Chapter Twenty-Four: Victory and Achievement

Gongsun Xi had practiced the Sword of the Yue Maiden since childhood. As one of the most superior sword arts of the age, the Sword of the Yue Maiden encompassed all manner of techniques, seamlessly blending swordplay, footwork, and movement into a harmonious whole. Her understanding of this art, though different from her elder sister’s, nevertheless captured its true essence. Since her mastery of the sword, she had wielded a wooden blade, and with the Yue Maiden’s techniques, she had bested countless renowned heroes and adventurers.

For this reason, Gongsun Xi was exceedingly proud of her swordsmanship.

Yet today’s bout with Pei Min had opened her eyes and left her deeply shaken. She recognized the sword style Pei Min displayed—it was the widely-known basic sword technique of the martial world. It bore no name, its moves mere exercises in the rudiments of swordplay—cut, parry, thrust—the simplest and most common forms of attack. Though each region and master had their own variation, in essence, they were all much the same.

But in Pei Min’s hands, these simple movements became something wholly natural, a flawless fusion of hardness and softness, each complementing the other. He met every stroke of her famed Yue Maiden Sword with these unadorned techniques.

What unsettled her even more was that Pei Min, from the very beginning, had fought her blade to blade, never once resorting to the edge of his sword. In martial arts, one is meant to press their advantage against their opponent’s weakness. Her wooden sword was a clear disadvantage, yet Pei Min ignored this entirely, relying solely on his skill to match hers.

Gongsun Xi was fiercely competitive by nature. Had Pei Min countered her with advanced sword techniques, she might have accepted it. But that he used such ordinary moves only underscored her own inadequacy.

With her pride ignited, Gongsun Xi let out a spirited cry. As a flurry of sword shadows danced before her, she balanced on one foot, her body bending in an arc that defied reason. Within the shifting phantoms, her sword suddenly appeared, striking from an incredible angle—an attack mysterious and unpredictable, slashing across like lightning, fierce beyond compare. She had now unleashed the true essence of the Yue Maiden Sword.

The art itself was divided into two parts: the first, taught to the soldiers of Yue, focused on techniques for the battlefield—killing skills, not the true heart of the sword. Gongsun Xi’s attacks were blindingly swift; in the past, she’d relied solely on the deadly moves of the upper half, launching an overwhelming tide of offense that was always enough to secure victory. Only when pressed did she draw upon the second part of the art.

Pei Min noticed her stance—so graceful it resembled a dance. He was struck by her beauty, but in that instant, the sword was already upon him. Coupled with her astonishing flexibility, she had subtly sealed off every path of advance and retreat he might take.

So, this is it!

To Pei Min, this move was a thunderclap, a moment of instant clarity where all his doubts were swept away.

This was it!

Beauty!

He had always stumbled at a certain barrier when refining his version of the Yue Maiden Sword. It was not a problem of technique, but rather something intangible—a feeling.

Since ancient times, beauty has been a formidable weapon.

Recalling the elegant, ethereal steps of Gongsun You, and now Gongsun Xi’s dance-like movements, Pei Min realized both were breathtaking in their own ways, offering a pleasure to the eyes. Whenever people witness beauty, they instinctively and unconsciously lose a fraction of their focus. In a contest between experts, even the slightest distraction can be fatal.

Graceful and beautiful moves are not necessarily impractical. Gongsun Xi’s attack demonstrated this perfectly.

Pei Min smiled faintly. With a light tap of his toe, his body glided backward in a straight line, and his sword extended forward with effortless grace—a seemingly ordinary thrust.

This was the very move Gongsun You had used to counter Wang Hu. Unremarkable at first glance, yet it achieved much with little. As Pei Min executed this thrust, his body followed the sword, the sword followed his movement—there was an indescribable ease and elegance to it.

The Yue Maiden Sword was, in the end, a woman’s art. Its ingenious and fierce techniques infused the unpredictable charm and poise of a beauty, giving it a subtle power to bewitch the heart. Thus, when performed, it bore a delicate and alluring grace, the movements as lovely as a dance. For Pei Min, a grown man, to adopt such a feminine allure would be improper—unseemly, even.

Women possess their own unique charm and elegance; men have their own brand of freedom and poise.

While refining the Yue Maiden Sword, Pei Min had unconsciously infused the purely gentle techniques with a masculine vigor. Now, having crossed that threshold, he transformed allure into elegance, grace into an airy sprightliness—a completely different style, but no less powerful for it.

Gongsun Xi twisted her wrist, shifting her blade through ten directions in quick succession, yet still could not land a blow. Her assault came to an abrupt halt.

“You know the Yue Maiden Sword too?” Gongsun Xi was vexed that her most confident move had been broken by a technique so familiar to her. Then she shook her head, murmuring, “No, that’s not quite right.”

Pei Min laughed aloud. “A moment ago, it was a move from the Yue Maiden Sword. But now, reformed, it’s become part of my grand medley sword style!”

“Grand medley sword style!” Gongsun Xi’s eyes widened. “Why don’t I call it a stewed pot sword art!” As soon as her words fell, she darted forward once more.

The two clashed again, edge to edge. This time, their exchange lasted over a hundred moves, each defending and attacking in turn, neither giving an inch.

Gongsun Xi displayed the full ferocity of the Yue Maiden Sword, while Pei Min’s moves, though seemingly random, were executed with exquisite precision—each one perfectly placed.

After a hundred exchanges, Gongsun Xi’s attacks began to slow. Pei Min, sensing the moment was right, suddenly unleashed a burst of sword light before him. With a push and a flick, his sword flashed and drove straight through.

Gongsun Xi was caught off guard. She had never seen a sword move so fast. She tried to parry, but was a fraction too slow; left with no choice, she met Pei Min’s sword head-on, hoping to deflect the blow.

With a resounding crack, the two swords collided. Her wooden sword could not withstand the force and broke in two, the fragments flying from her hand.

Clearly, Pei Min had anticipated this. That move was unstoppable, his sword filled with tremendous power. Even if Gongsun Xi had held a steel blade, she would not have withstood the force—the energy would have shaken her sword aside all the same.

Staring at Pei Min’s blade, now poised at her chest, Gongsun Xi was stunned. Since her mastery of the sword, she had always found victory easy. Among her peers, none could match her. When she encountered formidable opponents, they were always famed seniors of the martial world. Against such figures, Gongsun Xi had developed her own strategies. The more renowned the opponent, the more they valued their reputation; failing to defeat a young girl quickly became an embarrassment, causing them to grow impatient and unsettled as the fight dragged on. This tactic had never failed her—until today, in Youzhou, where she was defeated by a youth her own age.

Though she conceded defeat in heart and word, she could not help but feel aggrieved, her eyes reddening slightly.

“How is your sword so fast?” Gongsun Xi asked, stubbornness in her voice. Speed had always been her greatest advantage, and now she had been bested at her own game.

Seeing her like this, Pei Min, feeling a touch of masculine pride, thought that defeating a young woman was not particularly glorious. “It’s not that my sword is fast,” he replied, “but that yours was too slow.”