That was truly Jiang Fei’s honest thought.
He knew the new leader of the Swordsmanship Alliance was a master of the blade, and her skills were undoubtedly formidable. But Jiang Fei wasn’t afraid of her, nor did he believe he was inferior.
After numerous sparring matches at the Central Martial Arts Academy, he had concluded that no matter how skilled a real-world swordsman might be, they stood no chance against his Dugu Nine Swords—even though he had only mastered the first level so far.
Besides, he now possessed the North Sea Divine Art and had absorbed the internal energy of the muscular brute Tian Fei, granting him true inner strength. While the Dugu Nine Swords relied primarily on its peerless techniques—effective even without inner energy—adding internal force only amplified its lethality.
If this woman insisted on a formal duel, Jiang Fei genuinely feared he might accidentally kill her.
But what if he held back too much and ended up getting killed by her instead?
Even a lion uses its full strength to catch a rabbit. In a life-or-death duel, carelessness was unacceptable. The fight between Zhang Wuji and Zhou Zhiruo at Shaolin Temple’s Massacre of Heroes gathering in The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber was a perfect example.
When masters clashed, once their techniques were unleashed, holding back became nearly impossible. The outcome often spiraled beyond their control.
One misstep could mean the difference between life and death.
To avoid either scenario—dying or becoming a murderer—the best solution was simple: refuse the challenge and walk away.
“Damn it! This guy’s arrogance is unbearable!” Su Mengnan, the spoiled young master, snapped out of his daze and fumed.
“Jiang Fei, you beat me at the airport yesterday, but that doesn’t mean I’m weaker than you! Hand-to-hand combat was never my forte—swordsmanship is! Forget comparing to our alliance leader; you might not even be my match in a sword fight, you so-called ‘genius’!” he spat, livid.
Jiang Fei glanced at him and frowned. “Wait, what’s your name again? Su Mengnan? As in ‘mighty man’ (猛男), or ‘acting cute’ (卖萌)?”
“It’s Mengnan—as in ‘alliance’ (盟)! Are you trying to pick a fight?!” Su Mengnan’s face darkened further.
Truth be told, his name was… unusual. Who knew what his nouveau riche father had been thinking? It was practically child abuse. Were we father and son in this life just because we were enemies in the last?
Thanks to that name, his male friends had called him “Bro Mighty” since childhood, while the girls dubbed him “Miss Cute”—much to his eternal frustration.
“Ah. Su Mengnan,” Jiang Fei nodded. “Let me be blunt: whether it’s unarmed combat or swordsmanship, you’re not qualified to be my opponent. If you were the one challenging me, I’d accept—because you’re so weak, I could easily defeat you without risking becoming a murderer.”
Whoosh!
Su Mengnan’s face flushed crimson. Rarely humiliated, his body trembled with rage. “Nobody stop me! Today, I’ll fight this bastard to the death! If I don’t chop him into eight pieces, I’ll renounce my family name!”
Sleeves rolled up, face bruised, he looked ready to charge at Jiang Fei for an epic three-hundred-round battle.
Yet after several seconds of dramatic posturing, he still hadn’t moved. He finally turned to Liu Yunduo with a pitiful whine:
“Alliance Queen… why aren’t you stopping me?”
You’re supposed to hold me back! Are you really going to let me fight this monster? That’s basically sending me to my death! Our queen has zero social awareness!
“You said ‘nobody stop me,’” Liu Yunduo retorted, shooting him an exasperated look. This troublemaker never helped—only added chaos.
Su Mengnan’s grievance deepened. Our queen has turned cruel. “But—”
“Enough. Stop making a scene,” Liu Yunduo cut him off, shaking her head.
Defeated, Su Mengnan could only glare at Jiang Fei before turning away like a sulking child.
Jiang Fei almost laughed. This brat wasn’t just arrogant—he had a natural talent for comedy! Wasting his skills here instead of starring in slapstick films is a crime.
No wonder the Swordsmanship Alliance had been infamous under his leadership. Any self-respecting martial artist would’ve steered clear.
…..
Liu Yunduo tightened her grip on the challenge letter and met Jiang Fei’s gaze squarely.
“A formal duel is more serious than a casual spar, but it’s not as dire as you imagine. The letter states ‘no regrets, life or death,’ but fatalities are rare unless both parties are sworn enemies. At worst, injuries occur.”
Jiang Fei nodded. “Losing limbs counts as an ‘injury.’ So does a ruined face. But do I strike you as the type to brutalize a flower like you?”
Liu Yunduo: “……”
This guy’s arrogance knows no bounds.
Did he truly believe she stood zero chance? That this duel would end with her maimed?
They said genius and madness were two sides of the same coin. Arrogance often came with the territory. Today, she understood why.
This so-called sword genius was insufferably full of himself.
Had he not heard? She’d recently defeated the top young master of Japan’s Miyamoto Two-Sword Style!
“I’m… not as weak as you think,” she said, suppressing her anger.
Jiang Fei replied earnestly, “I know. That’s exactly why this duel is dangerous. If you were weak—like Su Mighty-Man here—I’d agree, because I could effortlessly defeat you without killing you.”
Pfft—
Watching Jiang Fei’s utterly serious, sincere expression, Liu Yunduo and Su Mengnan nearly choked on their own rage.
Su Mengnan was infamous in his circle for his sharp tongue, love of showing off, and sheer obnoxiousness. But today, he’d met his match—no, his superior.
This guy outclassed him in every aspect of smugness, from deadpan sarcasm to shameless self-aggrandizement.
My blade thirsts for blood.
Liu Yunduo, too, began doubting whether this “genius” was legitimate or just a masterful fraud.
Her eyes turned frosty. “If you can defeat me, so be it. But regardless, you will accept this challenge.”
Jiang Fei chuckled. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll follow you everywhere with my sword—until you agree.” Her tone left no room for doubt.
“So you’re resorting to harassment?” Jiang Fei crossed his arms.
Liu Yunduo, now embodying the single-minded obsession of an ancient sword fanatic, replied, “If that’s how you see it, fine.”
“Why insist on fighting me? Are you that obsessed?”
“I’m not obsessed,” she said, locking eyes with him. “I just need to improve my swordsmanship quickly. Sparring with masters is the fastest way.”
“Then find other sword experts! I’m neither the most famous nor the tallest! Why not challenge Wudang, Shaolin, or Emei?”
She shook her head. “I’ve already experienced the sword styles of China’s major sects. Their techniques no longer help me grow. But yours—I’ve heard it’s unique, unparalleled, unlike any existing school. Fighting you would teach me something new.”
Jiang Fei’s lips twitched.
This woman—she’s sharp.
Once she’d seen a style, she lost interest. Now she wanted him, the shiny new toy? What am I, some trendy idol?
After a pause, he grudgingly accepted her logic but pressed further: “Why this desperation to improve? Do you crave invincibility?”
Liu Yunduo’s gaze drifted away, her expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, Jiang Fei thought he glimpsed something dark—hatred—buried deep within her eyes.
Who did she hate?
Why?
“A woman like me has no delusions of invincibility.”
“I only want—” Her voice turned to steel. “—to. Crush. Japanese. Swordsmanship.” Each word was a hammer strike.
She met his eyes again, cold and unyielding. “You may have heard—I recently defeated the top young master of the Miyamoto clan. In one month, I’ll face their family head, Miyamoto Ichizen—the strongest of them all.”
