Chapter 31: Da Huang Ting

Xu Fengnian retrieved a large handful of pebbles from the bottom of the lake, threw them onto the ground, then plunged back into the icy, bone-chilling deep pool. He repeated this process, gathering around forty pebbles in half a day. After sifting out half of them, he piled the remainder inside a cave behind the waterfall. Only after completing this strange task did he take up his blade and head towards the bamboo forest. Although called the Purple Bamboo Forest, it actually contained numerous nanmu bamboo, cizhu bamboo, and suanpan bamboo. Tens of thousands of bamboo plants formed a vast bamboo sea, where the slightest breeze would create rolling waves of rustling leaves, full of vibrant life.

Xu Fengnian enjoyed coming here to catch bamboo partridges and strumming frogs to complement his meals. There was no reason not to take advantage of the situation after enduring a sword strike. He heard from the cow-riding Taoist that the winter bamboo shoots here were the most delicious, but Xu Fengnian wondered if he would survive until then.

Wudang's foremost eccentric lived in a simple bamboo house deep within the bamboo sea. When practicing swordplay, he preferred to tread on the treetops, his sword movements flowing like waves, truly unstoppable.

As soon as Xu Fengnian entered the bamboo forest, he drew his Xiu Winter blade, constantly wary of a sudden, inexplicable strike from the sword fanatic Wang Xiaoping.

For some reason, today, even after Xu Fengnian saw the bamboo house, Wang Xiaoping had not yet drawn his sword.

He bravely continued forward, his clothes already soaked. It was no wonder the Prince felt like he was treading on thin ice; the sword fanatic was truly consumed by his obsession, caring nothing for Beiliang's 300,000 iron cavalry, nor for Grand Pillar-State Xu Xiao, nor for the four-character archway at the foot of Wudang Mountain. In his heart, there was only the sword. Therefore, each time a single sword strike was unleashed, Xu Fengnian had to gather all his focus and energy to respond with extreme caution.

Wang Xiaoping slowly emerged from the bamboo house and sat on a bamboo chair, not carrying Shen Tu, his mountain-guarding treasured sword.

Xu Fengnian sheathed Xiu Winter and walked over to sit on the chair opposite Wang Xiaoping. Without his sword, the sword fanatic was merely a handsome middle-aged man with a stiff expression and a simple Taoist robe. Wang Xiaoping became a Wudang Taoist late in life. Rumor had it that before ascending the mountain, he was a wealthy wastrel, uninterested in official careers, deeply infatuated with beauties and swords. After suffering a heartbreak, he began to view beauty as a fierce predator. In a fit of rage, he squandered all his family's wealth and ascended Wudang Mountain. The "Green Water Pavilion Sixty-Year Sword Practice Record," which others might never comprehend in a lifetime, he mastered in just three years, eventually becoming the disciple of the previous sect leader. After that, he practiced swordplay in silence, forging his own arduous path of sword mastery.

Wang Xiaoping picked up a few raw leaves of Dew-Dispelling Tea, placed them in his mouth, and chewed them carefully. His expression was blank, but his eyes sparkled with intensity.

Xu Fengnian sat for the duration of several incense sticks, observing only Wudang Mountain's foremost eccentric slowly chewing the tea leaves. Autumn tea was slightly coarser than spring and summer teas, with a milder flavor, and it was the first time he had seen anyone eat it raw. Listening to the rustling bamboo leaves, Xu Fengnian inexplicably recalled a poem about bamboo written by his second sister years ago. It seemed to liken the sound of bamboo to the cries of common folk in hardship and the soft weeping of aging beauties. At the time, it was highly praised by scholars. He suspected that if her incisive critiques were to emerge from Shangyin Academy now, those scholars would surely regret their past adulation of Xu Weixiong. Xu Fengnian looked around; there was nothing but bamboo. Feeling bored, he gripped Xiu Winter, stood up, and silently departed.

Wang Xiaoping glanced at the Prince's retreating back, seemingly contemplating whether to fashion a long sword from a bamboo stalk.

Xu Fengnian left the bamboo forest, his clothes once again soaked. This bamboo forest was truly not a place for ordinary people. The sword not being drawn was far more unsettling to Xu Fengnian than if it had been.

All the osmanthus blossoms on the mountain had fallen.

Xu Fengnian went up and down the deep pool beneath Hanging Immortal Peak countless times, and he didn't miss any other watery areas or lakes on Wudang Mountain. He eventually retrieved over four hundred pebbles, black and white, which he piled inside his thatched hut. Besides using Xiu Winter to cleave the waterfall, the Prince spent the rest of his time carving the pebbles with it. The "Green Water Pavilion Sixty-Year Sword Practice Record" contained a sword technique resembling a woman's embroidery, called "Celestial Maiden Scattering Flowers," which was exceedingly delicate and profound, possibly comparable to the profound swordsmanship of the Wu Family Sword Mound. Xu Fengnian applied this sword form to the tip of his Xiu Winter blade. Each stroke was incredibly taxing on his mind. Initially, carving two or three pebbles a day was his limit, but as he improved, he managed four or five daily. By the time it snowed on the mountain, Xu Fengnian could carve thirteen or fourteen pebbles a day with his eyes closed.

Xu Fengnian calculated with his fingers; it was almost time to leave Wudang Mountain. After all, he still had to go to Jiuhua to ring the bell, a steadfast tradition for the Beiliang King's Residence.

For some unknown reason, Xu Fengnian's view on the transfer of inner energy from Wudang's Sect Leader Wang Chonglou was becoming increasingly indifferent. He wondered if it was due to Hong Xixiang's Dao of Heaven, Wang Xiaoping's sword and bamboo, or the sworn death pact in front of Tai Xu Palace.

Hong Xixiang patiently carved 361 pieces: 181 black pieces and 180 white pieces. Nineteen lines intersecting nineteen lines result in 361 points.

Subtly, Xu Fengnian's blade skills transformed from crude to refined.

Occasionally, when he went to the bamboo forest seeking a challenge, he could force the sword fanatic Wang Xiaoping to draw his sword and cut down over a dozen purple bamboo stalks just to drive the Prince out of the forest. The most recent time, probably out of extreme annoyance with the Prince and Xiu Winter, Wang Xiaoping delivered one strike after another, forcefully carving a large clearing in the northeastern corner of the Purple Bamboo Forest.

Outside the bamboo house, Wang Chonglou sat opposite the sword fanatic, chewing raw tea leaves as well. He smiled and asked, "How is the qi flow being guided?"

Wang Xiaoping, who only spoke in front of Tai Xu Palace, nodded.

Wang Chonglou said, "Each time you draw your sword openly, you drive Xu Fengnian's blade techniques and qi flow to a single point. The 'Green Water Pavilion' works subtly, concealing sword techniques that can guide the mind to clarity. Who would have thought that Xu Fengnian, by carving chess pieces with his blade, would stumble upon the essence of the 'Sixty-Year Sword Practice Record'? Furthermore, he learned the Turtle Breath method from some unknown master, practicing his blade at the bottom of the deep pool below the peak, which coincidentally converges with our Wudang Heart Method. I originally thought I could only impart three or four tenths of my Great Yellow Court to the Prince. Now, it seems that five or six tenths might even be possible."

The sword fanatic's face showed anger, and Shen Tu, the peach wood sword lying horizontally on the bamboo table, suddenly leaped up without warning.

Wang Chonglou gently swept his hand across the tabletop, and the ancient sword Shen Tu settled back into stillness. He smiled and said, "My dear fellow, with such an impatient temperament, how can you help Wudang surpass the sword foundation accumulated by the Wu Family Sword Mound over more than a dozen generations?"

Wang Xiaoping smiled, picked up a handful of emerald green tea leaves from a bamboo basin, and chewed them vigorously.

Wang Chonglou teased, "Can you really bear to let your junior martial brother bear the burden of both martial arts and the Dao of Heaven all by himself? Xixiang is, after all, a young man not yet thirty. Aren't you afraid of exhausting him? Among us senior martial brothers, who have only grown in age but not in enlightenment, you are the closest to the Dao of Heaven. So, although you don't show him a kind face, I know that among us senior brothers, you have the highest hopes for this junior martial brother. Therefore, once the Prince leaves the mountain, put in more effort, take on the responsibility. Emulate Wu Liuding of the Wu Family Sword Mound, travel far and wide—the Eastern Sea, the Southern Sea, Beiliang, Western Barbarians—take a tour. Perhaps then your sword Dao will be perfected. Merely sitting and discussing the Dao has never been a commendable approach."

Wudang's foremost eccentric nodded.

His gaze, tinged with melancholy, fell upon his easygoing senior martial brother.

Seeing his gaze, Wang Chonglou laughed heartily, "It's merely a small Great Yellow Court; what does it amount to compared to Wudang's millennium-long grand plan?"

The sword fanatic Wang Xiaoping shook his head, likely implying that the Great Yellow Court was "not small."

Wang Chonglou disregarded his reaction, chuckling, "Xixiang secretly hid a few chess pieces. By now, the Prince probably hasn't found our junior martial brother, so he'll have to painstakingly search for the pebbles at the bottom of the pool. I need to seize this time."

The sword fanatic instinctively reached out to grasp his peach wood sword.

Wudang's Sect Leader shook his head, slowly stood up, and walked out of the Purple Bamboo Forest.

Wang Xiaoping sat blankly in front of the bamboo house, then turned and cleaved the house down with a single sword strike.