Ze Tian Ji

Edited by: Michyrr

If one were to view the Intellectual Sword as a topic, the topic would have far too many starting points, far too many factors, and far too much information. Even just confirming them all would be far too strenuous, not to mention calculating the final outcome.

Chen Changsheng decided that it would impossible for him to perform such calculations, or at least it would impossible to complete one round of calculations in the heat of battle. He even began to doubt that anyone could complete this sort of calculation, except that Su Li’s performance in the battle that morning was proof that at least he could do it. Of course, Su Li was no normal man, but if he could do it, perhaps it meant that it was possible.

The dark lake and the distant mountains were right before his eyes, so he very quickly broke out of his discouraged and fearful mood. He thought about how the Yeshi Step had so many positions, but he knew them by heart and could even use them. Even if he did not have the talent to calculate and see through the hearts of others, perhaps he could use this somewhat stupid method to reach his goal. He did not have the time to perform the calculations in battle, so he should just simulate countless scenarios in advance, turning these calculations into instinct, and perhaps truly saving himself some time.

The question was, how would he simulate these countless scenarios? If he were back at the capital, there would be some possibility, but out here, where would he find so many Star Condensation experts to battle? If he were to fail at those problems, would he not be killed by his opponents?

He realized that there were countless glimmers of stars in the dark lake before his eyes. Those were the reflections of the stars. He lifted his head up to gaze at the night sky, only seeing the countless stars on the pitch-black curtain of the night calmly looking back.

The Human race (the divine race) is the world’s most complex subject of research. Because they have different levels of intellect and different experiences in life, the changes in their mood and the movements of their minds will create even more states that vary according to the situation. As a result, their final outlook will be nothing like another’s. They are incredibly complex, so we can only compare ourselves with the boundless sky of stars.

This was the rueful sigh of regret spoken to the starry sky many years ago by that most erudite Pope who had contributed the most knowledge to humanity, then recorded in the annals of the Orthodoxy. In that generation, there was also a learned demon scholar called Tong Gusi who, when traveling south to Snowhold Pass, saw the sky filled with stars, and in his amazement, said something similar.

As he looked up at the stars, Chen Changsheng thought of those words, sensing his own distant red star that not even the eyes could see. He lifted his right hand and pointed at a certain region of stars in the night sky, then took a star chart down from that place and placed it in front of his eyes—of course, this was just a visualization, not something that actually happened.

On that very last night in the Mausoleum of Books, he had taken the lines of the seventeen monoliths of the front mausoleum and formed them into a star chart—precisely the one that was in front of his eyes right now. To the entire starry sky, the star chart was only a tiny part, but upon it were millions and millions of stars. Before his eyes, they emitted rays of light, some bright and some dim. They seemed solemn and eternal, serene and unmoving.

However, he knew that these stars were incessantly moving.

Every one of these stars was a factor itself. The movement of the stars indicated that the stars were changing. Like the increase of age, like the failing of strength, like the decline of courage, like the gradual onset of the omens of death. If the traces in the starry sky represented fate, then did the changes in the stars represent how the many elements that decided fate were changing?

The combination of the orbits of the stars was fate. Everything lay within them.

Not even the Star Domain of a Star Condensation cultivator could surpass this scope. The movement of the many stars was just like the movement of Qi. The brightening and dimming of the stars were like the strengthening and weakening of Qi. Every single factor, every single piece of information, could find its counterpart in the orbit of the stars. It was just that those factors were even more real, not as profound. In simpler words, those factors could be calculated and observed.

If one could make the boundless sky of stars seem simple and concise, if one could find a way out of the sky filled with stars, one would naturally be able to find the weak point in a cultivator’s Star Domain. However...the stars moved, and this did not change even when they formed the many factors of a cultivator. So how could one obtain that final, clear result?

Without using much time, Chen Changsheng understood. Just like the star chart, the position of the star did not mean that the star would always be there. Rather, it was just the place where, over the course of millions and millions of years, the star most often appeared. It was just a question of probability. A star was most likely to appear at the present position, so the star was there. A sword was most likely to pierce at this place, so that was where it would pierce. A Star Domain would most likely change this way, so that was how it would change. It was very difficult to describe it in words, but he understood. Then he began to work on his first problem.

In his first time cultivating the Intellectual Sword, he did not slash at a Star Condensation expert, but at the entire sky of stars. He calmly gazed at the starry sky, countless streams of light flowing in his bright and limpid eyes. Each stream of light was a factor or a parameter. He earnestly remembered everything in front of his eyes, then began to calculate, until he was caught in a trance.

At five o’clock in the morning, Chen Changsheng opened his eyes. Through the entire night, he had not slept. The positions of the countless stars had gradually been seared into his sea of consciousness. Those extremely complex calculations had required countless amounts of spiritual sense and mental strength. Yet for some reason, he did not feel exhausted. When his body was struck by the morning wind, he even felt refreshed.

He had already touched upon the true meaning of the Intellectual Sword.

Of course, he clearly understood that for him to truly grasp the Intellectual Sword, he would still need many more nights.

Su Li was reclining against the warm body of one of the furry deer. He looked at him with some surprise, then began to chuckle.

In the following days, Chen Changsheng continued to observe the starry sky, developing and polishing his Intellectual Sword of which not even a prototype had yet taken shape. Su Li gave him no further instructions, sleeping very soundly every night, but he deliberately decreased the speed of their return south. Su Li keenly understood that Chen Changsheng was currently at the most crucial stage. If he could truly grasp the Intellectual Sword, perhaps the next time he faced off against a Star Condensation expert, he really could catch one off guard and obtain victory. Therefore, he would prefer to sacrifice a little of their speed.

Yes, whether it was Su Li who was passing down the sword or Chen Changsheng who was learning the sword, from the start to finish, they had restricted the opponents they would meet on the journey south to the Star Condensation Realm. This was because cultivators under Star Condensation would not be able to beat Chen Changsheng, and if a cultivator above the Star Condensation Realm actually came, such as one of those old monsters at the Saint Realm, what meaning would there be in polishing the sword before the battle?

If the situation continued to develop like so, perhaps in another couple dozen days, Chen Changsheng really could have borrowed the sky filled with starlight to successfully polish his Intellectual Sword. Regretfully, this world would never give the severely injured Su Li such a long amount of time. Even more regretfully, Chen Changsheng’s opponent finally appeared. With a battle ahead, no matter how one saw it, there was no time for such a painstaking labor as polishing the sword.

For Chen Changsheng to finish polishing his Intellectual Sword, he would still need several dozen, or even several thousand, ordinary and uninteresting nights of deep spring. Two hundred li from Tianliang County, on a barren mountain, an extremely enchanting man appeared. That man was wearing lipstick and wearing a dancing dress. He looked just like a dancer. In brief, he was just like Xue He several days ago. No matter how one looked at it, he did not seem like an assassin.

Chen Changsheng was rather confused. "Why is it that when they appear, they never seem like assassins? Or is it that to be considered a good assassin, you can’t seem like an assassin? Is this the creed of assassins?"

"The creed of assassins? What shit are you pulling?" Su Li teased, "Appearing with such a ghastly appearance, do you think they were happy about it? It was just that they were too rushed, so where could they find the time to change clothes?"