CHAPTER 231: CHAPTER 205: QIN QINGLUO’S GUN

"Who would have thought that within a lotus flower, there hides a miniature world of the Six Paths of Reincarnation? And though small like a sparrow, it possesses all five viscera and six bowels."

A deep purple spear stood upright at the prow of a solitary boat drifting on the river. A towering woman gazed afar across the waters, and soon a smaller boat sped in its direction.

The river wind surged mightily.

From the distance came waves of chanting.

The woman in red chuckled softly and said,

"Prince, the ones who will test your spear have arrived."

Qin Qingluo also smiled,

"A pity it’s not Chen Yi, but even two monks will suffice for a trial."

To newly step into the Fourth Rank is to be at the peak of one’s momentum.

Thus, one’s first battle after entering the Fourth Rank is of utmost importance.

Qin Qingluo had already raised the tip of her spear.

Surrounding her seemed to be traces of purple lightning, faintly shimmering under the glass-like light.

Aunt Zhu asked,

"Prince, you intend to test the spear against these two bald donkeys?"

Qin Qingluo responded with a question instead,

"Princess, do you know why the whole world recognizes the spear as king among weapons, yet some still wield swords or knives?"

The woman in red answered softly,

"Of course. A month for the staff, a year for the blade, and a lifetime for the spear. Among the myriad weapons, spear technique is the hardest to master."

Qin Qingluo shook her head lightly, his tone flat,

"Not so."

"Not so?"

"When it comes to matters of life and death, who cares about easy or hard? Learning what’s easy leads to death; mastering what’s hard allows survival. Is the world full of fools who fail to understand such logic?"

"Then why doesn’t everyone study the spear?"

The lone boat drew nearer and nearer as the red-clad woman’s face grew solemn.

The towering woman remained composed,

"Because not everyone is suited for the spear. Those who wield blades or swords often advance without regard for retreat, charging forward without a return path—a mere way of the brute. Even a common man can slay with a single stroke. But the spear, it’s different."

Pausing briefly, Qin Qingluo then asked,

"Princess, do you know what the great truth of the spear is?"

Being from the Zhu family, descended from the great spear master Zhu Diji, the woman in red naturally knew of the spear’s truths. She replied,

"Pierce, sweep, chop?"

"Those are merely surface techniques."

"Then what’s the core?"

"Measure—precision and balance."

Qin Qingluo slightly lifted the Purple Electric Spear, now seeing the smaller boat pressing forward within a hundred-zhang distance. At its prow stood the wild monk reciting the Rebirth Mantra.

With the impending clash, the woman in red turned pale.

Qin Qingluo remained motionless, letting the river wind whip her sleeves into a flurry.

"A spearman moves and retreats with precision, holding precisely within a two-zhang boundary. Moving forward claims an enemy’s life, retreating circles around as shield. Yet the hardest balance to achieve in this world lies in ’measure.’

Blades and swords lack the concept of ’measure,’ and thus, blades are inferior to swords, and swords to spears."

With those words, Qin Qingluo said no more.

The woman in red held her breath.

The towering woman turned, her body twisted with circular motion resembling a crescent moon. When the solitary boat was within ten zhang, she struck with the slightest precision, unleashing a downward sweep from the spear.

The gunwind tore fiercely, and lightning exploded across the waters.

Boom!

The waters within ten zhang split apart in an instant, and the smaller boat was abruptly forced under, cascading into the depths!

The strike fell like a dragon diving to earth.

Two robed monk figures leapt into the air. The Western monk glanced down at the cleaved waters, his heart racing.

The solitary boat crashed deep into the river, its fragments scattering in a flurry.

In mid-air above, the Western monk took his stance, executing the Dragon Elephant Wisdom Fist as golden Arhat-like radiance surged from his body, surrounded by the cries of the Eight Heavenly Dragons.

The wild monk likewise lifted his staff—a short rod—lunging forward with a ferocious downward smash aimed squarely at retaliation.

The deep purple spearlight curved into a stunning arc, sweeping with the force of a thousand armies, crashing bluntly upon the wild monk.

The monk’s robe split apart. The Zen-practiced Vajra Unbreakable Body beneath, which should withstand mountains and stones with unshaken force, now cracked like brittle crystal into horrifying fissures.

The wild monk spat blood, halting his chant of the Rebirth Mantra, his entire figure sent flying dozens of zhang away.

His body skipped across the water’s surface, bouncing and rebounding like a stone on the water.

The Western monk’s pupils contracted sharply at the sight.

The wild monk’s body-hardening technique, honed in Zen Buddhism’s Vajra Unbreakable Body, should have aligned deeply with the truths of Buddha.

Yet it had been so effortlessly shattered by this single strike of the spear.

Which meant—this Prince held even deeper truths of Buddha within her power!

Though his mind spiraled with realization, the Western monk’s fist stance remained firm. He could only charge ahead.

This was precisely the brute way of advancing retreatlessly that Qin Qingluo spoke of.

Qin Qingluo planted her feet firmly, pulling her spear-tip back before twisting her body again, channeling her full force into a thunderous thrust.

A piercing gale roared forth at the spear-tip, lightning abruptly raising blinding flashes as the Western monk charged directly into it, unleashing a fist with the surging might of dragons and elephants.

A deafening explosion erupted, louder than thunder.

The solitary boat beneath Qin Qingluo’s feet sank several inches, and the river water fell briefly still before surging outward in waves.

Enormous opposing forces clashed; the Western monk’s fist and the spear-tip collided, his figure frozen momentarily before the Eight Heavenly Dragons cried mournfully in the air.

Then the vast Buddha Light of Glass radiance shook his soul.

Inconceivable, incomprehensible—a force beyond comprehension.

Only now did he realize the Qin Qingluo before him outmatched ordinary Fourth Rank experts by far!

The Western monk’s body was hurled into the air, likewise skipping across the water’s surface in an endless tumble.

As the spear-tip slowly retracted, the splintered waters converged toward the solitary boat’s center. Qin Qingluo gave a faint, bitter smile, as though dissatisfied.

"Not enough to savor." Qin Qingluo murmured softly.

The woman in red, stunned by the display, stood speechless.

Her Prince—just how far had she ascended?

Her hands trembled uncontrollably.

As someone hailing from a spear-loving lineage, she understood—

Not everyone suited the spear.

But the woman before her was its perfect match.

"Fortunately, there’s yet another battle."

Qin Qingluo withdrew her spear, an unfulfilled sigh,

"Next is the West Factory Thousand Households."

.........

By the lakeside, a nun gazed distantly at the scene.

Not far from her knelt Zhao Bai, the last heir of the Joyful Sect, fidgeting uneasily.

The nun did not glance at him but instead spoke, "You tampered with the vestment robe in secret, thinking I’d recognize it and let it pass without mention?"

Zhao Bai, pale-faced, stammered, too afraid to utter half a word.

After a long silence, the nun still kept quiet, prompting him to drop to his knees with a thud, bowing repeatedly.

"I was foolish, arrogantly scheming, and nearly ruined the master’s great plan."

The nun, however, laughed instead of taking offense, "Who says you ruined the plan?"

Zhao Bai looked up in bewilderment.

"Do you think your little tricks of cleverness weren’t guided subtly by me from the shadows?" The nun revealed slowly.

In that instant, Zhao Bai realized with a jolt—his minor schemes had not only failed to elude the nun’s insight but had been orchestrated by her all along!

"Rise. This matter shall go unpunished."

The nun lifted her staff and walked away slowly.

She had added her brushstroke to Zhao Bai’s subtle tinkering, weaving effortlessly into the flow of events.

A seed of devilry had already taken root amidst Qin Qingluo’s glass-like light.

And what was most intriguing—

Qin Qingluo fully understood it.

After all, both sides knew well that their alliance was nothing more than a dance with the tiger.