The stone table in the courtyard was moved aside, clearing enough space for the two to spar.
Since it was a contest of sword arts, it was naturally unlikely they would use the advantage of spiritual power brought by their realms. But Jiang Lu felt that with his understanding of the Huiyuan Sword Art, instructing this Senior Brother Gu would be more than enough.
After all, he was quite confident in his talent for techniques and martial arts.
Moreover, looking at Senior Brother Gu's performance, even if he had settled down to practice the sword art, it had been at most half a month. There were no traces of other techniques in his sword path; it was very pure. And his own understanding of the Huiyuan Sword Art was already quite deep. Coupled with his extensive reading, allowing him to skillfully integrate the advantages of other sword arts into it, instructing a beginner should be a piece of cake.
Of course, Jiang Lu wouldn't use his understanding of other techniques to bully a beginner. After all, the purpose of this trip was "correction," not "sparring." He only needed to bring out his purest understanding of the Huiyuan Sword Art to point out his Senior Brother's errors.
Thinking of this, Jiang Lu picked up a wooden practice sword, bowed to Gu Chengming from a distance, and said in a deep voice: "Senior Brother, please."
Gu Chengming also held a sword in hand and returned the bow.
Jiang Lu made the first move. A form called "Sparse Shadows Slanting Across"—the sword tip tapped lightly, like a dragonfly touching water, aiming straight for the opening in Gu Chengming's chest. This move was the opening stance of the Huiyuan Sword Art, emphasizing speed, precision, and lightness, intended as a probe.
Gu Chengming didn't dodge or evade. He met it with the same "Sparse Shadows Slanting Across." The two wooden swords touched lightly in the air, making a crisp clack.
Jiang Lu flicked his wrist, and the sword momentum changed instantly, turning the thrust into a slice, sliding down along Gu Chengming's blade, aiming straight for his wrist. This was a standard follow-up variation, intended to force the opponent to withdraw their sword to protect themselves, thereby seizing the initiative.
However, Gu Chengming's sword didn't retreat. His blade seemed to be coated with glue, sticking tightly to Jiang Lu's sword. It sank along with the opponent's slicing momentum, and with a slight sway of the tip, he actually struck later but arrived first, also pointing towards Jiang Lu's wrist.
'Paying him back in his own coin.'
Jiang Lu raised an eyebrow, thinking to himself, 'Interesting.' He flipped his wrist, withdrew his sword to defend, and at the same time shuffled his feet. His figure drifted away like willow catkins, opening up distance from Gu Chengming.
"Senior Brother, your sword is too sticky."
Jiang Lu commented:
"The value of the Huiyuan Sword Art lies in detachment. If a strike misses, one should retreat far away. Fighting in such a tangled manner loses the true meaning of the sword art."
Saying so, he pressed forward again, unfolding his sword moves. Every strike was the essence of the Huiyuan Sword Art. His sword path was cold and swift, every strike stopping just at the right point, laying a sparse but leak-proof net around Gu Chengming.
Gu Chengming seemed not to hear his words, continuing to use that set of "clingy" sword techniques.
When Jiang Lu's sword thrust came, his sword went to meet it—not seeking to block, but only to stick. When Jiang Lu's sword sliced, his sword followed the momentum down, wrapping around like a vine.
At first, Jiang Lu was handling it with ease. He even deliberately slowed down, using the same moves as Gu Chengming to "correct" him, trying to make him understand what true "cold detachment" was.
But who would have thought that the more they fought, the more wrong it felt.
Gu Chengming's sword art was like a spiderweb tightening around him. Every one of his strikes seemed to be easily neutralized by Jiang Lu, but that thick, sticky sword intent permeated through in wisps, causing Jiang Lu's movements to unconsciously slow by a fraction, lag by a hair.
This split-second lag wasn't noticeable at first. But as the number of exchanges increased, this tiny disadvantage began to accumulate continuously. Jiang Lu gradually felt that his sword seemed to be stuck in a quagmire; every swing took a bit more effort than before.
He began to feel that his will exceeded his strength.
It was supposed to be a relaxed session of guidance, but after exchanging more than thirty moves, Jiang Lu was horrified to discover that without realizing it, he had fallen into an absolute disadvantage.
'I... I'm actually being completely outmaneuvered?'
Only now did Jiang Lu suddenly realize that the opponent's seemingly clumsy "lovesick entanglement"—every stick, glue, and wrap—was silently accumulating an advantage. He dissolved the sharpness in Jiang Lu's sword moves, disrupted the rhythm of his attacks, and limited his space to maneuver. These tiny advantages gathered together had already formed a pressure that was hard to ignore.
Jiang Lu gritted his teeth secretly. 'I can't go on like this!'
With a thought, his sword path changed abruptly. Within the originally cold and detached Huiyuan Sword Art, a trace of fierce killing aura suddenly appeared. This was a technique he had comprehended from another high-level sword art of the sect, the Startled Swan Sword. His sword momentum suddenly accelerated, attempting to use absolute speed to tear through Gu Chengming's sticky net.
The duel had reached a point where both of their sword techniques were vastly different from the Huiyuan Sword Art that Jiang Lu had initially understood.
Jiang Lu originally thought that once he showed his true skill, he could at least recover some of his disadvantage.
Who would have thought that his fierce strike would only make Gu Chengming pause for a moment?
In the next instant, those endlessly clingy sword moves responded like maggots on a bone. Moreover, the "clinginess" this time became even more tricky, even harder to shake off.
If one said that the originally cold and detached sword moves were naturally weak against a clingy style, that would still be understandable. But right now, he had already changed his moves; why could he still not stop the opponent from "clinging" to him?
Jiang Lu was horrified. He felt that no matter how he changed his moves—whether his sword path was fast or slow, hard or soft—the opponent could always find a just-right way to stick to, drag down, and dissolve his sword momentum, continuing that endless entanglement.
At this moment, Gu Chengming was completely immersed in his sword moves. His eyes were bright, his mind highly focused. Every swing of the wooden sword in his hand resonated wonderfully with the constantly jumping Affection notifications for the [Huiyuan Sword Art] on the panel.
Jiang Lu retreated steadily, beads of fine sweat seeping from his forehead, barely holding on.
He felt suffocated to the extreme. Clearly, in terms of strength and speed, he hadn't lost much to the opponent. If Gu Chengming chose to clash with him head-on, he wouldn't necessarily end up in such a wretched state.
But the opponent just wouldn't fight him head-on. He simply used those endless entanglement and evasion moves to constantly wear down his sharpness and patience, making him unable to exert his strength, frustrated enough to vomit blood.
'No, I can't go on like this!'
Jiang Lu knew that if he continued to be manipulated like this, defeat was inevitable.
A trace of determination flashed in his eyes. Acting decisively, he shouted loudly, seizing the instant when Gu Chengming had just swung his sword and his old strength was spent but new strength had not yet been generated. He poured all his strength and spirit into the tip of his sword. The wooden sword in his hand let out an overwhelmed buzz as he stabbed towards Gu Chengming's chest with an indomitable resolve!
This strike condensed the insights of his years of hard cultivation; it was the summary of his experience in the Way of the Sword. It was the most stunning strike he could unleash at this moment.
'This is my strongest technique! I am risking everything on this one strike!'
However, just as he thrust his sword, Gu Chengming opposite him seemed to have anticipated this long ago. The originally clingy sword path suddenly changed.
He didn't dodge, didn't block. Instead, he also thrust his wooden sword forward, meeting Jiang Lu's desperate strike head-on!
The moment the two swords crossed, Jiang Lu finally saw it clearly.
He saw what was contained behind Gu Chengming's seemingly ordinary strike.
It wasn't pure strength, nor was it exquisite technique.
It was an invisible yet incomparably heavy "Momentum" accumulated from the very first move through countless sticks, tangles, wraps, and evasions.
This "Momentum" was like rivers flowing into the sea, like a hundred streams returning to one source.
It contained all of Jiang Lu's previously dissolved sword moves, all his worn-down sharpness, all his disrupted rhythm. Every concession and every entanglement Gu Chengming made before was like adding a drop of water to this great momentum.
And now, this brilliant momentum formed by countless drops of water finally poured down!
Jiang Lu felt that the wooden sword in his hand hadn't hit another sword, but a towering mountain pressing down on him, a surging, monstrous wave! That pressure—heavy, vast, irresistible—made him feel a sense of insignificance and powerlessness from the depths of his soul.
His proud, stunning strike was as fragile as a withered twig in the face of this brilliant momentum.
Clang!
A loud noise. Jiang Lu felt a violent shock in the web of his thumb. An irresistible, immense force transmitted from the sword body. He could no longer hold on; the wooden sword flew out of his hand, drawing a parabola in the air before landing on the grass in the distance.
The cold sword tip stopped in front of his neck, not a hair's breadth away.
Gu Chengming's calm voice rang out in the courtyard.
"Junior Brother, you lose."