Chapter 202: Eastward Journey, Westward Return

Ten steps, a man slain; a thousand li, no trace. When the deed is done, he brushes his sleeves and deeply hides his name. The essence of this popular chivalric poem lies in the word "slay"; changing it to "save" would clearly be out of place. At this moment, the sickly Crown Prince, sitting in the carriage, felt quite strange.

His "Haha Auntie," Jia Jiajia, who kept a large cat as a pet, was assumed to be a cold-blooded, top-tier assassin, even if not driven by national vengeance or personal animosity. He never thought she would intervene to save him, taking on Zhao Xuansu's Three Pure Ones' tribulation herself. A few days ago, on the peak overlooking the East Sea, Xu Fengnian's body was like a roaring alchemical furnace. Unlike external elixirs, which rely on minerals and herbs, this was an internal elixir melting his essence, qi, and spirit. The danger involved was no less than Old Daoist Zhao's killing move. Zhao Xuansu's 'Purple Qi from the East' and Wang Chonglou's 'Great Yellow Court' clashed like weapons. Xu Fengnian fell into a coma, close to death. When he awoke, he learned from Qingniao that Jia Jiajia had saved his life, drawing the purple qi into herself in reverse. She then departed without a single word.

The Peach Blossom Sword God asked Qingniao to leave two messages for his distant nephew. He said he had removed the restrictions on the Twelve Swords' secret techniques. Their new master would need to feed them with blood. In as little as three years, or as long as ten, they would develop a psychic connection. As long as he had abundant internal energy and mastered a superior sword control technique, he would be able to guide and wield the Twelve Swords. He stated that his past debt to the Xu family, or rather to Wu Su, for her teachings and saving his life, was now settled. From now on, they should avoid meeting again if possible.

Old Man Li, in his sheepskin fur, lifted the curtain, bent down, and entered the carriage, lazily leaning against the wall. Xu Fengnian glanced at him. He'd only heard that the battle at the East Sea ended in a draw, with no one able to discern the specifics. Wang Xianzhi had parted the sea to send off the Old Sword God, giving him great respect. Evidently, Old Monster Wang, who had stood unrivaled at the pinnacle of martial arts for sixty years, had never forgotten the favor of half a 'Wooden Horse Bull' sword from back then. This made Xu Fengnian feel a slight flicker of goodwill towards the Master of Martial Emperor City. The Old Sword God saw a yellow pearwood box resting on a cotton blanket adorned with a hundred-birds-adoring-the-phoenix pattern. He unceremoniously opened the sword box. Though clearly imbued with sharp sword qi, the sheepskin-clad old man scoffed, "Feminine. A mere embroidery needle. Is this junior, surnamed Deng, a woman?"

Xu Fengnian, whose injuries were spreading from inside out, had a pale face. A small, exquisite silk blanket from Xishu Tiangong covered his knees. Additionally, a warm charcoal stove had been added to the carriage. It wasn't even winter yet, which showed how weak the Crown Prince was at that moment. He gave a wry smile and said, "Fortunately, Deng Tai'a wasn't here, or you'd have to fight another battle, senior."

Li Chungang reached down, took off his boots, comfortably scratched his feet, and glared, saying, "What's wrong? Can't I defeat Deng Tai'a just because I couldn't defeat Wang Xianzhi?"

Xu Fengnian raised an eyebrow and cautiously asked, "On the East Sea, did you lose, senior?"

Li Chungang pursed his lips and said straightforwardly, "If I lost, I lost. What's there to hide? Wang Xianzhi has never dropped in cultivation level over the years; his cultivation has steadily risen, his foundation is solid, and his comprehension is excellent. It's not surprising I couldn't defeat him. However, in that fight, Wang Xianzhi truly put in nine-tenths of his strength. If he fought with all his might, perhaps only Ancestor Lu from five hundred years ago could suppress that man. I'm still a bit short. It's a pity you didn't see him make the East Sea water stand upright; it could truly scare outsiders."

Ignoring the Crown Prince's shock, the Old Sword God's gaze returned to the sword box. This time, his words were not harsh; he sighed softly, "These twelve miniature flying swords, with their restrictions removed, are practically half-dead. It's truly not easy for them to still retain their current sword intent. When it comes to nurturing swords and flying swords, Deng Tai'a is indeed unmatched under heaven. He is truly a sword art genius capable of bringing shame to the Wu family's sword mound. But naming them 'Childhood Sweethearts,' 'Spring Water,' 'Peach Blossom,' and so on, truly grates on my old teeth. Compared to 'Wooden Horse Bull,' they are miles apart. The conflict between sword dao and sword techniques, or between techniques and the Dao, seems irreconcilable. However, when a technique reaches its pinnacle, it is no different from the Dao. Deng Tai'a is a clever man; his approach shares a similar subtlety with Wang Xianzhi's method of using strength to prove the Dao. Only such a martial world is truly interesting."

Xu Fengnian's expression was odd. The sheepskin-clad old man, having comfortably scratched his feet, reached out and re-closed the sword box. This gave Xu Fengnian a headache. It was fortunate that the person before him was Li Chungang, capable of treating Deng Tai'a's gifted sword box this way. If it were any ordinary martial arts hero, they would surely enshrine this small box respectfully. Li Chungang seemed to catch the Crown Prince's gaze and said, "What are you staring at, boy? Do you expect me to enshrine this thing? I wouldn't bother! However, that blanket on you is quite nice, an inch of gold, tsk tsk. Who taught you? Don't you know that when people are cold, they need warmth, and one should not take clothes from others to make ground coverings?"

Even though Xu Fengnian was not known for his academic prowess, this pointed and easily understood poetic line clearly conveyed its satire. He looked down at the precious 'inch-of-gold' blanket, paused, and then self-mockingly said, "Senior, you truly care for the nation and its people. What a true hero and Grandmaster!"

The sheepskin-clad old man was unfazed by the boy's flattery. He picked his earwax and clicked his tongue, saying, "I heard Zhao Xuansu was willing to risk his old life to pin the Dragon Tiger Mountain tribulation on you. As for that young assassin who slew Wang Mingyin, it would have been one thing if she didn't take advantage of the situation, but she actually helped you? Did Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng's thousand taels of gold all go to waste? This whole affair is murky, and I can't quite make sense of it. To say your luck is bad is indeed accurate; you ran into Zhao Xuansu, a Celestial Master who hadn't left Dragon Tiger Mountain in a century. But to say your luck is good isn't wrong either. It was clearly an impending disaster, yet you managed to turn things around. By a stroke of luck, the Three Pure Ones' purple qi unexpectedly forced open your acupoints. How many levels has your Great Yellow Court ascended? Once your injuries heal, won't you be on the verge of reaching the Vajra physique? It truly embodies the saying, 'Wealth is found in danger.' That old rascal Zhao Xuansu is utterly worthless. He has no guts to challenge Xu Xiao and Beiliang's 300,000 cavalry, only knowing how to pick on you, a junior. He crossed the 'Thunder Pond' seeking his own 'military dissolution.' Heh, they say small temples breed big demons. In my opinion, Dragon Tiger Mountain is deep with scoundrels. He ended up losing more than he gained, stirring up trouble with Deng Tai'a. The Celestial Master's Residence won't know peace now."

Xu Fengnian clutched his throbbing chest and sneered through clenched teeth, "That stinking old Daoist was blocked by Deng Tai'a. Unable to kill me, he seized the opportunity when senior opened the Heavenly Gate with his sword, hoping to leave his body and ascend. But he was still intercepted by Deng Tai'a's flying sword, which forced him to self-destruct. Originally, I didn't pursue anything with Dragon Tiger Mountain back in Jianzhou out of respect for Zhao Xituan taking Huang Man'er as his disciple. But indeed, the kind are easily bullied. Regardless of how Deng Tai'a acted, next time I ascend Dragon Tiger Mountain, I will make those yellow-and-purple-robed dignitaries suffer!"

Li Chungang scoffed, "With your meager cultivation? Do you really think you're in the same league as Deng Tai'a or Cao Changqing?"

Xu Fengnian smiled openly, "Well, I'm young. And with senior's guidance, practicing the saber will yield twice the results with half the effort. There will always be a day for revenge and satisfaction."

Li Chungang extended a finger and lightly tapped the sword box, softly uttering the word 'rise.' The sword box slid open, and the twelve flying swords hovered in a line, arranged exactly like Deng Tai'a's formation on the hillside. Ignoring Xu Fengnian's surprise, he continued, "The path of sword intent, when it reaches its peak, is like surging rivers rushing to the East Sea or rolling thunder descending from the heavens. It may seem chaotic due to its overwhelming power, but at its core, it still follows the Dao, and there are laws to adhere to. Both technique and Dao are indispensable. Like a person traveling far, technique is the leg strength, and Dao is the path. With only leg strength, one might go astray, merely drawing a circle around oneself and not traveling far. Knowing only the direction without moving is just like craving plums to quench thirst. Deng Tai'a is still too stingy. He only gave you the twelve flying swords but didn't leave behind the method for controlling them. Giving a man a fish is not as good as teaching him to fish. I demonstrated 'Two Sleeves Green Snake' no less than a hundred times. If you truly remember and engrave it in your heart, it is a superior sword-control technique. One day, you will be able to break through your bottleneck and use your Great Yellow Court to kill with flying swords; this is not a foolish dream. The ancients said, 'Read ten thousand volumes, and your writing will be like a god.' This was also the painstaking reason why I wanted young Jiang to practice calligraphy instead of swordplay. How is practicing calligraphy not practicing swordplay? It's not boasting, but 'Two Sleeves Green Snake' is the pinnacle of sword arts in the martial world for the past century. It's like having those ten thousand volumes at hand. As for how much you, boy, can comprehend, that depends on your fortune. I can't teach you swordplay as if I were helping a toddler learn to walk. Firstly, it would be beneath me, and secondly, it would only be like pulling up seedlings to help them grow, doing you no good."

The twelve flying swords vibrated at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

"Descend."

The flying swords slowly descended, resting quietly in the sword box.

Faced with the Old Sword God Li Chungang's unprecedented sighs and lamentations, Xu Fengnian quietly called out "Senior," and then said nothing more.

The one-armed Li Chungang lifted the curtain, looked out at the scenery, and smiled, "As you guessed, after my battle with Wang Xianzhi, I have no regrets, neither regarding the Way of the Sword nor regarding life itself. I have no descendants; I am an old man with nothing to rely on, unburdened by attachments. What I say today is akin to a dying man's good words. In this life, I too was once young and reckless, drawing my sword to right wrongs. But how vast is the world? Could one old man with one sword ever set it right? I recall a female literary giant in the poetic realm once praised me, saying my 'sword could topple the Five Great Mountains.' I disdained that claim then. But the saying 'sheathing the sword across one's knees' – now that I chew on it carefully, it truly holds some meaning."

Xu Fengnian was overwhelmed with mixed emotions, finding himself speechless.

Logically, Li Chungang, having returned to the Sword Immortal realm and fought a heaven-shaking, ghost-weeping battle with Wang Xianzhi, was undeniably the foremost master of the sword. At the very least, he could stand shoulder to shoulder with Deng Tai'a, placing him among the top three martial grandmasters in the world. This was precisely the time for him to rise in power and make the new martial world look at him with renewed admiration. Yet, the sheepskin-clad old man now appeared lighthearted and unconcerned, with thoughts of completely withdrawing from the martial world. It wasn't born of despondency, but rather of having no attachments and no further desires, truly embodying the demeanor of an immortal. Li Chungang lowered the curtain and chuckled softly, "After I escort you back to Beiliang, I will go see young Jiang for one last time, so I can impart everything I've learned in my life to her. Do you have any words you'd like me to convey for you, boy?"

Xu Fengnian shook his head.

Li Chungang, not being a petty man preoccupied with romantic entanglements, did not dwell on the topic. He suddenly chuckled to himself, "I wonder who will finally subdue that old monster Wang Xianzhi in the future."

Xu Fengnian tentatively asked, "What about the White Fox Face who ascended to the peak and emerged from the building again? And what about Huang Man'er, who entered the Finger-Profound realm?"

The sheepskin-clad old man pondered briefly and said, "If that White Fox Face merely emerged from the building, he's still a long way off. However, if he gets a few more opportunities, practices with a few more of the top ten masters, and hones his skills for another ten or twenty years, then goes to Martial Emperor City, there could indeed be a splendid battle. As for your younger brother, heh, he's already a second Wang Xianzhi. Why bother fighting him?"

Xu Fengnian's mood brightened considerably.

Xu Fengnian lifted the curtain and saw the enchanting scenery outside: a green mountain ahead, covered entirely in lush green bamboo. He told Qingniao to stop, got out of the carriage, and took a stroll, feeling refreshed and exhilarated. This was the first time Pei Nanwei and the Murong siblings had seen the Crown Prince recently. Given the beautiful distant scenery, they all got out to admire it. Shu Xiu gazed at the young Crown Prince, who was heavily wounded and somewhat haggard. For some reason, after the white horse left Liangzhou, something had been brewing within him. It wasn't until outside Martial Emperor City, after experiencing a great calamity, that the man finally transformed, his aura now entirely natural and refined. Shu Xiu stared blankly at his back, lost in thought for a moment.