Everything has a gradual adaptation process.
For example, when Yin Wangzhi first attempted to confess his feelings and was unexpectedly interrupted, he felt choked and frustrated, ready to draw his long knife and engage in a brawl with Zhan Xiaotian.
When the second important moment was interrupted, it was heart-stopping and infuriating; he wished he could just crush Wen Jiu.
By the third time, after finally cultivating a hard-earned atmosphere that was abruptly shattered and finding himself caught in a strange loop orchestrated by his master, he realized he could never seize the initiative.
He had begun to feel confused, then reflect on himself, and finally… he was able to maintain his composure.
Yin Wangzhi calmly looked at his master, his smile gradually becoming false. “A spar?”
Yu Sheng, noticing this, suddenly asked, “What you were going to say just now wasn’t ‘a spar,’ was it?”
Of course, it was not.
Yin Wangzhi steadied himself, gritting his teeth, “No, it was indeed a spar.”
His intuition told him that if he didn’t agree quickly now, he wouldn’t know what strange occurrences might hinder him when he truly wanted to spar next time.
Through these increasingly peculiar conversations, Yin Wangzhi gradually learned to cherish his master’s momentary whims and understood the importance of knowing when to stop.
Yu Sheng stared into his eyes for a moment, nodding with uncertainty.
“Then let’s begin…”
Just as the words left his lips, the dust whisk appeared. In an instant, the previously calm and soft air suddenly became heavy and sharp, pressing in from all directions.
Yin Wangzhi had barely prepared himself when he was suddenly hit with a hard strike at close range, nearly caught off guard. His pupils contracted sharply as he slipped back several feet. He raised his knife to defend himself, filled with both astonishment and helplessness.
What amazed him was that his master, who appeared to be dazed and slightly drunk, was now extraordinarily clear-headed and alert, executing strikes that were steady, precise, and ruthless—showing no sign of being affected by alcohol.
What frustrated him was that his master, who looked serious and composed, had chosen to attack him when he was unprepared, right in the middle of their conversation.
He had heard many tales about how Yu Sheng did not like to follow the rules when he inquired about his master’s true form, but he never expected it to be like this.
Yet, to say he was unfair or unreasonable would be inaccurate; even as he launched his surprise attack, he divided part of his spiritual energy, swiftly spreading it to create a barrier around the hall to prevent any accidental damage to the furniture.
Even that little white creature was kept outside the barrier.
Yu Sheng held the dust whisk, its normally soft and smooth white tip now standing upright, infused with a massive amount of spiritual energy, faintly glowing. It pointed at Yin Wangzhi like a spear, the collision of the yin energy and spiritual energy igniting a dazzling display at their intersection—a stark contrast of black and gold.
“Actually, I’m really not good at sparring or fighting,” Yu Sheng said while continuously increasing his spiritual energy, his hair and sleeves blowing in the wind. He even found the energy to speak. “I’m not skilled in various techniques and I don’t know how to respond, so let’s make it a decisive strike.”
Yin Wangzhi said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed on him, not daring to relax in the slightest.
The overwhelming pressure from the convergence of their powers exploded, almost splitting the space within the barrier in half. From this epicenter, waves of energy surged outward, threatening to reduce everything to dust. It seemed like mere wind, yet it bore down with the weight of a mountain and the force of a raging flood; compared to such terrifying power, even the gravity beneath their feet seemed insignificant.
For a moment, Yin Wangzhi nearly experienced a strange illusion—he felt as though he wasn’t standing on solid ground but was instead suspended in mid-air, pressed against a steep cliff, weighed down by an immense burden, teetering on the brink of a deep abyss.
He finally understood his master’s intention in promptly raising the barrier; it wasn’t just for the safety of his palace but also to protect the entire ghost realm within a hundred miles.
In such a tumultuous situation, it hardly mattered where the fight commenced; it was akin to a great weight falling, whether it landed on flat ground or inside a house, the result would be the same.
His master was earnestly sparring with him—no testing, no hesitating, no looking back.
This realization stirred something within Yin Wangzhi, igniting a flicker of interest in his eyes that shone brightly. That brilliance was unlike the tranquil water reflected in Yu Sheng’s eyes; it resembled the gleam of a cold, sharp weapon—keen and dangerous.
Power surged with intent, the cold and dark yin energy suddenly expanding, no longer merely a defense but beginning to measure strength against strength.
At this point, he was completely unconcerned about when the fight had begun or how to respond to the sudden attack. The ghost realm was rife with danger; after experiencing so many duels, none had ever been initiated with both sides calm, counting to three before striking simultaneously.
A glimmer of appreciation flashed in Yu Sheng’s eyes, indicating that the Ghost King had agreed to a swift resolution. He raised his left hand, lightly resting it on the dust whisk’s handle, applying a bit more force. In an instant, the balance that had tilted slightly in the Ghost King’s favor began to shift back.
It wasn’t that he felt particularly at ease, believing that Yin Wangzhi wouldn’t be engaging in a struggle while simultaneously employing other tricks. Rather, it was after Yin Wangzhi took things seriously that both sides deployed their true abilities; at this point, there was no room for other ploys.
As the saying goes, "One strong move can defeat ten lesser moves."
Logically speaking, attacks that relied on the simplest, most fundamental techniques often didn’t yield great results. However, for many years, Yu Sheng had relied solely on his high cultivation level and ample qi to suppress his opponents, never considering things like conserving energy or improving efficiency. He had been too lazy to use techniques that would make his spiritual energy more durable.
Despite his disdain for complex techniques, a level difference was a level difference; having more spiritual energy meant being more powerful. There was no way around it. If he encountered an opponent of similar cultivation, there would be value in comparing techniques. Relying solely on powerful strikes would not be sufficient for a long-lasting confrontation.
Therefore, this time, he chose to strike first, forcing Yin Wangzhi to resist with the same level of force before he had a chance to react and proposed they fight according to his methods.
Perhaps his prior attempts at persuasion had worked, as Yin Wangzhi appeared to be in a good mood and agreed without hesitation.
Originally, in the ghost realm, the power of all human realm cultivators was subject to a certain degree of suppression; their qi reserves often didn’t recover as easily as they did in the human realm. By agreeing, the Ghost King had essentially given up another advantage.
Yu Sheng smiled, maintaining his force while stepping forward.
It was a small step, but the change it brought was enormous. Amidst the terrifying wave of pressure, it was already difficult enough not to retreat, yet he calmly moved forward.
The tassel of his wand quivered slightly; as he infused it with spiritual power, a strand broke off, disintegrating into ashes before it could even touch the ground.
Yin Wangzhi had keen eyesight and was momentarily taken aback, his expression showing a slight tremor.
This was a sign that his magical weapon was unable to bear the strain. Especially with a personal magical weapon, there was usually a maximum threshold it could withstand; exceeding that threshold would lead to its collapse.
For ordinary cultivators, this kind of situation typically occurred only in life-or-death moments. In many cases, the destruction of a personal magical weapon could even signify the cultivator’s downfall. Magical weapons that could be carried as personal artifacts were often rare treasures that could grow alongside their cultivators and had a higher threshold; they typically wouldn’t suffer damage during ordinary sparring.
But the person before him was no ordinary cultivator; he was Yu Sheng, their master, once known as the astonishing half-immortal Yu Yangzi.
He was someone who didn’t follow rules or stick to conventional tactics, able to retreat into seclusion whenever he wished. That wand of his had likely endured many terrifying trials. If he continued using his techniques like today, the wear and tear would undoubtedly be far worse than that of an ordinary magical weapon, significantly shortening its lifespan.
Yin Wangzhi deduced the reason behind the wand's early signs of impending destruction and couldn’t help but ponder: when his master… was still Yu Yangzi, had he hastily retreated to the Three Realms Cliff because he was burdened by this fragile magical weapon?
One must understand that once a contract was established with a personal magical weapon, it would be linked to its master’s heart. If it were to collapse easily, it would lead to endless consequences.
In the swirling energies of both spiritual and ghostly forces, the light intensified. Yu Sheng seemed to ignore the rapid depletion of his wand, recklessly pouring all his strength into it, inching closer to Yin Wangzhi step by step.
“Don’t back down.”
As if he had guessed Yin Wangzhi’s thoughts, Yu Sheng spoke up just in time, a smile still lingering on his lips. “And don’t get distracted.”
Yin Wangzhi’s expression grew more serious, the tip of his blade trembling.
“To say such a thing while displaying such an expression, Master, is too much.”
He didn’t want to see his master get hurt, nor did he want to lose here.
After a moment, the situation began to shift gradually. As the wand in Yu Sheng’s hand grew thinner, cracks appeared along the wooden handle, and Yin Wangzhi finally took a step back.
“I forgot to mention, my dear disciple,” Yu Sheng said with an innocent smile, “my magical weapon…”
Within the barrier, golden light burst forth, enveloping everything like golden powder and obscuring vision.
It was clear that a victor would soon be determined.
“… doesn’t have a spirit.”
As Yu Sheng’s final words fell, Yin Wangzhi was blinded by the golden light and tightly shut his eyes. Even with them closed, it was hardly different from being open. He stumbled back three steps, horrified.
No spirit meant that even if the magical weapon were completely destroyed, it wouldn’t harm its master.
Yin Wangzhi suddenly swung his long knife, slicing through the golden haze, and endless ghostly energy surged from the heavens into his body, breaking through all barriers from his palm.
Just as the wand finally shattered, falling to pieces at Yu Sheng's feet, the tide of battle reversed once more. The golden light dissipated, and the ghostly energy enveloped the two like dark clouds.
Turning the tables.
“You lost.”
In the suffocating darkness, everything was indistinct. Yu Sheng moved his limbs and felt no discomfort; he was only burdened by a sense of heaviness that left him weak. He heard a low voice close to his ear.
As the barrier collapsed, the stagnant atmosphere began to flow again. On the ground, fragments of the wand remained in their original form, and with a gust of wind, most of them turned to dust.
Then, the corporeal ghostly energy began to dissipate, gradually retreating into Yin Wangzhi, solidifying his form.
Only then did Yu Sheng realize his predicament—he was sprawled on the carpet, pinned down face-to-face by his disciple. After the fierce battle, he looked quite disheveled, his hair and clothes in disarray.
The heaviness he felt throughout his body wasn’t due to a depletion of qi or a lack of spiritual energy in the ghost realm, but rather because he was being pinned down by his disciple. Even lifting a leg felt impossible, as Yin Wangzhi’s legs held him firmly in place, making it futile to try to kick him away.
In this state, it was clear that this was not a battle between protagonists; it was more like a children's brawl, where the victor had to pin down the loser until they admitted defeat before letting go.
Yu Sheng couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Because they were so close, with his arm being held, he turned his head, lifted his chin, and gently rubbed against Yin Wangzhi’s shoulder, soothingly saying, “Alright, alright, Master admits defeat.”
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