Heaven Official's Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu (Novel) Vol. 2(55)

When the white light cooled and slowly faded away, Xie Lian finally saw what had flown in to block them: a sword.

His eyes slowly widened, and his pupils shrank.

The sword was long and slender, embedded deep in the ground on a slant. The body of the sword itself was still quivering from impact. Its blade was deep and foreboding, forged from what looked like black jade, smoother than a mirror—and if anyone were to approach, they could see their own reflection within it. The blackness was disrupted by a thin, silver-white line running vertically down the heart of the blade; it cut the blackness in half, like a ray of sweet love.

The name of this sword was Fangxin.

A figure landed in front of the sword and said, “This is your sword.”

After the death of the State Preceptor Fangxin, the sword he carried was kept by the Crown Prince of Yong’an. The one who had thrown the sword Fangxin and blocked their path was none other than Lang Qianqiu.

It would appear that though Feng Xin and Mu Qing had failed, Lang Qianqiu managed to roll the right numbers. It really couldn’t be said whether it was because of his luck or Xie Lian’s misfortune. The only thing that could be said with certainty was, of the two crown princes, Lang Qianqiu had always been the more fortunate.

Hua Cheng stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He moved slightly, but Xie Lian immediately stretched out his hand to stop him.

He said in a low voice, “Let me.”

Lang Qianqiu blocked the road, their only path through the heart of the valley. “Duel me. No matter how it ends, even if I die at your hand, I won’t ask for any reparations, and I don’t need you to ask the Emperor for banishment either.”

Anyone could tell that until his demands for this fight were satisfied, he would never rest.

After a long pause, Xie Lian finally nodded his head slowly.

“Fine.”

He took a few steps forward and approached the sword, gripped the hilt, and pulled it from the debris.

“You asked for this,” he said softly.

After hundreds of years, Fangxin had finally returned to his hands, and it moaned softly in Xie Lian’s grip. Standing close by, Hua Cheng’s eye also flashed sharply at the sound of that sword’s incessant cry.

With sword in hand, Xie Lian swung and pointed it to the ground before saying coolly, “However this duel ends, do not regret it.”

“I won’t!” Lang Qianqiu shouted.

Lang Qianqiu was so tense it felt like his head was going to split. Both his hands clutched his greatsword tightly, his eyes focused, his breath held; his sight was locked onto Fangxin—the sword that was black as jade—not daring to be careless for even a moment.

Xie Lian took a sudden step and lunged forth. Lang Qianqiu’s eyes focused, ready to strike, when his body froze. It was as if he had been suddenly trussed up, and he fell heavily to the ground.

He looked down to find that he really was bound! A snow-white silk band had come out of nowhere and wrapped around his body several times like a venomous snake!

Lang Qianqiu had been taught swordsmanship by the State Preceptor Fangxin ever since he was young, and he revered the man deeply. This was why the moment Xie Lian gripped his sword, all of his attention was on him and his movements. He never noticed the white silk band that snuck behind to ambush him. How could there be such a shameless trick up his sleeves?!

Seeing that Ruoye succeeded, Xie Lian instantly relaxed his tense expression and fretful heart. He tossed Fangxin aside and heaved a long sigh, wiping away his sweat.

“Phew, that was close.”

Lang Qianqiu lay on the ground struggling to break free. He didn’t know how vicious that white silk band could be, and the more he struggled, the tighter it bound him. He cried angrily, “State Preceptor, what is this?! Let me go and fight me to the death!”

Xie Lian wiped sweat from his forehead and replied, “We already fought to the death. The thing that’s binding you is one of my spiritual devices. You already lost.”

Lang Qianqiu was incredulous. “How can this count? When I said ‘fight to the death,’ obviously I meant using a sword! If you’re a man, use a sword! Ambushing me with a white bandage? How despicable!”

He genuinely thought the sword was the best of all weapons and wasn’t thinking much about his words, but he sounded like a male heavenly official who was prejudiced against another male heavenly officials using white silk bands: he was insulting Xie Lian for not being a man. But Xie Lian didn’t care whether he acted like a man or not. He’d cross-dressed before, and he’d hung the words “I can’t get erect” on his lips. Nothing could get to him.

Xie Lian knelt down next to Lang Qianqiu. “You were simply unprepared. You never said I had to use a sword, so I used your loophole. Who are you gonna tell? Ambush is a battle tactic; cunning well used is called intelligent strategy. If your opponent had been anyone else, you would already be dead.”

Hua Cheng stood not far from the two and huffed a soundless laugh. But Lang Qianqiu was shocked to his core.

When this man was still the State Preceptor of Yong’an, he’d always taught him about being honorable and conscientious: press forward with indomitable will and make an all-out effort. He’d never thought there’d be a day he’d hear such words from the lips of his once-teacher. He was dumbfounded.

“State Preceptor, you’ve changed so much. You weren’t like this in the past.”