The court lackeys of the eight-hour workday

Chapter 487 Swordsman
Li Miao crossed his arms, leaned against the corner, looked Huangfu Hui up and down, and asked.

"You recognize me?"

Huangfu Hui, who was sitting on the ground, suddenly pushed himself up with both hands and fell forward, pressing his forehead hard against the ground.

"I've heard of it, I've heard my elders in the family mention the adult's name."

Li Miao smiled.

"Then why aren't you dead yet? Did chatting keep you from dying?"

Huangfu Hui trembled upon hearing this, not from fear, but from joy.

"My lord...may I die?"

As he spoke, he slowly raised his hand and placed it on his forehead, looking at Li Miao with excitement and anticipation in his eyes. He was just waiting to hear Li Miao's answer before he would rip open his skull and get a quick and painless death.

Unexpectedly, before Li Miao could answer, the kimono-clad man who had been slapped by him suddenly spoke up.

"Your Mightiness--"

The voice abruptly stopped, and the expression and movements also froze.

puff.

The man in the kimono fell to the ground.

Li Miao casually withdrew her finger.

"Children shouldn't interrupt when adults are talking."

Huangfu Hui trembled even more violently.

He was kneeling on the ground, his head hitting the ground, his gaze turned so that he could see the man in a kimono on the ground behind him.

The man in the kimono is still alive.

Not only did he not die, but he was also extremely lucid.

But he was clearly experiencing extremely terrible pain. Although he couldn't move his entire body, his pupils were trembling violently, the whites of his eyes were slowly turning pale red, and his eyelids were twitching incessantly—but he couldn't even let out a wail.

You can't live, you can't die.

This is the result of it falling into this person's hands.

Huangfu Hui had already gathered all his inner energy, waiting only for Li Miao's affirmative answer before he could smash his own head with a single palm strike. But before Li Miao spoke, he didn't even dare to die.

He hated the man in the kimono even more, feeling he should have killed him with a single blow, but instead the man had lived, delaying his own death. What if his interference changed Li Miao's mind and prevented him from dying?
Huangfu Hui's resentment grew stronger, yet she still hoped that Li Miao could give her a quick and decisive answer.

Li Miao ignored him completely. Under Huangfu Hui's despairing gaze, he turned to look at the old man who had been silent since the beginning.

"Old man, what's your name?"

The old man replied in a deep voice.

"I am Tsukahara Bokuden, the Sword Saint."

Li Miao scoffed.

"Hmm... Sword Saint?"

His gaze shifted downwards, locking onto the Japanese sword in Tsukahara Hakuden's hand.

"You call this a sword?"

Tsukahara Bokuden slowly raised his sword to the present moment, the firelight in the room flowing across the blade, gilding it with a golden glow.

"You don't intend to utter meaningless insults like Huangfu Jun, do you?"

Li Miao smiled and shrugged.

"So what?"

Tsukahara Bokuden shook his head.

"I don't think so, Your Excellency."

Li Miao tilted her head.

"Oh? Why do you see it?"

"Tsukahara Bokuden said in a deep voice."

"Because you were able to get within ten feet of me silently without making a move."

"The moment I saw you, I knew you were no weakling among the martial arts masters of the Central Plains. Even in Japan, you would be one of the few who could reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship." "And the martial arts of Japan are different from those of the Central Plains. We do not emphasize the balance of internal and external strength; all we seek and cultivate in our lives is the sword in our hands... Therefore, even if we cannot see the true qi circulating in an opponent's body, we can still roughly sense the nature of the 'qi' on their body."

Tsukahara Bokuden's gaze toward Li Miao grew increasingly solemn.

"In the parlance of the Central Plains, you are a 'martial arts fanatic' far beyond ordinary people... You must have been quite lonely during your years in the Central Plains. For martial artists like you and me, having no opponents is the greatest torture."

"You didn't launch a sneak attack on me because it's the first time you've met an opponent who can face you head-on, so you want to fight me to the death... I understand."

Tsukahara Bokuden suddenly brandished his sword.

"It's alright, I'll be your opponent!"

"The Biography of the Sword Saint, Tsukahara, is hereby submitted!"

Having said that, he slightly moved his feet, his aura and eyes already firmly locking onto Li Miao, ready to strike with his sword and fight Li Miao!
Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished speaking, a sneer suddenly came from the side.

"Hehe, hahahahaha—"

Tsukahara Bokuzen frowned as he looked at it.

But Huangfu Hui, who had been waiting to commit suicide, now raised her head and looked at him with a smile. Her already bloodied face was now full of mockery and resentment.

Huangfu Hui truly hated these Japanese people.

I told you to leave, but you wouldn't. I wanted to die, but you kept interrupting me. Now you're saying all this nonsense... What if that guy gets angry and won't let me die?
"Old dog, don't flatter yourself!"

"You didn't notice the adults were coming because you weren't capable enough! As for why I didn't kill you earlier—do you ever think about sneaking food to your plate when no one's looking while you're eating?"

"The lord has only come here and has not killed you yet, but you have already pondered so many unnecessary things and even want to be the lord's opponent—how ridiculous, how ridiculous! Hahahaha!"

While venting her resentment, Huangfu Hui glanced at Li Miao out of the corner of her eye, trying to see if her words could improve Li Miao's mood.

Tsukahara Bokuden's expression darkened.

If it were just Huangfu Hui saying that, he naturally wouldn't care.

But Li Miao on the other side didn't refute him at all. Instead, he smiled and looked at him, leaning lazily against the corner of the wall, without any intention of getting into a fighting stance.

It's as if... what Huangfu Hui said is true.

How could he possibly believe it?

The decline of the Central Plains martial arts world is evident to all the Japanese masters who have visited it. As a master holding the title of "Sword Saint," he is already one of the top masters in Japan. It is neither possible nor expected that the Central Plains martial arts world would produce someone capable of overwhelming him!
Thinking of this, Tsukahara Bokuden let out a long sigh.

Yes, warrior, you should not engage in verbal disputes.

Strength and weakness, right and wrong, all lie on the edge of the sword!
With just one strike, everything will become clear!
He slowly focused his mind on the blade, his feet shifting slightly, his front foot extending a few inches, his weight shifting onto his back foot, his knees slightly bent. His left hand gripped the end of the hilt, controlling it between his thumb and forefinger.

Before Huangfu Hui entered the stone chamber, he had been sitting there for a long time, his Japanese sword resting on his lap for just as long, accumulating some dampness. Now, as he lowered the blade, a drop of dew slowly gathered along the edge and rolled onto the tip.

Tick.

Dew is falling.

Huangfu Hui, who had been cursing incessantly, suddenly shut up.

The instant the dewdrop touched the ground, he seemed to see hundreds of swords suddenly swirling in the stone chamber, piercing his body and bringing with them a torrential downpour of blood—but when he came to his senses, he saw nothing at all.

What I just saw was just an illusion.

But when he shifted his gaze to the blade of Tsukahara Bokuden, those swords seemed to reappear around him, taking over every one of his senses.

Li Miao raised an eyebrow.

"Ji Zhao?"

"It doesn't seem like it. It's more like... when practicing certain martial arts that require visualizing things, those images that exist in the mind appear before one's eyes... Interesting."

He loosened his arms, his left hand still tucked into his clothes, but his right hand suddenly jerked.

brush-

With a whoosh, a semi-transparent, standard-issue longsword made of protective true energy appeared in his hand, swaying as it pointed at Tsukahara Bokuden's face.

"Old man, you just said you were a swordsman?"

"You also said that you look down on the martial arts of the Central Plains?"

Li Miao said with a smile.

"Perfect timing. I know a little about all the sword techniques of the Central Plains. Today I will teach you... what a sword truly is."

(End of this chapter)