Chapter Fifty-Seven: After One Sword, the Dust Settles

After the silence, a deafening uproar erupted!

"How is that possible!"

"The Spirit Sea Realm... actually lost?"

"That strike... I didn't even see it clearly!"

The disciples of Mount Shu were stunned at first, then burst into thunderous cheers. The sect leader and several elders of Mount Shu were moved to tears, overwhelmed with excitement.

On the Sword Debate Platform, Ling Qingzhu slowly sheathed her sword. Her face was a little pale; it was clear that strike had exhausted all her strength and spirit.

"You've lost," she said calmly, looking at the Son of Kunlun.

His face alternated between green and white, his eyes full of disbelief and humiliation. He could not understand how he could have lost. That sword strike from her seemed to contain some supreme principle of heaven and earth, leaving him utterly defenseless.

"I..." He opened his mouth but could not utter a word.

"Young master!" The four guardians of Kunlun appeared on the platform in a flash, shielding the Son of Kunlun behind them, fixing Ling Qingzhu with fierce, wary stares.

"What now? Can Kunlun not accept defeat?" The leader of Mount Shu stepped forward with the elders, confronting Kunlun head-on, refusing to yield an inch.

A greater conflict seemed imminent.

"Enough! Stand down!" The Son of Kunlun finally found his voice. He pushed aside the guardians, fixing Ling Qingzhu with an unwavering gaze. "I lost. Kunlun admits its defeat!"

Though proud, as the heir to a top sect, he still maintained dignity. In front of the entire ancient martial world, he would not stoop to dishonor.

"But I don't understand," he asked in a low voice, "what was that sword strike?"

Ling Qingzhu glanced in the direction of the hotel, a glimmer of gratitude and respect in her eyes, before answering softly, "It was the Way, and it was the Sword."

With that, she ignored the crowd and turned to leave the Sword Debate Platform.

By then, Yi Yi and I had already slipped away from the hotel the moment Ling Qingzhu drew her sword.

"Father, Sister Qingzhu is amazing!" Yi Yi exclaimed excitedly in the car.

"It was her own strength," I replied with a smile. "I merely wiped the dust from the pearl, allowing her to shine with her true brilliance."

We thought the matter was settled, and we could continue our westward journey.

But as we left the small town, driving along the highway to the next district, a black SUV caught up from behind and signaled for us to stop.

The door opened, and to our surprise, it was the Son of Kunlun.

He had changed out of his white robes into an ordinary jacket, his arrogance much subdued, replaced by a complex curiosity.

He walked straight to our window, his gaze passing over Yi Yi and settling on me.

"Junior Yuan Hao of Kunlun greets you, senior," he said respectfully, bowing deeply.

I did not get out. I looked at him calmly. "What do you want with me?"

Yuan Hao took a deep breath and spoke sincerely, "I know that Ling Qingzhu defeated me today thanks to your guidance. The Dao resonance in her sword was something I have never heard or seen before. I… I wish to ask for your enlightenment."

He was very astute. From the dramatic change in Ling Qingzhu before and after the battle, and her final glance at the hotel, he deduced there must be a master behind her transformation. Such a transformation could not have come from anyone in Mount Shu. A little investigation was all it took for him to fix upon our seemingly ordinary father and daughter as the ones who had entered the room with her.

"Why do you seek enlightenment?" I asked in return.

"Because my Way has reached its end," Yuan Hao replied, pain and confusion clouding his eyes. "I have always believed myself gifted. My cultivation journey has been smooth, reaching the Spirit Sea Realm. Yet now I feel surrounded by fog, unable to advance further. Losing to Ling Qingzhu made me realize that my so-called 'Spirit Sea' may have been misguided from the start."

He could see the root of his path’s problem from a single defeat—a rare quality, indeed.

I regarded him silently for a moment.

"Get in," I said. "We happen to be heading to Crescent Spring to enjoy the sights."

A flash of joy appeared in Yuan Hao’s eyes, and without hesitation, he got into our car.

I did not immediately answer his question. I started the car and drove on.

The black SUV remained by the roadside, and Yuan Hao’s figure soon disappeared from the rearview mirror. Our car now had a silent guest.

Yi Yi, sitting in the back, studied the Son of Kunlun with curiosity. Yesterday he had been haughty and unapproachable; today he sat upright, as obedient as a schoolboy.

The car sped smoothly down the vast highway across the Gobi. Outside the window stretched endless yellow plains; the sky was a crystal blue, with the occasional eagle circling above. The vastness and solitude had a way of calming even the most restless heart.

"Senior," Yuan Hao could not hold back and was the first to break the silence. "May I ask, is the path above the Spirit Sea the condensation of the Golden Core?"

His question was direct, and it struck at the heart of the matter. This was the puzzle that plagued all the top experts of the ancient martial world. They could sense a road ahead, but an invisible barrier kept them at bay, impossible to break through.

"It is, and it is not," I replied, hands on the steering wheel, eyes ahead.

Yuan Hao was taken aback, confusion in his eyes.

I continued, "You call the peak of Foundation Establishment the 'Spirit Sea,' because the true energy in the dantian is vast as the sea. But this name itself is a deviation."

"A deviation?" Yuan Hao was even more puzzled. "Isn't it right that true energy gathers from streams into rivers, then opens up the dantian and becomes the Spirit Sea? This is the theory handed down for a thousand years in Kunlun, and accepted by the entire ancient martial world."

"Then tell me, is your sea a living sea, or a dead one?" I countered.

He was stumped.

"Your sea is merely an accumulation of power—a water without source, a tree without roots," I said, glancing at him. "You only know how to expand, to make the sea larger and more imposing, but never ponder what a sea truly is. So, your sea, though it appears turbulent, is hollow within and will collapse at the slightest touch. Ling Qingzhu’s sword did not shatter your power; it pierced through the emptiness of your 'Way.'"

A long silence fell inside the car.

Sweat beaded on Yuan Hao’s forehead. My words were like a heavy hammer, smashing everything he once took pride in. He had always believed power was everything—that if his sea was vast enough, he could drown all opposition. Only yesterday did he realize that a single sword could part his sea.

"Then... what is the true path?" His voice trembled, almost imperceptibly.

I did not answer directly, but pointed to a streak of green on the horizon ahead.

"We’re almost there. You must find the answer for yourself."