Mysterious Martial Arts: The Record of the Swordsman

Chapter 300 Listening to Spring Rain in a Small Building

Fu Ningdie leaped up like a butterfly flitting among flowers and landed like a swallow carrying mud, arriving at Hong Wending's side in the blink of an eye. Her lightness skill had become even more superb, and her petite body struggled to support his arm to prevent her from falling.

Fu Ningdie placed her palm against her senior brother's lower back, and the scorching energy of the Nine Yang Divine Skill surged forth. Hong Wending closed his eyes and focused his mind, feeling a mighty sun piercing through the clouds and rising within his body. He took a deep breath to suppress the injuries all over his body.

His Heavenly Silkworm was quite extraordinary. As he focused his mind and reversed the Chonglou (a type of internal energy), a long internal energy surged from the bottom of his dantian, quickly twisting into a thick rope that pierced through all the acupoints in his body. His whole body crackled from the inside out, and his body, which had been on the verge of collapse after the fierce battle, was able to fight again.

"Junior sister, what brings you here?"

After a moment, Hong Wending asked gently. Because Fu Ningdie was a head shorter than him, their conversation sounded like a whisper.

Fu Ningdie raised an eyebrow and asked in return.

"What? Senior brother sent that sister to ask for help, and she seized a horse and rushed through the pass, almost running out of breath to get to Xiamei Town. Have you forgotten already?"

Hong Wending smiled slightly, ignoring the teasing, and focused his attention on something else.

"No wonder Master suddenly had the idea to send you to study in town."

As they spoke, the Qing soldiers who had all rushed to the narrow passage where the water gate and the front street met erupted into a noisy commotion, as they tried to rush towards the end of the road side by side.

Blocking the path of the hundred or so Qing soldiers who had landed was a dark-skinned, robust young man. A light drizzle had just fallen, wetting his messy hair, which lay flat and almost covered his eyes.

Two Qing soldiers darted out, each running in opposite directions, while two other Qing soldiers, swords drawn and armored, charged straight at the person blocking their path, clearly waiting for the opponent to falter and reveal an opening.

Two Qing soldiers who took advantage of the situation to escape attracted even more people to look at them from behind. Everyone obviously couldn't figure out how Hu Fei could quickly repel the enemy and catch up with the two men even though he was behind.

Unlike most martial arts masters who would leap up and pursue, Hu Fei seemed to tilt his head slightly, his gaze peeking out from under his disheveled hair. His right hand held a rusty woodcutter's knife pointing diagonally downwards, while his left hand was counting down the five fingers, from one to five, making a fist, then extending his thumb, then his index finger, until all five fingers were fully extended. Then he bent his thumb, then his index finger, and finally his middle finger.

Just as the two Qing soldiers who were besieging them thought their opponent had gone mad, they suddenly realized that his left hand had been withdrawn, and the woodcutter's knife was held gently but firmly in front of them. Then, a tremendous force erupted from their armored chests. Even easier to hear than with their ears was the cracking sound transmitted through their bones. Their breastbones had shattered under the back of the knife and the hilt of the knife, and the excruciating pain overwhelmed their remaining consciousness.

After severely injuring two men with a single slash, Hu Fei did not sheathe his blade. Instead, he used the momentum of the blade to propel himself across the narrow path like a nimble fox. The Qing soldiers only saw a blur before their eyes, and the two men who had almost escaped were paralyzed on the ground, howling with blood streaming from their heads.

The wailing not only caused chaos but also fueled the Qing soldiers' ferocity. A group of them barely managed to form a line and approach. Fallen leaves swirled at the alley's entrance. Hu Fei's knuckles, gripping his sword, turned white. His gaze swept across the approaching Qing ranks like a measuring ruler, his left hand swiftly calculating—three men in a row, five paces apart, the alley only wide enough for two to pass each other, no wind in the street, his sword about two feet long, three breaths from the enemy…

As the leading Qing soldier swung his sword, Hu Fei anticipated the arc and stride of his attack. Instead of retreating, he advanced, his shoulder precisely three inches from the blade's edge as he turned sideways. Simultaneously, he extended his arm a foot, his two-foot-long woodcutter's knife thrust diagonally, the tip aimed precisely at the soldier's wrist pulse point—his calculated blind spot. The instant the soldier's knife hit the ground, Hu Fei had already taken a half-step back, the back of his blade striking and shattering the soldier's arm bone.

The second Qing soldier charged out with a spear, and it struck the back of his sword where he was facing the enemy. The force of the spear was completely neutralized. This was the point of impact of the weapon that he had calculated. The weapon flew sideways, and the enemy staggered backward.

The alleyway became his calculation tool. Hu Fei's every step was caught in the gaps in the Qing soldiers' attack. The rest of the group looked at each other, not daring to move forward. The boy's machete appeared and disappeared unpredictably, always pointing at the gaps in their ranks, as if he had already calculated their next move.

Hu Fei watched the footsteps fading into the alley, his head down so his expression was unreadable. He simply steadied his wood-chopping knife, as if he were calculating how many more hours he could hold out.

Hong Wending glanced around, calculating in his mind seven or eight times, but couldn't find a way to escape or avoid the battle. Moreover, no matter what he did, he would be suppressed by Hu Fei by one or two points—which was already a matter of life and death for a master.

"I never imagined that Brother Hu's swordsmanship had improved so rapidly. His ability to adapt to the enemy's situation has almost reached the level of effortless skill and formlessness!"

Hong Wending exclaimed with genuine admiration and praise. He clearly remembered that Hu Fei had only been taught by Jiang Wen for a little over ten days and was learning a rare and difficult sword technique called "How to Mount Tai". Now, however, he had already mastered it and could use it without any hindrance even with a woodcutter's knife.

What he didn't know was that the secret to Hu Fei's rapid mastery of the skill was something that couldn't be explained to outsiders.

As the most exquisite sword technique of the Taishan School, Daizong almost reached the pinnacle of skill in terms of moves. The only moves that can be called are the sixteen palm techniques derived and calculated with the left hand, which are the specific methods used by the Taishan School's predecessors for strategizing in battle. As for whether to use a knife or a sword, it is insignificant, simply because the Taishan School is only known for its sword techniques.

When Jiang Wen was teaching the sword technique, he told Hu Fei that the flaw of this martial art was that it required extremely high aptitude, while the cultural level of people in the martial arts world was generally low. It required the use of palm techniques to calculate the enemy's location, martial arts school, body length, weapon size, and the height of the sunlight, etc. The calculation was extremely complicated and time-consuming. By the time the calculation was completed, the opponent would often be defeated in one move, or the opponent would change their move, and the calculation would have to be repeated.

Therefore, Jiang Wen made comprehensive improvements and enhancements to this sword technique.

If it takes a very long time, then train hard to improve your calculation speed. It doesn't matter if you can't figure out some parts occasionally. Your opponent's calculations may not be much better. You can't gain any advantage by calculating with your mind unintentionally. If you really don't know, just choose B. He personally tested it and the accuracy rate is extremely high.

The calculations are too complex, so we introduced some elements that are far ahead of their time. For example, we had Hu Fei establish a Cartesian coordinate system in his mind. When calculating, he only needed to calculate the enemy's horizontal and vertical coordinates, and then use the force analysis method to determine factors such as gravitational acceleration and variable acceleration, which greatly shortened the deduction process.

If the opponent changes tactics, then calculate the way to defeat them in one move. As the saying goes, great power can produce miracles. As long as Hu Fei can make the opponent cough up blood and fall to the ground in one move, there will be no problem with changing tactics. Even if the opponent tries to block, they will inevitably fall into a disadvantageous position and step into the trap that Hu Fei has calculated.

Jiang Wen also said that the most lacking aspect of the martial art "How to Mount Tai" is actually the mental cultivation method that complements its moves. Fortunately, he had learned a martial art created by the grandmaster Chen Hegao, and the profound meaning of anticipating the enemy's moves was also applicable here.

Ultimately, the flaw of "How to Determine Mount Tai" lies in its inflexibility in real-world combat. So why not choose special times and occasions where the opponent is also physically challenged or has limited sensory abilities? The fewer factors to consider, the fewer the constraints on this sword technique, and the greater its power. In short, there are no useless martial arts in the world, only mediocre people who don't know how to use them.

If Jiang Wen were to choose, he would choose to have the final battle in places like swamps, cliffs, dark rooms, rainy nights, caves, narrow alleys, or log bridges. He would even set up rolling logs and rocks in advance to break his opponent's legs, and then use Mount Tai as a starting point for a fair and exhilarating duel.

Now, in the darkness, in the narrow alley, amidst the crowds, with only one way out, Hu Fei had clearly memorized what Jiang Wen had taught him.

Shuimen Street was not wide, and the more than one hundred Qing soldiers had blocked the road. They were uneasy to find that the demon-like boy was striding towards them.

"I told you, this road is blocked!"

With his voice strained and his thin lips pressed down, Hu Fei's words revealed nothing but anger and bitterness. Clearly, staying here was also a form of torture for him, except that this torture stemmed from his spirit.

The murderous intent in his mind was gnawing at his consciousness, but Dai Zong forced him to remain absolutely conscious. It was like being given a stimulant and subjected to the torture of insect bites, so much so that what was occasionally revealed under his disheveled hair were a pair of ferocious eyes like those of a wounded beast.

The continuous and prolonged pain kept Hu Fei in a state of extreme excitement, maintaining a delicate balance between demonic and human nature. He deeply understood that the only way to temporarily stop this pain was to crush the enemy before he collapsed. Therefore, the Qing soldiers were horrified to find that this man's face even carried a strange and cruel pleasure...

A rout and stampede were inevitable, but Hu Fei continued his unhurried advance. Any Qing soldier who turned back to flee and lagged even slightly behind him was met with a painful but not fatal blow.

They had heard this tactic from veterans: when the Manchus entered the pass, they liked to use wailing wounded soldiers as bait in front of the battle lines to lure the Ming army into open battle until their morale collapsed.

The vanguard quickly collapsed, causing a bizarre disaster in the rear. Many Qing soldiers were orderly abandoning their ships and disembarking when they discovered a dark mass of people surging towards them from afar. As they drew their bows and prepared to fight the rioters in the city, they found that the group was wearing the same armor as them. They hurriedly trampled the wooden planks used for boarding the ships, overturned the supplies scattered on the ground, and even stepped on their comrades without hesitation, jumping into the icy river with screams of agony.

Seeing that Shuimen Street was empty, Hu Fei trembled and hunched over, putting the woodcutter's knife back at his waist. In the dim light, one could still see Jiang Wen's very thin, crooked inscription on the knife: "Listening to the spring rain all night in a small building".

Hong Wending straightened up, slowly pushed away Fu Ningdie's support, and turned to look at the other end of Chong'an County.

Now that the Qing troops in Linxian County have been confined outside the city and are temporarily unable to interfere with the battle, he began to worry about whether Xiao Shitou, who was fighting alone against the Jingyan Sect, had also encountered an unexpected crisis.

However, he is currently unable to leave to provide support. There is still one last unresolved issue in the chaotic situation in Chong'an County, and even he is not entirely confident in his ability to resolve it.

Fu Ningdie leaped over Hu Fei and waved to Hong Wending at the alley entrance.

"Let's go, senior brother. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We should give it a try."

Hong Wending nodded, clasped his hands in a fist salute to Hu Fei, who stood motionless with his wood-chopping knife in his arms, and then walked across the alleyway toward the East Inspection Office.

…………

Eight Nuo gods, dressed in wide robes and sleeves, wearing masks of Qingxuan Miaodao with a painted face, Feitian Xunyou with a red face, Lingguan Dadi with a white face, and Jinjia Shenjiang with a black face, danced and swayed to the sound of dark drums and gongs in the dark. Sometimes a cold wind blew, and sometimes drums and music resounded, making people's hair stand on end.

The mournful moonlight was fragmented by the clouds, and the short, stout little stone stood before the eight Nuo god corpses like a lump of iron embedded in the ground. The Nuo gods wore painted wooden masks, their fangs painted scarlet, and dark bluish-black corpse spots were visible beneath their hemp robes. Each of them was more than half a head taller than the little stone, and their decaying fingers were forced into eagle claws, making a "click" sound as their joints shifted.

The leading Nuo god suddenly sprang up, his corpse claws digging straight for Xiao Shitou's heart, but he neither dodged nor evaded, instead forcefully blocking with his left arm. With a crisp "clang," the sharp claws broke off at his forearm, as if his arm had long been trained to be harder than refined iron.

Taking advantage of the moment when the Nuo god froze, Xiao Shitou lowered his body and shoulders expressionlessly, like a cannonball, and crashed into the opponent's chest and abdomen. Following the move, the outer layer of mud covering the body broke along with the decaying ribs, and the Nuo god's corpse crashed to the ground, the mask cracking and showing spiderweb patterns.

The remaining seven Nuo god corpses surrounded him simultaneously, some throwing punches at his head, others tripping his ankles. Little Stone shifted his feet, sliding to the side along the leg bone of one of the Nuo gods, his right fist clenched tightly, knuckles turning white, and he immediately unleashed a powerful grappling move, slamming it hard into the back of the opponent's knee.

With a "crack," the Nuo God's corpse staggered and crashed into its companion. Then, the powerful and heavy Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms, specifically the "Regretful Dragon" move, came crashing down from low to high like a tidal wave.

The Jingyan followers were so frightened by the scene that they all took a step back, and the sounds of waving flags, shouting, banging gongs and drums also subsided considerably. They couldn't understand how this child, who had been fighting for half an hour, still had such amazing strength.

The moonlight suddenly brightened, shining on Little Stone's back. A gust of cold wind swept from behind him, and he looked up to avoid the sharp claws that were grabbing at him. He was still a stiff, lunging corpse of the Nuo god.

Unfazed, Little Stone seized the opponent's wrists with both hands, twisting his waist and abdomen to forcefully retract the Nuo God corpse's arm. He then flipped over and straddled the opponent's chest, pounding the mask with both palms like drums. The stench of corpses filled the air, wood carvings flew everywhere, and the dry, toothless face beneath was exposed to the moonlight. Little Stone didn't even blink, smashing the mask on the skull with a final punch, creating a deafening roar, until the Nuo God corpse was completely still.

Jingyan said to Chen Henggui with concern, "Senior Brother, this kid is really troublesome. Even the eight Nuo gods together couldn't do anything to him. We mustn't let him ruin our important plans."

Qiu Jiuzhang also watched intently, but his face showed a confident expression.

"Don't worry, junior brother. No matter how good this kid is at fighting, he's still just a mortal. But he's good at fighting with a fierce aura. Don't be fooled by his appearance."

After speaking, he pointed to the torn parts of Xiao Shitou's clothes, and sneered without saying a word.

Chen Henggui looked around and saw that just now, Xiao Shitou suddenly turned around and blocked with his left arm. With a "whoosh", the Nuo God's fingertip tore his short jacket and left three bloody marks on his waist.

Little Stone was completely unaware. He gripped the other's wrist tightly with his right hand, used his waist and abdomen to swing him up, and slammed him heavily into the leaping Nuo God corpse. As the two corpses collided, they made a dull "thud," and the sound of bones colliding and sticking together was extremely jarring.

Seeing the blood seeping from Xiao Shitou's waist, Chen Henggui finally calmed down. Since the other party couldn't break free from the Nuo God's encirclement and was still just a mortal being who would suffer injuries, it wasn't a big problem.

Just as the leaders of the Jingyan Sect had predicted, even though the Nuo God had been attacked repeatedly, it gradually lost its previous chaos and even adopted a semi-encircling stance.

Even the Nuo god on the ground, whose mask was cracked with a deep line, revealing half of his bluish-black chin, had his arms strangely bent backward as he crawled over, digging at the bluestone with his fingertips, leaving sticky black streaks of gold powder on the ground.

Little Stone, panting heavily, wiped the blood from his side and looked at the approaching Nuo God corpse. His short, stocky figure cast a short, thick shadow in the moonlight. He clenched his fist tightly, the blood and ashes mixed together in his palm. He did not give an inch and suddenly lifted his foot to exert force, continuing the arduous struggle.

"Senior brother, the battle against the Nuo God Corpse is still undecided, and we can't waste our time. I wonder how things are going with the other side of the army?"

Chen Henggui and Qiu Jiuzhang discussed in hushed tones that, from the north of the city to the water gate, there was another long road that bypassed Xilin Temple and could also reach the old county government street and approach the water gate. They had already sent another group of men to outflank the water gate to avoid wasting time. They were determined to seize control of the water gate before dawn and force the county magistrate to give in.

However, this group of people disappeared without a trace, and no one knew what had happened. It was as if everything was swallowed up by the hazy and eerie night.

"It's alright, we can send another team to provide backup. Junior Brother Henggui, send thirty men quickly."

Chen Henggui accepted the order and immediately gathered thirty or forty relatives and friends under his command. Armed with guns and clubs, he headed toward the alleyway, unaware that two of his men had sneakily disappeared at the alley entrance.

Chen Henggui was extremely strong on his feet and had excellent eyesight. He quickly discovered that under the wine shop outside Xilin Temple, forty or fifty strong men in black robes and blue boots had all collapsed on the ground, leaving only a disheveled, toothless old Taoist priest drinking by himself.

The old Taoist priest was drinking cheap wine. After taking a sip, he seemed to have a sore mouth, and he grimaced from the spiciness: "I already told them that this road is blocked."

Chen Henggui was shocked, realizing that this person was an enemy and not a friend. He immediately ordered his men to surround the man and were about to strike him with spears and clubs.

Before the old Taoist priest could put down his wine bowl, dozens of men in black robes and blue boots were already stomping on the cobblestones, their menacing aura mixed with the wind from their sticks.

The leader's staff lashed out at the man's face, but the old Taoist priest slightly flipped his wrist, tilting his wine bowl and spilling the remaining wine. A stream of wine shot out, blinding the man, and then the bottom of the bowl flew out and hit his wrist with a "thud," before the long staff clattered to the ground.

At the same time, he casually picked up an empty jar from the ground, and with a swift motion, he put it over the man's head, twisted his waist and spun around, knocking down two men in black robes who rushed up with him. The jar didn't even break.

The men in black robes and blue boots surrounded them in a circle. The old Taoist priest used his left hand to grab a table to defend himself, and with his right hand, he flicked three chopsticks, which accurately struck the Weizhong acupoints behind the knees of the two men. Their legs went weak and they knelt down.

Someone behind him raised a stick to attack, but the old Taoist priest did not turn around. Instead, he used his fingertips to hold two other pairs of bamboo chopsticks and thrust them back. The chopsticks pierced straight through the opponent's sleeve and embedded themselves in the crack of the rammed earth wall, pinning the person to the spot and making them unable to move.

In the blink of an eye, more than ten members of the Jingyan Sect were defeated and killed. Chen Henggui saw that things were not going well. This iron tower-like butcher picked up a long bench and threw it. He also came to kill with a stick. However, the old Taoist hooked the end of the long bench with his toe and "whoosh" used the bench leg to lift the stick tip. With his other hand, he tore off the wine flag on his head and shook it to wrap around the opponent's arm.

Chen Henggui tried to pull back with brute force, but the old Taoist priest pulled him back with the force, causing him to crash into the beam. Then, the priest picked up a wine pot and rammed it into his lower back, the bottom of the pot hitting the back of his neck. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

After the dust settled, the toothless old Taoist sighed, found a sturdy bench in the pile of junk, put the wine sign under his bottom, picked up the wine pot and started drinking alone again, but his eyes kept looking towards the place where people were talking and drumming.

"Is it really necessary to do this when he's just a child? I really don't know what he's thinking. Am I really wrong?"

He said this last sentence towards the street corner, and another gaunt old Taoist priest also turned out from the street corner and sat down at the table.

“Senior brother, we are struggling to make ends meet, and many of our disciples are dying young. We don’t even have anyone to carry on the lineage. We are ashamed to face our ancestors. Especially you, how could you almost perish at your age?”

The gap-toothed old Taoist said with dissatisfaction: "The martial arts that Master taught me are enough to make me fearless even against a hundred or so people. On the contrary, your Palm Thunder can only deal with demons and evil spirits, but it may not even be able to deal with a rogue."

The gaunt Taoist priest slammed his hand on the table, raising it to reveal four obese and burly men behind him. They stood bare-chested and reclining in the cold wind, grinning foolishly at the street corner, their heads sporting inappropriately large topknots.

"Things are different now. I've never been able to beat you in my entire life, but now I'm not afraid of you anymore."

After saying that, he laughed triumphantly, snatched the wine pot, took a sip, and choked until his face turned red. It took him a long time to finish speaking.

"Ahem... I've known him for years, and I still can't figure out what he's thinking. Chong'an County is riddled with chronic problems. Since he's already made arrangements, let's just stand by and watch for now..."