Six hundred riders had traversed more than half of Qing Snake County, but Pearl Captain Huang Xiaokuai still hadn't seen the Young Master. He was growing impatient, worrying that if anything were to happen to the Young Master, as a mere Captain from Liangzhou, he couldn't possibly atone for such a grave sin, even if he offered his head to the Great General. However, with Liangzhou Deputy General Han Laoshang's kind words of comfort, Huang Xiaokuai could only suppress his immense frustration. After all, General Han held the esteemed position of the Great General's personal attendant for over a decade and was intimately familiar with all matters concerning the Qingliang Mountain Royal Estate, which somewhat eased Huang Xiaokuai's mind. Beiliang did not lack military commanders and warriors like Dong Yueqi, who had enjoyed wealth and luxury for years and lost their true nature. However, there were also many honest and dutiful people like Huang Xiaokuai, who were deeply grateful and conscientious. The Spring and Autumn Wars had concluded merely a generation ago. Beiliang, this grand estate, was still barely holding together, despite the northern Barbarians of Beimang constantly eyeing it from beyond its walls. Many still remembered the scent of blood and gunpowder from the battlefields on themselves or their fathers.
Inside a humble tavern, where a blizzard raged outside and goose-feather snow fell silently, two men, a generation apart in age, sat facing each other. They ordered two pots of fiercely strong *shaodao* liquor, difficult to drink but warming to the stomach, and slowly sipped. There were few other patrons. A long spear without a tassel rested on their table, which somewhat curbed the tavern owner's desire to overcharge. It was well known that martial arts experts who openly carried weapons on the Beiliang Road were not to be trifled with. The owner, rubbing his hands, couldn't help but glance several times at the shabbily dressed young man. He didn't look like he came from a poor family, so why was he dressed so poorly in such bitter cold? Wasn't he afraid of freezing to death on the street? This damn temperamental weather god claimed poor souls every year at the turn of winter and spring.
Xu Fengnian, who had been miserably battered on his journey, took a sip of the strong liquor and felt a sense of comfort spread through his body. Opposite him, Xu Yanbing slowly said, "All rivers flow into the sea, and all streams return to their source. Practicing swords, sabers, or spears ultimately serves to forge that inner spirit, form, and will. To put it nicely, these terms are like outlining the main points; to put it bluntly, they are empty theories. Yet, they must be spoken."
"When I left my sect to wander the martial world, my senior brother Wang Xiu and Li Chungang, the Spring and Autumn Sword Saint, were at their peak, confronting each other. I heard many praises, among them a line from Huanglong Mountain, who alone occupied the top three ranks of Spring and Autumn: 'It's laughable how short-sighted people are, unaware of the length of the sword energy within.' This described Li Chungang's boundless and unmatched sword intent, how a single draw of his sword would unleash a magnificent force that reached the Big Dipper."
"At first, I took it merely as flowery praise. But later, when I truly progressed from Vajra to Finger Profound, I realized these words were not baseless. Whether techniques are extremely complex or return to simplicity, they must defer to the concepts of 'spirit' and 'will.' The types of spirit and will in the world are countless when broken down, like the numerous post roads beneath our feet. Among these, the path of sword intent is the most eye-catching because there are so many swordsmen on this path, creating a landscape of towering peaks, like an endless dragon vein."
"A martial artist cultivating 'will' is, in essence, identical to an official cultivating 'composure' in the political arena. When I previously mentioned sword intent to Your Highness, it wasn't simply to make you abandon your saber and practice the sword. Rather, with the profound foundation of the Old Sword God's 'Two Sleeves Green Snakes' and the Sword Mound's cultivation of flying swords, even if your cultivation level drops, it's merely your internal energy that declines. This doesn't hinder the rapid rise of your spiritual will. Especially after Your Highness gained enlightenment while carving the zither at Taosai Tower, and the Man-Cat Han Shengxuan was able to kill a Celestial Phenomenon expert with Finger Profound – that was his Finger Profound enlightenment, which, among all masters in the world, is second only to Deng Tai'a. This is why he was known as 'Invincible Han below the Terrestrial Immortals'."
"For us martial artists, battles of life and death are not refined debates among scholars; we simply do whatever it takes, by any means necessary. The master of the Xishu Thatched Hut, killed by Your Highness, is an example. On paper, he might be considered a Terrestrial Immortal, but in front of a top-tier martial artist forged in true bloodshed, he was utterly worthless, a paper tiger that crumbled with a single poke."
"It's often said that noble sons don't come from humble homes, nor do first-rate masters emerge from soft comforts. These people, even if they start with great advantages and flashy techniques, neither understand nor bother with unorthodox, irregular methods. When they face masters of the same realm, they are only destined for humiliation. If not for this, how could those born with renowned teachers and secret manuals, blessed with such advantages, fail to reach the pinnacle of the martial world?"
"What makes me, Xu Yanbing, feel most relieved about Your Highness is that journey to Beimang, where you put yourself in a death-defying situation and slowly refined your cultivation, stumbling along the way. But once gained, those achievements are genuine, unlike many junior talents from renowned martial families who possess countless secret manuals but have never penned even half a volume of their own hard work. How can one achieve greatness by merely following in others' footsteps their entire life?"
"When I, Xu Yanbing, left my sect, it was, firstly, because I was an outsider and didn't want to contend with my senior brother Wang Xiu for anything. Secondly, I didn't want to remain ignorant of the world. I wanted to see the customs and people of the outside martial world for myself, to witness the various masters, both reclusive and worldly. In recent years, drinking and chatting with my senior brother Han Laoshang, he also said that joining the martial world late was why he had been stuck in the Finger Profound realm for many years, perhaps never reaching the Celestial Phenomenon in this lifetime. Among our master's four direct disciples, the most talented wasn't me, nor Wang Xiu, but a person named Wu Jinling who never appeared in the martial world. He entered the ranks at nine, reached the second rank at twelve, and Vajra at seventeen. He was a prodigious talent, almost on par with Li Chungang, who was considered the fastest in breaking through realms at that time. However, after that, he contended with Wang Xiu for the sect leader position, suffered a devastating defeat in a life-or-death battle, lost all his drive, kept falling in cultivation, and spent his days in heavy drinking. He eventually froze to death on the street in this very weather."
Xu Fengnian smiled, "That's quite a pity. Otherwise, our Beiliang would have one more grandmaster reaching the peak."
Xu Yanbing, rarely prone to melancholy, sighed, "The martial world, the martial world... every time a stone is cast, whether it creates ripples in a lake or stirs up giant waves in a river, someone is bound to drown. One day, it might even be oneself. If Wu Jinling had been like Zhao Ningshen of Longhu Mountain's Celestial Master's Mansion, his current cultivation would be no lower than mine, perhaps even higher."
Xu Fengnian shook his head, "Some people are fine as observers of the martial world, but they are simply not cut out for it. It's like those top scholars in the imperial court; few of them actually rise to become high-ranking second-grade officials. Most are scattered by worldly pleasures within a few years, faring much worse than ordinary successful candidates of the imperial examinations."
Xu Yanbing nodded, "One cannot disbelieve in fate, especially after fortunately reaching the Celestial Phenomenon realm. Only then does one realize that the ethereal concept of 'luck' or 'destiny' is by no means an absurd notion used by ancestors to deceive people."
Xu Fengnian drained the *shaodao* liquor in his bowl and lowered his voice, saying, "When I carved the zither earlier, I gained an enlightenment. After much thought, I realized I had understood the meaning of 'coming and going'."
Xu Yanbing's interest was piqued. He put down his wine bowl and smilingly asked, "What does Your Highness mean by that?"
Xu Fengnian tucked his hands into his sleeves, his gaze drifting as he looked at the fierce blizzard outside. He slowly said, "I once had an incidental battle with Wang Xianzhi. It wasn't exactly a satisfying fight; that old monster probably only used seventy to eighty percent of his strength by the end. After that, I was alone in the wilderness, and whether it was an out-of-body spiritual journey or a deviation into madness, countless things—mountains, rivers, and all the world's affairs—gradually receded from my mind. That sensation was ineffable, as if the world was entirely within my grasp, yet I could cast it aside like a worn-out shoe, possessing more power to command the land than any earthly emperor."
"Then, with nothing external, feeling utterly bored, I retrieved those receding things one by one. But between this release and retrieval, for me, it was merely the perspective of an observer at first; I didn't grasp anything significant. It wasn't until I helped carve a zither at Taosai Tower and remembered that a zither's purpose is to sound out injustice, combined with my observation of Song Nianqing's fourteenth sword at that time, that I vaguely perceived for whom this terrestrial immortal's sword was ultimately sounding out injustice. And all the extravagant, ruinous things I did in my youth, I am now merely retrieving them one by one. But the injustice I wish to voice is not for this. Rather, it concerns the last place I was before gathering my thoughts during that spiritual journey across thousands of miles: perched above the nine heavens. In a trance, I seemed to see flood dragons churning, clouds forming and releasing rain, and many immortals sitting upright, arrayed in various positions in the celestial ranks. Regardless of whether the clouds gathered or dispersed, they consistently held fishing rods, without lines or hooks, yet sat high above all beings, casting their rods repeatedly, fishing for the faint strands of the world's destiny. Above Beiliang especially, they cast their rods particularly frequently. And the figure of the immortal singing loudly—I distinctly recognized him, yet for some reason, I couldn't recall who it was."
"I have an injustice that I cannot voice, what am I to do? So, I really want to know, if there truly are 'people above people' above us, is there a way to try to slay dragons and kill immortals? Only then would I feel satisfied!"
Even Xu Yanbing, whose cultivation realm was unfathomable, was somewhat dumbfounded by such "mad words" that were grand enough to cover the sky and sun.
Xu Fengnian suddenly rose and looked towards the east. "The Spring and Autumn Sword, suspended outside Emperor Wu City in the East Sea, has finally moved."
East of Dongfeng County was Zhegui County. A graceful young master in a black fur coat rode slowly on horseback, a long saber with a white scabbard resting horizontally on his shoulder, his hands casually draped over the blade, swaying with the horse's gentle rise and fall. A folding fan was tucked into his jade belt at his waist, his demeanor one of relaxed ease. Beside him, an agile attendant, not on horseback, sprinted wildly behind the man and his horse.
The handsome young master suddenly halted his horse, turning his head to gaze at the distant east. The sturdy attendant carefully asked, "Young Master, has the Beiliang Young Master finally lost his patience?"
The young master's slender, fair fingers, like a woman's, gently tapped the scabbard, as if softly comforting the renowned saber within. With a captivating smile, he tsked, "Not yet. But Sui Xiegou and his sword have finally had their fill; they're preparing to settle the score with Wang Xianzhi with a single sword stroke."
The attendant grinned, "Young Master, if His Highness the Young Master truly slays Fifth He, the master of Tibing Mountain, he won't be an easy opponent. You must be careful."
The young master rolled his eyes, which seemed to flirtatiously move like a woman's. "Slap your mouth!"
The well-meaning attendant immediately fell silent, struck dumb with fear. He slapped his own cheek hard, causing crimson blood to appear at the corner of his mouth on the spot.
Only then did the satisfied young master continue riding forward, muttering to himself, "Everyone says that Hong Xixiang, the previous head of Wudang, is the reincarnation of Qi Xuanzhen from the Demon-Slaying Platform. As for me, I'm loosely related to those uncles, aunts, and grandaunts who were slain by Grandmaster Qi. Even if their seniority matches mine, their age is certainly a factor."
"Hong Xixiang inexplicably ended his own life. Since that Xu fellow has such a profound connection with Wudang Mountain, whose trouble should I seek if not his? Once I deal with Xu Fengnian and stay in Beiliang for a year or two, I'll be pretty much ready to take remote command of Zhulu Mountain. Having some unknown woman ride over my head — that's a taste I don't enjoy. I've never had a preference for women dominating men. First, let her fight it out with Xuanyuan Qingfeng of Huishan and see who wins. If not, I can always personally go to Zhulu Mountain to clean house. Although I'm still no match for that woman in a one-on-one fight, with thousands of armored cavalry and a hundred imperial experts, even Wang Xianzhi could find his luck running out. This demonic cult, sooner or later, will rightfully be mine."
The attendant chuckled, "Young Master, you'd sit firmly even on the dragon throne!"
The young master released the saber's scabbard from his hands. The scabbard spun in a large circle, with him and his horse at its center, crushing the snowflakes within ten *zhang* into a sparse dust. The attendant clearly heard the young master on horseback scoff, "Yue Zhang, you're at least a Vajra realm master and even escaped from the Man-Cat. Have some backbone, won't you? Taking such a clumsy fellow like you out is truly embarrassing."
The attendant, with a fawning smile, said, "Being by Young Master's side, running errands and doing odd jobs, is the greatest honor."
The young master smirked, "It seems the 'Eight-Tenths Mature Square Inch Thunder' I learned from Gu Jiantang has broken your backbone."
The attendant nodded vigorously in agreement.
The young master tilted his head, looking at the boundless wind and snow, a helpless expression on his face. "The martial world is boring," he murmured.
[12 seconds from now] Chapter 295
[2 minutes ago] Chapter 478: Mysterious Director Chen
[3 minutes ago] Chapter 528: Infinite Future
13277 · 0 · 27
16852 · 0 · 45