20demayo Chapter 277 Inviting Li Chunfeng of Liyang to a Battle!
Chapter 277 Inviting Li Chunfeng of Liyang to a Battle!
"bite--!!!"
A very light and crisp sound of metal clashing rang out!
The sound wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the deathly silent hall!
Gu Jiantang's unstoppable giant sword suddenly stopped!
It stopped in mid-air!
The tip of the sword was only three inches from the top of Qin Mu's head!
But those three inches were like an insurmountable chasm!
It could not advance even an inch further!
Gu Jiantang's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints!
He stared intently at the sword!
Stare at those two fingers gripping the sword!
Her fingers were long, slender, fair, and with distinct knuckles, gleaming like jade in the candlelight.
But at this moment, those two fingers, like iron clamps, firmly gripped his giant sword, which was powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks!
He strained hard, trying to pull the sword back!
Not moving at all!
He frantically channeled his inner energy, trying to break free from the restraint of those two fingers!
Still completely still!
The sword seemed to be welded to those two fingers!
Gu Jiantang's face instantly turned ashen!
Cold sweat poured from my forehead like a burst dam!
His lips trembled violently, and his eyes were filled with disbelief and shock!
"you--"
Qin Mu remained seated on the throne, one hand supporting his chin, his posture languid.
His other hand still held the greatsword.
He just sat there, looking at Gu Jiantang, at his pale face.
"General Gu," Qin Mu spoke, his voice soft yet each word clear, "your swordsmanship—"
He paused, his gaze falling on the greatsword that was caught in the grip:
"You still need to practice more."
The moment the words fell—
He flicked his finger lightly.
"Buzz—!!!"
A dull, reverberating sound rang out!
The giant sword trembled violently instantly!
The trembling was so intense that the tiger's mouth of Gu Jiantang's hand holding the sword instantly cracked!
Blood splattered!
He was sent flying backward as if struck by a giant hammer!
"Bang--!!!"
His body crashed heavily into the golden dragon pillar five zhang away!
The golden pillar shook violently, and the dragon relief on its body cracked from the shock!
Gu Jiantang's body slid off the golden pillar and crashed heavily to the ground!
He lay on the ground, panting heavily.
Blood from the tiger's mouth flowed all over the ground.
The giant sword in his hand had already flown out and landed with a "clang" three zhang away.
He tried to get up.
But his body felt like it was falling apart, and he could hardly move even a finger.
He could only lie there, raise his head, and stare intently at the man who was still sitting on the throne.
Qin Mu remained seated, one hand supporting his chin, his posture languid.
He looked down at his two fingers.
His fingers were stained with the blood from Gu Jiantang's ruptured sword.
He frowned slightly.
He took out a plain white handkerchief from his bosom and slowly wiped the bloodstains from his fingertips.
The movements were slow and gentle, as if they had just done something completely ordinary.
Inside the hall, there was a deathly silence.
Zhang Julu stood still, motionless.
He looked at Gu Jiantang lying on the ground, at the deep fear and resentment in those tiger-like eyes.
Looking at the man still sitting on the throne, watching him slowly wiping his fingers.
His lips trembled slightly, but he couldn't utter a single word.
Li Chunfeng stood to the side, holding a whisk in his hand.
His face was as calm as an ancient well.
But a complex emotion flashed in those cloudy old eyes.
He knew Gu Jiantang would lose.
But he never expected to be defeated so quickly and so completely.
Two fingers.
You only need two fingers.
It broke Gu Jiantang's all-out sword strike.
He was sent flying five zhang away.
This man's strength—
It was even more terrifying than he had imagined.
Li Chunfeng's hand tightened slightly.
But he didn't say anything.
I just stood there quietly, watching.
Zhao Qingxue stood by the palace gate, watching this scene unfold.
She knew this would happen.
Gu Jiantang was no match for him at all.
But she couldn't stop her.
Looking at him like this now.
What welled up in her heart was not blame, nor anger.
Instead, I felt sorry for them.
I feel sorry for this loyal general, who was willing to fight a losing battle for her sake.
At the same time, there was also a sense of relief.
Fortunately, Qin Mu did not kill the other party.
Zhao Qingxue took a deep breath.
The breath she inhaled, carrying the stench of blood from the hall, made her more alert.
She stepped forward and walked to Gu Jiantang's side.
"General Gu," she called softly.
Gu Jiantang raised his head and looked at her.
Those tiger eyes were now filled with tears.
He looked at Zhao Qingxue, at the face he had seen since he was a child.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something.
But in the end, he could only choke back tears and say:
"Your Majesty... Your ..., I am incompetent..."
Zhao Qingxue looked at him and gently shook her head.
"No," she said, her voice soft but unusually clear.
"You're fine."
"You have always been the best general."
Gu Jiantang's tears finally welled up and spilled out.
He lowered his head and let the tears flow.
His shoulders were trembling violently.
But he gritted his teeth, trying not to make a sound.
Seeing him like this, Zhao Qingxue felt even more heartbroken.
He turned his head and looked at Qin Mu.
Qin Mu met Zhao Qingxue's gaze.
He didn't speak.
He simply reached out and waved to her.
The movement was very light and casual.
Yet it carries an undeniable air.
Zhao Qingxue looked at him.
She looked at the hand that was beckoning to her.
She pursed her lips.
Then, take a step.
I walked towards him step by step.
I walked up to him and stopped.
Qin Mu looked at her.
Looking at her pale, yet unusually calm face.
Looking into her deep purple phoenix eyes, I saw the complex emotions within them.
He stretched out his hand.
Gently take her hand.
The movement was very light and natural.
Zhao Qingxue did not dodge.
She simply let him hold her hand.
The two stood there, one sitting on the throne, the other standing beside him.
Moonlight streamed in from outside the palace, illuminating the two of them.
Their shadows were cast on the ground, intertwined.
Zhang Julu watched this scene unfold.
Look at their emperor, standing beside that man.
Look at the hand that is being held.
His tears welled up again.
But he gritted his teeth, trying not to make a sound.
She just stood there, letting her tears flow silently.
Li Chunfeng closed his eyes.
I took a deep breath.
Inside the Tianqi Hall, the candlelight flickered, casting long, long shadows of everyone on the golden brick floor.
Gu Jiantang lay on the ground, panting heavily.
The blood from the tiger's mouth was still flowing, pooling into a shocking crimson stain on the gleaming floor.
His body remained immobile, as if every bone had fallen apart and every muscle was howling in agony.
But he still kept his head up, staring intently at the man sitting on the throne.
Those tiger eyes held a mixture of resentment, anger, fear, and a sense of desperate helplessness.
Qin Mu sat on the throne, one hand supporting his chin, his posture as languid as if he were taking a nap in his own backyard.
His other hand was holding Zhao Qingxue's hand.
The movement was very light and natural, as if it were the natural course of action.
His gaze swept over the three people inside the hall.
His gaze swept over Gu Jiantang, who was lying on the ground, covered in blood.
He glanced at Zhang Julu, who was standing to the side, his face pale.
The light swept over the old man with white hair and a youthful face, who was holding a whisk.
Finally, it landed on the old man.
Li Chunfeng.
Li Yang Sword God.
A half-step terrestrial immortal realm.
Thirty years ago, he was already famous throughout the land, and it is said that he had one foot in that legendary realm.
Qin Mu looked at him, a hint of interest flashing in his eyes.
He released Zhao Qingxue's hand and slowly stood up.
His moon-white robe fell with his movements, the hem brushing against the gold brick floor without making a sound.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on Li Chunfeng.
"Anyone else want to take on the challenge?"
His voice was soft and casual, as if he were asking what to eat for dinner.
"Let's go at it together."
He paused, a half-smile playing on his lips:
"Don't waste time."
These words were spoken very softly and casually.
But to Zhang Julu, it sounded like a thunderclap!
His pupils suddenly contracted, and the color drained from his aged face instantly!
Don't waste your time?
What does this mean?
Zhang Julu's fingers trembled violently inside his sleeve.
He looked at Li Chunfeng.
He looked at the old man to whom he had placed his last hope.
Li Chunfeng stood to the side of the hall, dressed in a blue Taoist robe, holding a white jade whisk, with white hair and a youthful face, exuding an air of otherworldly elegance.
His face was calm, as calm as an ancient well.
Only those eyes—
Those eyes, which were always half-closed, were now fully open.
Its brilliance was restrained, like two ancient pools of unfathomable depth.
He stood there quietly, his gaze meeting Qin Mu's.
There was no fear.
There was no backing down.
There was only a deep, calm.
Looking at him like this, Qin Mu's appreciation deepened.
He stepped forward and slowly descended the imperial steps.
His steps were unhurried, and his moon-white robe trailed across the floor, stirring up a faint breeze.
He stopped in the center of the hall.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze still fixed on Li Chunfeng.
"I have long heard of Master Li's profound and mysterious abilities."
His voice was soft, yet exceptionally clear in the deathly silent hall.
"He has already reached the half-step realm of a terrestrial immortal."
He paused, a sincere smile curving his lips:
"How about—"
He spoke slowly and deliberately:
"Come up and exchange a move with me, how about it?"
The moment the words fell.
Inside the hall, a deathly silence fell once again.
Zhang Julu's heart leaped into his throat!
He wanted to stop it.
I wanted to tell Li Chunfeng not to agree.
But he knew he couldn't stop it.
Because he is Li Chunfeng.
It is the Sword God of Liyang.
He was a peerless expert who had been famous throughout the land for thirty years and had never been defeated.
How could someone like that possibly back down when faced with a challenge?
Even if you know the other party is unfathomable.
Even knowing that this journey would likely end in danger.
He would never say "no".
This is the dignity of a swordsman.
This is the pride of the strong.
This is the fundamental reason why Li Chunfeng was who he was.
Zhang Julu closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When I opened my eyes again, they were filled with a complex clarity.
He didn't speak.
Just standing there, watching.
Looking at Li Chunfeng.
He looked at the old man he had known for decades.
Gu Jiantang lay on the ground, his head raised, staring intently at Li Chunfeng.
In those tiger-like eyes, there was expectation, worry, and an indescribable emotion.
He wanted to shout: "Imperial Advisor, no!"
But it was as if something was blocking his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.
All I could do was lie there and watch.
Zhao Qingxue stood motionless on the imperial steps.
Her hand remained suspended in mid-air.
When Qin Mu released her hand just now, that hand was hanging there in the air.
At that moment, she slowly clenched her fist.
My fingernails dug deep into my palm, sending a sharp pain through me.
But she couldn't feel it.
She just stared intently at Li Chunfeng.
Staring at that aged, yet unusually calm face.
She knew Li Chunfeng's strength.
A half-step terrestrial immortal, he has roamed the world for thirty years without ever being defeated.
But she also knew Qin Mu's strength.
The phantom image conjured by the Emperor Taizu's decree was crushed by him with a casual wave of his hand.
Gu Jiantang's all-out sword strike was caught between two of his fingers.
High in the sky, he carried her ability to travel thousands of miles in an instant—
That is a true existence, beyond all imagination.
No matter how strong Li Chunfeng was, could he be stronger than Emperor Taizu?
Could he be stronger than that immortal who ascended to heaven three hundred years ago?
The phantom of the founding emperor couldn't even last three breaths in front of Qin Mu.
Li Chunfeng —
How long can it last?
A deep worry flashed in Zhao Qingxue's eyes.
She wanted to speak.
I want to stop it.
I wanted to tell Li Chunfeng not to.
But when she opened her mouth, she couldn't utter a single word.
Because she knew that Li Chunfeng wouldn't listen.
Because that is his pride.
That was his dignity as the God of Swords.
Inside the hall, there was a deathly silence.
All eyes were on Li Chunfeng.
waiting.
We awaited the old man's reply.
finally--
Li Chunfeng made a move.
He slowly raised his eyes to meet Qin Mu's gaze.
There was no fear or hesitation in those cloudy old eyes.
There was only peace.
It was as calm as an ancient well that had stood for a thousand years.
He spoke.
The voice was aged and ethereal, yet exceptionally clear:
"Since His Majesty has invited us—"
He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:
"There's no reason for me to refuse."