"You rely entirely on speed to mask the glaring holes in your foundation. Your footwork is sloppy. Your shoulders are tense. You telegraph your strikes a full second before you move."
"Shut up, you arrogant brat!" the senior roared, lunging forward, his twin blades glowing with wind-attribute Qi. "Twin-Cyclone Slash!"
Lu Jianheng finally uncrossed his arms. His eyes narrowed.
'He telegraphs his moves like dough rising,' Ji'an's voice echoed in Lu Jianheng's mind.
Lu Jianheng flushed a faint, embarrassed red at the memory, but his body moved with instinctual, lethal precision. He didn't draw the blade.
He stepped inside the senior's guard, mirroring the exact, fluid pivot Lin Ji'an had used on him in the herb garden.
"Too wide," Lu Jianheng criticized harshly.
He drove the heavy, blunt end of his scabbard directly into the senior's solar plexus. The wind Qi shattered instantly.
