Chapter 165: Passive-Style Hero Saves the Beauty

“The Wandering Light Sword indeed lives up to its reputation.”

Tang Jian, the senior disciple of the Taiyue Sword Sect, clasped his hands in a salute, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“You flatter me, Senior Brother Tang. Your swordsmanship is truly exquisite,” Lin Feng replied, clasping his hands with a courteous smile, seemingly oblivious to the taunt.

This made Tang Jian’s expression darken further. He felt Lin Feng was mocking him right back.

“Relying on a divine weapon for victory is hardly the mark of a true hero,” a Taiyue disciple couldn’t help but jeer loudly.

In the eyes of onlookers, the duel between Lin Feng and Tang Jian was fairly standard. Lin Feng maintained his usual steady composure, making it seem like they were equally matched, with Lin Feng only barely prevailing in the end.

In reality, Lin Feng had completely dictated the flow of the fight, subtly smoothing out the rough edges of his own sword art.

Chen Xiyi, observing from the side, seemed to have noticed something remarkable about Lin Feng’s swordsmanship.

He watched the duel with intense focus.

‘He’s no longer bound to set forms… victory through formlessness?’ A strange thought occurred to Chen Xiyi: it seemed like Lin Feng was gathering the strengths of numerous sword styles to create something new.

“I am ashamed; it was indeed the sword’s advantage. Shall we call it a draw?” Lin Feng offered a way out without trying to explain.

Hearing this, the Taiyue disciples visibly relaxed.

“Brother Lin, please ignore my junior brother’s words. You rightfully earned the Wandering Light Sword at the Sword Distribution Conference, of course you would use it.” Since Lin Feng offered an olive branch, Tang Jian couldn’t very well continue to be rude. He immediately tried to elevate Lin Feng’s status.

Tang Jian figured: Lin Feng was the Sword Distribution Conference champion, and he’d just fought him to a draw. Spread the word, and it would instantly boost his own reputation, as if his strength had reached that championship level.

Unfortunately, Tang Jian didn’t realize that Lin Feng managed to eke out narrow victories like this against everyone. He was basically the wuxia version of Captain America, the sword-fighting Kakashi.

As everyone piled on the praise (“the flowered sedan chair being lifted by all”), Lin Feng naturally played along, chatting lightly without concern.

He buttered Tang Jian up so thoroughly the latter became utterly lost in his own hype.

By the time Tang Jian snapped out of it, he found people practically calling him the top genius of their generation. Unable to bear it any longer, he finally found a polite way to shoo them away.

Why would he invite them to stay? They had come to challenge his school, and he had lost. If not for Lin Feng’s eloquence and social grace, another confrontation was likely.

Walking down the mountain, Chen Xiyi clicked his tongue ruefully. “What a loss. Just a few words of flattery, and you managed to sell the entire Taiyue Sword School’s techniques right out from under them. Didn’t know you had that in you.”

Lin Feng had drawn out the duel, mirroring Tang Jian’s speed and pressure until the latter had unwittingly displayed every single swordsmanship form the Taiyue Sect possessed. Lin Feng had copied them all.

Chen Xiyi had memorized them too.

Even later, amidst the pleasantries, Lin Feng subtly guided discussions about swordsmanship, discreetly extracting key insights and crucial secrets. It was a level of cunning totally at odds with the typical protagonist trope.

The standard protagonist, doubted like that, would launch into a showy display of power, slapping faces left and right. Lin Feng, however, played a much sneakier game.

“Everyone got what they needed,” Lin Feng commented. “He wanted the prestige; I wanted the substance. How much did you pick up?”

“I could probably mimic the forms well enough,” Chen Xiyi said. “But only the basics. Their standardized stances and movements are quite effective for physical conditioning. Though, my analysis suggests they’re missing some crucial medicinal tonics. Training like that without proper reinforcement would likely harm the body.”

As a weak Qi Refiner, a doctor only fit for arguing, and after having his System perform a hundred-fold accelerated simulation of human physiology, Chen Xiyi concluded the training was effective, but fundamentally incomplete.

“The foundational set of ‘Three Taiyue Swords’ isn’t bad. You could practice it,” Lin Feng said. “I can brew the required medicines in a few days.” His meaning was clear: Go ahead and try; I’ll support you.

“The ‘Three Taiyue Swords’ is a decent entry-level sword art. It works most muscle groups and bones effectively, strengthening them,” Chen Xiyi analyzed, comparing it to his own knowledge. “But it’s useless for me.”

Under the continuous strengthening of innate Gang Qi coursing through his veins, his physique had long since transcended human limitations. While punching himself could still deplete his own health bar, that wasn’t because he was weak – it was because he was wearing the Mighty Elephant bracer!

“Hmm. Got it. So you’re focusing on combat techniques now?” Lin Feng didn’t ask why.

“Not exactly. I’m designing a combat model. Aiming to replicate the effects of the Solitary Nine Swords and the Predictive Swordplay – breaking any attack and foreseeing the enemy’s moves.”

Lin Feng hesitated before asking, “Could you describe these two sword arts?”

Chen Xiyi had no problem explaining them briefly, even reciting a passage – something about “Returning Maiden heads towards Reckless, Reckless shifts towards Fellows Man…” The more he recited, the stranger it felt. Wasn’t this essentially the working pattern of a biological computer?

“I can’t follow. It’s too complicated.” Lin Feng shook his head after listening.

“I don’t really understand it either,” Chen Xiyi admitted. “But that won’t stop me from building the combat model.” His model wasn’t about personally mastering the Solitary Nine Swords. It was based on collecting vast amounts of combat data. Actually mastering such a concept would require immense theory, practice, and years of ingrained reflexes – a possibility, but far from his current method.

Lin Feng didn’t understand the Solitary Nine Swords or the concept of a ‘combat model’, but he grasped the core of what Chen Xiyi was attempting.

As they walked, a sudden cry pierced the air.

“Help! Heeelp!”

Neither paused their step, acting as if they hadn’t heard.

“Aren’t you going to save her?” Chen Xiyi asked curiously.

“Are you?” Lin Feng shot back.

“Damn, you’re breaking the script! It’s definitely a woman’s voice! Hero saves beauty, beauty offers herself – doesn’t that tickle your fancy?”

“Nope. Women slow down my sword-draw. Why don’t you go? Hero saves beauty, beauty offers herself?”

“Nah. Only handsome heroes trigger the ‘offer myself’ path. Average looks like mine just get hit with ‘serve you loyally in my next life’. Can’t be bothered wasting time on that plotline.”

They picked up their pace, ignoring the distant cries completely.

“Oh hell, she’s chasing us. You handle her – go back and poke her with your sword,” Chen Xiyi urged as the cries grew irritatingly closer.

“Okay… Wow! RUN!” Lin Feng started to agree, but glanced back and saw a large crowd. Panic changed his ‘Okay’ to ‘RUN!’.

“Aren’t you the Sword Distribution Conference champion? Turn back and thrash them! Why run?!”

Chen Xiyi talked tough, but his feet kept pace effortlessly with Lin Feng’s powered dash involving light-footed techniques and complex footwork.

Lin Feng rolled his eyes. “Twenty-plus people! Including two Postnatal Warriors! Can’t win.” He was a genius, sure, but fighting two Postnatal Warriors backed by a squad of Body Forging Warriors? That was impossible. A supernaturally tough genius might manage, but that kind of expert would still be secluded in hard training, not traveling yet.

“Alright then, let’s just stand at the side of the road. They’re not after us, after all,” Chen Xiyi offered a highly practical suggestion.

Lin Feng considered this surprisingly logical advice for a moment. “Deal.”

Having reached this sensible agreement, they promptly stepped off the path and stood by the roadside. Their calm lasted only until the sound of hooves drew near, and to their mutual “Holy shit!” expressions, the pursued woman dismounted her horse and dove directly… behind Lin Feng.

“???” (Both Men)

Chen Xiyi was utterly flabbergasted. Why in the world did she stop running?!

“Hand her over, and we forget this ever happened,” the leader of the pursuers stated coldly.

Chen Xiyi and Lin Feng exchanged a glance. Another silent agreement instantly formed.

Chen Xiyi turned on his heel and bolted. Lin Feng, however, launched himself towards the pursuers.

Only after diving into a nearby thicket did Chen Xiyi realize their understanding of ‘agreement’ seemed to be fundamentally different.

Whoosh. “Why aren’t you helping him?” The woman whispered beside him, crouched in the underbrush.

“Look at me! I couldn’t tie down a chicken. My combat power? Maybe 0.5 geese. Going up there is suicide. Why aren’t you helping?” Chen Xiyi retorted, keeping his eyes on the rapidly shifting scene. Lin Feng had just dispatched two Postnatal Warriors in the blink of an eye. The dozen remaining thugs were being carved up like melons.

“I’m just a weak girl. Going up there is suicide,” the woman said with a convincing tremor.

Chen Xiyi screamed internally: ‘You’re a freaking Innate Warrior telling me you’re weak?! And why is the Tiger Might Emperor, who happens to be a WOMAN, even HERE?! Wait! This is no coincidence… You’re here specifically to scout Lin Feng, aren’t you?!’ He glanced at his Game Map overlay:

[Tang Jing: Tiger Might Emperor]

[Skill 1: Innate Warrior]

[Skill 2: Exquisite Fist Technique]

[Skill 3: Meridian Internal Energy Cycle]

[History]

[August: Encountered Lin Feng during an incognito inspection; found him intriguing]

[August: …]

“Well then,” Chen Xiyi said aloud, “Let’s stay crouched here quietly. I think Lin Feng is about to win.” He subtly shifted several feet further away from Tang Jing. He had seen the name earlier on his Game Map, hence the teasing prod at Lin Feng. Lin Feng, sharp as ever, clearly sensed something was off and hadn’t taken the bait, choosing instead to flee with him.

Tang Jing watched Chen Xiyi’s movement with suspicion. How could a Qi Refiner as weak as him sense her true power? An Innate Warrior should be undetectable!

“Old Chen, let’s go!” The sound of the fight faded entirely. Lin Feng stood amidst the fallen forms – luckless raiders recruited or coerced by this disguised emperor – all clearly out of commission.

“Right. You hungry? Let’s find some food,” Chen Xiyi jumped up, ready to run.

Tang Jing was left alone in the grass, thoroughly bewildered. This wasn’t the script! Where was the hero rushing to the beauty’s side with reassuring words and gentle concern? Why was lunch suddenly the priority?!

“My savior!… Sir! Wait for me…!” Tang Jing gritted her teeth and sprinted after them. This Lin Feng seemed to be hiding mysteries worth unraveling.

Chen Xiyi looked at Lin Feng with profound pity. “You’re doomed. She’s latched onto you. You should’ve run with me. Now the ‘Hero Saves Beauty’ event triggered a side quest! Good luck navigating that story arc.”

“Step by step, I guess. What choice do I have?” Lin Feng didn’t grasp the term ‘side quest,’ but he got the gist of Chen Xiyi’s meaning.

…

“Any luck tracking which way the Wandering Light went?” Zhan Xue asked as Guo Chen and Nie Meng drew near.

“No,” Guo Chen replied, grim-faced. “He travels alone. Once out of the city, tracking him became impossible.”

“I found something inside the Myriad Sword Manor,” Nie Meng reported. “I investigated its history, the maker of the Wandering Light Sword, and the fate of those who wielded it…” She shared her findings and analysis: “…I suspect we aren’t the first from the future to land in this temporal fragment. The sword’s maker was likely a fellow time-jumper, and possibly a Wandering Light Devotee. His fanatical devotion might be what drove him to craft it.”

“So, it seems the Wandering Light Sword is a key component in the Ascension Ritual of a nascent Wandering Light,” Zhan Xue deduced, his eyes narrowing coldly. “If we can’t find him, we don’t need to bother. We’ll head straight to the Ascension Ritual site and ambush him there.”

His lips curled in disdain. “He thinks he can use us as whetstones to hone himself against before fully ascending? Hah! We’ll cut his ascension off at the root.”

They knew the locations of the ritual sites for the Twelve Immortals’ Ascensions. This knowledge wasn’t common in this era, but for them – members of the Temporal Enforcement Bureau – uncovering ancient ruins and references to such sites in the future had been achievable.

“Without the ritual,” Zhan Xue continued, his gaze hardening with resolve, “that place… it’s just a pile of empty stones.”