Chapter 265: Current Melancholy

Despite his newly acquired Vajra body, Xu Fengnian found it tough navigating through the bull herd. A slight misstep would lead to a collision with a robust wild bull, tossing him around like a football. True to his stubborn nature, he refused to easily leap out of the surging tide of bulls. Several times, he was knocked down and instantly trampled by dozens of wild bulls, each weighing two to three thousand pounds—a truly unbearable ordeal. This forced him to flip over their hooves and leap onto their backs. Fortunately, the mirage-like protection from the Grand Yellow Court technique shielded him; otherwise, he would have been left in rags. He would either lie or sit on the bulls’ backs, resting or nurturing his swords, before seeking out more hardship by diving back into the narrow gaps of the herd, continuing to glide like a fish.

The first few collisions left him disheveled and furious, making him wish to obliterate dozens or hundreds of bulls with his Sword Qi Rolling Dragon Wall. He forcibly suppressed his irritation, and by combining his efforts with the Grand Yellow Court mental technique, he finally figured out how to move with the flow. When the herd rested, he would move away from the bulls, sit alone to concentrate, and control his sword to fly. Once, when a wolf pack targeted a young calf, Xu Fengnian didn't kill them. Instead, he stomped the ground with an aura like the heavens collapsing, intimidating and dispersing the wolves. Over several days of such ups and downs, Xu Fengnian seemed to have absorbed the "bull spirit," becoming so much a part of the wild bull herd that many accepted him.

One time, when Xu Fengnian moved from the tail end through the entire bull herd and finally took the lead, the bulls surprisingly followed him, charging forward for more than ten li.

Upon seeing a large expanse of water grass, Xu Fengnian lay on the lakeside grass, gasping deeply and feeling content. He had finally grasped the essence of the "Fish Glide Style," the sixth page of the blade manual, realizing how short-sighted his initial prejudice against this move had been. If integrated with the "Rolling Saber Technique," it truly complemented it perfectly, like a fish in water. Turning to look at Spring Thunder, which hung from his waist, he mocked himself, "Spring Thunder and Xiu Dong, a pair of sisters. After we parted ways, you unfortunately ended up with a good-for-nothing like me. Xiu Dong stayed with White Fox-face; I can't let you be too disgraced."

Xu Fengnian took off his black robe and white undershirt, then squatted down to wash them in the lake, revealing the soft silk treasure armor beneath, a coveted item among jianghu practitioners. The soft armor had once been pierced through the heart by Hehe Girl's hand chop, but after his return to Northern Liang, the ingenious artisans of the Pivotal Cabinet quickly mended it. This secret organization was presumably now busy with the red armor sets that had lost their talisman generals. The Northern Liang army's combat strength was astonishing, with the Pivotal Cabinet, led by the Mo family's grand master, deserving great credit. The soft armor was woven with twelve sword pouches, each storing a flying sword. Before entering Northern Mang, Xu Fengnian's ability to control four or five swords simultaneously outside his body was already his limit. Now, after a battle with the demonic Xie Ling, observing the "Lotus" slowly unfurl in the city, he had an occasional epiphany, opening another spiritual aperture. Then, during his direct confrontations with the wild bull herd in the canyon, breaking through the Jue acupoint, he opened three new acupoints, allowing him to control eight or nine swords. Xu Fengnian spread his clothes on the grass, sat cross-legged, and controlled nine swords, a dazzling display. The reason it's said that good computational skills benefit martial arts is precisely this: each flying sword requires a different emphasis on qi circulation, thickness, and meridians, demanding the sword master's mind to divide into nine. Of course, this doesn't mean Xu Fengnian was only three sword realms away from the previous sword master, Deng Tai'a. Though only one character separates "Yu Jian" (to control swords) and "Yu Jian" (to master swords), it remains an insurmountable heavenly gate.

The nine swords in the air were: Green Plum, with its smooth arc and teal blade; Bamboo Horse, segmented like bamboo; Morning Dew, gleaming brightly when sunlight touched it; Spring Water, like the shifting gaze of a young beauty; Peach Blossom, with a pink blade, enchanting like a bewitching woman; Handleless Emei, as slender as a single strand of hair; Transparent Ant, tiny yet unparalleled in sharpness; Vermilion Bird, with vibrant red radiance swirling around its blade; and finally, Yellow Paulownia, with a broad, yellow blade. Each of these nine flying swords possessed its own unique strengths. The remaining three swords, Xuanjia, Tai'a, and Jinlǚ, exhibited even more remarkable sword intent. Tai'a, in particular, was capable of soaring to the heavens, a power Xu Fengnian dared not wield lightly. The twelve swords were like beautiful women in the world, each with a different temperament. Green Plum, Bamboo Horse, Morning Dew, and Spring Water were like girls next door, easy to nurture. Peach Blossom, Emei, Vermilion Bird, and Yellow Paulownia were like sophisticated ladies, slower to achieve mastery. As for the other three, they were like peerless beauties—stubborn and unyielding. Xu Fengnian diligently attended to them daily, yet their "embryonic" development was incredibly slow. However, after the Buddha's golden blood was incorporated that day, Emei fell into disuse, and most of the subsequent swords were similar. Only Jinlǚ, the Jinlǚ sword, achieved most of its sword embryo almost instantly, a huge surprise. He no longer felt as pained about the three days of wasted effort on the previous swords. After nurturing Jinlǚ, the golden light in his blood completely faded, which brought Xu Fengnian immense relief. He couldn't possibly abandon the other eleven swords just to nurture one Jinlǚ; that would be a huge loss, far too extravagant.

Xu Fengnian used his flying swords to cut water grass, wondering what Deng Tai'a would think if he saw this scene. After exhausting himself, he retrieved the nine swords into their pouches, then grinned, leaned back, clasped his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, half-asleep. From his immersive experience with the geomancy master Yao Jian, he had not only learned some rudimentary skills of discerning soil and water but also gained some understanding of "dragon veins." Yao Jian had said that all dragon veins in the world originated from Kunlun, with three major branches: one reaching Tai'an, one emerging from the East Sea, and one entering Northern Mang. According to the "Green Bag Geography," old mountains lacked vitality while young mountains possessed propitious energy, hence the saying, "Seek dragons in young mountains, not old ones." The closer to Kunlun, the more difficult it became for dynasties born in the west to emerge in due time, as eras changed. Setting aside the imperial court, purely from a feng shui perspective, the initial arrangement of stationing Xu Xiao, a king with a different surname, in Northern Liang to confront Northern Mang, while deploying the imperial relatives Yan Chu and Guangling, two major vassal kings, to the southeast to suppress the dragon qi, clearly revealed Emperor Zhao's hidden agenda: using outsiders as gatekeepers and guards, while keeping family members close to the treasure. Furthermore, because Prince Guangling was the full brother of the current emperor, he was allowed to be stationed in the East Sea region—truly a meticulously crafted plan. However, the theories of dynastic fortune and personal destiny always contained too many contradictions. Li Yishan was very resistant to this idea, and as a result, Yao Jian was caught in the crossfire and reprimanded several times.

Xu Fengnian suddenly stood up and put on his clothes. He then saw a middle-aged Taoist, whose attire was unlike that of Central Plains Taoists, approaching gracefully. Upon seeing Xu Fengnian, the Taoist merely glanced at Spring Thunder, then lost interest. This Taoist had inverted V-shaped eyebrows, a pair of apricot eyes, wore a short brown robe, and had a colorful silk sash tied around his waist. He carried a pine-patterned ancient bronze sword on his back. His appearance was refined and had a distinct immortal aura. He asked in a Northern Mang Southern Dynasty accent, "Have you seen an old monk carrying a bamboo staff?"

Xu Fengnian calmly shook his head, saying, "Reverend, I have not seen him."

The Taoist narrowed his eyes and continued to ask, "You seem to possess a superior Taoist breathing technique. May I ask which Taoist master instructed you?"

Xu Fengnian, who had already concealed his qi, feigned anger and replied, "No comment."

The ethereal middle-aged Taoist smiled, but his smile was cold. "Oh? So you are a spy from Northern Liang."

In Northern Mang, Taoism was the state religion. The Qilin Zhenren of the Moral Sect held an exalted position as the illustrious Imperial Preceptor, whose status seemed to reach the heavens. The Grand Zhenren had six accomplished disciples, also regarded by Northern Mang as enlightened immortals capable of summoning clouds and rain. Before the Empress ascended the throne in Northern Mang, Taoism was not prominent, and Buddhism flourished. However, ever since Qilin Zhenren was elevated to Imperial Preceptor, it was said that the Emperor's decrees on yellow paper would fly in, and 316 people would simultaneously be granted noble titles. Consequently, Buddhist teachings gradually faded into obscurity. Taoist temples of all sizes sprouted like mushrooms after rain in the Northern Mang imperial city, and hundreds of Taoists from the Moral Sect saw their fortunes rise dramatically. Most ascended swiftly through the ranks, becoming honored guests of high officials and nobles, all imperial-appointed yellow-and-purple dignitaries whose words could determine life or death.

Xu Fengnian feigned surprise and asked, "Are you a divine being from the Moral Sect, Reverend? This humble one often heard tales in Guse Province of the Moral Sect's Zhenren performing various miracles to aid the distressed and rescue the imperiled. Could they all be false?"

The sword-carrying Taoist sneered, "Buddhism speaks of equality for all sentient beings, but when have they ever truly treated everyone equally? This poor Taoist knows he has no hope of achieving enlightenment. I travel through the dynasties, doing only deeds that involve slaying evildoers with my sword."

Xu Fengnian appeared to be forced by the situation to lower his head, reluctantly saying, "This humble one did indeed see an old monk traveling north. He also asked me for half a waterskin of water to drink. The old monk said he was from Liangchan Temple and was going to Qilin Temple to discuss Buddhist Dharma with the Imperial Preceptor."

The apricot-eyed Taoist listened without missing a single word, gave a cold snort, and drifted away.

Xu Fengnian waited until the Taoist's figure vanished, confirming he had not doubled back or concealed himself. Only then did his full qi spontaneously arise, contracting and expanding, causing the calm, mirror-like surface of the small lake beside him to suddenly burst and ripple. Having "swum like a fish" through the bull herd these past few days, Xu Fengnian knew he had already advanced to the initial Vajra realm, and this was no longer surprising to him. Below the second rank, one's cultivation realm was judged by how much armor they could penetrate. For martial artists in this world, reaching the second rank was already a great fortune, enough to be called extraordinarily talented, scattered across the land, each ruling their own domain, and regarded by ordinary people as unattainable minor grandmasters. However, only upon truly entering the first rank did one realize that what they knew before was merely a fragment, a glimpse; only after the grand picture unfolded was the truly magnificent scenery revealed. Just like Xu Fengnian now controlling his swords, a sword might sweep past, but he wouldn't just look at where it ultimately hovered. The arc and trajectory of the flying sword's previous movement were also faintly visible. Xu Fengnian guessed that upon reaching the Zhi Xuan realm, he might be able to predict the flying sword's next moment's path. As for the profound mysteries of the "Imitating Heaven and Earth" technique in the first-rank Heavenly Phenomenon realm, Xu Fengnian had no way to foresee them. Xu Fengnian looked at the lake surface gradually returning to calm and murmured to himself, "You eat rice one bite at a time, and you take off a woman's clothes one piece at a time. The principles Wen Hua spoke of always make a lot of sense."

Having thoroughly grasped the Fish Glide Style, Xu Fengnian decided not to disturb the wild bull herd. He rested by the lake for a day and a night, then seized the opportunity to focus on individually cultivating Jinlǚ, whose sword embryo development was already far ahead.

The Grand Dao is elusive and hard to find; even sages would say, "If the Way does not prevail, I shall float on a raft on the sea." Swordsmanship follows the same principle. The Wu Family Sword Tomb takes an unconventional path, seeking the Dao through technique. Instead of pursuing the mystic realm of "breathing qi into a sword," they diligently strive for the pinnacle of sword forms and techniques. "Nurturing swords" is one such unique and beautiful side-gate. Xu Fengnian, benefiting from a misfortune outside Wudi City, acquired twelve flying swords and, like a madman, simultaneously nurtured all twelve, tireless in his efforts. This could hardly be considered wasteful; it honored the gift of swords from his uncle, the "New Sword God." As for when he could wield a sword to sever heads, Xu Fengnian would simply secretly amuse himself when he had nothing else to do, not daring to hope for overnight success. When the old abbot, Dragon Tree Saint Monk, praised his exceptional talent, Xu Fengnian neither belittled himself nor dared to be arrogant. He merely smiled it off, for with Li Chungang and White Fox-face as shining examples before him, there was simply no reason for the Prince to become conceited.

Xu Fengnian walked slowly along the lake. His internal qi, which had previously sought complexity, circulating according to the "Sword Qi Rolling Dragon Wall," now, upon entering the initial Vajra realm, returned to simplicity, beginning to seek refinement. He started circulating his qi using the Fish Glide Style. After walking for an unknown period, he suddenly heard the melancholic sound of a Qiang flute.

Looking up, he saw a group of nomads, who lived by following water and grass, setting up black and white tents and yurts of various sizes in the distance. Every time the ice and snow melted, the herdsmen of the grasslands would drive horse-drawn and ox-drawn carts to find new pastures for their livestock. From April to August, the climate was warm and the water plants abundant, making it the golden season for grazing. However, the nomadic life was far from as free and easy as outsiders imagined. The nomadic tribes of the Northern Mang grasslands had to follow the rules established by the Xiti (tribal leaders), setting up camps within designated territories. Although the grasslands were vast, the grazing lands had been almost entirely partitioned by the Xiti, both large and small. Among these Xiti, the imperial relatives were the most esteemed and powerful, occupying vast territories. Only a very few nomadic tribes, who had performed great life-saving deeds for the Northern Mang's past royal descendants, had the right to freely roam and set up camp. Generally, even during droughts, withered grass, winter snowstorms, or blizzards, tribal Xiti would not permit neighboring herdsmen to enter their territory to seek refuge or protect their livestock. Consequently, internal conflicts were constant on the grasslands, and even among the great Xiti from the same imperial lineage, large-scale battles would erupt, with blood flowing across the plains. Only after the Northern Mang Empress ascended the throne did the situation slightly improve, as she dedicated herself to suppressing the Xiti of the Yelu and Murong clans.

Following the lingering sound of the Qiang flute, Xu Fengnian saw a graceful figure playing facing the lake from behind. She puffed out her cheeks to draw breath, playing a vertical flute solo, the melody winding and melancholic. Xu Fengnian was proficient in music, though not particularly familiar with the Qiang flute. His own residence indeed had several high-quality Qiang flutes made from Min bamboo from Western Shu, and only his head maid Hongshu in Wutong Courtyard was skilled in this instrument. Xu Fengnian stopped and listened for a long time, feeling a touch of melancholy. These past few nights, in the quiet of deep night, he had indeed missed the scene of peacefully sleeping with his head pillowed on Hongshu's thighs. The elasticity of those beautiful legs... tsk, tsk. Xu Fengnian quickly swallowed, silently reciting Taoist incantations to clear his mind and calm his thoughts. Little did he know, it would have been better not to recite them; his conscious effort to achieve a state of pure thoughts only caused his internal qi to churn like a turbulent sea. Having entered the Vajra realm, the Grand Yellow Court's Golden Coffer Seal technique had become almost negligible, and for a moment, the Prince's old philandering habits resurfaced.

Xu Fengnian felt a headache coming on. He saw only two paths before him: either act like a beast, dragging women into a field, or be a fool, worse than an animal, meticulously observing etiquette in a compromising situation.

The Prince was feeling quite melancholic, both in his mind and, well, 'down there.'