pappabearbooks Chapter 200 Sword Maniac Liu Bai, let's have a match. Only the winner can drink.
Chapter 200 Sword Maniac Liu Bai, let's have a match. Only the winner can drink.
Miscalculated.
He lived for seventy-three years and considered himself to have exceptional eyesight, never failing to judge people.
But he misjudged the young man before him.
Moreover, it was a complete and utter loss.
He showed no signs of cultivation fluctuations, and he clearly appeared to be just a distinguished young master from a wealthy family, yet that grip just now—
The movements were too fast, too steady, and too composed.
It was so fast that he almost didn't see it clearly.
They were so calm, as if they already knew the sword would appear there.
He was as composed as if that deadly flying sword were nothing more than a branch casually picked from his backyard.
What does this mean?
This means that the young man's strength is at least no weaker than his.
even……
He might be even stronger than him.
The thought flashed through the old man's mind, stirring up a long-lost feeling within him.
He hadn't encountered such an opponent in a very, very long time.
No, they are not rivals.
He wasn't even sure if he could win if a fight broke out.
The old man slowly concealed the shock in his eyes, and his expression returned to calm.
"I didn't expect you to be so powerful, young master," he said, his voice old and steady, devoid of any emotion. "It seems I was just being presumptuous."
He paused, his gaze falling on the sword Qin Mu was holding.
The sword in his hand was as still as if it were asleep, without any struggle or resistance.
This Autumn Water Sword had been with him for thirty years and had long since become sentient.
An ordinary person would be injured by the sword energy if they touched it.
But at this moment, in the hands of this young man, it was as docile as a cat.
A complex light flashed in the old man's eyes once again.
"However," he withdrew his gaze and looked at Qin Mu again, "there is something I do not understand."
Qin Mu raised an eyebrow: "Please speak."
"These people want to harm you."
The old man's gaze swept over the two corpses lying on the ground, finally settling on the proprietress. "Since you had the ability to stop them, why didn't you intervene? Instead, you waited for me to kill them before..."
Qin Mu smiled.
He lowered his head and looked at the proprietress beside him, who was already terrified.
The proprietress trembled all over, her face was as pale as paper, and her lips quivered violently. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't utter a single word.
Her once captivating eyes were now filled with fear and confusion.
Rainwater slid down her cheeks, indistinguishable from cold sweat.
Qin Mu looked at her, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes.
"This proprietress," he said, his tone as casual as if he were evaluating a piece of merchandise, "is quite good-looking."
The old man frowned slightly.
Qin Mu continued:
"It would be a shame to kill them like this."
He paused, a meaningful smile curving his lips:
"Let's have some fun first."
The old man was stunned.
He looked at Qin Mu's handsome face, his smiling eyes, and the playful curve of his lips, and a look of astonishment flashed across his eyes again.
This young man was upright and righteous, with unfathomable cultivation, and his every move exuded a captivating charm.
He thought he was a chivalrous person.
At the very least, they should have some air of strength.
But at this moment, the words he said...
Let's have some fun first and then talk about it?
What to play?
Playing with this woman?
The old man's brows furrowed more and more deeply.
A hint of indescribable disappointment crept into his gaze as he looked at Qin Mu.
So young, so powerful, he should be a great hero who cares for the world and helps the people.
Unexpectedly, he turned out to be a lecherous man who was obsessed with women.
Pity.
It's such a pity.
The old man sighed inwardly and said nothing more.
He simply raised his hand and gestured.
The broad, thick sword that was floating in the air, and the slender sword that had pierced the big man's throat, both turned into two streaks of silver light and flew back to the sword box in his hand.
Moonlight streamed through gaps in the torn clouds, casting dappled shadows on the damp corridor floor.
The downpour came quickly and went quickly, as if the torrential rain was just a short sigh from heaven and earth.
Only the water droplets dripping from the eaves remained, striking the bluestone slabs with a crisp, rhythmic "tap-tap" sound, which was particularly clear in the suddenly quiet night.
Qin Mu held the longsword named "Autumn Water" in his hand, his fingertips gently stroking the blade, feeling the slight vibration emanating from it.
That was the sword spirit struggling, calling out to its master.
The old man stood there, his gray-white Taoist robe soaked by the rain, clinging to his slightly thin body.
He looked up at Qin Mu, his aged face calm as still water, only a hint of seriousness flashing deep in his eyes.
He raised his hand, joined two fingers together, and gently beckoned to the Autumn Water Sword in Qin Mu's hand.
This is his natal flying sword, which he has nurtured for thirty years. It is already in harmony with his mind and will, and the sword moves with his will, and the sword arrives where his mind goes.
But this time—
The Autumn Water Sword remained completely still.
It lay quietly in Qin Mu's palm, as if asleep, or perhaps... betrayed.
The old man's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
He waved again, this time using three-tenths of his true strength.
The Autumn Water Sword trembled slightly, emitting a very soft sword cry, as if trying to break free. But the tremor was gently suppressed by an invisible force and returned to silence.
The seriousness in the old man's eyes finally surfaced.
He looked at Qin Mu, and for the first time, a complex emotion appeared on his aged face.
He lived for seventy-three years, immersed himself in the way of swordsmanship for sixty years, and was confident that his swordsmanship was unmatched in the world.
But at this moment, his natal flying sword is in someone else's hands, and he can't recall it.
This can no longer be explained by simply saying that the company is "not weak".
This is crushing.
An absolute and undeniable crushing defeat.
The old man slowly lowered his arm and withdrew his stance.
He did not try again.
He knew that no matter how many times he tried, the result would be the same.
Qin Mu seemed to have anticipated his reaction, and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Then, he looked up at the old man.
"Why are you in such a hurry to leave?"
His voice was very gentle, as if he were inviting an old friend for a cup of tea.
"I'm quite interested in you."
He paused, his gaze settling on that aged yet serene face:
"Do you have some time? Shall we chat?"
The old man looked at him without saying a word.
Those eyes, weathered by seventy years of trials, met Qin Mu's gaze silently.
Qin Mu was not in a hurry; he simply waited with a smile.
A night breeze blew in from the end of the corridor, carrying the unique dampness and freshness of the rain, and fluttered the clothes of the two people.
The sound of dripping water from the eaves, one drop after another.
Finally, the old man slowly spoke.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The voice was old, yet remarkably steady.
Qin Mu smiled.
"Qin Mu. And you?"
The old man's brow twitched slightly when he heard the name.
Qin Mu?
Emperor of Qin?
That legendary, debauched, and tyrannical emperor who was obsessed with wine and women?
A complex, indescribable light flashed in the old man's eyes.
At that moment, the proprietress who was slumped on the ground trembled violently when she heard the name "Qin Mu"!
Her eyes widened as she stared intently at Qin Mu, her pupils filled with disbelief and terror!
Qin Mu?
The Emperor of Qin?!
The man she was just thinking about using a sleeping potion on, tying him up and taking him back for "fun"?!
That handsome young man who made her yearn to possess him?!
Is he the emperor?!
Is that the Qin emperor who struck fear into the hearts of the entire world?!
The proprietress's mind went completely blank for a moment.
She felt dizzy and her vision blurred, as if she were falling into an abyss.
It’s over.
It's all over.
What was she doing just now?
Are they plotting against the emperor?
Is that the look you're giving him?
Are you saying something reckless and courting death?
The proprietress's legs went completely limp, and she collapsed to the ground like a lump of mud, her teeth chattering and her whole body trembling like a leaf.
She wanted to beg for mercy, to kowtow, to explain.
But his lips trembled violently, and he couldn't utter a single word.
At that moment, after a brief silence, the old man finally spoke.
"My surname is Liu, and my given name is Bai."
He paused, then added:
People in the martial arts world call me "Sword Maniac".
Qin Mu raised an eyebrow.
Sword fanatic?
This name is interesting.
But when the proprietress, who was lying on the ground, heard the name "Liu Bai," her pupils contracted violently again!
Sword fanatic Liu Bai!
That peerless swordsman who was famous throughout the martial arts world thirty years ago!
That legendary figure who was said to have unparalleled swordsmanship and had never been defeated!
That eccentric, lone swordsman who loves to help those in need!
Legend has it that when he was young, he traveled all over the world and once encountered a group of bandits robbing a village on the border of Xiliang. He killed three hundred bandits with his sword and saved all the old and young in the village.
Legend has it that when he was middle-aged, he lived in seclusion in the mountains and forests. He happened to encounter a corrupt official who was forcibly taking a woman. He sneaked into the government office that night and hung the corrupt official at the city gate for three days and three nights, which frightened all the officials in the city.
Legend has it that in his later years he retired from the mountains and lived in seclusion, no longer concerning himself with worldly affairs. But whenever there was injustice in the martial arts world, his gray figure could always be seen, appearing and disappearing silently.
Throughout his life, he acted solely according to his conscience.
All he ever sought in his life was the sword.
Thus, he was given the nickname "Sword Maniac" by people in the martial arts world.
The proprietress's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
She never dreamed that the old man she had just called a "poor old geezer" and whose neck she had almost had broken by her men was actually the legendary sword fanatic Liu Bai!
Such a legendary figure stood before Qin Mu with a solemn expression, as if facing a formidable enemy!
The proprietress felt everything go black before her eyes and fainted completely.
Nobody paid any attention to her.
Qin Mu's gaze remained fixed on Liu Bai.
Liu Bai was also looking at him.
The two stared at each other as the night wind blew through the corridor, making their clothes flutter.
Finally, Liu Bai spoke.
His voice was still old and steady, but it carried something new that hadn't been there before—
The will to fight.
His gaze fell on Qin Mu's hand holding the Autumn Water Sword. The hand was fair and slender, with distinct knuckles, yet it was as steady as a rock.
"I have nurtured this sword for thirty years, and its essence resonates with mine; the sword moves as I please. But in your hands, it is like..."
He paused, seemingly searching for the right word.
"It's like finding its true master."
That's a very strong statement.
It was so heavy that even Qin Mu raised an eyebrow slightly.
He looked at Liu Bai, at that aged yet earnest face, and suddenly smiled.
"Mr. Liu," he said, "what you need to do now is not ask me who I am."
His tone was soft, yet carried an undeniable certainty:
"Instead, he accepted my invitation."
Liu Bai remained silent for a moment.
Then he asked a strange question:
"Do you have any good wine or food?"
Qin Mu was slightly taken aback, then smiled.
That smile held a hint of surprise and a touch of admiration.
He lowered his head, looked at the proprietress who was slumped on the ground, raised his foot, and gently kicked her shoulder.
"Hey," he said, "I'm asking you. Any good food or wine?"
The proprietress suddenly woke up from her semi-conscious state.
She looked up and saw Qin Mu's smiling face, Liu Bai's calm face, and the two corpses lying not far away, their blood flowing in thin red streams under the rain...
Her body trembled even more violently, her teeth chattering, but she managed to squeeze out a sentence:
"Yes...yes..."
Her voice trembled violently, but she tried her best to explain herself clearly:
"Of course... Our shop has... We have 30-year-old aged bamboo leaf green tea... and... and freshly delivered wild game... I... I'll go prepare it right away..."
Qin Mu nodded in satisfaction.
He looked at Liu Bai, asking with his eyes: How is it?
Liu Bai nodded slightly.
Qin Mu kicked the landlady again:
"Then why aren't you going yet?"
The proprietress felt as if she had been granted a pardon and scrambled to her feet.
She didn't even bother to brush the mud and blood off her body, and staggered downstairs, looking back as she ran, afraid that Qin Mu would change his mind.
Rapid footsteps echoed down the stairs, along with suppressed, almost collapsing sobs.
Soon, only Qin Mu and Liu Bai remained in the corridor.
The night wind still blows, and the dripping sound from the eaves still echoes.
Liu Bai looked at Qin Mu and suddenly spoke:
Let's have a fight.
Qin Mu raised an eyebrow.
Liu Bai continued, his voice steady, his gaze sharp as a sword:
"Later, only the winner can drink."