Fighting Flying Swords at the Ming Qi Stage is akin to commanding armies on both sides. The Spiritual Energy within oneâs chest serves as the troops. Feng Ming knew his own Spiritual Energy was greater in quantity, but the opponent suddenly employed a cunning tactic, scattering his forces and putting him at a disadvantage. As long as the opponent couldnât overwhelm him in one breath, Feng Ming believed that once he regained his footing, the one to lose would inevitably be the other side!
Based on his calculations, Zhang Yanâs Spiritual Energy must total between thirty-six and forty-two in number. He merely needed to hold on a little longer.
Clinging to this belief, he struggled to persevere under Zhang Yanâs relentless pressure, awaiting the moment of reversal.
When both sword balls rotated to thirty-six counts, Feng Ming noticed Zhang Yan still maneuvered with ease. His face showed a faint trace of panic, though he remained somewhat composed. Yet, he began to feel his strength waning, and an inexplicable anxiety arose within him, growing stronger with each passing second.
When the count reached forty-two, an unbelievable thought flashed through Feng Mingâs mind. His body began to tremble, and his control over the sword balls became increasingly strained. By this point, he could only rigidly follow Zhang Yanâs sword balls in rotation, completely unable to counterstrike.
At the forty-eighth count, he could no longer hold on. He failed to muster his last breath of Spiritual Energy, and his sword ball faltered.
Zhang Yanâs sword ball effortlessly turned and darted directly toward Feng Mingâs chest. The latter could only watch helplessly, powerless to defend himself.
With a loud "pa," Feng Ming was struck in the chest by Zhang Yanâs sword ball. He staggered back two steps, his eyes filled with disbelief. His expression shifted multiple timesâfrom unwillingness to confusion, and finally to sheer shame and anger.
Zhang Yan smiled faintly, cupped his hands toward Feng Ming, and said, "Senior Brother, thank you for allowing me the win."
Feng Ming stood there motionless and silent, his thoughts unknown. Yet his hands continued to tremble.
Observing from the stone platform, Elder Chen furrowed his brows. With a wave of his horsetail whisk, he muttered something softly. The Daoist boy beside him stepped forward and announced, "The Ancestor Master summons this Senior Brother to come up for a discussion."
Zhang Yan walked to the stone platform with composure and performed a bow to Elder Chen. However, it was not the deferential greeting of a junior but that of an equal.
Seeing this, Elder Chenâs expression darkened, and he asked coldly, "Let me ask you thisâhave you studied this Flying Sword Skill before?"
Without hesitation, Zhang Yan shook his head and replied, "Never."
Elder Chen pointed his horsetail whisk at him and admonished sharply, "Nonsense! Do not deceive me! Judging by your masteryâyour seamless transitions, perfectly smooth maneuversâitâs evident youâve trained diligently for years. Speak truthfully; who taught you this skill?"
Faced with Elder Chenâs piercing gaze, Zhang Yan remained calm and answered confidently, "Disciple has been part of the Upper Court for less than a year. Breaking through the Ming Qi Second Realm happened just a month ago. Recently, I carried out a mission to Water Country, and my return to the Upper Court was only today. I donât know where years of training come into play."
In truth, although Elder Chenâs assessment of years of training wasnât incorrect, practitioners of Flying Sword skills couldnât typically achieve such mastery in one year, let alone dedicating all their time to swordsmanship. Zhang Yan, however, had spent two hundred days intensely refining amidst the Broken Jade, so "yearsâ worth of practice" was indeed an apt description.
"Hmm? Less than a year since entering?"
Elder Chenâs brows furrowed deeper. Having spent many years in seclusion, heâd only recently returned at Elder Xunâs request to impart swordsmanship. Feng Ming was someone he had only met today. Naturally, he knew nothing about Zhang Yan, and no one had bothered to mention such minor details to him.
He asked, "What is your name? Whose disciple are you? Do you hold any official positions?"
Zhang Yan straightened his posture, his expression serious but calm, and replied, "I am Zhang Yan, honored to serve as an Inspector from the Elixir Cauldron Institute. My master currently holds the position of Dean of the Elixir Cauldron Institute."
Elder Chen was briefly stunned. "Youâre Junior Master Zhouâs disciple?"
He thought to himself, "No wonder this person seemed somewhat lacking in decorum earlierâit turns out we are of equal rank. That explains the matter, after all."
Then, Elder Chen turned his head to glance at Feng Ming, feeling somewhat conflicted.
Initially, he had promised Elder Xun to pass the Star Sword Ball to Feng Ming. Whoâd have thought Zhang Yan would unexpectedly intervene? His skills in manipulating the sword ball were demonstrably superior. With tens of thousands of disciples watching, he couldnât resort to an ungracious tantrum. Thus, he summoned Zhang Yan with the intention of pressuring him verbally to yield voluntarily. However, upon learning that Zhang Yan was Zhou Chongjuâs disciple, he abandoned that idea altogether.
Zhou Chongju held a special position within the sectâhis status was exceptionally high, and apart from the Sect Leader, he cared little about anyone elseâs authority. Furthermore, Zhou Chongju was a renowned Elixir Dao Master in the East Splendor Continent, rendering Elder Chenâs usual intimidations completely ineffective against Zhang Yan. He simply had no jurisdiction over him.