Volume 1, Chapter 7: Words Manifesting Reality, Invincible in the Way of the Sword

"Falcon," disguised as the maid Mingyue, whispered a reminder: "Your Highness, the Sixth Princess, Ye Luoxin, is on the floor above."

Ye Chen turned his gaze past the youth before him toward the top floor of the Moon-Gazing Pavilion in the distance. A group of young men and women stood there, all around his age. The young woman who had just spoken was indeed the Sixth Princess, Ye Luoxin. She was a fourth-rank master of music, practicing the "Eight Sounds of the Heavenly Dragon." She owned the Moon-Gazing Pavilion; otherwise, it could never have been built right next to the Prince of Yan's manor. However, her life had not been easy. Her maternal grandfather was Ji Dongcang, the Prince of Zhou, one of the two feudal lords whose houses had been extinguished. Two years ago, had it not been for her mother acting in the interest of righteousness by reporting the Prince of Zhou for treason, Ye Luoxin would have been exiled long ago.

"Don't underestimate Gu Shun just because he's fourth-rank; he's killed third-rank masters before. Isn't this a bit unfair to the Ninth Prince?" The chubby man who spoke was He Qianheng, the youngest son of He Chengye, commander of the Capital Garrison. A well-known playboy in the capital, he was a fifth-rank master of the blade. The others on the top floor of the pavilion were all sons and daughters of the capital's powerful elite.

Ye Luoxin smiled triumphantly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "What is there to fear? My ninth brother is a first-rank semi-saint of Confucianism; one should say that Gu Shun is the one unqualified to challenge him." She looked down at Ye Chen, sneering with disdain. "Isn't your specialty 'Word Manifesting'? I want to see how much of your lifespan you can afford to burn. Don't worry—if Gu Shun can't kill you, I have plenty of others here. We can wear you down to death!"

At that moment, Gu Shun spoke calmly: "There are nearly a hundred paths of cultivation, but the sword path is for the gentleman. I invite the Ninth Prince to make the first move!"

Ye Chen was racking his brains, searching the original owner's memories for any Confucian techniques for combat. Unfortunately, the memories contained nothing but "Word Manifesting" and "A Word Becomes a Prophecy." To put it bluntly, "A Word Becomes a Prophecy" meant that good omens never came true, but bad ones always did. Or, more simply, it was like "drawing a circle on the ground to curse you." No wonder Confucianism was known as the weakest path—it had no practical means of fighting! It was either risking one's life with "Word Manifesting" or cursing people with "Prophecy."

Wait. Ye Chen’s mind raced. The Confucianism of his original world wasn't like this. Confucius, the founder of Chinese Confucianism, was a powerhouse standing nine feet six inches tall—over two meters. The *Liezi* records that Confucius's strength was such that he could lift the heavy crossbar of the capital's gate. In terms of martial prowess, Confucius was no match for the generals of his time, or he never could have led three thousand disciples on a journey across the states! The Confucianism of this world, having survived for three thousand years, must have its own hidden depths.

"Hey, Ninth Prince, have you been scared stupid? Go find a weapon; Gu Shun is waiting!" He Qianheng laughed, his voice ringing down from the pavilion, filled with mockery.

"Got it!" Ye Chen’s eyes brightened. He turned to a plum tree, reached out, and snapped off a branch. "This will be my weapon!"

A roar of laughter erupted from the pavilion at the sight of the twig. "A tree branch as a weapon? Is the Ninth Prince giving up?"

"Gu Shun's sword may not be a famous blade, but it is forged from cold iron and cuts through metal like mud. For the Ninth Prince to use a twig to counter it is laughable!"

"The pedants of Confucianism only know how to preach, thinking themselves noble while actually being useless trash."

"That’s only because you don't know the true power of 'Word Manifesting'!" Listening to their chatter, Ye Chen couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. He wasn't sure where this emotion came from—perhaps his soul had merged with the original owner’s—but he could not tolerate disrespect toward Confucianism. He wasn't speaking blindly; although he wasn't certain it would work, he had decided to try.

Ye Chen channeled the power of "Word Manifesting" and spoke aloud: "My sword path is unrivaled under heaven, man and sword are one; withered twigs and fallen leaves may serve as blades. In this vast heaven and earth, who dares to contend with me?"

As the words fell, Ye Chen looked up at the sky and felt a faint infusion of celestial energy into his body. Simultaneously, a lock of his hair turned white; much of his lifespan had been drained. Yet, this consumed far less than using "Word Manifesting" to kill. He genuinely felt the power of the sword path between heaven and earth, and it fused within his mind. At that moment, he felt like a sword immortal who had spent a hundred years immersed in the path. So, "Word Manifesting" depended on how one used it; if used well, it could be an "equivalent exchange."

"Is the Ninth Prince bragging? 'Unrivaled under heaven,' 'man and sword are one'—you're killing me!"

"If he and Gu Shun had a competition in bragging, Gu Shun would definitely lose." The young nobles laughed unrestrainedly, holding the Ninth Prince in no regard.

Gu Shun, feeling deeply insulted, roared, "Arrogance! How dare you spout such nonsense about the sword path? Die!"

*Clang!* The cold iron sword hummed as it flew into Gu Shun’s hand. He swung, and sword qi surged outward! On the pavilion, Ye Luoxin watched with a triumphant smile, certain that Ye Chen was finished. He Qianheng exclaimed, "The sword fanatic Gu Shun lives up to his reputation! Only at the fourth rank, and he can already unleash sword qi!"

But in the next instant, the praise ceased. Everyone’s vision blurred. Ye Chen vanished from his spot and reappeared behind Gu Shun. In the moment they crossed paths, the branch in Ye Chen’s hand lightly brushed against Gu Shun’s neck. Gu Shun was startled; though his momentum remained, he clutched his neck in terror. Then, Ye Chen’s voice sounded flatly: "You are dead."

The others might not have seen it clearly, but "Falcon," disguised as Mingyue, was shocked. As a first-rank assassin, she clearly felt that Ye Chen had used sword intent with a mere branch! Only a third-rank Sword Saint could achieve that. Could it be that his "Word Manifesting" allowed him to attain third-rank sword cultivation without ever practicing? If so, Ye Chen... "Falcon" didn't dare think further. This had to be reported to the Emperor immediately; she slipped away silently.

"Gu Shun, what the hell are you playing at? It was just a twig, it couldn't have hurt you!" He Qianheng shouted impatiently from the pavilion.

*Thud.* Without warning, Gu Shun fell to his knees! He turned his head in shock, gasping, "How could you... possess sword intent..." Before he could finish, his head rolled off his neck, and blood sprayed from the clean-cut surface.

Ye Chen looked at his handiwork and then at the twig in his hand, murmuring to himself, "Trading life for cultivation? This deal... is worth it!"

After a long silence, He Qianheng shouted in fury, "Gu Shun is the son of the Sword Saint Gu Songzhi! You killed his son, and he won't let you live! You're dead!" On the pavilion, Ye Luoxin’s face was ashen, trembling with rage.

Ye Chen staggered, leaning weakly against the tree as he slid to the ground. The exertion had caused his internal energy to surge chaotically, with no meridians to guide it. *Cough!* He spat out blood, his face pale as a corpse.

Ye Luoxin’s eyes lit up. "He’s finished! Whoever kills him now will claim his heavenly luck!"

"My turn!" A figure dived down, landing before Ye Chen. "I am—"

*Clang!* A flash of cold light passed. Before the man could finish, his neck was severed! The head rolled a few times and stopped, facing the Moon-Gazing Pavilion. Ye Chen, holding Gu Shun’s cold iron sword, said impatiently, "So damn noisy..."

Faced with such swift and ruthless killing, Ye Luoxin shuddered, filled with disbelief. This was nothing like the Ye Chen she knew; he was decisive and murderous, like a completely different person.

"A bunch of losers. I'll do it myself!" A cold voice rang out as a youth in tight martial attire floated down from the pavilion and landed in the garden. "Ninth Prince, I have come specifically to take your luck!"

Ye Chen’s heart tightened. He tried to rise, but his vision went black, and searing pain flooded his body. The wild energy within him was agonizing, leaving him unable to move. In the vast manor, no one seemed to notice what was happening here. The maid, Mingyue, had disappeared. Just as Ye Chen felt he was doomed...

"Have you caused enough trouble? Do you want to spend a couple of days in the dungeons of the Imperial Observatory?"