The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 265

Yamamoto Wakamizu didn’t notice the trickle of blood at the corner of Miyamoto Kazuma’s mouth, but she could clearly see the numerous cuts slashed across his wide kimono—marks left by Liu Yunduo’s sword during their duel earlier.

Beneath some of the torn fabric, thin red lines marred his skin, dampening Yamamoto’s initial joy. Though her master had won, it wasn’t a flawless victory. The fight had been far from easy.

After all, her master was Japan’s foremost practitioner of Niten Ichi-ryū, a living legend in the world of swordsmanship!

In all these years, he had suffered defeat only once—at the hands of “Sword Saint” Yagyū Munenori. In today’s Japanese swordsmanship circles, how many could push her master to such limits?

Liu Yunduo, despite her youth, possessed terrifying skill. Yamamoto couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration. If allowed to grow further, who could predict what heights she might reach in another decade or two?

Fortunately, her master had crippled Liu Yunduo today. She would never wield a sword properly again, let alone remain a swordsman.

Otherwise, she would have become a fearsome enemy in the future.

…..

“Master, how is Liu Yunduo’s swordsmanship so formidable? According to Senior Brother, her skill shouldn’t be this terrifying,” Yamamoto asked softly. “Could it be that she held back during their duel?”

Miyamoto Kazuma’s eyes darkened with unreadable emotions.

Liu Yunduo’s swordsmanship was fearsome—especially that final strike. It was like a stroke of divine inspiration, pinpointing the flaw in his “Rinne Zan” (Cycle Slash). Had his mastery not been profound enough to endure the backlash, the outcome might have been different. Victory and defeat could have swung either way.

Today, Liu Yunduo’s swordsmanship—or rather, her philosophy of swordsmanship—had left him stunned.

Her style was distilled to its purest form: no superfluous movements, no pursuit of elegance, only lethal efficiency. It reminded Miyamoto of only one person—Yagyū Munenori.

Yes, Yagyū’s “Muttō no Jutsu” (No-Sword Technique) from their duel years ago shared the same essence as Liu Yunduo’s approach.

“Investigate everything that happened to Liu Yunduo after her duel with your senior brother,” Miyamoto ordered.

In his view, Liu Yunduo’s skill alone couldn’t have led her to such enlightenment. Had she truly grasped this level of swordsmanship, Miyamoto might not have prevailed today.

Thus, he believed someone extraordinary must have guided her—and recently, likely after her duel with his top disciple, Miyamoto Fujino.

Miyamoto Kazuma was deeply curious: Who was this master behind her?

If such a person existed, they would be the perfect whetstone for his “Sword-Tempering Journey” in China.

…..

Jincheng.

Xia Xiaozhi, Xu Jing, and Tan Yuan had originally planned to stay in Daocun Village for just a week. But once they arrived, they didn’t want to leave. They lingered until three days before school started, when their parents issued ultimatums, forcing them to pack reluctantly.

They had to go. If they didn’t, their parents would come fetch them personally—and they’d be banned from future trips, no exceptions. Not even Jiang Fei, the renowned paragon of excellence, could sway that decision.

On their last night, the three girls stayed up late. Even after showering and changing into pajamas, they dragged Jiang Fei out to stargaze.

In cities, polluted skies made stargazing a luxury. But here in the countryside, the air was clear, and the stars shone brilliantly.

Under the dazzling night sky, the trio’s stomachs inevitably growled. They pestered Jiang Fei for a barbecue. Since it was their last night, he indulged them, setting up the grill and preparing ingredients.

The villa in Daocun was built for leisure, so barbecue tools were fully stocked.

As Jiang Fei worked, the girls helped fetch items—until he shooed them away from the actual cooking.

“Last night, huh?” Tan Yuan teased, her tone sly rather than sentimental.

Xia Xiaozhi narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, Dead Tangyuan?”

Adjusting her black-framed glasses, Tan Yuan grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just recalling how someone made bold declarations before this trip… yet here we are, with nothing to show for it.”

Xia Xiaozhi and Xu Jing flushed simultaneously, feigning ignorance. “What declarations? We don’t remember.”

Tan Yuan sighed dramatically. “You two are usually so brave. Why so shy now? In this world, fortune favors the bold. If you don’t seize the chance, someone else will. How else will you compete with Sister Lin or Sister Bai?”

The two girls ducked their heads, embarrassed.

Private bravado was one thing; actual action was another.

“Why don’t you go, then?” Xia Xiaozhi shot back.

Tan Yuan shrugged. “I’m not the one with a crush. But if two’s a crowd, you could rock-paper-scissors for it!”

Xu Jing, the busty but naive “Zhuangzhuang”, actually considered it, earning a scolding from Xia Xiaozhi: “You airhead! Your brains all went to your chest! She’s just mocking us!”

Yet Xu Jing mumbled, “I think she makes sense…”

Tan Yuan cackled. “See? Zhuangzhuang’s not just curvier—she’s braver too! With that loli face and those assets, plus her willingness to play the innocent lamb, even your moe charm can’t compete. Uncle Jiang’s gonna be hers!”

Xia Xiaozhi stormed off to help Jiang Fei, leaving the scheming duo behind.

…..

The aroma of grilled food was irresistible. Despite knowing late-night eating was unhealthy, the girls gorged themselves—who knew when they’d taste Jiang Fei’s cooking again?

Midway, Tan Yuan fetched a bottle of Jiang Fei’s homemade red wine, aged two months in the cellar. Its flavor rivaled top European vineyards, and the girls, now budding oenophiles, drank freely.

Jiang Fei allowed it—moderate red wine had health benefits, after all.

Barbecue, wine, and impromptu singing and dancing made for a merry, if eccentric, farewell. Though the trio often gave Jiang Fei headaches, their company was mostly delightful.

By the end, the wine was gone—mostly consumed by Xu Jing, who was now rosy-cheeked, drowsy, and swaying.

“Clean up. I’ll take Zhuangzhuang back,” Jiang Fei said, carrying the tipsy girl to the villa.

Halfway up the stairs, her legs gave out, forcing him to carry her the rest of the way.

But as he laid her gently on the bed and turned to leave, Xu Jing’s arms suddenly hooked around his neck—and her soft lips pressed against his.

Jiang Fei froze.

The sweetness of youth, the richness of wine—it was intoxicating.