Chapter 198: Deng Tai'a Can Snap His Fingers Six Times

War and Intrigue Across the Lands

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When two figures left the city and headed for the sea, Wudi City fell into a brief silence, then instantly erupted into a wave-like clamor. Both city residents and visiting heroes surged out of the city en masse. If one could overlook the city from above, it would appear as if four torrents of people converged near the four gates. Three of these torrents then changed direction, sweeping grandly towards the East Sea shore. Some impatient martial artists, whose skills were not mediocre, disregarded slow walking and directly scaled walls and rooftops within the city, leaping over the city gates. This spectacular scene of hundreds of people moving swiftly with great agility was indeed rare.

In just the time it takes to brew half a cup of tea, Wudi City, which could accommodate hundreds of thousands of people, became empty and desolate, eerily quiet. After all, the one-armed old man, who called himself Li Chungang, possessed the undeniable immortal ability to control eighteen hundred swords with one hand. Furthermore, Wang Xianzhi had been presiding over Wudi City for over half a century. Neither the Sword God Deng Tai'a nor Cao Guanzi had ever managed to draw him out of the city for a fight. It was obvious to anyone that this old man in a sheepskin coat, though his fame might have faded, was a truly formidable figure. For martial artists who chose to visit or settle in Wudi City, who wouldn't eagerly anticipate such a rare and peak battle? Missing it would lead to lifelong regret.

The originally bustling main thoroughfare, once filled with chatter, was instantly deserted. Even the wine stall owner and two shop assistants had run off. Only His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and his retinue remained, compelled by their duty. Shuxiu, though itching to join, knew that entering Wudi City was like treading on thin ice. Moreover, the current grand spectacle was orchestrated by the Crown Prince and the old Sword God himself, placing them at the center of a whirlpool. She dared not follow the crowd out of the city to watch. If anything were to go wrong with the Crown Prince, the Prince of Northern Liang would not easily target the bold and highly skilled Li Chungang. Instead, he would use her, Shuxiu, as an example to warn others. For Shuxiu, even dying in place of the Crown Prince would be a luxury; her fate would undoubtedly be worse than death.

Yang Qingfeng, with his stoic and expressionless face, glanced at Shuxiu, then continued to gaze at the inner city wall, betraying no emotion. In the center of the inner city stood a towering pavilion, reaching into the clouds, much like the Tongtian Pavilion built by the East Yue Emperor, who, inspired by a phrase from a favorite poet, "Dare not speak aloud, lest I disturb the heavenly beings," spent half his national treasury. The world's second greatest master had shot forth from this very pavilion, plummeting into the East Sea to challenge Li Chungang amidst the vast, misty ocean where green tides surge. Yang Qingfeng's expression was calm, yet his heart was as turbulent as Shuxiu's. As a martial artist, who wouldn't be captivated by Li Chungang's divine feat of borrowing all the city's swords and his heroic spirit? Furthermore, the long-standing feud between these two old masters was a major thread woven throughout the entire martial arts world. Since Li Chungang left Northern Liang, splitting a river for two hundred *zhang* with a single sleeve at Ghost Gate Pass, forcing the retreat of the Wu family's Sword Master outside Xiangfan City, and achieving the Sword Immortal realm at Daxueping—wasn't all of it merely preparation for today's battle?

While his "cheap dad" stood stunned, Little Bug struggled and jumped down from the tall horse, probably due to his weak legs, falling face-first. After getting up and dusting himself off, he went to the wine stall and helped himself to several good bottles of wine. He then sat down and began to drink by himself, quite precociously. Finally, feeling a pang of conscience, he waved to his "prodigal dad," who was now a guest minister, and chuckled, "Dad, let's drink! It's on the house!"

Long Yuxuan was in no mood to drink. He feared that both the Crown Prince and the old Sword God Li Chungang might perish in Wudi City, and if he, a guest minister of Northern Liang, were trapped inside, his fate would be dismemberment by five horses or being trampled into a pulp. Long Yuxuan remained on his horse, but a man leading a donkey, who was walking against the flow of people into the city, smelled the wine. He chose a table far from the mischievous child and also rummaged for several pots of wine, remembering to place a few silver shards from his pouch onto the table. The young sword-attendant on the donkey sighed and dismounted, cautiously observing the group of strangers. They were a peculiar pair: a pale, ghostly-faced man, a gentle-looking woman in green acting as the groom, and the aunt riding on the horse. The aunt's bosom was remarkably prominent, appearing as though it might burst from her clothes, causing the inexperienced sword-attendant's heart to race. Especially after Shuxiu gave him a flirtatious glance, the boy's face flushed red, his neck thickened, and his breathing became erratic. This unsuited sword-attendant awkwardly turned his head, not daring to meet the "aunt's" gaze. His master, who often drank beside him, frequently reminded him that there were taboos when wandering the martial world: old Daoist nuns, innocent children, and beautiful women—these three types of people should not be approached. If one's cultivation was insufficient, one could easily fall into trouble. The boy, named Sanlu by his master, lowered his head and secretly thought that while the "aunt" was indeed beautiful, she was a bit old and didn't seem like a proper lady from a prestigious family. He didn't particularly like her, content merely to feast his eyes.

Just as the boy was feeling regret, a fleeting glance caught his eye: a face seen through the curtains of a carriage. He instantly froze, captivated – a beauty glimpsed through a pearl-strung curtain. Sanlu was struck as if by lightning. The middle-aged man, who was slowly drinking, saw the sword-attendant's distraught expression and smiled casually. Following the boy's dazed gaze, he saw an exquisitely beautiful face, whose gender was hard to discern. He thought, "The boy has good taste." However, to say Sanlu was merely coveting beauty would be to wrong him. While the young woman behind the curtain was indeed beautiful, she was still slightly less stunning than the Ms. Chen he had seen recently at Luoshen Garden, and Sanlu hadn't been so utterly captivated then. The woman hiding behind the curtain seemed annoyed by Sanlu's direct stare; she subtly frowned, released the curtain, and was seen no more. Sanlu slowly recovered, filled with shame and self-consciousness, which amused the man. Had he truly fallen in love? The man knew nothing of such romantic affections, so he couldn't offer Sanlu any advice to resolve his feelings, thinking it best to just let nature take its course.

Upon seeing the master and servant pair, Long Yuxuan, the "prodigal dad," remained wary. Someone riding a donkey wasn't strange, but a donkey with a peach branch, combined with Wudi City, was not to be underestimated. Although after the emergence of the new Sword God Deng Tai'a, who enjoyed wandering the martial world with a peach branch, many martial artists, blindly idolizing his style, would often imitate him for no reason. This led to strong disapproval from some old-school martial artists. Imagine, during peach blossom season, walking down the street and seeing three or four out of ten sword-wielding heroes and heroines carrying peach branches. What a spectacle! Wasn't it tiresome? This was similar to the "green robe wave" initiated by Guanzi Cao Changqing back then, when almost everyone in the city wore green robes, and the style was popular across the land. In terms of popularity, among the top ten masters, Wang Xianzhi, Deng Tai'a, and Cao Changqing, who ranked in the top three, could leave the remaining seven far behind. Long Yuxuan naturally hadn't had the chance to see the true face of Sword God Deng Tai'a, and he knew that not just any person riding a donkey and carrying a peach branch was the Sword God. However, the gentle-looking man before him didn't appear ordinary; his brilliance was restrained, and his demeanor was exceptional. Long Yuxuan felt as if he was facing a formidable enemy. Seeing Little Bug, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, pouring wine, he hesitated, then dismounted and cautiously sat beside the child, separating the "rascal" from the master and servant pair.

On the empty main thoroughfare of Wudi City, the Crown Prince continued to carry his wine cup and walk forward. Standing side-by-side at the base of the wall were six renowned Wudi City martial slaves. There were a total of twelve martial slaves, all former top martial artists who, after losing to Wang Xianzhi, were forced to serve him as slaves for generations. They included four swordsmen, three blade masters, one spear master, two boxing masters, one zither player, and one chess player. Wudi City deploying half of its martial slaves at the city wall was certainly not a display of hospitality. It was meant to make the Crown Prince, who had traveled from Liangzhou on a white horse, retreat in the face of difficulty. Wudi City had never been governed by national laws, only by the city rules established by Wang Xianzhi. Here, even emperors, princes, and high officials held no sway. Everyone had to follow the rules, unless their "fists were hard enough"—meaning they were powerful enough to be respected even by the terrestrial immortal Wang Xianzhi.

The sword-attendant Sanlu repeatedly tried to peek through the carriage curtain, but could no longer glimpse that astonishingly beautiful face. He had no choice but to drink to embolden himself and, finding nothing else to say, quietly asked, "Master, who is that young master? His tone and courage are too great. He dares to provoke old man Wang. Now that Li Chungang has left the city, how will he get onto the city wall? Won't those six martial slaves, all close to the first-rank, easily beat him to a pulp?"

The man, drinking with his head bowed, squinted his eyes, looking at the young man's back. He vaguely sensed a familiar aura from years past. In a daze, he said, "Ah, him. He's a distant relative, roughly speaking. By seniority, he should call me uncle."

The sword-attendant was stunned on the spot. "Master," Sanlu said, "Ever since I've known you, you've never spoken about your family background. How about you tell me today?"

The man thought for a moment, holding his bowl suspended in the air, then finally smiled and said, "When I was practicing swordsmanship in a certain place back then, his mother, who is my distant cousin, once showed me kindness by providing a meal, saving my life, and even imparting knowledge. Bringing you to Wudi City this time is to repay that kindness."

The young boy straightforwardly said, "Master, it's not that I'm lecturing you, but according to what you're saying, this kindness is immense. How will you repay it? Plus, you two are relatives. If you're stingy with your help, I won't be able to stand it! See if I'll ever boil water or cook for you again!"

The man teased, "Do you think I don't know what's on your mind? Aren't you just thinking that young master has something to do with the girl you fell in love with at first sight, and you want to use my intervention to do a good deed? You, my boy, that's called being generous with other people's money! Otherwise, with your stingy nature, ten blows wouldn't even knock half a copper coin out of you."

The sword-attendant, mortified, no longer paid attention to his sharp-tongued master. However, he cast a sidelong glance at the carriage, afraid the young lady might have overheard and formed a bad impression of him.

The man sighed softly, "Before Wu Su left the Wu Family Sword Mound, we parted ways at Sword Mountain, and I made a promise to her. Later, she entered the Imperial City alone for 'Xu Quezi' (the lame one), and I couldn't keep up in time, which led to her suffering a permanent illness. I have felt guilty ever since." As he spoke, the man bent down and retrieved a huangli (yellow pear) wood box from his book case. With a swipe of his finger, he gently pushed it open, revealing twelve exquisite, miniature swords of varying lengths but all delicate, with distinct colors. Before taking action, the harmless-looking man turned to the two carriages and smiled, saying, "I am Deng Tai'a. When I was learning swordsmanship, I owed Princess Wu Su a favor, and today I will repay half of it. I hope you all will not obstruct me."

Long Yuxuan spat out a mouthful of wine and coughed violently. His face turned pale with fright.

"Unlike the Princess's sword, which entered the world to save people, Deng Tai'a's swordsmanship has always been solely for killing. He never displays the twelve swords in his box to common or mediocre people. This time, he makes an exception, drawing six swords."

Even the carefree Little Bug, for the first time, revealed a solemn expression. Qingyi tightened her grip on her Chana Spear, not letting her guard down one bit due to the friendly demeanor of the man who called himself Deng Tai'a. Shuxiu and Yang Qingfeng exchanged glances. Murong Tonghuang once again lifted the curtain, her eyes wide and her brows furrowed. The young sword-attendant closest to Sword God Deng Tai'a felt a surge of heroic spirit, his eyes gleaming. For a moment, everyone nearby held their breath. How many people in the world were fortunate enough to witness the Peach Blossom Sword God, who prided himself on unmatched killing prowess, draw his sword to kill?

The huangli sword box neatly arranged twelve swords, the longest no longer than a middle finger, the shortest merely the length of a thumb. The foremost swordsman of the current martial world, whose renown far surpassed that of the old Sword God Li Chungang, smiled faintly. He extended his index finger and gently flicked the hilt of the first crimson miniature sword on the left, calmly saying, "Xuanjia." The miniature sword leaped into the air, paused slightly, then shot towards the city wall. Deng Tai'a then extended his middle finger, tapping with two fingers together, "Qingmei, Zhuma." The two swords, full of lively spiritual energy, bounced into the air and flew off again. The last time was with three fingers. "Chunshui, Zhaolu, Taohua." Exactly half of the small sword box was now empty.

Even Princess Jing'an was stirred by curiosity and awe by this man, whose legend was as rich as ink. Following his gesture, she, along with Shuxiu, Yang Qingfeng, and Long Yuxuan, looked towards the base of the city wall. Only Little Bug and Qingniao kept their eyes fixed on the unassuming yellow sword box. Those straining to see far away had no idea that almost instantaneously after the man flicked his fingers and the swords leaped from the box, the six miniature swords had already returned to hover two feet above the box, slowly descending. It wasn't until Deng Tai'a closed the huangli wood box that everyone belatedly realized what had happened: the six martial slaves appeared to have been pierced through their heads by something, six columns of blood spurted out, and their bodies struck the city wall, finally slumping slowly to the ground.

At this moment, Deng Tai'a, who had just killed with flicked flying swords, rose. He did not touch the yellow box containing the twelve priceless flying swords. Smiling at Little Bug, who was gently shaking his head, he said, "Deng Tai'a congratulates Old Immortal Zhao on returning to simplicity and wandering the land freely. Please, Old Celestial Master, deliver this box to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and tell him that Deng Tai'a's flying sword killing techniques are all contained within it."

Little Bug sighed with a troubled expression, "You're just going to walk away like that? You're forcing Wang Xianzhi and Li Chungang into a fight to the death, aren't you? If Li Chungang loses, how will Xu Fengnian get out of Wudi City? What's the point of you giving or not giving the twelve flying swords then?"

Deng Tai'a picked up his peach branch, led his donkey, and smiled, "Old Immortal, this no longer concerns Deng Tai'a."

Little Bug rolled his eyes helplessly, "The current martial world, this humble Daoist truly cannot comprehend it anymore."

Long Yuxuan's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

With no further obstruction, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince smoothly walked onto the city wall. He approached the zitan (red sandalwood) sword box, sat down cross-legged, placed the bowl of wine before him, and looked out at the East Sea. Perhaps the old monster of Wudi City sensed the commotion within the city and was truly enraged, for the sea surface immediately churned and overturned. Was the old rogue truly going to make all the waters of the East Sea stand upright? Xu Fengnian gazed at the sea surface; the waves grew fiercer, and a drooping sword-veil pressed down like dark clouds over the city. He suddenly grinned and said, "Time to make a quick exit! Old Huang, I'll come back to see you after I make it back alive from Northern Mang."

On this day, besides the two generations of sword gods clashing in Wudi City, another event shook the entire world: The young sect leader of Wudang Mountain descended the mountain on a crane.