Supreme Swordsman of the Nine Heavens

Dustfallen Swordplay

“Dustfallen Swordplay comprises of nine technique, each complementing and independent of each other. Each technique has is unique in its own way. The techniques can be used to close gaps, retreat, attack and guard. For now, you only need to memorise them. You will need to invest time to explore the application of each technique. Once you have mastered all nine techniques, you will grasp the swordplay’s intricacies.”

Feng Haochen summoned a flying sword to his hand before Mu Yu knew it. It looked ordinary and worn out, but Mu Yu speculated there was more to it than what met the eye. Feng Haochen transitioned from one technique to the next naturally and leisurely. Swordplay was akin to threading a needle, calm, precise, calculated. Feng Haochen’s sword seemed to have a will of its own, switching between moments of tranquillity and moments off violence. Watching his sword slash and gash was intimidating.

“Dustfallen Swordplay’s first technique: Falling Leave Dances to Heaven. Focus on controlled movement.”

Feng Haochen flicked up leaves and directed them with his sword. The key was to control wildness with calmness. Like a pebble creating ripples in a body of water, the wielder needed to use sword qi to direct the leaves, wielding them as if they were one’s sword.

Mu Yu grabbed the sword in front of him and began to imitate the movements he witnessed his shifu execute. He tried to grasp the intent of the technique but felt something was missing no matter how closely he imitated the visible techniques.

Clang! Feng Haochen intercepted Mu Yu’s sword from above casually. Their swords vibrated correspondingly. Whenever Mu Yu reached a difficult point, Feng Haochen would guide Mu Yu’s movement to help complete the swordplay naturally. Eventually, the looming mental fog lifted, allowing Mu Yu to imagine the intent guiding him by his side.

“All I can do is introduce you to the sect. Your development is on you.”

Feng Haochen pulled his sword back and nodded, pleased with Mu Yu’s quick progress.

Mu Yu opened his eyes and checked the sword in his hand. He hadn’t grasped even one ninth of the intents; however, he saw it as an opportunity to delve deep into it. He sensed a small amount of spiritual energy within him, getting him off on a good start.

Mu Yu summoned his flying sword again, moving his feet and body in coordination.

Dustfallen Swordplay’s second technique: Roiling Qi and Fallen Dust. Collect Qi to Penetrate the Spirit. Qi and Spirit Return to Genesis.

Mu Yu was so invested in the sword techniques it was as if he didn’t know exhaustionHe tried to link the components, but he couldn’t. As such, he inquired, “Shifu, I feel I am missing something. I am unable to flow as naturally as you.”

Feng Haochen smiled. “You’re missing Dustfallen Stance. Our discipline consists of three most integral components: Dustfallen Mental Cultivation for your foundation. Dustfallen Swordplay is for physical training. Dustfallen Stance is to sculpt your body. Dustfallen Stance is a sword technique movement discipline. You need to understand the intent of your techniques and combine your body movements with your swordplay for it to flow naturally.”

Feng Haochen took a step forward and rose as if he levitated effortlessly, creating illusions as he moved in each direction. The steps were clear to the naked eye, yet they could confuse the observer. Mu Yu tried to imitate it but immediately noticed he was unable to exhibit the same degree of balance and tripped.

“You don’t need spiritual energy to learn Dustfallen Stance. Ordinary people view it as an advanced qinggong. Although it can’t hold a candle to a cultivator, you will be able to glide and walk up walls. You cannot keep up with me for you haven’t grasped the changes that take place. You need to learn the very basics.”

Mu Yu nodded, determined to weather the long process to mastery.

The sun had climbed to the peak in the sky. Mu Yu spent the entire time training Dustfallen Swordplay and trying to combine Dustfallen Stance into the mix. He displayed considerable progress within a single day. Alas, his hunger couldn’t be contained.

“Shifu, can we eat yet?”

“I was so focused on teaching you that I forgot to prepare breakfast. Those brats must be starving.”

They weren’t starving. They were on the verge of crying because nobody dared to eat the food Uncle An prepared on behalf of their shifu. Uncle An enjoyed his own cooking, nevertheless. He asked, “Are you not hungry? I guess you could drink water since you’ll be training under the waterfall.”

Xiang Nan pulled a funny face and picked up a roast sweet potato. The burnt portions peeled off as soon as he touched it. By the time he peeled off all of the burnt portions, there was only a thumb-sized potato left. Roast potato wasn’t too bad as long as there was something to eat. The only food they, therefore, dared to eat were the roast potatoes. Nobody wanted to risk his health on the stir-fried vegetables.

“Are Shifu and Mu Yu still not back?”

While Cheng Yan didn’t want to eat, he couldn’t turn down Uncle An, but he wanted to be a model senior brother, so he risked his well-being on the vegetables. In saying that, he chewed and chewed but didn’t dare to swallow. Munching on green cabbage and white cabbage for two hours was practically torture. The white cabbage resembled food served at refugee camps after natural disasters.

“We’re back. I’m starving,” hollered Mu Yu, coming in.

Mu Yu cheerfully put a green cabbage into his mouth but quickly blasted it back out.

“Is my cooking bad?”

Mu Yu shuddered upon seeing Uncle An’s gaze on him.

“No, it is terrific.” Mu Yu picked up the cabbage and ate it again. As he chewed, he added, “It was just too hot…”

Despite scorning Mu Yu, the others praised the food as they dug in, too. Given Uncle An’s seniority was second only to Patriarch Feng, it probably wasn’t a wise idea to get on the former’s bad side.

Feng Haochen soon came in, carrying a tray of luscious roast meat. His disciples reacted as if they saw their messiah. Feng Haochen chuckled in response to their reactions. “Eat up!”

Lan Ling’er: “Xiang Nan, you and me against First Senior Brother.”

Xiang Nan nodded. “Deal!”

Mu Yu was soon given a visual explanation. Cheng Yan, Xiang Nan and Lan Ling’er duked it out on the tray with their chopsticks. Cheng Yan didn’t struggle against the two; he snagged several pieces of meat, much to their chagrin. Mu Yu wanted in, but Cheng Yan flicked the former’s chopsticks out of the way as soon as Mu Yu entered the fray. Feng Haochen leisurely grabbed a few pieces for Kongkong and Miaomiao before grabbing some for Mu Yu and himself, as well. Uncle An continued to enjoy his own dishes while the trio continued with their contest.

Mu Yu learnt an important lesson: get good or no food. Kongkong and Miaomiao pouted because they couldn’t partake in the competition.

Glossary

Discipline vs Style – I don’t treat them as synonyms. If your style is boxing, then the way you utilise the skills you’re taught is your style. It’s why saying, “Learn Muay Thai because it’s practical” is ignorant advice. Even among camps in Thailand, there will be differences. Some coaches promote locks in clinches, while some advocate not locking – stylistic differences – but they’re still Muay Thai.

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