In The Cultivation World, Are There Only Demonesses Left?

Chapter 13: I Have a Sword Technique, Do You Want to Learn It

By the lakeside, people coming and going had already begun hanging lanterns and setting up decorations.

Auspicious red lanterns swayed from the willows at the shore, their reflections scattered upon the water, forming specks of starlight.

Lu Changyuan found himself a small one-entry courtyard.

In fact, it could not be said that he was really looking; rather, just as he arrived at the lakeside, a cheerful wealthy merchant came over and directly rented the courtyard to him.

This merchant seemed to have purchased many houses in advance, waiting for foolish cultivators to come rent them.

According to what he said, in the past few days alone, more than ten courtyards had already been rented out.

Those foolish cultivators were all generous with their money, and as long as they weren’t among the rare few difficult to deal with, he could make a fortune.

For merchants like these, as long as there was profit, they dared to do business with anyone.

Inside the courtyard stood a lonely Buddhist pine.

A gust of wind blew through, and its needle-like leaves fell—yet before they touched the ground, they were lifted again by a gust of sword wind.

Xia Lianxue stared blankly at the scene.

She could not even pierce a falling leaf anymore.

Lu Changyuan dragged over a rocking chair, lay back on it, and yawned: “Just like your Senior Sister, you’re injured, so rest properly. Missing one day of sword practice won’t kill you.”

“One day without practice…”

“You know it yourself, right? Seven days without practice, the sect will know, right? Pointless.”

Lu Changyuan lazily climbed up: “I have a sword technique. Do you want to learn it?”

Xia Lianxue still stared blankly at her own hands, then said with some sorrow after a long pause: “I’ve lost all my mana. How can I cultivate a sword art?”

“What’s so impossible about that? Even a spear without a tip can still stab someone dead.”

Lu Changyuan could not help but think—Qiu Yuehan, that woman, could still crack jokes at the brink of life and death, while Xia Lianxue was much more earnest.

“Give me your sword.”

Xia Lianxue obeyed and handed him the sword, but still said: “I cultivate the Jade Palace’s Thirteen Swords.”

Lu Changyuan said: “Yes, yes, I know. The Jade Palace’s Thirteen Swords, once known as the Feather Moon Sword Technique.”

The Thirteen Swords of the Jade Palace emphasized each strike being higher and stronger than the last.

Stacked one upon another, unbroken like moonlight spreading everywhere, supplemented with the palace’s Moon-Illuminating Method, it was terrifying after a few exchanges.

“I’ll teach you another sword art,” Lu Changyuan said with a smile.

“Since your cultivation is entirely gone now, you cannot practice step-by-step techniques.

The one I’ll teach you is an unorthodox sword art.”

Xia Lianxue looked him over for a while, then asked: “Is it that demonic technique?”

“What are you thinking? It’s not that easy to cultivate.”

Harder than demonic techniques?!

Lu Changyuan suddenly asked: “Your name has ‘Xia’ (Summer) in it. Now, it happens to be midsummer. What do you think ‘Summer’ is like?”

This question stumped Xia Lianxue.

Immortals did not perceive spring or summer.

“Xia Lianxue, oh Xia Lianxue, you have such a beautiful name—midsummer and winter’s snow, combined into balance, the harmony of yin and yang. Why can’t you grasp it yourself?”

Many mortals had thought, in the scorching summer: if only they could borrow some of winter’s chill, wouldn’t it be perfect?

That, too, was a kind of natural Dao.

For the first time, Xia Lianxue felt she was dull-witted, unable to understand.

Yet in truth, the true disciples of the Jade Palace had always thought her sword cultivation was fast—inside the palace, she was only slightly slower than Qiu Yuehan.

How had she suddenly become like a dim-witted goose here?

“The force of Summer is like thunder rising from flat ground—it comes fast, and it passes even faster.”

As Lu Changyuan’s words fell, with his sword lifted, a sudden violent wind surged through the courtyard.

A force rising from flat ground, unrelated to continuity—when it moved, it struck like thunder.

In the clear bright sky, it was as if muffled thunder exploded! Then, wrapped with wind and air, the dust of heaven and earth condensed, and at last transformed into one sword strike.

This was—

The Sword of Crimson Summer.

Though not a shred of mana had been used, he had forcefully cleaved out a wave of air.

Xia Lianxue asked in disbelief: “How did you do that?”

This sword might not even injure a cultivator of the Second Realm, but it was terrifying nonetheless.

Relying purely on insight into the nature of Summer, mingled with momentum—if Xia Lianxue truly mastered it, then with her at the Fourth Realm, she could use it as a desperate strike to reverse-kill a Fifth Realm opponent.

Lu Changyuan tossed the sword back to her: “Think it through yourself. If you can’t, just imitate this one sword of mine. Now that you’ve lost your cultivation, it’s the best time to temper this kind of skill.”

Mortals were more sensitive to spring, summer, autumn, and winter than immortals were.

When cold, they needed to put on clothes; when hot, they sought shade.

From this perspective, mortals could perceive nature more keenly than immortals.

In that one sword, Lu Changyuan displayed every ounce of its “intent” to Xia Lianxue.

“In the past, there were some who, with mortal bodies, honed their skills to the peak. Once they formally stepped onto the immortal path, they became one killing star after another.”

“Sir, then this sword technique… who created it?”

Lu Changyuan’s back stiffened slightly.

He said lightly: “Do you know at what age Daoist Chang’an entered the path?”

“At fifty years of age.”

“This Crimson Summer Sword was created by Daoist Chang’an before he even entered the path—one summer, when he couldn’t find any cooling tea to drink, he comprehended it in a fit of anger!”

Xia Lianxue repeated in confusion: “Cooling tea…?”

Very quickly, she reacted: “Daoist Chang’an’s sword art? Wasn’t Daoist Chang’an a physician before he entered the path?! A physician comprehending a sword technique? Where did you even get this sword art?”

“Some patients don’t listen, so sword techniques are needed to assist in treatment. That’s perfectly normal.”

What kind of physician didn’t know martial arts?

How could you treat illnesses without martial arts?

“As for where the sword technique came from—don’t worry about it. Just practice.”

Teach Summer’s sword in Summer, Winter’s sword in Winter.

Once Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter passed, the Four Seasons Sword would be complete.

Once the sword was mastered, who under heaven could not be killed?

Lu Changyuan yawned, glanced at the sky, muttered something, and returned to his room.

He thought—

Qiu Yuehan had taught a mental cultivation method, Xia Lianxue had taught a sword technique.

When the two fought one day, who would win?

Forget it.

Either way, it would be spectacular!

The interior of the room was not carelessly arranged.

Tea-colored curtains divided the space into an inner and outer room.

In the outer room stood a carved rosewood long table, and beside it a Buddhist couch.

Turning past the curtain, one would face a screen painted with “Magpies Greeting the Spring.” Behind the screen lay the inner bedchamber.

Lu Changyuan removed his shoes, sat on the bed, and drew in breath rhythmically, guiding qi into his body, circulating it within.

Yet it refused to remain, leaking straight out.

He sighed and reversed the circulation.

If it would not work forwards, then try backwards.

Reverse cultivation was also an indispensable path in the cultivation world.

Xia Lianxue leaned against the Buddhist pine, her beautiful eyes complicated.

Her white skirt fluttered with the breeze, her soft hair clung against her cheek, making her seem so fragile it was as if she might be blown away.

How many years had it been since she last felt such powerlessness, unable to kill even with her own hands?  

What she could once easily do was now far out of reach.

She was already losing the courage to even hold a sword.

Xia Lianxue knew clearly she was no longer the immortal fairy revered by thousands.

Perhaps she should give up her delusions, find someone to marry, bear children, and grow old in some nameless corner.  

This thought lasted only an instant.

And in that instant, her heart almost shattered.

Her cultivation… it was countless years, her persistence honed along the stone path in the bamboo forest, where even the bluestones had been worn down by her steps.

But now, those traces had all been erased by the wind.

Then she heard that sentence again: “I have a sword technique. Do you want to learn it?”  

Her Dao heart stopped cracking—temporarily.

That day, when Lu Changyuan had confronted True Person Han Yi on her behalf, and later when he helped her expel the demon, she had been conscious the whole time, only unable to move.

So she knew that Lu Changyuan was very strong.

For someone like that to be willing to teach her personally—how could she not long for it?  

Then what was the price?  

She was only a discarded disciple.

What could she possibly offer? Could it be… her pretty face and body, for him to take and play with at will?