Chapter 133: Astonishing Swordsmanship

The earth-shattering sword radiance in the sky lasted for half an hour, appearing as abruptly as it vanished without a trace. No one noticed that the calligraphy and paintings hanging in the great hall had returned to their original state, while the paper on which Yu Youwei had written the poem "Song of the Old General" had crumbled into fine dust, invisible to the naked eye.

The moment the radiance disappeared, a profound darkness—an optical illusion—seized the vision of all present. Then, the glow from Ancestor Ling’s sword burst forth from that dark void, blindingly brilliant.

Ancestor Ling, dancing in pursuit of the heaven-piercing radiance, moved with initial stiffness, but his technique gradually smoothed out. His speed slowed down, yet he moved with the effortless grace of one carrying a great weight as if it were a feather, leaving behind arcs of mystical light in the air.

Except for those on Yingxia Peak, no one noticed that the arcs traced by Yu Youwei’s Qingshuang sword were remarkably similar to those of Ancestor Ling. However, the Yu family disciples on the peak were of lesser skill; they could not perceive that the sword technique she had realized was more perfect than the Ancestor’s. They simply assumed she was performing a different style and naturally concluded that she had erred.

In truth, while Yu Youwei was gifted, she was not so monstrous as to ignore the chasm between their cultivation realms. The reason she could realize a technique more perfect than the Ancestor’s was due to the Red Flame Sword Spirit, her ultimate cheat code. After she adamantly refused to contend with the heaven-piercing radiance head-on, the spirit had compromised, helping her refine her own technique instead.

The Red Flame Sword Spirit had been itching to show off, yet even when refining the technique, she refused to use the Red Flame sword, opting for the Qingshuang sword instead. Her reason was simple: one should not reveal their trump card so easily.

"Playing hide-and-seek is not the style of the Red Flame!"

The spirit’s roar made Yu Youwei’s heart hammer against her ribs, but she remained stubborn, insisting it stay hidden. The spirit was so infuriated that it regretted being tricked by the little white bear into becoming her master’s companion.

"I fell for that little cub’s scheme, coaxed onto this pirate ship where I can't even fight—I’ve been had!" the Red Flame Sword Spirit growled in frustration, only to be completely ignored by Yu Youwei.

*As if charging in there would be a fight and not a suicide mission,* she thought. Too lazy to argue with a sword spirit, Yu Youwei focused her attention on the monumental sword radiance. She quickly entered a state of harmony between heaven and man, capturing the intent hidden within the light and translating it into her own swordplay.

Ancestor Ling was entirely immersed in that mystical state, utterly self-forgetful. As he whirled and danced in the sky, his technique became increasingly perfect, like a dragon soaring in the heavens, its nimble movements imbued with an overwhelming, world-dominating aura.

When Ancestor Ling finally sheathed his sword, the entire Sword Imperial Sect watched in a trance. It took a long moment before thunderous applause and cheers erupted. Hearing this, the Red Flame Sword Spirit—who had missed its chance to shine—grew even more indignant and retreated into some unknown corner to sulk, leaving Yu Youwei in peace.

As the Qingshuang sword transformed into a beam of light and coiled back around her wrist, Yu Youwei reminded the ecstatic Yu family disciples, "Don't just revel in the joy; seize the moment to gain enlightenment." The disciples, who held her in profound reverence, immediately found places to sit cross-legged and meditated. Though she herself longed to seize the opportunity to reflect, she feared someone might trespass on the peak and disturb them, so she sat in the rocking chair under the eaves where Yu Ruoshuang usually rested.

Beyond the eaves, the path faced the green-brick-paved, tree-lined lane. Yu Youwei leaned back lazily in the chair, catching the faint scent of orchids from the velvet cushion, when she caught sight of a woman as beautiful as a celestial being.

The woman emerged from the shadows of the lane, her floor-length cloak with silver trim swaying gently in the breeze. Her long, ink-black hair was piled high in a raven-wing style, adorned with a single black jade phoenix hairpin from which hung tassels of creamy white pearls. As the wind stirred the beads, they illuminated the brilliance in her autumn-water eyes.

The woman wore only black, white, or shades in between—simple and austere, yet possessing a beauty that could unsettle the soul.

A sense of familiarity welled up. Yu Youwei felt as if she had seen this woman somewhere before. Soon, it dawned on her: this was her sister’s mother, her legal mother, Ying Ximei. "Fourth Lady Yu?" she asked in surprise.

"Do you not intend to call me Mother?" the Fourth Lady asked, her tone distant.

"Even if I didn't mind calling you Mother, I doubt you would enjoy hearing it," Yu Youwei replied, her long lashes fluttering as she couldn't help but offer a mocking smile. "To you, my existence is surely a thorn in your side. Why force yourself?"

Jealousy and resentment flickered across the Fourth Lady’s face. She clenched her fists and spat through gritted teeth, "If you think your biological mother will ever enter the Yu house, you are dreaming." Faced with the eyes that so closely resembled those of her late husband, she could not bring herself to kill, so she vented her anger on Yu Youwei’s mother.

Startled by the look in her legal mother’s eyes and fearing she might harm her own mother, Yu Youwei quickly said, "Oh, on that point, we are in complete agreement. I have no desire for her to remain a widow for the Fourth Master of the Yu family. I’d prefer she remarry this year and have a son next year; I never once considered having her return to the Yu house."

"Your father is Yu Tianming; you cannot call another man 'Father'," the Fourth Lady shrieked, as if this were a matter of grave importance.

Unable to keep up with her legal mother’s erratic train of thought, Yu Youwei paused, then replied with a helpless laugh, "I haven't developed the habit of calling just anyone 'Father,' you know."

Taken aback, the Fourth Lady realized her overreaction, and a flush slowly crept up her alabaster cheeks.

The union between her father and his legal wife had been a mismatch in status, and even as a son-in-law, her father’s conditions had been poor. Yu Youwei was curious about what methods her short-lived father had used to win the heart of such a beauty, who had not only remained a widow for him after his death but had also cared for the Yu family for years.

Perhaps the curiosity in Yu Youwei’s eyes was too obvious, for the blush on the Fourth Lady’s cheeks deepened. She scolded her, though it sounded more like a coquettish reprimand than a lecture, "Insolent! Is this how you speak to your legal mother?"

Having no intention of currying favor with the Fourth Lady, and even less desire for another mother to govern her, Yu Youwei said slowly, "Oh? Was my return to the family not merely to fulfill the marriage contract my father set before he died? It was a transaction. Now that the transaction is complete, why must we look at each other with mutual distaste? Wouldn't it be better if we kept to ourselves and stayed out of each other's way?"

She had truly intended to accept this girl as her daughter. Because of those eyes that so resembled her late husband’s, even if she couldn't treat her like her own, she had planned to care for her well. The Fourth Lady had never expected such a rejection. Seeing the girl’s light, indifferent smile, her anger flared, and her tone turned sharp: "Suit yourself!"

Ru Yun walked over from the lane, not daring to interject, but she kept signaling to Yu Youwei with her eyes. Poor girl, her eyes were almost twitching, yet she couldn't make Yu Youwei change her mind about accepting the Fourth Lady as her mother.

Since she was, after all, her father’s wife, Yu Youwei felt she should show some courtesy. She bowed and said, "If the Fourth Lady has no other instructions, I shall take my leave."

"Instructions? I wouldn't dare," the Fourth Lady snapped, turning away to refuse the gesture.

"Then, I bid you farewell." Yu Youwei glanced at the sky; the powerful figures of the Sword Imperial Sect had completely dispersed. Fearing more trouble might follow, she grabbed Ru Yun and slipped away.