Chapter 422: Heavenly Sword Immortals Three Million, Facing My Beiliang Blade

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He Xinliang

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As the group of white-robed men and women, appearing like immortals, aggressively approached the Lakeside Villa, a handsome young man stood in the Crouching Tiger Mountain Pavilion. He wore a renowned sword at his waist, crafted from the Dragon Rock Censer, inscribed with the ancient characters "Rootless Heavenly Water." He happened to witness a scene of white butterflies touching the water's surface on the lake. His fists clenched, and a sinister aura emanated from him, his anger tinged with dread. People commonly spoke of ancient immortals, ethereal and detached, who would feed on mist and dew while living in seclusion, free from worldly strife. Yet, whenever they appeared, their breath would conjure clouds and rain, their shouts, thunder. The young man, standing alone in the pavilion with a commanding view, was the young master of Youyan Villa. With his exceptionally broad perspective, he naturally wouldn't mistake the white-robed figures for true immortals; they were merely Qi practitioners, split into Northern and Southern factions during the Spring and Autumn period. The Northern faction, led by the Imperial Astronomy Bureau in Tai'an City, and those north of Guangling River, had all become lackeys of the court, diligently observing qi and phenomena for the Zhao imperial family, a practice long criticized. The Southern faction was relatively scattered and diminished, revering the White Vase Guanyin Sect of the South Sea. They resided on isolated overseas islands, conducting themselves like reclusive immortals.

These dozen-plus Qi practitioners, led by a Qi Grandmaster, were undoubtedly extraordinary individuals who had emerged from the high immortal islands. The reason for their grand expedition, leaving the South Sea to re-enter the martial world, was to acquire the Talismanic Swords secretly forged by the Dragon Rock Censer. This was a tyrannical deal where the South Sea initiated the aggression, and the Villa had to endure it. Years ago, a barefoot woman from the South Sea, dressed in white, entered the martial world and was immediately hailed as a celestial being. Countless heroes and prodigies prostrated themselves before her. Had she not been defeated and made to cry by Li Chungang, the Sword God of that generation, perhaps even more captivating tales of her immortal deeds would have been passed down to this day. The old master of Youyan Villa was one of her admirers back then. The current master, Zhang Dongling, inherited his father's wish and hired a ship to sea to visit immortals. He encountered a once-in-a-century tornado and was saved by a female Qi practitioner from the Guanyin Sect. Through a twist of fate, they fell in love and eloped back to the Villa. Twenty-five years ago, a Qi Grandmaster from the Guanyin Sect arrived quietly, demanding the woman take her own life. In his deep love, Zhang Dongling went so far as to seal the family's ancestral sword-forging furnace, agreeing to forge eighty-one Talismanic Swords exclusively for the Guanyin Sect in exchange for his wife's life. He promised that if he failed to forge the swords in the future, he and his wife would die together. Forging swords was already difficult, and superior Talismanic Swords required by Qi practitioners were even more challenging. Twenty-five years later, only thirty-six Talismanic Swords had been forged, and Youyan Villa was on the verge of collapse, almost bankrupt. How could the young master, Zhang Chunlin, not deeply detest these South Sea Qi practitioners who had come to collect their debt and demand lives? Was he truly expected to watch his parents die together?

A couple, nearing fifty but showing no signs of age, slowly ascended the mountain. The man had a rugged appearance, with a leopard's head and round eyes, exuding the fierce look of a brave, unrefined man. Yet, his expression was serene. He entered the pavilion hand in hand with his wife, occasionally glancing at her, revealing the tender affection of a tough man. The woman bore a striking resemblance, both in appearance and spirit, to her son Zhang Chunlin. Elegantly dressed, dignified, and beautiful, she faced the impending doom without fear of death, yet was filled with silent remorse. As they all entered the pavilion, Zhang Chunlin clenched his teeth, his eyes red, and defiantly turned his head away. The woman walked over and adjusted her son's luxurious Liaodong fox fur, saying softly, "It's my fault, son. Not only did I hold back your father, but I also brought ruin upon the Villa's ancestral heritage."

Zhang Dongling, the master of Youyan Villa, widened his eyes slightly and said, "Why are you saying such things? 'Held back,' 'ruin'—you're talking nonsense. For Zhang Dongling to find such a good wife like you, it's already a blessing from our ancestors. If I had even a hint of complaint, I'd be struck by lightning."

Although Zhang Chunlin was unfailingly polite and meticulous in his interactions with others, he didn't need to wear a gentle facade with his parents. With teary eyes, he looked at his father, Zhang Dongling, and burst out, "It's all your fault! Your swordsmanship is mediocre; all your life, you've only known how to forge swords, and you can't even protect Mother!"

Zhang Dongling was speechless. He didn't feel the need to pretend to be a heroic figure capable of moving mountains in front of his son; he merely grunted in acknowledgement.

The woman's face hardened slightly, and she reprimanded sternly, "Chunlin, you mustn't speak to your father like that!"

Zhang Chunlin looked down at his hands, sobbing, "Actually, it's all my fault. I couldn't protect you both. I'm a coward. My hands are still trembling, I can't hold my sword steadily, and I don't even dare to draw it against those people."

Zhang Dongling smiled gently, his eyes filled with kindness. He patted his son's head and said, "With your father here, if the sky falls, I should be the first to bear it. Chunlin, we martial artists, especially those who practice swordsmanship, can't all be top-tier experts, nor can we hope to become sword immortals. It's enough not to do anything shameful; then you won't fear ghosts knocking at your door. Heh, these Qi practitioners roaming overseas are considered 'immortals' in the martial world. If 'immortals' come knocking for debt, your mother and I won't have died in vain. Although you've been of age for some years, you don't need to blame yourself too much. And don't dwell on revenge. These past twenty-odd years, your mother and I have lived a gainful life. What's more, we have you; we've gained so much! If you live your life trapped in a corner after we're gone, your mother and I won't rest easy below. Your father is a rough man. All his life, he's only known how to forge iron and swords. He hasn't taught you much about how to conduct yourself or spoken any wise words. But there's one thing you must remember: there are too many things in this world that one wishes to do but is powerless to achieve. You mustn't let yourself be stifled to death; that would truly be a wasted life's journey."

Zhang Chunlin, shedding tears for the first time in his life, looked up, his eyes blurred, "Father, I'm truly unwilling to accept this."

Zhang Dongling, who rarely put on a stern fatherly air with his son, calmly stated, "Even if you're unwilling, you must live on."

The woman gently wiped her son's tears with her sleeve. Turning her head, she looked at the cloaked figure sitting alone in a small boat, fishing on the lake. Wishing to distract her son and husband from their deep sorrow, she changed the subject, frowning as she asked, "Who is that stranger?"

Zhang Dongling grinned, "A group of guests came to stay at the Villa because the heavy snow blocked the roads. Zhang Han said they're not ordinary people. With his discerning eye, he couldn't even tell their skill level, so they must be extraordinary. Normally, I would definitely try to befriend them, and then you'd no doubt give me a lecture. Ah, I'm just like that—a stubborn old dog who can't change his ways. You've suffered these past years because of me. Isn't there a saying, 'Even the cleverest housewife cannot cook without rice'? It's talking about you, my dear wife."

The woman forced a smile, shook her head gently, and then held both her husband's and son's hands.

Zhang Dongling exhaled, "Let's go down the mountain, you and I. If we accidentally allow the guests to get into a conflict with the Guanyin Sect, our consciences won't rest easy. Chunlin, don't show yourself. Your mother and I will handle this last welcoming of guests; from now on, you'll be the master of the house."

Zhang Chunlin gripped his ancient sword tightly with one hand, his eyes resolute as he said, "I'll go down the mountain with you!"

Just as Zhang Dongling was in a difficult position, his peripheral vision caught sight of movement on the lake. He let out a surprised "Eh?" then widened his eyes, his face filled with shock.

The white-robed Qi practitioners moved lightly over the lake, like dragonflies skimming the water. The swirling snow naturally drifted a few feet away from their bodies. The leading immortal approached within thirty zhang of Youyan Villa. Just before a young female Qi practitioner at the rear leaped over the small boat, she cast a glance at the unmoving man. He sat cross-legged, cloaked in a thick straw rain cape, a bamboo hat on his head. Two unusual strands of white hair, surprising for his apparent age, gently fell from his temples. Catching sight of the fisherman's face, she saw he was very young. By worldly standards, his appearance was exceptionally striking. So much so that even after she, without shoes or socks, leaped past the small boat, she still looked back, wondering if he was simply too stunned to react, or perhaps so absorbed in fishing that he genuinely saw nothing.

Xu Fengnian, sitting solitary on the cold river, had been holding his breath, deliberately ignoring the white-robed Qi practitioners who glided across the lake. Even when they "stepped" over him, he showed no fluctuation in his qi, and even intentionally concealed the greedy and restless yin creatures. Firstly, Xu Fengnian was merely staying temporarily at Youyan Villa and didn't wish to cause trouble. If these "immortals" in the eyes of the common folk were esteemed guests the Villa needed to welcome, Xu Fengnian didn't think it would be appropriate for the gluttonous Xu Ying to go on a killing spree, as that would not align with guest etiquette. Secondly, Xu Fengnian's animosity was only directed at the Imperial Astronomy Bureau in the capital. He had no grievances with the Southern Qi practitioners. Their encounter was fate, so he simply regarded it as observing immortals and enjoying the scenery.

However, when Xu Fengnian sensed a murderous intent, inconsistent with their supposed status, emanating from this group of white-robed "immortals," he no longer merely hid his capabilities. He removed his bamboo hat, and the small boat swiftly retreated like an arrow, leaving a beautiful ripple on the lake's surface.

In an instant, the small boat stopped abruptly twenty zhang from the lake's edge, precisely blocking the landing spot of the leading Qi Grandmaster.

The white-robed old woman, with her withered and stern face, furrowed her brow. Her body came to an abrupt halt, settling onto the lake's surface along with the heavy snow beside her. Behind her, over a dozen relatively younger "immortals" also stopped in succession.

These Qi practitioners stood motionless on the lake's surface, like white butterflies resting on a mirror.

Someone in the lakeside courtyard of Youyan Villa was the first to witness this mystical sight. After a few exclamations of surprise, people soon began to emerge from the courtyard gates, stopping to watch from a distance. The crowd quickly swelled, comprising both household retainers and servants, as well as distant friends entrusted by the Master.

Xu Fengnian calmly said, "If you are guests of Youyan, I welcome you warmly. But if you're here to cause trouble, then we'll have to sit down and have a long chat, and discuss things thoroughly. Oh, by the way, since you can stand on the lake pretending to be immortals, I presume your cultivation isn't bad. Your bottoms won't get cold sitting down, will they?"

The withered old woman's brow furrowed even more deeply, and most of the surrounding Qi practitioners also showed displeasure on their faces. Only the barefoot white-robed woman at the very end let out a soft laugh.

A white-robed "immortal" woman, about thirty years old, quietly turned her head and gave a helpless glare. The younger woman quickly straightened her face, but alas, her long, autumn-water eyes, still sparkling with amusement, betrayed her true feelings.

All sixteen carried one or several talismanic swords of varying lengths. Some were peach wood swords inherited from immortals mentioned in ancient texts, while others were ancient bronze swords thousands of years old. Even the "new" swords were measured in terms of sixty-year cycles.

It is said that the cultivation methods of Qi practitioners are unique. They specifically collect heavenly lightning from a hundred zhang above auspicious lands, using secret techniques to forge thunder pearls. A single throw of these pearls unleashes immense power, truly like thunder striking from a clear sky. Alternatively, they might capture the first ray of dawn illuminating the East Sea into a talismanic mirror. A single flash from it would turn all dark and malevolent creatures to ash. There are even miraculous tales of them gathering unowned souls to journey to Fengdu, entering the underworld with living bodies to accumulate yin virtue. In short, the mystical techniques of skilled Qi practitioners are endless, often appearing unbelievable to ordinary people, who then sincerely revere them as deities and perceive them as immortals who act on behalf of heaven. In reality, Qi practitioners originated from ancient alchemists and bear some resemblance to Daoist alchemists, except that the path of Qi practitioners is even narrower and more far-reaching.

A young male Qi practitioner said coldly, "Move aside!"

Xu Fengnian, always the stubborn rogue who yielded to neither coaxing nor threats, smiled and said, "Ask me first." Then he gently patted the Northern Liang Saber at his waist, "And then ask my saber."

Although the old woman was one of the few top Qi Grandmasters in the world, she didn't simply act arrogantly. She calmly stated, "We are going to Youyan Villa simply to retrieve the swords as per our agreement. Young man, it's good that you're willing to draw your saber to help those in need, but you must also be reasonable."

Xu Fengnian stood up and brushed the snow from the shoulders of his straw rain cape. "A senior I know once acquired a good sword from Youyan Villa. You can take the swords, just take them. But if you're going to bully people with your power, my words remain the same: ask me, then ask my saber."

The young male Qi practitioner, who had spoken coldly earlier, no longer concealed his anger.

When a common man rages, blood splatters five paces, and heads roll to the ground. When an emperor rages, millions lie dead, and blood flows for a thousand li. To ordinary mortals, how could an immortal's rage be any less profound or casual than an emperor's? Everyone knows "immortals are good," meaning they understand the exalted status of immortals, which is in no way inferior to that of emperors or generals.

This Qi practitioner, no longer concealing his true feelings, erupted in anger, causing strong winds and swirling snow to rage around him. He laughed, enraged, and declared loudly, "Audacious brat! Do you wish to sit on the ground and debate the Dao with me? Very well, I shall grant you a seat!" The white-robed immortal indeed sat down. Like a mountain suddenly filling a river or sea. Except for the leading old woman, all the other Qi practitioners raised their toes a few feet off the lake's surface. The lake surface churned, and the aura was terrifying. What utterly mortified this man, however, was that while the lake surface around him violently shook, the small boat remained perfectly still, as if it were on solid ground by the shore!

Xu Fengnian did not bother to mock the self-defeating Qi practitioner with cutting remarks. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and looked up at the heavy snowfall, murmuring to himself, "An old senior, who eats swords, once said something that deeply resonates with me: 'Three million sword immortals in heaven, yet all must lower their brows when they meet me.' How fitting."

Xu Fengnian withdrew his gaze, and after removing his straw rain cape, he smiled mischievously and said, "Come, come. Ask me first, and only then will you be qualified to ask my Northern Liang Saber at my waist."

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