Chapter 121: The First Cut

The reed marsh was a world of stark contrasts from one end to the other. On one side, a fierce battle raged, with various forces entangled. On the other, the air was light and calm, and an old man sipped homemade rice wine he had acquired from a farmhouse. Not far away, a group of children huddled, whispering, occasionally casting curious glances at the old man. To children who grew up in the reed marsh, the old man looked much like the elderly scholars from Xiangfan City who came out to enjoy the scenery. However, those old scholars who visited with their families didn't think much of rice wine; they always brought their own fine dishes and good liquor.

The old man smiled kindly and beckoned to a young girl from the thatched cottage owner's family. The little girl timidly walked forward. The old man, seemingly short on cash, pondered his old, gray money pouch, then poured out a dozen or so coins and gave them all to the girl. He instructed her to have her parents cook a fresh fish caught by their domesticated cormorant. Watching the girl skip away, the old man smiled and murmured, "Young children with their hair hanging loose are content in their own joy."

Qingzhou has long been known as the Cloud Dream Wetlands, and the villagers in this rural part of the reed marsh keep cormorants and eat yellow croaker for every meal. The old man particularly enjoyed the simple taste of steamed yellow croaker. That group of Xiangfan scholars and gentry, forsaking what was near for what was far, coveted seafood and spent hundreds of gold coins to acquire it. Even with ice storage along the way, the seafood had long lost its "flavor," and in the old man's eyes, they were clearly the lowest class of diners, not true gourmets. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the little girl staring blankly by the dark water tank outside her home, eventually picking the largest yellow croaker from the tank to give to her mother for steaming. The old man chuckled, saying, "Only children possess the heart of Bodhi; adults are always like thieves." Then he looked at the bamboo table, where dozens of riverside pebbles, of various sizes and distances apart, were seemingly carelessly arranged. By the time the farmhouse was cooking the fish, the old man had already discarded some smaller pebbles from the table, and a few larger ones had been moved closer to the most densely packed area of stones.

When the girl returned with a wooden platter holding a steamed yellow croaker, it had a generous amount of green onions and ginger, and even had fermented rice wine and a few strands of ham added specifically. The old man first took the chopsticks, not caring in the least whether the farmer's wife had used the "hollow steaming" method to cook the fish. For a small yellow croaker, if the heart is full, that is the true flavor. The old man placed the platter at a corner of the table where there were fewer stones and began eating rapidly. Seeing the old man enjoy his meal so much, the little girl was exceptionally happy, beaming with smiles. She immediately lost her shyness and softly asked, "Grandpa, are you from Xiangfan City?"

The old man paused his eating, shook his head, and smiled without speaking. The little girl, whose skin was tanned from working with her parents, let out an "oh" sound, a little disappointed. Her peers in the village always talked about having visited Xiangfan City, always describing how grand the city was and how lavish the rich people there were. She had never been to Xiangfan and naturally yearned for it greatly. She had heard that the older girls there were like fairies, and she thought it would be good if she could be half as pretty as them when she grew up. After the old man finished the steamed yellow croaker, he handed the wooden platter and chopsticks back to the little girl and chuckled softly, "After I leave, tell your parents that today you should leave the reed marsh and go to the Carp Guanyin Temple ten li away to burn incense. After burning the incense, you can ask the Guanyin goddess for some silver. Just smash the stone carp in the goddess's hand, and there will be a small girl inside. Remember, after taking the silver, don't rush home. Wait until after dark at the earliest. Don't forget these words; tell them after I've left. Leave early, return late."

The little girl was dumbfounded, probably thinking she was listening to nonsense. The old man smiled, unconcerned, "Just think of me as the local Earth God of this area."

Full of childish wonder, she excitedly asked, "Grandpa, are you really an immortal?"

The old man neither confirmed nor denied it, patted the girl's head, and placed a finger to his lips, gently shushing her to signal discretion. The little girl nodded vigorously. The old man lowered his head again to examine the scattered pebbles on the table, seemingly deep in thought as if pondering a move on a chessboard. The girl quietly left. If the old man wasn't from Xiangfan, how could he be the Earth God protecting this region? Moreover, the old man was certainly not some mythical being; it was just the child's sincerity that couldn't grasp such subtleties. However, though he wasn't an immortal, if one were to truly consider it from a worldly perspective, he was already indistinguishable from an immortal or a ghost. During the chaotic wars of the Nine Spring and Autumn States, "anomalous celestial phenomena" occurred frequently everywhere: a green dragon emerging from water, a divine stele breaking through the earth, a hen transforming into a rooster—which of these was not his doing?

Setting aside these grand political and strategic machinations, just considering the three-foot board of Go, when the scholars of the Western Chu Dynasty enjoyed philosophical discussions and the game of Go flourished, the nine-dan ranks such as "Entering the Sacred," "Reaching the Profound," "Fighting with Strength," and "Maintaining Simplicity" originated from him. Today, the Go world is dominated by three schools of renowned players, forming a tripartite balance of power. The imperial court has established "Go Attendants," with six top national grandmasters, including Wang Jixin and Song Shutong, responsible for evaluating Go manuals and assessing skill levels, and over four hundred individuals have attained this rank. This old man even claimed that if all four hundred of these Go players gathered to jointly play against him, he could still win with ease. Such arrogant words could only be spoken by him in the entire world, and yet Wang Jixin and others dared not accept the challenge, feigning deafness and muteness whether they were to play together or alone, which showed how extraordinary and near-divine this old man's Go skill was. However, later, for reasons unknown, this old lunatic declared that he would never play Go against anyone again in this life.

The old man stared at the table and chuckled, "To say I've had no equal for five hundred years is not empty boasting, is it? Xu Weixiong of the Xu family, it's still far too early for you to aspire to be my peer."

It should be known that in his early years, the old man entered Shangyin Academy, styling himself "San Jia," his swordplay was like dragons and snakes, and he completed "The Record of the Central Pillar" in one sitting amidst the mud after a heavy rain by the lake. Its opening lines declared his intent to establish a heart for Heaven and Earth, to secure life for the common people, to continue the lost teachings of past sages, and to usher in peace for all generations.

In recent years, traveling across the land, when he had nothing to do, he taught Lu Xu how to lay roots with his Go moves and how to connect with the common people. He taught Li Baishi both vocal and dramatic prowess, taught that fake princess how to beguile a nation, ghostwrote "Precepts for Women" for a woman, caused the Prince of Guangling to boil his second son to death, misled those ignorant youngsters in the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, and so on. As long as he willed it, who was not a pawn in his hand? Next, he was going to teach a young boy named Wen, who carried a wooden sword, how to use a sword. After the fall of Western Chu, the old Grand Tutor, besides his intense hatred for Xu Xiao, the Human Butcher, also beat his chest and cursed the "old yellow tusker" for killing three million people with his three-inch tongue—he was referring to this old man. However, these dramatic events and the overthrow of kingdoms all became fixed patterns on a chessboard, left for later generations to study.

The old man, whose exact age was indistinguishable, picked up a perfectly round pebble located at the center of the table. "This one surnamed Zhao, placing his piece at the center point, doesn't know the immensity of heaven and earth, but his actions are rather charming."

The old man, sitting on a small stool, shifted his gaze to a large stone amidst the most densely packed group of pebbles. "Wang Mingyin, the Eleventh, charges forward into a death trap. Can he find a new life?"

His gaze gently shifted again: "The Wang family has a daughter who wields 'Instantaneous.' Will it be a desperate sacrifice or a brilliant, calming move?"

The old man continued to mutter to himself, then spotted the circling azure-white luan. He clucked, "Chaos abounds, chaotic, truly chaotic. Yet there is order within the chaos."

Finally, the old man habitually rubbed his grizzled temples with two fingers, frowning, "Could it be that the Plain King is going to face the Great Liang Dragon Sparrow today? Allow this old man to calculate."

The old man didn't look at the chaotic pattern on the table. After a long period of contemplation, his initial intention was to calculate with his fingers, but unexpectedly, when he closed his eyes, it turned into a nap. He no longer concerned himself with the Go game on the table, smacked his lips, and murmured softly in his half-sleep, "The fish smells so good."

Was this greedy and lazy old man truly the greatest Go player of the past five hundred years, whom the Grand Libationer of Shangyin Academy had, with mixed feelings, jokingly called, "He has reached the sacred, utterly free of vulgarity, truly not a mere human"?

Just as this seemingly ordinary old scholar was about to fall into a deep slumber, an astonishing thunderclap erupted from the other end.

Continuous.

"Youngster of the Wu family, are you truly seeking death? How long will the Plain King Sword remain an ornament?"

What makes the Old Sword God's name contain the essence of sword aura?

Li Chungang's sword glowed with an intensifying blue light. Even Pei Nanwei could clearly see the Old Sword God's three-foot cold blade, coiling like a green serpent. Previously, it was just wisps, hard to discern, but now the blue aura was as thick as an arm, completely overshadowing the sharp sword itself. With one swing, it utterly pulverized the bamboo stick in Wu Liuding's hand, which had been whittled down to a small dagger. And that wasn't all; Wu Liuding, who had been effortlessly parrying, finally appeared disheveled, a corner of his sleeve sliced off by the fierce sword qi. Li Chungang seemed to have no intention of giving Wu Liuding a chance to draw the Plain King Sword. He burst out laughing, pressing his advantage mercilessly. After a bout of swordplay, he discerned that this young man had clearly chosen an unconventional path of domineering swordsmanship. "If you want to be domineering," he thought, "as a swordsman, I have faced countless enemies in my life. Who can be more imposing than my 'Two Sleeves Green Snakes'?"

"This old man's sword is nothing more than rise and fall."

"East, I watched the great tide of Guangling, stepping on the crests as I crossed. North, I saw thousands of wild oxen stampede, treading on their bodies as if on flat ground. South, facing the immense ocean waves crashing down, I split rivers and seas with a single sword. West, I ascended Mount Lan Tuo to question Buddha with my sword, slaying twenty-three Arhats."

Li Chungang's sword momentum surged again.

Is there no end to it?

Is he perhaps going to break through to the Realm of Land Sword Immortal in one go?

Wu Liuding, now without a sword, had already skirted the gates of hell multiple times and returned.

The once flat path was now scarred, covered with countless intersecting ravines.

Behind Wu Liuding, the sword attendant, almost peerless among the contemporary sword tomb, slowly opened her eyes. The Plain King Sword on her back trembled, humming like cicadas.

But she knew well that there was a great art to when this famous sword should be drawn and when it should be delivered to Wu Liuding's hand; one false move, and it wouldn't be saving him but harming him.

Jiang Ni heard the incessant thunderclaps outside the carriage and finally couldn't hold back. She cautiously lifted the curtain. When she saw Li Chungang's unparalleled single-handed sword energy in the distance, she simply whispered, "Very beautiful characters."

Yu Youwei sat in the corner of the carriage, holding the frightened white cat, Wu Meiniang. Because two young Kui were lying in the carriage, letting out muffled roars, she heard Jiang Ni's words, glanced at the zitan sword box by her feet, and offered a wry smile.

Qingniao asked, "Young Master, is that Wu Family Sword Crown about to fall?"

Xu Fengnian remained focused on watching the battle, without turning, and shook his head, "He will certainly be defeated. Wu Liuding is too overconfident. If he had drawn the Plain King Sword from the beginning, the situation would definitely not be like this. However, whether he will die is hard to say. As the most outstanding genius of this generation from the Sword Tomb, Wu Liuding should have some ultimate hidden techniques. It just depends on whether he can get his hands on the Plain King Sword before all his calculations fail. I still have that much discernment. Back when Xu Xiao forbade me from wielding a blade for ten years, I was ignorant and just threw everything away in a fit of pique. If not for that, I should have thought of arranging for the mansion's masters to spar and steal all their hidden ultimate techniques. On this journey, no matter what means I have to use, I must reach the threshold of the Vajra realm before I stop, otherwise I'd be too ashamed to return to Beiliang."

Qingniao smiled softly, "It's not difficult."

Xu Fengnian's mood brightened slightly, and he chuckled, "I'll take your auspicious words to heart."

Pei Nanwei truly couldn't understand the relationship between this Prince of Beiliang and the maid named Qingniao. How could there be such a deeply affectionate master-servant relationship anywhere in the Jing'an Prince's residence?

Xu Fengnian suddenly turned to look at Princess Pei and asked, "Did you hear all that?"

Princess Jing'an subconsciously nodded, then shook her head. After being hit in the abdomen once by the Xiudong scabbard, she was indeed a little afraid.

This turn of his head, originally intended to scare Princess Pei, inadvertently caught sight of Qingniao and the crimson long spear without a spear-tassel in her hand, leaving him somewhat entranced.

That ancient spear, the only one among the nine divine weapons in the world to be ranked, had a spearhead that was not sharp at all, but rather unusually blunt and presented a strange curved shape. Yet it was this blunt spear that, in the hands of Grandmaster Wang Xiu, had been steeped in the blood of countless masters. Wang Xiu leaped into the martial world alone, and for twenty years at his peak, he was renowned for his decisive and ruthless killing. Countless souls perished beneath his spear. Regardless of martial skill or family status, he would draw his spear if a word displeased him and kill in a furious glare. Among the Four Grandmasters, he was the most bloodthirsty and warlike, always engaging in battles to the death to improve his cultivation. His two-thousand-li journey north to Dunhuang was particularly bloody, and every time he killed someone, he would pierce the enemy's head once with his long spear. The martial arts critique said that Wang Xiu, at thirty, was established; his spear techniques were a blend of real and illusory, strange and orthodox, advancing sharply and retreating decisively. He was as unmoving as a mountain, and when he moved, it was like thunder. His vigor was unparalleled. In the second martial arts critique, Wang Xiu at forty was described as "not confused," having focused on foundational techniques, returning to simplicity, reaching both mastery and extremes, ultimately establishing his own school of spearmanship. In the third critique, Wang Xiu was evaluated as having mastered all forms of spearmanship, reaching a point where he forgot his hands, then forgot the spear, becoming a "Spear Immortal."

When Xu Fengnian saw Qingniao holding the ancient spear, for the first time in his life, he truly grasped Qingniao's identity as a death warrior.

Cold and inert like a dead object.

Just as Xu Fengnian was in a daze, staring blankly at the "Instantaneous" spear, a figure swiftly darted out from the reed marsh and shouted, "Prince, watch out for the Earth Armor beneath your feet!"

Almost simultaneously with the warning, the muddy ground beneath Xu Fengnian's feet exploded, and a huge object was about to burst out of the earth.

Qingniao's face instantly turned ashen, and the "Instantaneous" spear in her hand thrust directly at the puppet attempting to ambush the Prince.

Would it be in time?

Her eyes lit up, radiating brilliance.

For reasons unknown, Xu Fengnian, who should have been killed in one blow, suddenly and seemingly instinctively drew his Xiudong blade, executing a miraculous move like a gazelle hanging its horns.

"A Sword Immortal Kneels."

On a rainy path, Li Chungang had once used an umbrella as a sword, breaking the water armor within the "Talisman General Red Armor" with a single strike.

That sword move, whose essence Xu Fengnian had painstakingly but unsuccessfully tried to learn, was, by some miraculous coincidence, finally integrated into his Xiudong blade at a critical moment of life and death.

Pei Nanwei only saw the playboy prince's brocade robes billow roundly, his single-handed blade thrusting straight down, a perfectly natural movement.

The assassin was actually forced back underground by the thrust.