Confucianism is supreme? I am reciting Tang poems in another world!

Shang Wuqing's eyes condensed, and he quickly gathered all his talents, condensed a red talent sword, swung the sword and slashed, colliding with the six sword qi.

"Boom!"

Six loud noises were heard on the stands of the Academy of Literature and the Academy of Martial Arts, causing the students of the two academies to cast their eyes over, but when they saw the two people on the high platform, they instantly retracted their eyes, as if they had not seen them.

"It seems that this little girl is stronger than I thought, but Shang Wuqing is not bad either."

Ci Song looked at the two people fighting on the high platform. Ci Song saw their movements clearly, and also saw who was stronger from the first move.

"Boom!"

After Zhuang Diemeng's sixth sword qi collided with Shang Wuqing's sword qi, it did not explode like the other five sword qi, but condensed and continued to slash towards Shang Wuqing.

"Heavy can make light, quiet can make restless."

Shang Wuqing was heard reciting the content of "Han Feizi·Yu Lao", and his aura burst out again, and the red long sword in his hand collided with the five sword energies.

"Boom!"

The dust raised by the collision fell on Shang Wuqing's face. Shang Wuqing wiped the dust off his face and looked at Zhuang Diemeng with a gloomy look. This woman named Zhuang Diemeng was indeed strong. He had used 80% of his own strength, but he still couldn't gain the upper hand in the front.

"Who is this little girl?"

Shang Wuqing thought to himself, and cast his eyes on Ci Song on the side, and saw that Ci Song was looking at himself and Zhuang Diemeng with a relaxed face, as if he had already known the result of this battle.

"Don't waste time, how about we decide the outcome with one move?"

Shang Wuqing turned his head to look at Zhuang Diemeng. He knew what his advantage was, which was explosive power. If he only fought with one move, then he could basically declare himself the winner in this battle.

"That's exactly what I meant."

As he spoke, Zhuang Diemeng was about to use his strongest move, but suddenly thought of Ci Song in the audience, so he gave up the idea and chose to use the free and easy swordsmanship to fight the enemy.

After all, Ci Song's talent was too high, and he had also learned the Taoist Heart Sutra from Zhuang Ya. If he used his strongest move and Ci Song learned it, it would be a big loss.

Zhuang Diemeng was seen using the free and easy swordsmanship. The speed at which she wrote "Free and Easy Journey" was several times faster than before. It took only ten breaths to finish the whole article, and then the black text merged into the long sword in Zhuang Diemeng's hand.

Shang Wuqing on the other side was also ready. The originally slender long sword in his hand turned into a blood-red giant sword under the infusion of talent. The edge of the giant sword was still angular, like a broken rock, revealing a destructive power.

"Chichichi!"

The long sword in Zhuang Diemeng's hand made a buzzing sound, and He Guang Tongchen used it again. Zhuang Diemeng had already appeared above Shang Wuqing, looking down from above, and slashed at Shang Wuqing's bloody giant sword with one sword.

"Bang!"

A loud noise came, and Shang Wuqing was slashed back by Zhuang Diemeng's sword, his steps were chaotic, and the blood-red giant sword shattered in the explosion, but the aftermath hit Shang Wuqing's body, blasting him up and finally smashing under the high platform.

"Bang!"

Shang Wuqing fell on the broken bricks and stones, and a mouthful of blood spurted out of his mouth.

"Won."

Zhuang Diemeng fell from mid-air and stood on the broken ground, staring at Shang Wuqing who was sitting in the rubble.

"Zhuang Diemeng wins!" Ci Song shouted loudly.

Shang Wuqing's eyes were filled with extreme confusion and doubt. He had never thought that the little nun in front of him was so strong. He tried his best to fight against her head-on, but he had no chance of winning. The power released by this little girl just now far exceeded his own. Even two Shang Wuqings might not be able to take it.

"Shang Senior Brother!"

The students of the Academy of Literature came to Shang Wuqing, helped him up, and used their talents to heal his wounds.

"I lost, and I am convinced."

Shang Wuqing was able to realize the gap between himself and Zhuang Diemeng. If there was only a little difference, he might have found some other reasons for himself, but today's battle was no different from an egg hitting a stone.

"Hahaha, Shang Wuqing, I thought you were so powerful, but you lost to a little girl!"

At this moment, Yang Wude came out of the martial arts academy with a group of people. Seeing Shang Wuqing, who was covered with wounds and no longer arrogant, he felt so happy.

"We lost, so why are there so many excuses?"

"That's right, the people in the Academy of Literature are just a bunch of cowards, they can only do some sneaky things, if we really fight, you are nothing!"

The burly man next to Yang Wude also mocked.

Seeing such a scene, Ci Song really couldn't hold it anymore. I have seen clowns before, but I have never seen such a clown. Do the people in the Martial Academy have some problems in their brains?

"No, I just heard Shang Wuqing say that Uncle Shang Han seemed to be from the Martial Academy before, so what I said just now is invalid."

Ci Song murmured in his heart, then walked forward, looked at Yang Wude and the disciples of the Martial Academy, and smiled: "You guys. If your kung fu is half as tough as your mouth, your martial arts master brother would not be scared to pee his pants by others."

"Confucian bastard, what are you talking about!"

Yang Wude was instantly furious and broke his defense. He pointed at Ci Song and started to curse. No matter how much he and Shang Wuqing argued, it was their legalist's business. It was not Ci Song's turn to comment.

"What did you say just now?"

Ci Song's face, which was originally joking, suddenly turned cold.

"I said you are a Confucian bastard who was born but no one raised him. Didn't anyone teach you not to interrupt others when they were chatting?"

"Pah!"

Then, with a crisp sound, Yang Wude found himself inexplicably falling to the ground. Everything around him was spinning, and then a pair of hands supported his shoulders.

"Say it again, I didn't hear it clearly?"

Yang Wude opened his eyes with difficulty and saw Ci Song looking at him without knowing when he appeared. There was a burst of heat on his shoulder, and he also spit out a mouthful of blood with a few white spots in the blood, which was the teeth broken by Ci Song's slap.

"You are a Confucian student, and you actually came to our Legalist Academy to commit murder and hurt people?"

"You are so brave, put down Brother Yang Wude!"

"Catch this Confucian student, and then kill him, kill him!"

The martial arts students present denounced Ci Song one after another, and the students of the literary academy also surrounded him. In the eyes of these people, Ci Song did not hit Yang Wude's face, but the face of their Legalists.

Seeing Ci Song being denounced by everyone, Yang Wude's swollen mouth corners showed a mocking smile.

"You know, I have some bad tastes. I like to see others get angry and helpless."

Ci Song's cold words reached everyone's ears, and everyone present, including Zhuang Diemeng, did not know what Ci Song meant by this sentence.

"Remember to be more virtuous in your next life, so as not to bring disaster upon yourself again."

After saying that, Ci Song took out the Hanguang Sword, and in front of everyone's shocked eyes, he stabbed Yang Wude in the throat with one sword, and blood gushed out immediately.

Yang Wude's eyes widened again. He could never have imagined that this seemingly small Confucian student would actually dare to kill him in front of so many Legalist disciples, in front of the gates of the two major Legalist academies.

Seeing Yang Wude fall in a pool of blood, his eyes closed, there was no hope of life. The Legalist disciples retreated one after another, watching all this in disbelief.

. . . . . .