I Didn't Teach That She Actually Knows It

The atmosphere on the dueling platform was somewhat eerie. Despite being at a complete disadvantage in every aspect, Little Jiang, with her sunglasses on and an emotionless demeanor, somehow exuded an overwhelming presence.

She hadn’t even drawn her sword (she’d forgotten).

Meanwhile, Princess Yuyang was already drenched in sweat.

Suddenly, it felt as though everything was under the control of Li Mo and Ying Bing—Jiang Chulong couldn’t even be bothered to unsheathe her sword, as if she didn’t consider her opponent a threat at all.

Right.

Why would Jiang Chulong dare to return to the imperial capital and openly appear before the Eldest Prince?

Did she not fear even the Crown Prince himself?

"Chulong, just use the sword techniques that master taught you," Li Mo suddenly called from below the stage.

Master?!

A cold sweat broke out on Princess Yuyang’s forehead. Just what kind of existence could be referred to as a "master" by even the "Divine Hammer Little Tyrant"?

Drip—

A bead of sweat fell to the ground, shattering into glistening fragments.

That drop broke the tension, snapping Princess Yuyang’s frayed nerves. She decided to strike first—no matter what tricks her opponent had, they wouldn’t get the chance to use them...

With a resonant hum of steel, her figure darted forward like a startled swan, her swordplay flowing like a dragon coursing downstream.

The dragon moved with the ebb and flow of the tide, yet maintained its own rhythm.

She transformed formless water into tangible substance—a single strike carrying the momentum of a dragon plunging into a river, unending and relentless.

Could Jiang Chulong block it?

Little Li, who also served as the Heavenly Venerable’s teacher, kept a straight face, though inwardly, he was sweating bullets.

This wasn’t like the Sword Trial Tournament in Hengyun Sword City anymore—this wasn’t a measured exchange of martial techniques. With this oppressive sword style, amplified by her cultivation realm, the pressure was immense.

There was no denying it—Princess Yuyang’s swordsmanship was exceptional, having mastered this supreme technique to perfection.

The good news was, the "Fighting King’s Secret Art" had worked.

The flawlessly flowing dragon-like sword intent, due to her hasty strike, had one discordant flaw!

"Not as good as those real dragons..."

Little Jiang’s eyes gleamed faintly.

She had spotted the inconsistency in her opponent’s dragon-like swordplay at first glance—after all, she had seen real dragons.

And fought them.

Without this flaw, she might have had to endure a grueling battle, slowly forcing her opponent to reveal weaknesses.

But now, breaking this sword technique had become much simpler.

The Green Leaf Sword silently left its sheath, releasing an unremarkable, faint glimmer of sword light.

The crowd was stunned.

Such a feeble sword energy, and she was still launching a counterattack? Wasn’t this like a mayfly trying to shake a tree or a mantis trying to stop a chariot?

The nobles in the VIP section thought the same—the Fourth Prince even smirked.

Someone had just informed him that the Divine Hammer Little Tyrant had placed a heavy bet on Jiang Chulong’s victory. Wasn’t this just free money?

Only Jiang Yu’s expression froze, his dual-pupiled eyes flashing with shock and disbelief.

The faint sword light persisted within the dragon’s sword intent—still weak, yet impossible to ignore.

Like a blade of grass with roots dug deep, no wind from any direction, no surging river, could shake it. It was merely waiting for its chance—to see the sunlight and grow wildly...

Then, a surge of overwhelming sword energy erupted, its terrifying edge soaring violently.

With a flip of the Green Leaf, it severed the dragon and split the heavens.

Snap—

A crisp sound later, the terrifying sword light vanished as quickly as it appeared, as if everything had been an illusion.

Jiang Chulong and Jiang Yuyang passed each other—one sheathing her sword calmly, the other frozen in place.

The arena fell silent for a moment.

Those with lower cultivation stood dumbfounded, unsure of what had just happened.

Those with higher realms and knowledge of the sword gasped in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"Did she win or lose?" Xiao Qin silently asked his teacher.

"This girl has forged her own path in the sword—a brand-new sword dao..." murmured the Thousand Forms Martial Venerable, who had been feigning death since entering the inner city.

Clang—

Half of a broken sword fell to the ground—the severed remains of the top-tier weapon once held by Princess Yuyang. The cut was smooth as a mirror, alongside a few strands of hair.

"Did I win?"

Jiang Chulong adjusted her sunglasses, quietly exhaling in relief.

Then she hurried off the stage.

To others, it seemed like she had delivered a single strike, then walked away with the detached grace of a true master...

In reality, Little Jiang was so nervous under everyone’s gaze that she immediately rushed to Li Mo’s side, clutching his sleeve.

"Big Brother Li, I won a lot of rice."

"Yeah, not bad..." Li Mo nodded blankly.

"What kind of sword technique was that just now?" Ying Bing asked.

He didn’t recall Jiang Chulong ever comprehending such a technique in her past life.

Li Mo was also baffled—he hadn’t taught her that.

Why not? Because he didn’t know it either!

"The Heavenly Venerable teacher showed me... um... some scenes. I memorized them after seeing them once. That sword was pretty hard—I spent a long time figuring it out."

"A single blade of grass severing the sun, moon, and stars?"

"Yeah. Big Brother Li, you’ve seen it too?"

"......"

Little Li sucked in a sharp breath.

That was something he’d made up to motivate her to practice the sword!

Wait... you actually comprehended it?!

"I just barely grasped it, so I didn’t dare show it to the teacher yet."

Jiang Chulong hung her head shyly.

She felt it wasn’t polished enough—showing off to the Heavenly Venerable would be embarrassing.

"......"

Li Mo felt as though he’d been stabbed through the heart.

At least the small fortune they’d just won soothed his wounded soul a little.

"Big Brother Li, how much rice did we win?"

......

"Three golden mountains, five hundred mystic crystals—at an eight-to-one payout."

"I lost twenty-four golden mountains and four thousand mystic crystals?"

The Fourth Prince’s face turned deathly pale, his teacup trembling in his grip, spilling tea all over his lap. His body seemed to have lost all strength.

The other nobles paid him no mind, their gazes shifting meaningfully toward the Great Yu Crown Prince.

That day, Jiang Yu had entered the cold palace.

When he emerged, he was covered in blood, clutching a struggling sword-shaped bone in his hand. Soon after, a sedan chair was carried out.

No one heard crying—only faint, delirious murmurs from within:

"Mother... I want to eat hot rice..."

"It hurts... it really, really hurts..."

The sedan chair was carried beyond the palace walls. They thought they would never see that ghostly little girl again—the one who had grown up in the dark crevices of the deep palace.

Yet she had returned. Without that bone, she hadn’t died—instead, she had miraculously grown even stronger.

And what of Jiang Yu, who had stolen the sword bone?