Chapter 476: Rotten Grass Becomes Fireflies

A gentle breeze swept through, and dust dispersed along the thousand-zhang straight line where Wang Xianzhi had been pushed back. Some slightly higher mounds and slopes were directly broken open by the old man's back. Fortunately, the two combatants were in a deserted wilderness, so no outsiders witnessed this astonishing scene. Wang Xianzhi shook his ankles and simply kicked off his dilapidated hemp shoes. His sleeves, torn to shreds, were also ripped away, revealing bronzed, sturdy arms with muscles as hard as rock, containing the power to split mountains and cleave cities.

Martial Emperor City was built by the water, offering a view of the vast sea. Every year, at the turn of summer and autumn, towering white waves and grand tides would sweep for a thousand li, crashing against the eastern city wall. Thirty years ago, whenever a waterspout rose from the sea, Wang Xianzhi would proudly stand atop the eastern city wall, using his arms to smack the waves and ride the tide. In the past thirty years, two different individuals had successively taken his place to "fight the tide," but their grandness was never comparable to Wang Xianzhi's. Martial artists, who sought enlightenment through power, had long been scorned by followers of the Three Teachings, viewed as an inferior method contrary to the heavenly dao. It was Wang Xianzhi who, single-handedly, turned the tide and reversed public perception. Especially with the successive achievements and fame of figures like Tuoba Pusa and Xuanyuan Dapan, Wang Xianzhi, the pioneer of this martial path, shone like the midday sun, never setting.

Wang Xianzhi's expression was calm as he gazed at the distant line beneath his feet, his vital energy surging and swirling within him like an unrestrained ocean. In terms of internal energy alone, among the top ten martial artists, Cao Changqing surpassed even Deng Tai'a, the third greatest in the world, and was hot on the heels of Tuoba Pusa. Yet, he himself admitted that facing Wang Xianzhi, he still couldn't hope to match him. In terms of combat prowess alone, the Green-Shirted Sword God from sixty years ago and the old man in the sheepskin coat who never retreated a single step at Guangling River were roughly equal. However, Wang Xianzhi was significantly stronger than his own sixty-year-old self. This was why, during the East Sea battle, even when facing Li Chungang, who had returned to the peak of swordsmanship, Old Monster Wang only used ninety percent of his strength. Over the past five hundred years, six or seven individuals had been recognized as the greatest under heaven. In the most recent century, it was finally decided that Wang Xianzhi would bear this mantle. And this old man, who called himself the second greatest under heaven, was undoubtedly fiercer and more invincible than Liu Songtao, the demon from Zhuolu Mountain a century ago. Back then, when Qi Xuanzhen, though sixty years old, possessed the serene countenance of a young man, stood upon the Demon Slaying Platform overseeing the world and guarding the gateway for the Heavenly Dao, no evil spirits or monsters could wreak havoc. Similarly, with the seasoned and formidable Wang Xianzhi acting as the stabilizing force of the martial world, no martial artist could truly rise to prominence. So how could a new talent emerge in the martial arts community?

Eighty years of tides ebb and flow, the original Four Grandmasters evolved into the top ten martial artists chosen every decade. Experts came and went in waves, yet no one knew what this old monster was truly thinking.

A hearty smile curved Wang Xianzhi's lips. Finally, he had arrived.

The over-hundred-year-old man slightly bent his knees, slowly extended his left hand open forward, lowered his right shoulder, and clenched his right hand into a fist. The uninvited guest had "gifted" him, Wang Xianzhi, a full thousand zhang with two punches. Wang Xianzhi had absolutely no reason not to return the favor. The old man, clad in coarse hemp, began with an unremarkable stance. There was no imagery of swirling winds and surging clouds resonating with him, nor any mighty spectacle of flying sand and rolling stones around him. Wang Xianzhi retracted his gaze and gently exhaled, his eardrums vibrating violently. After his two punches, the person who had passed through the Celestial Gate did not press his advantage. He merely paused slightly seven hundred zhang away, waiting for Wang Xianzhi to regain his footing before beginning his third assault. He advanced step by step, not by treading on the ground, but by moving through the air, like a stone skipping across water. A few feet above the ground, he created rings of air ripples, each "step" thudding in Wang Xianzhi's chest like a mighty bell. This caused not only Wang Xianzhi's eardrums to vibrate with increasing intensity, but even his temples to alternately indent and bulge. Wang Xianzhi still showed no sign of punching. Only when the person took his final leap, crossing a hundred zhang in a single stride and heavily stomping the ground, his momentum built to its peak, and a punch came crashing down—only then, as Wang Xianzhi's eardrums and temples simultaneously became violently still, did he finally unleash a punch!

The two fists collided.

With a loud bang.

Between their fists, a "lake surface" formed laterally, created by the dispersal of immense vital energy. This thin, distorted lake surface emitted earth-shattering sounds that echoed across the wilderness. Several winter sparrows, circling low, inadvertently flew into this wall of energy and were instantly torn and pulverized beyond recognition.

The ageless skin on Wang Xianzhi's face rippled like a wind-blown lake surface, showing subtle undulations before slowly settling back to calm.

Both men's punching arms swung back in unison, then they simultaneously switched hands and threw another punch, creating what was almost another echoing winter thunderclap across the plain.

Wang Xianzhi smiled slightly and gently withdrew his hand.

The other man shook his arm, showing no further entanglement.

Neither man moved their feet, yet the distance between them grew wider and wider.

A chasm, whose width and length gradually increased, tore open in the earth.

Wang Xianzhi slowly asked, "Should I call you the Prince of Beiliang or Emperor Zhenwu?"

The young man with glowing golden eyes smiled and said, "Xu Fengnian will do."

Wang Xianzhi watched the young man's peculiar eyes gradually dim. His own vital energy, like a long rainbow, flowed out behind him. The old man said with some regret, "So it was only a moment's splendor. I wonder who set these rules; it's quite dull."

Xu Fengnian retorted sarcastically, "If you want something interesting, why don't you go fight the gods in heaven?"

Wang Xianzhi chuckled, "Even if there truly are heavenly immortals who ascended to enlightenment, they might not be worth much."

Xu Fengnian asked, "Do you wish to lose a fight in the mortal world before you'd willingly cross the Celestial Gate?"

Wang Xianzhi shook his head and declared loudly, "To be born human and die a ghost, that is the most fundamental truth. As for gods and immortals, in this old man's view, they are nothing more than cowards and thieves. Those who steal a hook are executed, those who steal a nation become nobles, and those who steal life become immortals. Therefore, this old man only believes half of what is said about ghosts and gods."

Xu Fengnian waved his hand and said, "Let's not talk about such irrelevant things. It would be easy for you to kill me now. What do you intend to do?"

Wang Xianzhi asked with a smile, "Do you still have a chance to recover your previous state?"

Xu Fengnian helplessly replied, "Difficult."

Wang Xianzhi nodded and said, "As long as there's a chance, this old man will wait for you next time in the East Sea."

Seeing the old man about to turn, Xu Fengnian quickly asked, "Did you not fight Sui Xiegou?"

Wang Xianzhi still turned and walked straight away.

Xu Fengnian swallowed a mouthful of blood and stumbled back.

At the site of the Sword Opening the Celestial Gate, Jiang Ni drew out her Daliang Longque, her expression hesitant.

Not far from her, Luoyang, dressed in white, squatted on the ground, grabbing a handful of soil and gazing into the distance.

Jiang Ni raised her hand, summoned her Zitan sword box, carefully placed the Daliang Longque inside, and slung it over her back.

Luoyang stood up, clapped her hands, turned to face the woman who had truly overthrown a nation eight hundred years ago, and sneered, "Still that naturally pitiable skin that makes men feel sympathy. But now, compared to before, you have much more heart and soul."

Jiang Ni was utterly confused by her words but felt an innate aversion to this white-clad woman. She immediately glared and retorted, "None of your business!"

Luoyang inexplicably raised her hand, made a gesture of raising a cup and drinking it all, laughed loudly, and then asked, "Are you thirsty?"

Jiang Ni did not want to bother with this madwoman. Catching sight of the approaching figure out of the corner of her eye, she bit her lip and resolutely turned away.

Xu Fengnian stopped, closing his eyes.

That year, amidst boundless golden wheat, a timid woman named Hu, chosen as a tribute and sent to the palace, walked cautiously on the small path behind him and the Empress of Great Qin, yet to drink that cup of poisoned wine.

Xu Fengnian opened his eyes, rubbed his cheeks, and continued forward, walking to Luoyang's side.

As for Liu Haoshi, whom Xu Fengnian had mistakenly thought would flee all the way back to Tai'an City, his head had already been severed by a hand chop and was now being kicked forward by a little girl.