Martial Arts Crossover: It All Started with Hijacking Li Canghai

The moment Qin Han's brush touched the paper, the atmosphere in the hall changed, and everyone present simultaneously sensed a chilling aura.

The samurai of the Ippindo on both sides involuntarily gripped their sword hilts.

Not far from Helian Tieshu, there was a man leaning on a cane, staring intently at Qin Han's right hand holding the pen.

He was Duan Yanqing, one of the Four Evils.

If Helian Tieshu is the general in the open, then the top experts behind Yipintang are the ones he trains.

Zongzan turned his head and asked Kumārajīva in a low voice.

"Imperial Advisor, what is he doing?"

Kumārajīva stopped reciting his prayer beads and remained silent; explaining to the Tibetan prince would be too troublesome.

Li Qiushui's gaze passed through the corner of the beaded curtain and landed on the pen.

Li Qinglu sat beside her grandmother, her hands unconsciously twisting together as she watched Qin Han wield his brush.

For some reason, she recalled the man's calm yet intense energy as he cleared her meridians in the ice cellar last night.

Qin Han wrote Li Bai's poem "The Knight-Errant".

"Zhao guest wears a silk tassel, Wu hook shines like frost and snow."

As soon as the two lines of poetry were written, before the ink on the paper had even dried, a faint bluish halo appeared on the surface.

Kublai Khan frowned, his thick eyebrows furrowing. Although he was a man who knew nothing about martial arts, he could still see the changes in the expressions of the experts around him.

Qin Han's pen did not stop; he continued to write with the speed of the wind.

"A silver saddle shines on a white horse, swift as a shooting star."

After the four lines were written, the ink on the paper began to tremble slightly, and the edges of the paper also swayed. This was the essence of sword intent.

A truly skilled swordsman can integrate his lifelong understanding of swordsmanship into various objects; grass, trees, bamboo, and rocks can be used as swords, as can writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Qin Han had just witnessed the skills of two top-tier swordsmen.

Kumārajīva was able to use the Lesser Formless Skill to imitate the Seventy-Two Arts of Shaolin. With his current martial arts prowess, it would not be difficult for him to conceive of the artistic conception of incorporating literature into martial arts.

He blended two completely different artistic conceptions together, letting them flow from the tip of his pen and into the characters along with the ink.

The handwriting became faster and faster as he wrote, and the angularity of his handwriting became more and more pronounced.

"Kill one man in ten steps, leave no trace for a thousand miles."

The Xuan paper underneath could not withstand the force, and the entire sheet gradually broke apart from the middle.

Those cracks didn't appear randomly; each one followed the direction of the strokes, exuding a powerful outward force.

Wu Yingxiong unconsciously took two steps back and couldn't help but shout out.

"Could this be some kind of sorcery?!"

The Golden Wheel Dharma King's usually calm face showed a hint of surprise as the Mongolian National Preceptor stared at the shattered Xuan paper on his desk.

That layer of blue light was not just ordinary internal energy being released; it was the manifestation of sword intent. There are no more than five people in the world who can achieve this.

Zongzan's smile, which had been anticipating a laugh, vanished, and he looked at Kumārajīva with some uncertainty.

"Imperial Preceptor, are the poems written by Qin Han very good?"

Kumārajīva clasped his hands together and chanted a Buddhist mantra.

"I have only now truly witnessed the power of the King of Qin."

He was calculating in his mind what his chances of winning would be if he used his hard-earned Flaming Blade and the Seventy-Two Shaolin Arts to deal with an opponent who could integrate sword intent into his writing. The result of his calculation sent a chill down his spine.

Ignoring the voices of those around him, Qin Han gathered his inner energy and poured thirty percent of his power into the tip of his pen.

"Having accomplished his task, he dusted off his clothes and departed, concealing his identity and name."

As he wrote these two lines, the entire sheet of Xuan paper, along with the wooden desk beneath it, shattered.

The fragments weren't forcibly broken apart by external force, but rather the paper and wood themselves lost their binding power and gradually dispersed from the inside.

Wood chips and paper scraps scattered in mid-air, but did not fly around randomly; the fine particles remained suspended in front of Qin Han.

It gathered into a clump of grayish-white dust, which remained suspended in mid-air without dispersing.

Helian Tieshu looked at Duan Yanqing, who had arrived at some unknown time.

"Master Duan, just how strong is your martial arts level?"

Duan Yanqing was alone today; the other three villains were not present. His eyes were fixed on the ball of powder suspended in mid-air.

He exclaimed in ventriloquism, "A great reputation without falsehood is something that seems difficult to achieve to us, but in the eyes of this King of Qin..."

As a master, he could naturally see that this was an outward manifestation of his mastery of his own power.

Each tiny particle was enveloped in true energy and remained in place without dispersing.

Qin Han flipped his right hand over, and the pen in his hand drew a half-arc in the air, causing the powder suspended in the air to rearrange itself with the airflow.

The poem that was originally written on paper appeared one by one in mid-air.

The black characters made of powder hung in mid-air, exuding a sword intent.

Qin Han looked at the words in front and felt that this was enough; there was no need to reveal anything more.

"The Ballad of the Knight-Errant" is dedicated to all of you guests who have traveled from afar.

He turned around and looked at Wu Yingxiong.

"Prince Wu, did you just say that I was putting on an act?"

Wu Yingxiong's face was ashen; this was a case of failed flattery leading to his downfall and impending punishment.

Qin Han casually threw the pen on the ground.

"I think your literary talent is quite good. I remember that the down-on-his-luck scholar who writes lyrics for actors in the brothels of Lin'an is about as good as you. How about I introduce you to a job at the Southern Song Dynasty's Jiaofangsi (Imperial Music Bureau) sometime?"

Some people around couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Duan Yu stood on the seat in Dali, his lips twitching twice as he tried to suppress a laugh.

But Zhu Danchen couldn't help but sigh from behind.

Kublai Khan's facial muscles tightened, and his eyes turned somewhat gloomy. The Golden Wheel Monk beside him reached out and pressed down on his arm, shaking his head slightly at him.

In just one night, the Golden Wheel Monk discovered that Qin Han seemed to have changed again.

It gives people the illusion that it is invincible.

Zongzan sensed something was wrong and hid behind Kumārajīva, figuring he wasn't the one in charge anyway.

Wu Yingxiong's chest heaved, his hands clenched into fists.

He was seething with anger and wanted to draw his sword and charge forward, but he dared not move a step, knowing that he was no match for his opponent.

Behind the beaded curtain, Li Qiushui looked at Li Qinglu beside her.

"That brat, he really won't suffer even the slightest loss."

Li Qinglu's gentle gaze never left the man, and two blushes appeared on her cheeks.

She recalled what happened in the ice cellar last night and knew that this man was very skilled, but she never expected that his literary talent and martial arts skills would be so high.

Helian Tieshu noticed Li Qiushui's gaze and telepathic communication.

Knowing it was his turn to act, he put aside his thoughts and raised his voice to address the crowd.

"In the first written examination, the King of Qin emerged victorious!"

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"By order of the Empress Dowager, the second round of the martial arts test shall commence immediately!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a cacophony of hoofbeats echoed from outside the hall.

The sound was like that of not just one horse, but hundreds of horses stamping their feet on the ground at the same time.

Helian Tieshu glanced outside the main hall, then turned to look at the people present.

"The martial arts test will not be held in the hall. Please follow me."