Chapter 137: Let You Stop Practicing Swordsmanship

Kicked, Xu Fengnian, completely bewildered, asked, "Practicing?"

The Old Sword God sneered, "What else? Were you planning to really get physical with Princess Jing'an? Would you be willing to sacrifice your Great Yellow Court, kid?"

Even someone as thick-skinned as Xu Fengnian felt a little embarrassed. Not wanting to dwell on the topic, he approached the campfire and sat down beside Yu Youwei. Ning Emei arrived, carrying some golden, succulent roasted meat in one hand, which he handed to the Young Master and the Old Sword God. A famished Xu Fengnian tore into the wild game, joking, "General Ning, come sit with us. Let's all bask in the Old Sword God's immortal aura."

Ning Emei, who had taken off his armor but still carried his short halberd and pack, sat down, his smile shy. This Martial General looked fierce and menacing, yet his voice and personality were completely opposite. Xu Fengnian watched the refined way General Ning ate and inexplicably burst into laughter. Everyone around the campfire exchanged confused glances. Xu Fengnian quietly asked Ning Emei, "On the battlefield, during skirmishes and battles, some great generals and fierce warriors like to shout bold phrases like 'Villain, prepare to die!' or 'I'll take your dog's head!' General Ning, with your gentle voice, how do you manage? I've always been curious about this."

Ning Emei's rugged face was illuminated by the firelight, making it hard to tell if he was blushing. He scratched his head and chuckled, "When I first became a captain, I also wanted to emulate the brave and skilled predecessors from military texts who shouted on the front lines. Then, during one battle, fighting alongside the Grand General as a vanguard to break through enemy lines, I had just yelled out something when the Grand General stopped me and gave me a severe scolding. He said, 'If you're going to wield a halberd, wield a halberd! Why waste words? Besides, it sounds like a woman burping; it doesn't even have the power of a man's loud fart!' The Grand General admonished me not to disgrace the Northern Liang Army. After that, I never dared to shout on the battlefield again. I just kill, and only kill."

"I knew Xu Xiao would chew you out!" Xu Fengnian roared with laughter. His current tattered appearance was no better than the beggar's disguise he had worn during his three years of wandering. As he laughed, he swung the roasted meat in his hand, which made Princess Jing'an in the distance look somewhat dazed. There was no need to mention Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng; he had always been lofty, immaculate, and sanctimonious. Even Young Master Zhao Xun had always been meticulously picky about his food. From grand room decorations to small jade pendants on his waist, everything was a treasure, absolutely free from any hint of vulgarity. After glancing at Princess Pei, Xu Fengnian smiled at the ravenously eating Li Chungang and asked, "Old senior, how is General Ning's halberd technique? Can it be called superb?"

Hearing this, Ning Emei immediately grew restless. As expected, the sharp-tongued old man in sheepskin spat out a bone and chuckled, "'Superb'? Then Wang Mingyin, who can disarm halberds empty-handed, must be practically divine, so why is he only ranked eleventh in the world? Kid, if you want me to teach this fellow halberd techniques, just say so. Don't beat around the bush."

Xu Fengnian laughed, "I humbly ask the old senior to impart your wisdom."

The Old Sword God said impatiently, "We'll talk about it later, if I'm in the mood."

Seeing that Ning Emei, the halberd wielder, was merely absorbed in shock and pleasant surprise, Xu Fengnian subtly extended his leg and kicked him. Ning Emei's body jolted, and he clasped his hands in greeting, saying, "Ning Emei thanks the Old Sword God."

Old Man Li glared and said, "What 'old sword god'? Are you saying Deng Tai'a is the new sword god? As long as I haven't fought that junior, I am still the Sword God of this century's martial world."

Ning Emei was filled with trepidation; he couldn't fathom Li Chungang's disposition, so he could only look to the Young Master for help. Xu Fengnian waved his hand, gesturing for Ning Emei to leave first. Just as he was about to smooth things over, he inadvertently noticed the Little Mud Figure holding a book and wiping away tears. Her slender shoulders trembled, and when he craned his neck to vaguely make out the book's title, he burst into silent laughter. It was Wang Chudong's *The First Snow*, though he didn't know which volume she was on. Xu Fengnian sat over, gently took the book, glanced through it, seeing that Jiang Ni was already reading the ending. He guessed she was feeling melancholic over the line "May all lovers in the world eventually be united." Before the Little Mud Figure could flare up, he wisely returned the book to her and teased, "These are just fictional stories, and you're crying over them? Countless lovelorn men and women across the land have already shed tens of thousands of pounds of tears for this book; your bit won't make a difference."

Jiang Ni clutched *The First Snow* tightly, her eyes tear-filled, and choked out angrily, "Do you think everyone is as heartless as you?!"

Li Chungang chimed in, "I had a moment to glance at it. The romance in the book is fine, but Wang Dongxiang's poetry is truly good. It emulates ancient sages and deeply understands the profound, lasting essence of classical poetry. However, a few pieces fall short of the mark. I don't know who she picked up the bad habit from—forcibly inserting lengthy sections of Laozi, Zhuangzi, and the I Ching, especially obscure terms extracted from Buddhist scriptures. If you ask me, it's a form of Zen illness. But after the Spring and Autumn Period's Warring States, hundreds of thousands of scholars turned to Zen Buddhism, so one cannot say Wang Dongxiang lacks talent; it's just a reflection of the times."

Suddenly, Xu Fengnian and the old man exchanged glances with a tacit understanding, causing others to exchange confused looks again. Both of them wore strange smiles, though Li Chungang's smile carried a few more traces of wistful emotion. Both sighed simultaneously again, and even Jiang Ni couldn't help but compose herself, muttering curiously about what was wrong with the two of them. She naturally didn't know that the Old Sword God's nickname, "Li Qingdan," came from a poem gifted by a refined young lady. That woman, like Wang Dongxiang, was an eccentric poetic genius in the literary circles of her time. Yet, the most brilliant chapters of her life were all written for the Li Chungang she adored. Unfortunately, Li Chungang was single-minded, utterly devoted to the vast Way of the Sword. In his youth, he paid no heed to romantic attachments, causing countless women to be heartbroken, never finding peace until their deaths.

In this matter, how similar were Xu Fengnian and Li Chungang?

The Old Sword God murmured wistfully, "This little girl Wang Dongxiang has a great spiritual aura; one *First Snow* has already exhausted all the myriad forms of life in the world. Even an old man like me, who once prided himself on being the most easygoing man in the world, was startled by this book and realized that my leisure and detachment were fake. All that pretentious eloquence about being carefree and unrestrained, all that self-proclaimed integrity, is revealed as fragmented and broken. Deep down, I probably still can't escape the saying, 'Love makes a hero soft-hearted.' Recalling Qi Xuanzhen's parting words, he said that as long as one is 'down the mountain'—in the mundane world—one would be bound by a spiritual talisman confined within the Dao Ancestor's two fingers, unable to escape no matter what."

Li Chungang raised his hand, caught the wine skin thrown by the Young Master, and took a deep gulp. The gloom in his chest vanished, and he asked with a smile, "How can others truly know the author's intentions when she wrote that book? Next time you see that little girl, Wang Dongxiang, ask her a question for me: How, at such a young age and without leaving her home, could she, through the mouth of a rascally rogue in the book, utter the insightful, warning remark that all the world's myriad difficulties can be solved on a woman's thigh?"

Xu Fengnian nodded. He hadn't read much of *The First Snow*, but everyone around him seemed to be deeply engrossed in it. His eldest sister and Jiang Ni both shed countless tears of sympathy, and even Li Hanlin, his notoriously infamous close friend in Northern Liang, felt a pang of sadness, as if the sun had risen from the west. With Princess Jing'an also reading *The First Snow* when he first met her, Wang Dongxiang's fans were truly countless. No wonder it was praised as "a thousand people read *First Snow*, a thousand kinds of snow"—it seemed he should take the time to appreciate it properly. Xu Fengnian chewed his meat, head down, as Yu Youwei softly reminded him that there was still a set of clean clothes left in the carriage. Xu Fengnian hummed in acknowledgement, then looked up and said, "In the coming days, you and Grandpa Wei will work on drawing the rune patterns for those four armors. I might not have much free time."

Yu Youwei rested her pointed chin on the body of the lazy white cat, Wu Meiniang, and softly said, "Okay."

Xu Fengnian said, feeling a little guilty, "Were you frightened by the fighting today?"

Yu Youwei smiled and shook her head. Xu Fengnian immediately revealed his true intentions, chuckling, "Doesn't my saber technique look quite masterful?"

Yu Youwei gave him a charming eye-roll. Jiang Ni, who was sitting beside Xu Fengnian carefully guarding *The First Snow*, merely snorted, unsupportive.

Xu Fengnian flicked his finger, sending a small insect—he couldn't tell if it was a mosquito, fly, or moth—onto the Little Mud Figure's cheek. The force was neither too light nor too heavy, and he flicked several more, teasing, "That's for slandering this Young Master as heartless! That's for you, lazybones, not practicing your sword!"

The poor, pathetic Little Mud Figure's cheek stung, and she gesticulated wildly, her face full of fury.

The Old Sword God turned his head away, out of sight, out of mind.

Xu Fengnian knew when to stop; after teasing the Little Mud Figure, who had no way to retaliate, he got up and went to Qingniao's carriage. Shu Xiu and Yang Qingfeng were carefully guarding nearby. Xu Fengnian waved, signaling them to withdraw, then boarded and stooped to enter the carriage. He gently held Qingniao in his arms, closed his eyes, and slowly regulated his breathing. The highest level of the Great Yellow Court cultivation allows one to nurture 108 green lotuses within the body, each vital point aligning perfectly with celestial mysteries. The common description of a righteous person standing tall and firm is most fitting as a metaphor for the Great Yellow Court. To truly be a Daoist Immortal, one must both abide by heaven's will and stay grounded.

Li Chungang added a few logs to the campfire. Looking at the sullen Jiang Ni, he tentatively asked, "How about practicing some swordplay?"

Jiang Ni's face showed hesitation; her pretty features were illuminated by the firelight, making her look extraordinarily beautiful. She was truly a natural beauty. The Emperor of Western Chu was originally a dashing and romantic figure, and the Empress was an unparalleled beauty in the history of the Spring and Autumn Period. Prince Guangling once openly declared his intention to take the Empress as a concubine. Immediately after the smoke cleared at Xilei Wall, Prince Guangling had already dispatched envoys to Grand General Xu Xiao, promising that if Xu Xiao would hand over the Western Chu Empress to be his private plaything, he would not hesitate to give Xu Xiao his six thousand elite Wei warriors. Unexpectedly, Xu Xiao agreed, but after entering the imperial palace, he merely presented the noble beauty with a ten-foot length of white silk.

The Old Sword God lowered his voice and said, "Little Mud Figure, my true, hidden skills are still concealed. I originally intended to save them for fighting Wang Xianzhi and Deng Tai'a, but if you want to learn, I will certainly teach you everything I know."

Jiang Ni calmly said, "Learning characters is enough."

Li Chungang, once again inwardly wounded by this girl, sighed and continued to drink and eat roasted meat. To be honest, this was the most comfortable thing about being with the Young Master. He didn't quite get served hand and foot, but at least the sheepskin coat he wore fit well. Having food served to him, however, was truly rare. In the past, when he wandered the martial world, people only saw how magnificent and powerful his sword strikes as the Sword God were. They had no idea that while opponents on the sword path were easy to deal with, his own stomach was hard to please, especially in remote, desolate places. Finding wild game was one thing, but roasting the meat himself was truly troublesome. "So what if you're unrivaled in the world?" he thought. "Does that mean you don't need to eat, drink, or relieve yourself? Do you not even need to fart?" The Old Sword God looked around, then glared at the Nine-Dou Rice Daoist, who was gazing at him with a look of reverence. "What are you looking at? You're an old man yourself, acting like a lovesick maiden. Do I have flowers or silver on my face?" Li Chungang sighed inwardly. All things considered, Jiang Ni suited him best. As for that kid, he was barely tolerable.

Princess Pei got up with Yu Youwei and quietly asked, "Where is the caravan heading next?"

Yu Youwei calmly replied, "If nothing unexpected happens, we'll be heading directly to Jiangnan Province."

Princess Pei was about to speak when the disrespectful old man in sheepskin threw a roasted meat bone onto her ample, alluring backside, which her clothes couldn't quite conceal. He clicked his tongue and chuckled, "Be careful tonight. That kid keeps peeking at you there. Oh, and just now he told me he wants you to strike many poses: 'Guanyin sitting on a lotus,' 'Old man pushing a cart,' 'Old tree with roots entwined,' 'Roasted goose embracing the moon'... Anyway, I don't quite understand them, so I wonder if you, Princess Jing'an, do. I reckon by the time you've performed all eighteen martial arts, it'll be dawn. Shall I call you for breakfast tomorrow morning? Or, to be a good person through and through, I could send some late-night snacks to you both later?"

Pei Nanwei felt like dying.