Chapter 231: Ling Shuangxue's Bold Speculation
Luo Wusheng's gaze was somewhat strange.
Between the fingers of his right hand, a faint arc of electricity—almost invisible to the naked eye—vanished.
After thoroughly studying the tribulation lightning that had lodged itself in his right arm from the tribulation-devouring ability, Luo Wusheng had developed several ways to use it.
The method he just employed to turn that muscular man into the "King of Electric Beats" was one of them, inspired by the side effects he endured each time he survived a tribulation.
This electric arc could paralyze its target. Moreover, due to incorporating some properties of the special purple tribulation lightning he first absorbed, it was highly concealed and extremely fast.
When the veiled woman stepped forward earlier, the arc had already entwined itself into the muscular man's body, without anyone noticing.
The only downside was its relatively low power and how easy it was to break free—simply exerting enough force could expel the paralysis. The muscular man had merely fallen victim to the surprise of the initial encounter.
It was a pity that Luo Wusheng hadn't yet managed to replicate the purple tribulation lightning's ability to slip through the void. If he had, this trick would have been perfect for ambushing others—striking so subtly that the target wouldn't even know who had acted.
Retracting the arc, Luo Wusheng glanced again at the veiled woman, who had just slightly averted her gaze.
'If she really is from the Sword Sect… Among the girls there, apart from Little Yuli, who else could possess such beauty and hold the position of a Sword Peak Master at the Nascent Soul Realm?'
Honestly, Luo Wusheng had immediately thought of Little Yuli's master, that cold-as-ice beauty.
But upon second thought, something felt off. Due to the absence of a certain plot event that caused Little Yuli to feast upon her master and turn her into one of Little Yuli girls, that master shouldn't have reached the mid-Nascent Soul Realm yet.
However, everything about this woman's behavior strongly resembled that master—especially her words earlier, which struck him as incredibly familiar.
Just as Luo Wusheng was entertaining this thought, the woman's final remark made him doubt himself again.
If she really were that icy beauty of a master, she should still have her peculiar habit of speaking no more than five words at a time—especially when meeting someone for the first time.
Maybe I'm just overthinking it?
Little Yuli had only sent him a message this morning, saying she would extend her visit. And among all the people she could visit for so long at the Sword Sect, her Master would be the most likely.
If that was the case, then it truly made no sense for that ice-cold beauty to appear in Daybreak City—especially in this tiny teahouse, listening to his storytelling.
Not to mention, in the original story, that master wasn't portrayed as having any interest in listening to tales.
As he pondered this, Luo Wusheng recalled the woman's last words again.
With a strange look in his eyes, he glanced at her and then swept his gaze across the room.
The atmosphere here… After all that just happened, can I really continue storytelling as if nothing occurred?
...
As it turned out, Luo Wusheng simply lacked experience.
When he resumed his storytelling, the teahouse patrons seamlessly switched back into listening mode.
Only the occasional glances toward the veiled woman sitting alone, as well as the respectful looks directed at Luo Wusheng himself, indicated that they hadn't entirely forgotten what had just transpired.
However, these ordinary cultivators knew how to survive in this world.
What they shouldn't know, they would never dare ask.
Since they had come today merely to drink tea and hear a story, they would play their roles well.
Besides, with tales of such caliber to enjoy, why concern themselves with other matters?
Sometimes, it's better for people to live in ignorance.
Luo Wusheng sighed at the thought.
Following the recent commotion, Luo Wusheng's accumulation of recognition value skyrocketed—far surpassing what he could have gathered from telling stories for half an hour.
Comparison truly brings pain.
Now, the value earned through mere storytelling seemed utterly unappealing.
'As expected, to improve efficiency, I'll need to stage more "accidents" and handle them with a high-profile attitude to stir enough emotions...'
He had figured it out. Unfortunately, the troublemakers had already left.
Moreover, since some of his strength had been exposed, and with a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator sitting nearby, the patrons in the teahouse were now fully aware of the situation. It would be hard to stir any more waves.
Unless that young cultivator who broke through while listening to his story goes out and spreads the word.
If that happened, his future storytelling sessions could attract even more people, yielding greater recognition value.
'But still... I honestly don't see how any of these random stories I pieced together contain profound sword principles. I even possess a Sword Intent now... Could it be because I haven't practiced many sword cultivation techniques? It can't possibly be a lack of talent, right?'
As a half-baked sword cultivator, Luo Wusheng couldn't help but grumble inwardly.
Earlier, the young cultivator who broke through had offered him a token of gratitude, but Luo Wusheng politely declined with a smile.
What could a mere cultivator who just reached the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage possibly offer me?
Instead, he thought it would be far more beneficial if that person became his walking advertisement—attracting more people to aid his recognition value plan.
While these thoughts occupied his mind, Luo Wusheng continued his storytelling effortlessly. Yet, his gaze subtly drifted toward the veiled woman.
As he expected, those beautiful eyes were still quietly fixed on him.
'Based on the clues gathered from certain keywords earlier, she likely shares the same goal as those people carrying the greatswords. It seems related to the Soulblade Specter… Could it be the Heaven-grade Soulblade Specter that Little Yuli mentioned before—something even a Nascent Soul cultivator would covet?'
Just as Luo Wusheng was about to withdraw his gaze, a soft voice suddenly echoed in his ears—a transmission from the veiled woman.
"After this story concludes, I would like to discuss something with you. Would that be agreeable?"
Luo Wusheng's eyes flashed.
"Naturally."
<+>
Ling Shuangxue secretly let out a breath of relief.
She still wasn't entirely accustomed to saying such long sentences to others.
Even now, most of her words were reserved for her own disciple. To outsiders, she typically maintained her cold and distant demeanor.
However, she had made an exception for the young storyteller before her—putting in a bit of extra effort.
'This story truly matches the level of the one inscribed on that wooden sword. And the way he narrates…'
It feels all too familiar.
Her gaze once again fell on the wooden short sword hanging at his waist.
If that truly is the special short sword crafted by Yuli…
Does that mean Yuli encountered him in the martial world—befriending him during her travels?
Ling Shuangxue murmured softly to herself, in a voice so low that no one could hear.
Previously, she had always suspected that the so-called martial tale on the wooden sword was actually a story her disciple had created after honing her sword heart through worldly experience. A story designed to help her, Yuli master, rebuild her own shattered sword heart.
After listening to several widely spread martial stories yesterday while recovering, she had grown even more convinced of that theory.
But now, her certainty wavered.
Staring at the young storyteller as he skillfully narrated a legendary tale, the sense of déjà vu within Ling Shuangxue only grew stronger.
Could it be that Yuli learned this storytelling style from him?
And did she deliberately choose the most fitting story for her master's broken sword heart—sending it to her through that wooden sword?
Ling Shuangxue gently brushed her fingers along the cold, gleaming sword in her hand.
A far bolder guess lingered in her mind.