Chapter 29: Understand or Not

That night, Jiang Ni, who was no longer the peaceful princess of Western Chu, descended the mountain alone. Xu Fengnian did not angrily destroy her rebellious cursive script. Instead, he lay on the stone steps, drank most of a pot of rice wine, finished all the beef, and only left the Grand Void Palace when dawn broke. That day, Xu Fengnian diligently practiced his saber skills, understanding that a late bloomer always has to put in extra effort. At dawn, a young sweeping Taoist boy saw the scribbled characters on the plaza and was startled, thinking an immortal had descended and written a divine script. He dropped his broom and ran back into the hall to call his master, who then called his master, until finally, the six most senior patriarchs and grand-uncles of Wudang were all gathered.

Among them was Wang Chonglou, the sect leader, the only one in the Taoist world to have reached the Grand Yellow Court Pass in nearly sixty years.

There was also Chen Yao, who oversaw Wudang Mountain’s moral precepts and discipline. He was strict yet not inflexible, over ninety years old but still robust. He particularly enjoyed pacing in circles while admonishing the most talented junior disciple on the mountain, always starting to feel sympathetic before finishing his scolding, which invariably resulted in much talk but little action.

Song Zhiming, who, despite being 140 years old (two full lifespans of seventy years), held a surprisingly low seniority. He had emerged from the final trial seven or eight times, a feat unmatched by all but perhaps one other in the world. He was also responsible for refining external elixirs, and nearly a hundred types of Wudang’s wondrous elixirs and miraculous medicines originated from his hands.

Yu Xingrui had just returned from a journey to the East Sea, dressed sloppily. His profound inner energy was second only to Wang Chonglou’s, and he had just turned sixty. Along the way, he had taken on a disciple with exceptional innate talent, a young boy not yet twenty. Wudang seniority often had nothing to do with age, and this was the reason.

Then there was Wang Xiaoping, the Sword Obsessed, who was more silent than a mute. His mind was like a still well, undisturbed. It was as if in his entire life, he had no other attachments besides his sword.

And finally, Hong Xiang, who was perhaps the most unconventional person on Wudang Mountain, singularly pursuing the elusive Heavenly Dao.

"Excellent calligraphy," Chen Yao praised sincerely.

"Magnificent," Yu Xingrui nodded in agreement.

"It’s even better as prose. Excluding the last seven characters, this text is truly grand, filled with sorrow and indignation, yet unyielding—I’ve never seen anything like it in my life." Song Zhiming, who was twice the age of an ordinary person, sighed heavily. He bent over the beginning of the text, examining it carefully, twisting his long, vine-like white eyebrow with one hand. Then he immediately exclaimed, "Upon closer inspection, those seemingly superfluous seven characters at the end are the crucial point. What a resolute 'Vow to Kill!'"

"Good calligraphy, even more vast and unrestrained than contemporary cursive scripts, like a dragon leaping at heaven's gate and a tiger crouching on a mountain ridge—it’s rare. Moreover, it’s excellent prose; it's hard to imagine it coming from a woman barely twenty years old," Wang Chonglou concluded with certainty.

"Shh, shh, shh, keep your voices down," the young grand-uncle said nervously.

"What are you afraid of? The young lord is practicing his saber down below," Wang Chonglou teased.

"Anyway, I'll be the only one to suffer when the time comes," Hong Xiang grumbled.

"Young people get along better with other young people. We are all getting old, you see," Wang Chonglou said with a chuckle.

"Senior Brother, are you throwing me into the fire pit just because I’m young?!" Hong Xiang cried out in despair.

"Junior Brother, you must have the awareness that if I don't go to hell, who will? The Heavenly Dao is nothing more than that," Wang Chonglou said, brushing it off. In front of his junior brothers, he showed none of the detached, saintly demeanor of a Taoist immortal.

"Nonsense! That's a Buddhist saying!" Hong Xiang retorted.

"All rivers flow east to the sea; the words may differ, but the principle is the same," Yu Xingrui chimed in, laughing.

"Did you hear that? Your Senior Brother Yu makes a good point," Wang Chonglou patted his junior brother's shoulder, then exchanged a knowing smile with Yu Xingrui. They were all getting on in years, with no hope of ascending to immortality. Their greatest joy was to tease their junior brother a few times before they kicked the bucket and lay in their coffins. Every word counted.

Wang Chonglou said, "Junior Brother, your handwriting is the best here. While the weather is clear, you should make a copy and carefully preserve it on the top floor of the Scripture Repository."

Hong Xiang rolled his eyes. "No way. If the young lord finds out, I'll be beaten within an inch of my life."

Wang Chonglou chuckled, "At worst, just don't copy the last seven characters. What's there to be afraid of?"

Hong Xiang mumbled, "Anyway, it won't be Senior Brother getting beaten."

Wang Xiaoping, who hadn't spoken in sixteen years, stood still and focused for a long time before finally saying hoarsely, "There's sword intent in the characters."

The four older senior brothers exchanged glances, then shared a knowing smile.

Hong Xiang, who had never heard his Sixth Senior Brother speak since he came up the mountain, was first surprised, then said in despair, "I'll write it!"

Three days later, thunder roared.

Xu Fengnian came back to the Grand Void Palace holding an oiled paper umbrella. After a light rain, only a patch of black ink remained on the ground. The rain intensified, pattering loudly on the umbrella. He saw a slender figure carrying a peach wood sword on his back approach the plaza and stand in another corner.

Xu Fengnian wondered if the white-haired old master had left the Northern Liang Prince's Mansion; otherwise, he could have called him to fight this Sword Obsessed. After a desperate battle with the Eastern Yue Saber Master, watching masters exchange blows felt different; it was no longer just for entertainment. Dismissing this tempting thought, Xu Fengnian turned and descended the mountain.

Outside the thatched hut, Qingniao, a first-rank maidservant from the Wutong Courtyard, stood in the thunder and rain, holding an oiled paper umbrella painted with a blue phoenix, quietly waiting for the young lord.

Qingniao brought a letter that the Grand Pillar of the State had personally entrusted to her.

Xu Fengnian entered the room, piled high with secret manuals, with hardly any space to step. The bed planks, tables, and chairs were already covered, leaving only a clean spot in the corner—presumably Jiang Ni’s sleeping place. Xu Fengnian sat on a pile of books, tore a few pages from a copy of *Tiger Cage Saber* to wipe his face, then tore a few more to dry the rain from his hands before opening the letter. In it, Xu Xiao had written in his own hand that he had already sent people to the capital to gather information. He also didn't hide that he was preparing to "invite a Bodhisattva" within the palace to suppress the impudent Eunuch Sun, ensuring that Sun would lose power in exactly two years. What truly astonished Xu Fengnian was that Xu Xiao finally revealed the mystery of why he wanted him to come to Wudang: it was for Wang Chonglou to transfer his profound cultivation to him, as if grafting a flower onto a tree!

This was an act defying heaven, wasn't it?

Wasn't he afraid of being struck by lightning?

Xu Fengnian destroyed the secret letter, his heart surging with emotions. He looked up at Qingniao, who stood in the doorway, and asked, "Can internal energy also be transferred to others? If so, wouldn't masters from major sects simply pass on their cultivation like a seat before they die, making each generation stronger than the last?"

Qingniao replied calmly, "The effect of a pill or a bowl of rice varies from person to person when ingested. Internal energy transfer, at most, can only transfer half. There was once a demonic cult leader in the martial world with profound inner energy who loved to forcibly transfer his energy to others. He would watch as their bodies, unable to bear the burden, finally exploded, leaving only their intact heads."

Xu Fengnian said, astonished, "There are such lunatics who harm others without benefiting themselves?"

Qingniao nodded.

Xu Fengnian asked, "Are you saying this is Xu Xiao's idea, or my master's?"

Qingniao replied honestly, "I dare not say."

Xu Fengnian said resignedly, "Then it's Xu Xiao."

Qingniao looked around the room and actually smiled.

Xu Fengnian said softly, "Let's wait for the rain to lessen before going down the mountain."

Qingniao hummed in affirmation.

The heavy rain eventually subsided. Qingniao still had to descend the mountain, and Xu Fengnian saw her off at the Xuanwu Dangxing Archway before turning back.

Returning to the thatched hut, Xu Fengnian looked at the muddy vegetable patch and chuckled. "Why bother putting your hatred into writing? If your second sister found out, wouldn't you be asking for a beating? You're a girl who never learns her lesson."

Afterward, the young lord continued to immerse himself in saber practice. However, he also began to boldly seek trouble in the purple bamboo forest on Grand Lotus Peak. One had to know that this was Patriarch Wang Xiaoping's forbidden area. Few of the senior brothers of the Sword Obsessed on Wudang Mountain dared to disturb him, except for the young grand-uncle who would go there to graze his ox or find suitable slender purple bamboo for fishing rods. The first time Xu Fengnian went to the purple bamboo forest, a single sword stroke that cut down dozens of purple bamboos forced him out. The second time, foolishly, he endured a sword strike and ended up lying on a wooden bed for half a month, causing Wudang to use up more valuable top-grade elixirs. When Xu Fengnian became capable of diagonally splitting a waterfall with a single saber strike, he visited the purple bamboo forest again. After one sword strike, he was forced to retreat, still not seeing the Sword Obsessed's face, but at least he didn't immediately collapse. He could stagger back to his thatched hut, though he almost ate elixirs like meals.

Wudang, as part of the alchemy lineage, differed slightly from Dragon Tiger Mountain. It not only emphasized the internal alchemy practice of "Dragon-Tiger embryo breathing," expelling the old and absorbing the new, but also accepted "refining minerals," which Dragon Tiger Mountain condemned as unorthodox external alchemy. On Qingyun Peak, there were several colossal cauldrons. The alchemist Taoists were the most willing to endure hardship on the mountain, consuming nearly ten thousand catties of charcoal annually, on a grand scale. Last month, Xu Fengnian had observed a cauldron-opening ceremony on Qingyun Peak, which occupied a secluded corner. This peak, it was said, was most impervious to evil influences, second only to the main Lotus Peak. An auspicious day had to be chosen, an altar built, and talismans burned. Alchemist Taoists would kneel at the foot of the peak, holding medicine cauldrons, facing south, and praying to the Great Dao Celestial Venerable before ascending the mountain. This finally made the young lord understand that cultivating the Dao was difficult, and alchemy even harder. However, this didn't stop Xu Fengnian from indiscriminately consuming elixirs, like an ox chewing a peony. This greatly infuriated Hong Xiang, who had painstakingly convinced his Third Senior Brother Song Zhiming to allow the young lord to watch the alchemy. His efforts were wasted on an unappreciative blind man; what could he do?

Senior Brother said young people were easy to communicate with—that statement truly made no sense!

The osmanthus flowers on the mountain began to bloom.

Aside from contending with the waterfall beneath Suspended Immortal Peak, Xu Fengnian also went to the purple bamboo forest every few days to contend with Wang Xiaoping, finally managing to withstand a single sword strike without falling.

Though they were all "one sword," falling or not falling signified whether Xu Fengnian's saber practice had reached a high level of proficiency.

Perhaps realizing the purple bamboo in the forest had sharply decreased, the Sword Obsessed's subsequent sword strikes became even more unfathomable.

Few could have predicted that the infamous young lord would actually stay on Wudang Mountain for half a year. Some junior Taoists, who had some contact with worldly affairs, speculated whether the young lord had hidden a dozen beautiful maids on the mountain, or if he feasted on extravagant meals every day. Consequently, they saw the young grand-uncle less often. Thus, rumors began to spread among the junior Taoists that the young lord was actually a reincarnation of a demonic fiend, and that the young grand-uncle, a reincarnation of Emperor Zhenwu, was needed to suppress him. These rumors escalated, becoming stranger and more varied.

Hong Xiang, riding his ox, turned a deaf ear to these rumors and didn't actively explain anything. Only when junior Taoists, younger than himself, asked about such matters, would he smile and reply, "The young lord is diligently reading classics like *Cloud-Gathered Seven Scrolls* and *Daoist Principles Compendium*."

If anyone else had said this, no one would have believed it. But coming from the grand-uncle's mouth, it still left people half-believing, half-doubting.

Occasionally, a Taoist of not insignificant seniority and experience would ask indignantly, "Senior Uncle Hong, why does that fellow Xu, instead of being a proper young lord, come to Wudang Mountain to lord it over us? Who is he practicing his saber skills for?!"

The young senior uncle would then chuckle and say, "Perhaps he’s practicing the saber for himself to see. The young lord comes from great wealth and nobility, so his hobbies will naturally differ from ordinary people's. Uh, he is indeed a bit unconventional."

Someone would always scoff, "He must be secretly learning our Wudang's unique martial arts, practicing his saber, so he can go down the mountain and commit evil deeds!"

At this point, the young senior uncle would fall silent.

Today, he let his green ox go, walking alone through the mountain forest towards the Suspended Immortal Coffin. He saw a specific type of autumn cicada, unique to Wudang Mountain, dart past him.

Without seeming to quicken his pace, Hong Xiang walked a few steps like a drunkard and caught up with the cicada, gently pinching it just before it flew into a spiderweb.

The young grand-uncle lowered his head and bent to pass under the spiderweb, then released the cicada from his fingers.

In truth, this cicada, after molting from larva to adult, would live for at most three months.

Yet Hong Xiang saved it, for no particular reason. He simply did a small, natural thing.

This grand-uncle, who had been on the mountain for over twenty years and likely spent his time doing such small things, had always been considered by everyone as the best candidate to comprehend the Heavenly Dao. Yet, it seemed he himself had no idea what the Heavenly Dao was, nor did he strive to deeply ponder it. He simply went about his daily routines—eating, drinking, relieving himself, grazing his ox, reading, and enjoying the scenery—living a plain and ordinary life.

Hong Xiang slowly walked outside the thatched hut and saw the young lord picking a cucumber from the vegetable garden and munching on it.

Hong Xiang tried to sneak a cucumber when the young lord wasn't looking, but Xu Fengnian swatted his hand away with his Xiudong saber sheath.

Squatting nearby, Hong Xiang watched and asked curiously, "Young lord, do you truly not miss the fair maidens, clear singing voices, mountain delicacies, and brocade quilts of the prince's mansion?"

Xu Fengnian chuckled, "If you lived like this for over a decade every day, you'd miss them too."

Hong Xiang shook his head and said, "This humble Taoist would only miss this mountain."

Xu Fengnian said with contempt, "You're just timid, that's two different things."

Hong Xiang pouted his lips; this was the young grand-uncle's biggest protest.

Xu Fengnian scoffed, "I dare to come up the mountain to practice my saber, but you don't dare to go down? Are there swarms of ghouls and monsters or demons everywhere down the mountain? Even if there were, wouldn't that be precisely why you Taoists are needed to slay demons and devils?"

Hong Xiang continued to shake his head vigorously.

Xu Fengnian stopped wasting his breath and asked, "I'm going to the purple bamboo forest. Are you coming?"

Hong Xiang shook his head even more like a rattle-drum and waved his hand. "No, Senior Brother Wang doesn't even let me graze my ox there anymore."

Xu Fengnian munched on his cucumber, carrying his Xiudong saber as he left the small vegetable patch, mumbling, "What's so great about being the foremost under heaven? It's better to be the only one under heaven. Everyone fights to be the foremost, but only one person can be. As for the latter, everyone has hope of attaining the Dao. That is the true Heavenly Dao."

Hong Xiang squatted on the ground, holding his chin in his hands, lost in thought. "I sort of get it, sort of don't."

Xu Fengnian, walking with his back to Hong Xiang, snorted coldly, "Don't you dare steal any more cucumbers. I've counted them. If I find one missing when I come back, I'll beat you until all three of your legs are bleeding. Do you understand that?"

Hong Xiang forced a smile and replied, "I understand perfectly!"