Chapter 175: Step-by-Step Everlasting Lotus

The previous update disappeared from Baidu.

"The Sword Snow Stride" by Fenghuo Xizhu Hou.

PC Reading Link:Link:Chapter Series Master Post:

Please wait patiently; no replies are allowed before the main text is posted.

Annex: Baidu Tieba QQ Group Arbitration Team: 11043035 / Prodigy Club YY: 1655

(Chapter Two.)

Murong Tonghuang hesitated, then forcefully thumped the Young Master's chest. In that instant, he shed his alluring pretense, his sullen expression, and radiated an unfamiliar, formidable heroism.

Lying on the slope, Xu Fengnian chuckled, "Chen Yu, who ranks second on the Rouge List, is said to be no less than Nangong. You know that, right?"

Murong Tonghuang nodded, but he was completely bewildered as to why Chen Yu and Nangong were brought up.

Xu Fengnian chuckled, "That Nangong, like you, is a man. He has a 'white fox' face, even more handsome than yours. He's currently in the Listening Tide Pavilion of the Beiliang Prince's Manor, studying secret manuals. Once he comes out, he might just be the best under heaven. These two sabers of mine, Spring Thunder and Embroidered Winter, were originally his; one I gave him, and one I borrowed."

Murong Tonghuang burst out laughing, "Keep explaining, and people will think you have something to hide!"

Xu Fengnian felt a sense of relief. He had a thousand knots in his heart, and helping this brother-sister pair untie even one was a step forward. With the troublesome matters of the Xuanyuan family dealt with, as for Murong Tonghuang's future, he merely needed to plant a subtle hint, something that barely qualified as a setup, and then he would no longer concern himself with it. Indeed, when playing chess, one must learn from old monster Huang Sanjia; whether it's an imitation that falls short or not, just learn it first. Xu Fengnian inexplicably thought of the Celestial Being from Longhu Mountain who arrived in his dream riding a dragon, Zhao Huangchao. This Zhao was not the Zhao of the Celestial Master's Mansion. Xu Fengnian still hadn't figured out whether it was a dream or reality. If it was real, why did the girl "Hehe," who had been climbing the cliff all night, not react? Not even the old sword god Li Chungang noticed! But if it were just a grand dream, a white python against a black dragon, everything the middle-aged Taoist Zhao Huangchao said was well-founded, especially the sky dragon with a beard that ascended from the cliff, almost identical to the one in "Spring Thunder's Roaring Dragon Painting." This painting of celestial kings and maidens was by the hand of a great Qi Cultivator, accompanied by ominous prophecies. Xu Fengnian frowned deeply, not daring to speak of this strange matter to anyone for now; he probably could only mention it to Xu Xiao and Li Yishan upon returning to Beiliang.

The Young Master didn't know that not long ago, on Huishan, someone happened to be looking towards Longhu Mountain, just as he was. Xuanyuan Qingfeng and her grandfather, Xuanyuan Guoqie, stood on the River View Terrace of the Summit Pavilion. Leaning against the railing, the pavilion built into the cliff and the terrace jutting out abruptly, mountain winds whistled around them. It was bitterly cold at such a height. Xuanyuan Qingfeng pulled her fur collar tighter. The old man, whose hair was frosted with age, chuckled, "Cold? You lazy girl, just like your father, you refuse to put effort into martial arts. Practicing martial arts isn't necessarily about fighting; strengthening the body is the foundation."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng's cheeks were flushed red by the strong winds that swept from the river surface to the Guniugang cliff face. She pulled her neck back and pouted playfully, "It's not too late to learn now, is it?"

Xuanyuan Guoqie, with the ancient sword 'Baopu' at his waist, smiled but said nothing.

The old man was the sole remaining descendant of his generation in the Huishan Xuanyuan family. After their ancestor Xuanyuan Dapan suffered repeated defeats and retreated for secluded cultivation, it was Xuanyuan Guoqie who single-handedly propped up the family. He was obscure in his youth, missing the chance to contend with Li Chungang, the sword god then known as "Li the Invincible." Only in the past two decades did his reputation soar. His first battle after descending the mountain was to challenge the toughest, the Wu Family's Sword Mound, using it as a whetstone for his blade, forcing the Wu family's Unadorned King Sword out of its sheath. Though defeated, Xuanyuan Guoqie emerged with honor, praised by the martial arts world as a "late bloomer." In recent years, he had befriended many old and venerable figures. Not long ago, he visited the Eastern Yue Sword Pool, where he single-handedly defeated six sword puppets and sword automatons, his fame trailing closely behind Deng Tai'a. It was unknown whether the rumor that Xuanyuan Guoqie would replace Wang Mingyin and become the eleventh ranked master was true or false.

Xuanyuan Guoqie said softly, "I hear Li Chungang is with the Young Master of Beiliang."

The old man flicked the scabbard with his finger, and the ancient sword inside hummed, its sound surprisingly overpowering the whistling mountain winds, yet Xuanyuan Qingfeng showed no reaction. The old man scoffed, "What a swordsman Li Chungang once was! When did he become a lackey for Beiliang? Truly disappointing! I had planned to seek out this senior swordsman for a spar after returning from the Sword Pool. While it saves me trouble now, I wonder if Li Chungang is even worthy of having this Baopu sword drawn against him!"

Xuanyuan Qingfeng smiled, "A lean camel is still bigger than a horse, isn't that old man ranked eighth?"

Xuanyuan Guoqie smiled indifferently, "Girl, don't try to provoke me. Do you know that once a swordsman's realm regresses, it's incredibly difficult to make brave progress again, especially for a master of Li Chungang's caliber? The difficulty is comparable to transcending a tribulation and ascending to immortality. As long as he's not at the Sword Immortal level, your grandfather can definitely fight him. If this 'eighth' rank is truly deserved, then that's fine. But if it's merely a title bestowed out of nostalgia for Li Chungang's unparalleled prowess in his youth, then I might as well tear down that facade. For the former sword god, who lost his Wooden Ox and an arm, to be defeated by the Baopu sword is better than becoming a stepping stone for these younger generations."

Just as Xuanyuan Qingfeng was about to speak, the old man waved his hand, "Girl, go ahead. Don't catch a cold. Your father, who's obsessed with his studies, will nag me for a month if you do."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng left the Summit Pavilion with a dejected expression. How could someone obsessed with books to the point of daze stand firm in the Xuanyuan family, where martial arts fanatics gathered? As Xuanyuan Qingfeng walked through the pavilion, past the towering bookshelves, her slender hand slowly swept over the secret manuals arranged by pronunciation, her eyes vacant. These ancient, fragrant books, touched by her fingers, were all highly coveted martial arts manuals in the Jianghu. She had read most of them and committed them firmly to memory, because she knew that once she married, even if a husband were to be brought into the family, she would no longer be permitted to enter the Summit Pavilion. Thus, for years, she had painstakingly memorized the contents of the manuals, page after page, book after book, hoping that in the future she could find a man to rely on, one who could revitalize the direct lineage that her scholar father had depleted of its vigor, and restore the grand bearing it deserved as a major clan.

After leaving the Summit Pavilion, Xuanyuan Qingfeng's face was filled with determination.

An old woman who had looked after Xuanyuan Qingfeng since childhood hurried over and whispered, "Mistress, Yuan Tingshan has returned, showing signs of fatal injuries."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng asked calmly, "Can he be saved?"

The old woman shook her head, "With ordinary methods, he will surely die."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng stood frozen on the spot, her mind reeling.

The old woman said with pity, "Mistress, if Yuan Tingshan dies, he dies. We can simply find another young man to diligently train."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng's lips were pale, and she murmured, "There won't be another chance."

She suddenly turned around, walked past countless bookshelves in the pavilion, and came to the River View Terrace, where she knelt with a thud behind Xuanyuan Guoqie.

The old man, whose Qi cultivation had reached perfection, merely remained silent, without asking a question.

Xuanyuan Qingfeng pressed her hands and knees against the chilling jade ground and said in a deep voice, "Grandfather, please save Yuan Tingshan's life!"

Xuanyuan Guoqie uttered a cryptic remark that would baffle outsiders: "If you wish to possess the skill to humiliate others, you must first master the art of self-humiliation."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng's body began to tremble, more and more violently, until she finally collapsed onto the ground, her heart twisted with pain, sobbing, "Grandfather, why did the Old Ancestor choose me for dual cultivation! Why?! As long as you save Yuan Tingshan, as long as Yuan Tingshan can withstand ten of the Old Ancestor's blades, Qingfeng won't have to go to Guniu Peak!"

Xuanyuan Guoqie shook his head.

A middle-aged scholar, bearing a seven-tenths resemblance to Xuanyuan Guoqie, walked onto the River View Terrace, coughing. His hair was tied with a leisurely scarf. He held a copy of the "Moral Thunder-Suppressing Incantation" in one hand, while the other covered his mouth. When he lowered his hand, he placed it behind his back, revealing a puddle of crimson blood.

Xuanyuan Guoqie said with slight anger, "Jingcheng, since you're not well, don't wander around!"

Xuanyuan Jingcheng said bitterly, "Life and death are fated. Just accept your destiny."

Xuanyuan Guoqie, his back to his daughter and son, waved his sleeve, clearly quite angered.

Xuanyuan Jingcheng transferred the Taoist book to the hand stained with blood, gripping it tightly. He bent down, and his free hand reached out to help his daughter.

Xuanyuan Qingfeng, already weak in her limbs, suddenly found an surge of strength for some reason. She forcefully slapped away her biological father's hand and, with a resentful sob, cursed, "You're not worthy!"

Xuanyuan Jingcheng, the direct eldest grandson of the Xuanyuan family, his face bitter, said softly, "Come, your mother has warmed a pot of Angelica wine for you. Go warm your stomach."

Xuanyuan Qingfeng shakily stood up and staggered out of the River View Terrace, leaving Xuanyuan Jingcheng with a resolute and desolate figure.

Xuanyuan Guoqie, angry at his lack of ambition and lamenting his misfortune, raised his voice and scolded, "Look at you! To marry a 'used shoe' back then, you not only shamed the family, but what have you done all these years?!"

Xuanyuan Jingcheng replied calmly, "Read books. Read the profound principles of the Spring and Autumn Annals. Read about Taoist non-action. Read about Buddhist compassion."

Xuanyuan Jingcheng spoke each word slowly, neither agitated nor hurried. Indeed, had he not possessed such a placid temperament, how could he have endured two decades of disdain and suppression? The other two branches of the family had been trampling all over him, yet this scholar had always remained silent, simply reading.

"Jingcheng wants to let the Old Ancestor know that his so-called 'mastery of the three teachings' is utter nonsense."

Xuanyuan Jingcheng walked to the railing and stood shoulder to shoulder with Xuanyuan Guoqie.

Xuanyuan Guoqie's eyebrows twitched with irritation; he wished he could slap this good-for-nothing, yet seemingly possessed, son to death.

Xuanyuan Jingcheng smiled, gripping the "Moral Thunder-Suppressing Incantation" tighter, blood seeping further into the pages. He said, "Since I cannot become an immortal..."

"Shut up! You blasphemous wretch!"

Xuanyuan Guoqie slapped his son across the face and then swept his sleeve, walking away.

Clearly, if he had allowed this middle-aged scholar to continue speaking, the words would only become more shocking.

Xuanyuan Jingcheng, unfazed by the slap, gazed towards Longhu Mountain.

Logically, with Xuanyuan Guoqie's strength, even if somewhat restrained, the mark on Xuanyuan Jingcheng's face should not have vanished instantly.

When the Summit Pavilion was empty, he tossed away the "Moral Thunder-Suppressing Incantation" and leaped over the railing.

He soared away from Guniu Peak, heading straight for the surface of the Dragon King River.

As he descended mid-air, he stepped on the book with his toes, then glided obliquely forward through the sky, like an eagle or a falcon.

A true immortal was near, yet unrecognized.

Xuanyuan Jingcheng glided freely over the Dragon King River. With his first step landing on the bank, he created a large crater. The second step was slightly smaller, and the third smaller still. For seven consecutive steps, each step created a pit, like blooming lotuses.

One lotus with each step, lotuses blossoming with every stride.

After seven steps, not a speck of dust stirred on the ground.