Chapter 447: Two Neither Fails

A massive brocaded carp occasionally leaped from the Qingdu River and fell back into the water. The fifty or sixty martial artists who had survived the disaster remained silent for a long time, even after the white-robed man and the grey-robed monk had departed, fearing further misfortune. It was only when the young Taoist priest turned and bowed that everyone, flustered, respectfully returned the gesture. When they heard the Taoist introduce himself as Li Yufu of Wudang, the group was even more astonished. He was the new Wudang Sect Master, following Wang Chonglou and Hong Xixiang. Wang Chonglou was widely recognized as a late bloomer, who had steadily progressed in his cultivation of the Heavenly Dao until he achieved the Great Huangting. As for the immortal Hong Xixiang, his feats were legendary, even envied by gods: riding a crane to Jiangnan, sending his sword to Longhu Mountain, and traveling directly to Taian City. And Li Yufu, as the youngest Sect Master in Wudang Mountain's history—who knew if his future achievements would be as high as the Heaven Gate? Li Yufu had a refined appearance and extraordinary innate talent, yet his manner was approachable, completely unlike the arrogant demeanor of the Taoists from Longhu Mountain. While speaking, Li Yufu's face lit up with joy. He apologized, then turned to greet a middle-aged Taoist who had appeared by the Qingdu River at some unknown time. "Uncle Xiao Wang, what brings you here?"

The Sword Fanatic, Wang Xiaoping, looked towards the east and said with a solemn expression, "This mad monk's killing intent is too strong; it's very much like Liu Songtao of the Demonic Sect, as Senior Brother Song described. I just wanted to confirm. If it really is him, Wang Xianzhi is unwilling to leave the city, Deng Tai'a has already gone to sea to seek immortals, Cao Changqing is busy restoring the Western Chu, and Gu Jiantang, Chen Zhibao, and others, as loyal officials of the court, will not intervene. Li Dangxin has acted once and likely won't block him again. Shangyin Academy is two hundred and sixty li ahead, so I had to come."

Li Yufu said remorsefully, "It was my overestimation of my own abilities that caused Uncle Xiao Wang to worry."

Wang Xiaoping, who was usually distant even on the mountain, uncharacteristically smiled. He walked slowly along the riverbank, saying earnestly to the young Sect Master beside him, "It's alright. This is the responsibility of Wudang Mountain. Junior Martial Brother once said that ordinary martial artists cultivate by striving to be self-sufficient, but for us Taoists, cultivating the Dao is like carrying a burden up a mountain. That's how Junior Martial Brother could shoulder both the martial way and the Heavenly Dao. Sect Master, your innate talent is remarkable, similar to Junior Martial Brother's, and your temperament is naturally akin to his. However, you also need to deeply consider the true meaning of these words. Now Wudang Mountain's incense is flourishing, rivalling its state centuries ago. The more this is so, the less you, Sect Master, should only look up at heavenly beings. After all, Junior Martial Brother's cultivation is indeed profound and unfathomable, but how that cultivation was achieved is even more important."

Li Yufu said gently, "I've noted Uncle Xiao Wang's words."

The clear breeze on the river stirred, causing the ancient Taoist robes to flutter, making Wang Xiaoping, with his sword on his back, appear even more like a sword immortal. The Sword Fanatic stopped, his face full of smiles as he mused, "If Junior Martial Brother were to hear me nag, he would definitely flatter me profusely just so he could shamelessly dig winter bamboo shoots from my purple bamboo grove, or chop bamboo to make fishing rods. Sect Master, you really need to learn more of your Junior Martial Uncle's idleness and roguishness. Although the heavy burden of Wudang Mountain rests on your shoulders, you can do whatever feels comfortable as long as it doesn't go against your true nature. We, as your martial uncles, don't possess great abilities; we have the will but lack the power. We can only let Junior Martial Brother share more of the burden with you. Honestly, though we don't say it, we've felt guilty about it all these years."

Li Yufu's expression changed slightly. Taoist cultivation fundamentally seeks to understand the coming of autumn from a single falling leaf, and the arrival of spring from a single sprouting bud. Wang Xiaoping stated bluntly, "However, even if we lack the power, we should still bear our share of the burden; this is also following the course of nature. If that white-robed man cannot stop the mad monk, he will, in all likelihood, collide with that person. Since I promised Junior Martial Brother, I ought to go and stop him. I have been obsessed with swords my entire life, but I have never once felt the exhilarating depth of drawing my sword. The last time I wielded three swords outside Shenwu City, I gained much insight. Before that, observing Xu Fengnian cultivating his 'intent' at the bottom of the lake was even more like using stones from other mountains to polish jade. This mad monk can serve to sharpen my sword Dao. If my skill proves inferior, and I die with my sword broken, Sect Master, you need not worry. Wang Xiaoping will have died a fitting death."

Li Yufu said tremblingly, "Uncle Xiao Wang, may Yufu cast a divination?"

Wang Xiaoping laughed heartily and swept away, declaring, "Today's reading: Wang Xiaoping will have a narrow escape from death."

Li Yufu slumped to the ground by the river. While he could be indifferent to his own life and death, he could not be indifferent to the lives and deaths of others—this was his "great cage." The self-imposed confinement philosophy of Mount Lan Tuo and the withered sword of the Wu Family Sword Tomb were remarkably similar in their pursuit of self-contentment, but Wudang Mountain had never been like that. Buddhist great hammers break attachments, but being attached to breaking attachments is itself clinging to form, leading to a lower path. Taoists cultivate, seek, and inquire about the Dao. Li Yufu used to often ask himself about achieving longevity and passing through the Heaven Gate: what then? It is said that the human world is full of suffering, while immortals enjoy eternal joy. Li Yufu's face was desolate as he gazed at the yellow-tinged, turbulent river. Throughout history, countless distinguished figures have emerged—immortals, Buddhas, and sages. A true man needs a foothold, where he can care for his family, his country, or the whole world. The river wind picked up, the water lapped the bank, gently soaking the young Wudang Sect Master's Taoist robes and shoes. In the distance, among the group of onlookers from the martial arts world, the swordsman whose sword was borrowed by the mad monk Liu Songtao remained dazed for a long time. Suddenly, he burst into tears of joy, loudly shouting, wishing the whole world knew that the strange monk-demon had borrowed a sword from him. Liu Songtao's unexpected borrowing of the sword instantly elevated this man's standing in the martial arts world, with several senior figures actively approaching him and offering warm, polite greetings. Li Yufu paid no heed. A vibrant red river carp unexpectedly leaped out of the water and landed in the young Taoist's arms, truly fulfilling the couplet from a small Taoist temple on Wudang Mountain: "Fish holding heavenly secrets participate in liveliness, people free of worldly worries comprehend serenity." Li Yufu cradled the carp, looking down at the lively koi in his arms, lost in thought, then suddenly smiled. "This humble Taoist, Li Yufu, you and I have a great destiny. I hope you do not become greedy and take the bait, ending up as a diner's meal. If indeed all beings can cultivate, then let us encourage each other and cultivate the Great Dao together."

Li Yufu cupped the carp in both hands and gently tossed it back into the river. "I hope we have a chance to meet again in a few hundred years."

At the Qingdu River, a subtle mystery unfolded: a man and a carp made a centuries-long pact. Thirty li away, a collision was utterly bloody.

Luoyang, having conjured a spiritual artifact from the Great Qin Imperial Tomb, did not stop once during the thirty li journey. Instead, she floated directly to a spot thirty li beyond the Qingdu River, clearly intending to achieve success with a single strike, fully demonstrating her arrogance as the Northern Mang's foremost demonic figure. The mad monk swayed and ran wildly, and occasionally, a few pedestrians heard his initially off-key, useless song. When they looked up again, he was already miles away. Luoyang stood proudly, the long-whiskered fish-dragon leisurely circling around her. Back when the Dragon Wall turned, she was stabbed in the heart by that self-satisfied bastard and fell into the river channel. Little did he know, Luoyang had immediately returned to the tomb that hadn't seen daylight for eight hundred years. Xu Fengnian had only seen one layer of the Imperial Tomb and already found it grand and magnificent, unaware that Luoyang had skillfully opened mechanisms and descended further, revealing a hidden realm. The ground was inscribed with countless talismans, masterful works by ancient alchemists, crafted with immense effort, so aligned with the Heavenly Dao that contemporary Qi practitioners and masters would sigh in admiration. Two fish-dragons had circled a coffin for nearly a thousand years. After leaving this Great Qin Imperial Tomb beneath the Yellow River, Luoyang secretly traveled to the extreme northern ice fields, arriving just as the Great Bei Ming Fish was transforming from Kun to Peng. Tuoba Bodhisattva had waited painstakingly for decades, yet she still mostly thwarted his efforts.

Tuoba Bodhisattva once secretly conferred with the Empress, stating that when he obtained that weapon, it would be the day Tuoba's hundreds of thousands of elite cavalry would march south. Consequently, not only was Tuoba Bodhisattva enraged, but even the Empress, who had previously favored Luoyang, was infuriated. Li Mibi's "spider web" organization deployed not only one hundred "Dragonfly Catchers" and thirty "Butterfly Chasers," but also every one of the six "Rod Wielders" and "Twin Cocoons," with the exception of "Willow Branch." All were dispatched en masse. Li Mibi personally orchestrated all the details of the hunt and assassination, determined to kill Luoyang. Unfortunately, Luoyang once fought her way to the Northern Mang capital. On that occasion, she even fought all the way to the border, and midway, she made a detour specifically to catch a glimpse of Li Mibi from afar, who was heavily protected by iron cavalry and armor. Luoyang's actions far surpassed Liu Songtao's exploits in the martial world a century ago. It was just that this secret history simply remained unknown to the martial arts world in distant Liyang.

Liu Songtao did not hold his sword; the longsword, made of ordinary material, floated in the air, moving alongside him.

One day, upon entering the ranks of Earthly Sword Immortals, one might claim that anything in the world can serve as a sword. Yet with a true sword in hand—be it bamboo, wood, or iron—the aura is entirely different. Especially in contests between those of equal cultivation, having a sword versus not having one is incomparable. A sword is a spiritual object; otherwise, the core of the Wu family's sword-nurturing would not be the Ruyi Sword Embryo. For highly skilled smiths, the sword blank is merely the first layer; the sword embryo is the crucial core. Some senior once jokingly remarked that a clash between top experts is like two shrewish women, dressed in silk brocade, fighting—both intending to tear each other's clothes. But silk garments are dense and sturdy, woven from countless threads. The reason swordsmen have remained a glorious and enduring profession in the martial world for a thousand years is akin to the shrew having a pair of scissors, making tearing clothes twice as effective. If bare-handed, one would have to punch and tear at the tightly woven satin, loosening the threads bit by bit. Fu Jiang Hong Jia, one of the previous generation's Four Grandmasters, was not aligned with the three major religions, yet he possessed the physique of the Great Vajra realm and insights into the Celestial Phenomenon realm. Clad in talismanic armor, he was as if wearing the thickest armor in all the world. The ferocity of Han Diaosi, the "Human Cat," lay in his meticulous dismantling of power, allowing him not only to physically tear apart a Vajra physique but also to sever the resonance between Celestial Phenomenon realm masters and heaven and earth. The First Rank has four realms, which for martial artists outside the three major religions, represent an undeniable progressive ascent. Zhixuan is inferior to Celestial Phenomenon, and the gap is far greater than that between the Vajra and Zhixuan realms, where mutual killing is not uncommon. Han Diaosi's ability to kill a Celestial Phenomenon expert while in the Zhixuan realm made him comparable to Deng Tai'a's Zhixuan. Unfortunately, with the "Human Cat's" death outside Shenwu City, his cultivation method was not inherited, becoming a lost art. Regardless of his character, the "Human Cat's" passing was considered a great loss to the Zhixuan realm.

Top experts, especially those of the First Rank, often displayed a tendency towards self-preservation, with sparring far more common than desperate combat.

The white-robed Luoyang was clearly an exception, seemingly never cherishing her hard-won cultivation. She fought Tuoba Bodhisattva right under the Northern Mang Empress's nose, Deng Tai'a outside Dunhuang City, and the former "Fourth Under Heaven" Hong Jingyan at the Qijianleyu. She even fought Tuoba Bodhisattva again on the back of the giant Bei Ming fish in the extreme northern ice fields. Without exception, her methods forced her opponents into life-or-death struggles.

This time was no exception.

The two collided.

Luoyang allowed Liu Songtao's sword to pierce her palm, then struck his forehead with her palm.

Both retreated several yards.

Luoyang's arm, which had blocked the sword, hung limp, bleeding profusely.

Liu Songtao bled from all seven orifices and was clearly suffering.

The longsword shattered, and the spiritual energy of the fish-dragon beside Luoyang also dissipated.

Luoyang glanced at the no longer frenzied middle-aged monk, then swept backward, saying calmly, "I'll take another of your sword strikes a hundred li from here."

Liu Songtao laughed, then inhaled sharply, and the blood receded back into his orifices, like a sword returning to its sheath.

He strode forward, stepping over the scattered sword fragments, which then coalesced into a complete sword. This time, he held the sword in his hand.

A city lay a hundred li away. The white-robed Luoyang stood beneath its western wall.

The man and his sword arrived.

A surge of sword qi, thick as a mountain peak.

By the time Luoyang stood still, she was already outside the eastern wall.

The city was forcefully torn in half by the sword qi and Luoyang. The city walls were cleaved, and dust rose along this east-west line. A cosmetics shop owner stared, dazed, at his disorderly shop split in two. Someone enjoying a refined gathering with friends in their private backyard, boiling wine by a stove and admiring the lake view, suddenly saw the lake water churn, the courtyard wall crack, and the pavilion belatedly collapse with a rumble. Everyone's sable hats were blown off by the strong wind, and they exchanged bewildered glances. A young master, accompanied by servants, swaggering on the street in fine clothes and on a spirited horse, fell with his horse into the chasm that had suddenly appeared. The horse and rider wailed, and the servants thought they were seeing ghosts in broad daylight, cowering and not daring to rescue them from the chasm.

Outside the western wall, Liu Songtao laughed loudly, rushing along the cracked wall. "Destroying a city with one sword isn't enough; let's destroy a country with another!"

Luoyang stroked the body of a fish-dragon that had appeared out of nowhere, smiling faintly.

She then re-entered the city.

"Get out!"

With a kick, she sent Liu Songtao, who had entered the city with her, back outside the western wall.

Luoyang stood still in the town center, her white robes fluttering.

Outside the western wall, Liu Songtao's body was bent like a bow. He slowly straightened up and stood firm, his eyes somewhat murky again, like a jar of aged white wine that, when shaken vigorously, causes the sediment at the bottom to resurface.

Liu Songtao shook his head and quickly re-entered the city. He arrived at a north-south street in the city that had been cut in half by the previous attack. Near the bottomless chasm, an ordinary-looking woman sat by the roadside, still shaken. She looked around and found a small hairpin that had fallen from her hair. She was about to bend down to pick it up. She was from a humble family, and the hairpin was a beloved item she had saved for several months to buy with her meager silver. If she lost it, she would be heartbroken for a long time. She suddenly saw a hand pick up the hairpin for her. She looked up and saw a gentle-faced man in monk's robes. His kasaya was tattered, so poor he couldn't even afford shoes. Her timid and shy nature made her blush instantly, flustered and at a loss. The serene-faced monk smiled, handed her the hairpin, and murmured, "Back then, she pinned her hairpin between my temples, teasing me, 'Your little hairpin on my temple looks so charming.'"

The monk, who appeared rather eccentric to the woman, stood up and said blankly, "Alas, you are not her, and I am no longer myself."

Liu Songtao, his eyes hazy, let out a long breath, looking down to find no sword in his hand.

That year, he had met her too late. He took her unclothed body into his arms, wrapped her with his own clothes, and then carried her back to Zhulu.

Liu Songtao tore off a sleeve, and with a flick of his wrist, a "garment-sword" appeared in his hand.

He smiled at the woman, "Let her see how this sword strike is."

The woman, who had never experienced such a heart-stopping scene, was terrified. She nodded blankly, on the verge of tears.

Liu Songtao, tears streaming down his face, cried and laughed hoarsely, "That year, the three of us roamed the martial world together. Zhao Huangchao failed you but was true to the empire; you failed Liu Songtao. Liu Songtao failed Zhulu Mountain, but he was true to you alone."