Online Game: Me, with Unparalleled Comprehension

The mental cultivation method of "Harmony with the World" circulated smoothly within my body. With each complete cycle, a notification would pop up precisely at the edge of my vision:

[Harmony with the World Proficiency +336]

Wu Feng's heart stirred slightly, a hint of doubt creeping in. Could cultivating internal energy in this bamboo forest clearing really offer a double proficiency bonus?

He knew that practicing swordsmanship here would give him an advantage, but he didn't expect to enjoy the same treatment when cultivating internal energy.

This place is indeed a blessed land.

With a change of heart, he felt at ease.

Cultivating here is highly efficient, so there's no reason not to use it.

However, besides seeking the double boost, he also harbored some other thoughts while sitting here cultivating his internal energy today—to try his luck.

Let's see if that elusive Master Zhang will happen to pass by, and perhaps he can offer some guidance.

But Zhang Sanfeng hasn't shown up for several days.

Wu Feng was thinking to himself that if he didn't run into him again today, he could seriously consider asking his master, Song Yuanqiao, to let him go down the mountain.

The martial arts skills that can be learned and practiced on the mountain are basically exhausted. The Tai Chi sword has reached its peak, and what remains is to blend in with the world.

Staying on the mountain and working in seclusion, while not inefficient, meant that my martial arts skills were nearly perfected, so whether I stayed or not didn't matter anymore.

After a moment of turmoil, he forcibly suppressed his thoughts and focused his mind back into the circulation of his internal energy.

There's no use thinking about it more, just start practicing.

Just then, a very slight sound, like bamboo leaves falling naturally, reached his ears, which had become exceptionally sharp due to his study of "Harmony with the World".

This sound was completely different from the sound of the wind and the chirping of insects; it carried an indescribable rhythm.

Wu Feng immediately stopped his practice, his eyes snapping open as he warily looked toward the source of the sound.

At the edge of the bamboo forest, a familiar gray Taoist robe stood quietly beneath the bamboo shadows. His white hair was as white as snow, and his face was gentle. It was Zhang Sanfeng, whom we hadn't seen for several days.

Wu Feng's heart skipped a beat. He quickly stood up, took a few steps forward, and respectfully bowed: "Senior."

"Hmm." Zhang Sanfeng nodded slightly, his gaze lingering on him for a moment, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes.

"How's your Tai Chi sword practice going?" He got straight to the point, his voice calm yet possessing a calming power.

Wu Feng hesitated for a moment, realizing that hiding his abilities in front of such a person would be unwise. "Reporting to Senior, I have already reached the Great Perfection."

"Oh?" Upon hearing this, Zhang Sanfeng's usually calm expression finally showed a slight change. He paused for a moment, and his gaze towards Wu Feng became more scrutinizing and surprised.

I secretly observed him a few days ago, and it's clear that his Tai Chi swordsmanship has just reached perfection. Only a few days have passed?

Has it already reached the Great Perfection? You must know that the higher you go in martial arts, the more insights and accumulation are required to break through each level, especially for a first-class martial art like Tai Chi Sword that contains profound principles.

Even he, the founder, spent countless hours and effort to perfect Tai Chi sword and fist techniques.

This kid... his speed is truly frightening.

"Show me how you do it," Zhang Sanfeng said in a deep voice, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

He needed to confirm it with his own eyes, not because he didn't believe it, but because the progress was so fast that even he, a centenarian grandmaster, found it hard to believe.

"Yes, senior." Wu Feng didn't waste any more words and took out the Iron-Cutting Sword from his backpack.

The sword's blade was clear and bright, gleaming with a cold light in the sunlight filtering through the bamboo forest.

He took a deep breath, cleared his mind of distractions, and slowly raised the Iron-Cutting Sword.

The opening stance is smooth and gentle, and the swordplay unfolds accordingly.

The Tai Chi sword at its highest level has long transcended the constraints of techniques; every strike is natural, fluid, and effortless.

The sword speed appears to be unhurried and the trajectory gentle, but upon closer inspection, one can discover the astonishing resilience contained within that gentle force, and the boundless power hidden within its circular movements.

When slow, it is like clouds rolling and unfolding; when fast, it is like lightning. The transformation happens in the blink of an eye.

Zhang Sanfeng stood to the side with his hands behind his back, his eyes sharp as lightning, intently watching Wu Feng's every subtle movement.

As he looked at him, surprise gradually gave way to approval in his gentle and peaceful eyes, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

The sword intent, the flow of energy, and especially the understanding and application of softness and neutralization, have truly reached a state of perfection.

It is slow yet fast, gentle yet strong; its effortless and continuous charm cannot be faked.

"Come, give it a try with me," Zhang Sanfeng suddenly said, casually beckoning to Wu Feng with his finger.

Wu Feng sheathed his sword, glanced at Zhang Sanfeng's empty hands, and hesitated slightly: "Senior, won't you take up your swords and have a duel?"

"No need," Zhang Sanfeng said calmly. "Come on, let this old man take a look."

"Swords have no eyes, senior, please forgive me." Wu Feng no longer hesitated, knowing that this was a rare opportunity.

As soon as he finished speaking, he moved swiftly, and the Iron-Slaying Sword, carrying the perfected Tai Chi sword intent, thrust straight forward.

This sword strike seemed ordinary and slow, but with a slight tremor at the tip, it subtly enveloped several vital points on Zhang Sanfeng's body, with endless variations to follow.

Zhang Sanfeng's expression remained unchanged. Only when the sword tip was three feet in front of him did he casually raise his right hand, his index and middle fingers joined together, and lightly touched the blade of the Iron-Slaying Sword as if plucking a flower or brushing a leaf.

"Ding!"

It was a soft sound, not the harsh clang of metal, but rather a clear and pleasant sound.

Wu Feng felt an indescribable, immense force emanating from the sword, an irresistible shock that instantly traveled along the blade to his arm, numbing his wrist and causing the Iron-Slaying Sword to involuntarily swing to the side.

"Is this the strength of a Grandmaster?" Wu Feng was shocked. The opponent had easily neutralized his powerful sword strike with just a casual flick of his finger, without even using a weapon.

But the surprise was only momentary; the instinct brought by the Great Perfection of Tai Chi Sword immediately took over.

With a flick of his wrist, instead of forcibly stabilizing the sword's momentum, he went with the flow, using the force of the shock to draw a smoother arc with the sword, thrusting it out again at a more cunning angle. The tip of the sword trembled, turning into several cold stars that enveloped Zhang Sanfeng's chest and abdomen.

Use the opponent's strength against them; use minimal force to achieve maximum effect.

A glint flashed in Zhang Sanfeng's eyes, seemingly quite approving of Wu Feng's quick thinking.

He remained motionless, and with a seemingly casual flick of his left sleeve, a gentle yet incredibly resilient wall of air appeared out of thin air.

Wu Feng's sword pierced into the wall of energy, as if it were trapped in layers of dense silk, its speed suddenly decreased, and its force was rapidly dissipated.

But his swordplay didn't stop. He fully activated his Tai Chi sword intent, and the sword blade moved like a fish, burrowing, deflecting, and turning in the gaps of the energy. It was not completely blocked and maintained a continuous offensive.

In an instant, in the clearing of the bamboo forest, a figure in green could be seen moving about with a sword, the sword light swirling and turning endlessly, the attack as powerful as the Yangtze River, surging on and on.

The gray figure remained standing in place, using only his two palms to catch and neutralize the seemingly fierce sword moves, whether by brushing, pointing, guiding, or deflecting.

The sound of metal clashing rang out softly, but was quickly neutralized by the gentle force, making it seem rather indiscriminate.

They seemed evenly matched, but only Wu Feng, who was in the thick of it, knew how much pressure was on them.

Zhang Sanfeng remained motionless throughout, his expression relaxed, clearly indicating he hadn't exerted his full strength.

But with each casual wave of his hand, his true energy was condensed to the point of being tangible, covering his entire body. His fists, palms, fingers, and sleeves could withstand sharp blades. Moreover, his application of power had reached a state of perfection, allowing him to seize opportunities at the most critical moments.

If Wu Feng's Tai Chi swordplay had not reached perfection, and he had not mastered the art of borrowing and deflecting force, as well as the art of roundness and softness, he would probably have already lost the battle.

The two exchanged dozens of blows. Although Wu Feng's sword moves were deflected one by one, they were never interrupted. His sword momentum remained continuous, and because he constantly borrowed and transformed the force, he seemed to become more and more fluid and smooth as the battle progressed.

It gives people a strange sense of oppression—it is clearly at a disadvantage, yet it is incredibly resilient, and there is no obvious weakness that can be exploited to defeat it in one fell swoop.

"That's fine."

Zhang Sanfeng's voice suddenly rang out, calm and undisturbed.

Upon hearing the sound, Wu Feng immediately sheathed his sword and retreated, the Iron-Slaying Sword drawing a final arc beside him before coming to a steady stop.

He was slightly out of breath, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his arm holding the sword was a little sore and numb, but his eyes were unusually bright.

The brief exchange of a few dozen moves had been incredibly stressful, but it also gave him a deeper understanding of the "transformation" technique in Tai Chi sword.

"Thank you for your guidance, senior." He sheathed his sword, bowed to Zhang Sanfeng again, and spoke sincerely.

Zhang Sanfeng stroked his long beard, a satisfied smile appearing on his face: "Your Tai Chi sword has indeed reached perfection. Not bad. To be able to launch such a continuous and deflecting attack against me shows a solid foundation and a harmonious and refined style. Very good, very good."

"Thank you for your praise, senior." Wu Feng felt relieved, knowing that he had passed the test.

"Your moves are quite good." Zhang Sanfeng changed the subject, his gaze becoming profound. "However, remember, don't be bound by the moves themselves. When martial arts reach their peak, the intention precedes the move; no move is better than any move. You have now grasped the essence of Tai Chi Sword. In the future, you should constantly comprehend this principle and not be bound by fixed sword techniques."

"Yes, senior, I will remember." Wu Feng nodded earnestly. Coming from Zhang Sanfeng, the words carried a completely different weight compared to his experience in the fight just now.