Before the silver chopsticks could fall, her sky-blue sleeve was pressed down by another pair of calloused hands.

"What's the rush?" Chief镖头 Su pushed the plum wine cup in front of Yun Chu, and his withered index finger suddenly pressed against the thin callus on her hand.

The old man chuckled as he stroked the callus: "It's a callus from when I was three years old practicing swordsmanship; it should be three inches below the wrist bone."

The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes danced with the candlelight, his gaze as heavy as a weight pressing on the icy silk tassels of the sword. "This 'Red Lips' move is exquisite, but it's a pity that the elbow was raised half an inch at the start."

A tinkling sound came from under the wisteria trellis outside the window.

Seven or eight bodyguards, carrying rough earthenware bowls filled with braised pork trotters and freshly baked sesame cakes pressed against the rims, all stood in the shadows of the veranda, not daring to approach.

Su Ling jumped up and lifted the curtain, the wooden curtain swaying and startling a few mosquitoes: "Standing here feeding the mosquitoes? Has Uncle Qin's knife skills gone to waste?"

Then the crowd surged into the courtyard. The owner held the golden-backed cleaver upside down, the blade making a dull thud as it struck the blue bricks.

Two bright tiger-eye snails suddenly pressed into the white jade bowl in front of Yun Chu.

The bearded bodyguard rubbed the blood-soaked gauze on his sleeve and laughed: "Those bastards from the Wang family love to poison snails. Miss, you have such good eyesight..." Before he could finish speaking, Su Ling hit the back of his hand with her soup spoon, and the snail meat rolled into the winter melon bowl, with oil floating on top like broken gold.

In the flickering light of the exploding candle wick, Chief Escort Su picked up the wine jug.

As the amber-colored plum wine was poured into Yun Chu's cup, the old镖头's wrist suddenly twitched—just like the move he had used to intercept her knee during the day.

The wine remained steadily at about three-tenths of the way up the rim of the glass, not spilling an inch. "Tomorrow at Chenshi (7-9 AM)," the black sleeve brushed against the chipped cloud pattern on the edge of the table, "this old man will take you to the back mountain for some sparring."

Two of the lanterns on the eaves suddenly went out.

In the instant darkness fell, Yun Chu saw the old man turn his back and offer incense to the statue of the Martial Saint in front of the hall.

The three incense sticks curled upwards between his clasped hands, their smoke rising straighter than the hilt of a knife.

Su Ling was piling magnolia petals into her dish, and the pile of dried apricots and candied fruits was about to collapse. The shiny roasted walnuts rolled into the cracks between the blue bricks and were snatched away by a raccoon cat that came only because of the aroma.

When the lights came back on, the cups and goblets on the table reflected the image of the Cold Moon Sword leaning against the wall. The icy tassels on the sword swayed gently in the breeze, just as a returning swallow swept by.

The moonlight, like silver threads, silently streamed into the sliding windows of the guest rooms.