Chapter 83: When Sword Control Goes Wrong, Clothes Disappear

There are a million paths in the heavens, but safety comes first.
If you fly the sword improperly, your master will cry two rows of tears.

“Hey, that loyal big bro still remembers you, you know.
Left quite the deep impression on him.”

Xiu Qingcheng knew Lin Yun Chuan’s veiled words were aimed at Meng Yingxing, so she teased her disciple as usual.

Life in the Jintian Nine Provinces was so boring; teasing Meng Yingxing was pretty much her only source of entertainment.

“It’s because of what you said back then, Master… it was too explicit.”

Meng Yingxing sighed helplessly, his shoulders slumping.

“What was explicit about it? That’s all normal knowledge!
If there’s a chance later, I can give you an even more detailed lecture.”

As their relationship grew closer, Xiu Qingcheng no longer held back her former “PhD in adult knowledge” personality.

“Master, that really won’t be necessary!”

Meng Yingxing’s ears flushed red again, instantly embarrassed.

The image of his beautiful master teaching him weird stuff—he didn’t even dare imagine it.

“It’s very necessary!”

Xiu Qingcheng gave a wicked little laugh.

No wonder everyone loved teasing innocent boys.
She was starting to understand—this feeling of “bullying” was just too fun!

Could Meng Yingxing ever turn the tables on her?
Impossible!

“Starting from his age, if I train him properly, I’ll definitely have him eating out of my hand.”

While all sorts of wild ideas bounced around in Xiu Qingcheng’s head, Lin Yun Chuan had already finished his lecture and announced that the junior brothers and sisters could begin practicing on their own.

“Sword flight isn’t difficult. You are all children of genius.
I believe with a little practice, every one of you will succeed.”

At the steward’s direction, everyone lined up with plenty of space between them.

Meng Yingxing took his spot and glanced around.
To his left stood Ye Bobo, the guy with thorns in his eyes.
To his right was an unfamiliar fellow disciple who had already begun trying Lin Yun Chuan’s method.

“Hey, Meng Yingxing, think you can do it?”

Ye Bobo suddenly spoke up, never missing a chance to belittle him.

“From what I saw in your previous fights, your spiritual power usage is crude and unrefined.
Controlling spiritual power properly must be tough for a spiritual-power cripple like you, right?”

“Be careful. When everyone else succeeds and you’re still struggling, don’t embarrass yourself.”

First they called him a cripple, now a spiritual-power cripple.
People who wanted to insult others really could invent the strangest terms—Xiu Qingcheng found it oddly amusing.

“Let’s wait and see.”

Meng Yingxing replied coolly.
He didn’t even spare Ye Bobo a glance.
What surprised him was how quiet his master had gone.

Normally, whenever someone looked down on him, Xiu Qingcheng got more fired up than he did.

‘Master, I’m starting.’

Meng Yingxing informed Xiu Qingcheng, then formed the hand seal and circulated his spiritual power as both she and Lin Yun Chuan had taught him.

Spiritual power gathered into a stream, slowly enveloping the Ting Tian Sword in its sheath.

When Meng Yingxing’s spiritual power wrapped around the Ting Tian Sword, Xiu Qingcheng didn’t feel anything special—just like when he channeled power into her during battle.

In other words, the only time she felt a weird sense of shame was when Meng Yingxing physically touched the sword.

Xiu Qingcheng watched Meng Yingxing exert himself.
The Ting Tian Sword slowly rose from its sheath, hovering unsteadily in midair.

‘Not bad, disciple! You succeeded on the first try.’

Xiu Qingcheng praised him.
Though Meng Yingxing’s control was still shaky—the sword already looked like it might fall.

Even though both she and Lin Yun Chuan had said sword flight was as easy as drinking water, Meng Yingxing still found it strenuous in practice.
He could clearly feel his spiritual power draining rapidly.

He suspected it was because of his constitution—not only did he cultivate slowly, even applying spiritual power felt difficult.

‘Relax, disciple. Don’t overthink it. Everyone struggles at the start.’

Xiu Qingcheng could guess what he was thinking and comforted him carefully.

Meng Yingxing couldn’t help glancing around.

Ye Bobo, who normally used an axe, had brought a sword today.
Under his control, it danced around him like a silver serpent—far better than Meng Yingxing.

The unfamiliar disciple beside him was elegantly flying his sword overhead—also better.

Further away, Mo Lianming merely lifted a finger.
His Wuliang Sword and several other spirit swords spun around him like circus performers—way better.

Xiu Qingcheng fell silent.
One look around, and her disciple really was the worst one here!?

“Junior Brother Meng, are you having some trouble?”

Lin Yun Chuan, who had been walking around giving pointers, suddenly appeared in front of Meng Yingxing, looking puzzled at his struggling control of the Ting Tian Sword.

He had seen Meng Yingxing fly on his sword just yesterday—how was simple hovering so hard now?

Meng Yingxing glanced at Lin Yun Chuan but said nothing.
He knew what the senior disciple was thinking, but he had no way to explain.

“Senior Brother, you may not know this, but Meng Yingxing has been a spiritual-power cripple since he was young.
Controlling a sword with spiritual power is far too difficult for him!”

Ye Bobo spoke sweetly to Lin Yun Chuan, his mockery of Meng Yingxing completely unconcealed.

Lin Yun Chuan glanced back at Ye Bobo.

‘Disciple, leave this to me.’

Xiu Qingcheng suddenly said to Meng Yingxing, shaking off his spiritual power control and slowly sheathing the Ting Tian Sword.

“Master?”

Meng Yingxing was surprised.

“Just stand there and look pretty. Your master will vent for you.”

Ye Bobo was still talking.
“I really think Meng Yingxing is an embarrassment to our Tianfeng Sect. What do you think, Senior Brother?”

“Rise!”

Meng Yingxing’s voice suddenly rang in Ye Bobo and Lin Yun Chuan’s ears.

Ye Bobo laughed.
“Rise? Rise what? Meng Yingxing, still pretending—”

Before he finished, he and Lin Yun Chuan looked toward Meng Yingxing—and Ye Bobo froze.

Meng Yingxing formed a hand seal.
Spiritual power surged around him.
The Ting Tian Sword trembled and shot out of its sheath!

The instant it unsheathed, it tore through the air with a sharp hum.

Accompanied by that whistling sword cry, the Ting Tian Sword danced wildly around Meng Yingxing, so fast it left trails of sword shadows.

Lin Yun Chuan smiled at the sight.
This was no beginner’s control—it perfectly matched his impression of Meng Yingxing’s sword flight.

With such a grand display, everyone else stopped practicing and turned to watch.

Ye Bobo felt each stare like a slap to the face.

Mo Lianming watched the swirling sword shadows around Meng Yingxing, a spark igniting in his usually calm eyes.

He raised a finger.
The Wuliang Sword and several spirit swords that had been circling him suddenly merged into one and shot toward Meng Yingxing.

Meng Yingxing’s gaze shifted.
Mo Lianming’s flying swords were already upon him.

As they closed in, the Ting Tian Sword’s speed exploded.
In a flash, it sliced through Mo Lianming’s swords—

The next instant, the spirit swords shattered.
The Wuliang Sword flew back and stabbed into the ground at Mo Lianming’s feet.

Mo Lianming pulled the Wuliang Sword free.

“Meng Yingxing, your sword control doesn’t seem inferior to mine.”

“Next time, let’s have a proper contest of sword flight.”

The fire in Mo Lianming’s eyes burned brighter.

Meng Yingxing looked at Mo Lianming, unsure what to say.

Because right now, it wasn’t him controlling the Ting Tian Sword—Xiu Qingcheng was moving on her own.
He was just following orders and putting on an act.

Shattering Mo Lianming’s swords only solidified everyone’s belief that Meng Yingxing’s victory in the Divine Armory Trial hadn’t been luck—he truly had strength.

They used to call him a cripple.
They’d been blind.

Aside from his low cultivation, there was really nothing left to mock about Meng Yingxing.

The Ting Tian Sword spun in midair, then suddenly twisted.
As if slipping from Meng Yingxing’s control, it shot straight toward Ye Bobo.

“Watch out!”

Lin Yun Chuan reacted first.
He shouted and sent his own sword to intercept the Ting Tian Sword.

But just before the two swords clashed, the Ting Tian Sword shifted ever so slightly, slipping past Lin Yun Chuan’s blade and piercing the ground right behind Ye Bobo’s ear!

Ye Bobo froze in terror.
His own sword fell from his limp hand.

Strands of his hair, sliced by the Ting Tian Sword, fluttered down.

“Meng Yingxing, what the hell are you doing!?”

Ye Bobo snapped out of it, his fear turning to rage as he pointed and cursed.

Meng Yingxing opened his mouth innocently.
“It’s my lack of skill—I can’t control my sword properly.
You know how it is, right?”

“So, really sorry about that, Brother Ye Bobo.
You won’t hold it against me, will you?”

He shrugged, the picture of innocence.

Ye Bobo was about to explode—

RRRRIP!

With the sound of tearing fabric, his disciple uniform instantly shredded into strips!

Ye Bobo stared in shock at his now barely-covered body, swallowing every word he was about to scream.

Dead silence fell over the crowd.
Then, a moment later, explosive laughter erupted.

They laughed.
They mocked.
They pointed at Ye Bobo, clothed in nothing but rags.

In a corner no one could hear, the Ting Tian Sword stuck in the ground shook with glee.

This was what you got for looking down on her disciple!