Nenhum dos Quatro Desastres é Normal

“Watch closely. This is how Huashan swordsmanship is used.”

Beside the pool beneath the Cliff of Reflection, Wang Jingyuan was brandishing a treasured sword clearly made by a master craftsman.

Golden Geese Crossing the Sky, Blue Pines Greeting Guests, White Rainbow Piercing the Sun—one by one, the most standard forms of Huashan swordsmanship were unfolded. His opponent, Yue Lingshan, who was feeding him moves, simply flicked her long sword and neatly took every one of his attacks.

Yue Lingshan’s delicate brows were tightly knit, her little face scrunched into a knot, as though she had just bitten into a very sour apricot.

What troubled her was not that Wang Jingyuan’s swordplay was mediocre. On the contrary, he had only recently begun learning; for someone so new to the sword to wield it this correctly was already most unusual.

Besides, the core of Huashan swordsmanship lay in directing the sword with inner force. Without the support of true energy, its power was greatly diminished.

What truly vexed her was that he did not use the forms in any proper sequence at all, causing the transitions between them to be stiff and awkward, with noticeable pauses.

And during those pauses, he would use his free hand to wave, flick, and make all sorts of meaningless gestures, making the flaws in his posture even more fatal.

And with all that, he still had the nerve to tell her, “This is how Huashan swordsmanship is used.”

Yue Lingshan stared at his hand as it swaggered before her again, then finally could not endure it any longer. S