Malfunctioning Utopia

Chapter 76: What? Sword Qi?!

Seeing Old Man Li hype himself up so much, Chen Huai’an couldn’t help but feel a bit excited.

"Watch closely, kid! My swordplay is crazy stylish!"

With that, Old Man Li got into position, executing a full Tai Chi Sword routine—starting slow, then gradually picking up speed, only to slow down again.

As expected of an old-timer, his swordsmanship was solid.

At least, to Chen Huai’an’s untrained eye, that’s all he could really say.

Old Man Li’s movements were graceful and fluid, clearly the product of years of practice. Everything flowed seamlessly, without the slightest awkward pause. It even looked like it could be used in an actual fight…

But something still felt off.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but some movements felt unnecessary—like they could be removed or replaced with something more efficient.

"Well? Feels swordy enough for you?"

Old Man Li stroked his beard, confidently sheathing his sword, his face practically glowing with pride—already prepared for Chen Huai’an to shower him with a 3,000-word essay of praise.

"It’s good. Very swordy!"

Chen Huai’an gave him a big thumbs-up.

Old Man Li’s smile immediately dropped.

"What, you think my swordplay’s lacking or something?"

"No, no!"

Realizing the misunderstanding, Chen Huai’an scratched his head awkwardly.

"Li Lao, I actually feel like I had some breakthroughs recently. How about you take a look?"

"Alright, but if I see flaws, I won’t hold back."

"Sounds good! Let me borrow your sword."

Chen Huai’an took the sword, steadied his breath, and closed his eyes for a moment.

His stance sank into a solid horse stance, his form shifting naturally into the "Crane Stance" from the Green Lotus Sword Manual.

The instant he took position—

Old Man Li, who had been prepared to critique harshly, suddenly widened his eyes in shock.

One day.

It had only been one day.

Yet this kid felt like an entirely different person.

Not only was his leg fully recovered, but just two days ago, he had still been a complete beginner.

But now—

His movements were flawless, his entire body moving as one unified entity.

Most importantly—

He had "Shen".

Modern martial arts were often mocked for being flashy and impractical, precisely because they focused only on form, neglecting "Shen"—the spirit of the technique.

True mastery lay in the balance of form and spirit.

And "Shen" was far more important than form alone.

Why did ancient soldiers drill the same thrusting motion endlessly?

Because through sheer repetition, they could break through their limits—understanding how to strike with maximum power, where to target for armor penetration, and how to react instantly in combat.

The moment that movement became second nature, when it no longer required thought—that was the birth of "Shen".

The best warriors forged their "Shen" through battle, refining their techniques until a single perfected strike could command a hundred-man battalion.

A general was simply a warrior who had mastered multiple "Shen" techniques.

As Old Man Li pondered this, Chen Huai’an had already completed the first twelve chapters of the Green Lotus Sword Manual.

At first, it was just individual stances.

But gradually, the moves flowed together, forming a seamless display of strikes—thrusting, slashing, sweeping—every motion clean and decisive, with no wasted effort.

For a moment—

Old Man Li could see it.

A swordsman in white, moving like a drifting dragon, swirling through the air with carefree elegance.

A sword in one hand, a jug of wine in the other—wild and unrestrained.

"This… this is impossible."

Old Man Li was utterly dumbfounded.

This kid wasn’t some novice.

He was a master.

No—even the masters he had seen before had never displayed "Shen" in so many techniques at once.

Most so-called masters only managed to embed "Shen" into two or three moves, and that alone made them famous.

But this kid—

Who the hell was he?!

Suddenly, the flowing sword movements halted.

Chen Huai’an stood tall and unmoving, eyes closed, his sword returning to its sheath.

His left hand held the scabbard, his right hand resting on the hilt.

A breeze swept past.

The air shimmered with sharp energy.

"A shooting star, white-feathered, sheathed at my waist—

A sword blossom, autumn lotus, its radiance unleashed."

The moment he finished speaking—

Shing—!

Old Man Li couldn’t even see the sword move.

All he saw was a silver arc of light, gleaming in the morning sun.

The light fractured, scattering like a blooming autumn lotus.

A faint hissing filled the air—

And then—

The petals of that illusory lotus began to shatter, fading into nothingness.

With a sharp clang, Chen Huai’an’s sword returned to its sheath.

Old Man Li stood there, speechless.

His throat felt dry, unable to form a single sound.

His mind buzzed, overwhelmed.

Was that… a sword technique a young man should be capable of?

That autumn lotus bloom—

Was that sword energy?!

How much raw power and speed would it take to pull that off?

How many years of experience did it take to reach this level?!

Chen Huai’an, however, simply frowned at the old poplar tree in front of him.

"Not good enough…"

His goal had been to cut off a tree branch.

Sure, Old Man Li’s sword wasn’t sharpened, but even a kid could lop off a branch with enough force, right?

Yet the branch still swayed in the wind, completely untouched.

"Forget it. It’s just game mechanics anyway—looks good enough."

He had already figured out the reason behind his progress.

That VR helmet he had worn must’ve directly mapped the sword techniques into his neural pathways.

That was why everything felt so natural today.

A glance at the time—almost 9 AM.

He still felt fine, but apparently, that sword routine had taken quite a while.

"Li Lao, it’s getting late. I need to stop by the market, so I’ll head out first."

He stuffed the sword back into Old Man Li’s hands, pried his fingers open to secure the sheath, and turned to leave.

It wasn’t until long after Chen Huai’an had disappeared that Old Man Li finally snapped out of his daze.

Without a word, his expression turned grim as he approached the poplar tree.

He didn’t look at the branches—he ran his hand along the trunk, feeling for something.

A moment later—

His fingers found a deep, thin groove in the bark.

So thin—as fine as a strand of hair.

If he hadn’t touched it, he might have never noticed it.

Old Man Li’s breathing stiffened.

His muscles tensed.

He walked around the tree—

And on the other side, he found another identical cut.

The sword had sliced through the entire trunk.

His hand trembled as he reached for his phone, dialing a number.

A rough, smoky voice answered—

"Yo, Old Li! Haven’t heard from you in ages—forgot about your old pal?"

Old Man Li ignored the joke.

"Old Peng, I need you to brace yourself. I just met a kid…"

"He can use Sword Qi."

"WHAT?!"

The voice on the other end skyrocketed eight octaves.

"Are you sure?!"

"Dead sure."

Old Man Li stared at the poplar tree’s cut, voice quivering.

"Right in front of me. Swish—one sword straight through."

"Stay there, don’t move! I’m coming over from the Demon Slayers Bureau—NOW!"

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