Chapter 550: Respect to You, Wen Hua, Wen Busheng Who Doesn't Hold a Wooden Sword

You were once kicked out of your home by your sister-in-law, declaring you'd become a great hero. Yet, you didn't even have money for a proper sword. You spent your days with a wooden sword, dreaming of encountering a master who would teach you a few peerless martial arts moves, so you could become the world's greatest swordsman and return home in glory. And if you could bring back a somewhat pretty wife, like a runny-yolk egg on a bowl of plain noodles, that would be even better—the icing on the cake.

You were incredibly ambitious and proud, yet your behavior was indistinguishable from a rogue. You visited brothels to see girls, sang vulgar songs with Xiao Nian, and even, at one point, considered using his poor, overworked horse to show off and impress women. More often than not, you didn't resemble a swordsman at all. In fact, before you met Huang Longshi, you weren't a swordsman; you were just a scoundrel wandering the jianghu with a wooden sword.

But you were different from those who bullied the weak. The jianghu depicted in *Sword Snow Stride* was full of such people, lost in its depths, blinded by desire and profit. They committed all kinds of evil, and even minor gangs began to dominate regions. You were different. Your eyes remained clear. You possessed your own inherent integrity, a backbone that could never be worn down, bent, cut, or smashed. Li Jian Sheng, who once split the heavens with a single sword, claimed he knew he would be the greatest in the world the moment he first held a sword. Did you, too, feel as if you held an entire jianghu in your hands the first time you gripped a sword?

In your eyes, Xiao Nian was simply Xiao Nian, not Xu Fengnian, not the Prince of Beiliang, but just the downtrodden person who once roamed the jianghu with you, his horse, and the horse's caretaker, Old Huang. Because you saw him as a brother, he remained a brother for life, regardless of status or time. This was likely why Xu Fengnian valued you. Otherwise, how could a prince, who grew up in Beiliang and saw through the world's harsh realities, share drinks and camaraderie with you?

In your eyes, the jianghu was simply the jianghu: the dashing freedom of riding swiftly without dismounting, the heroic spirit of a lone swordsman roaming the world, the brutal fights on the edge of a blade. You disdained complicity, making you proud. You disdained betrayal, making you strong. It was Huang Longshi who made you, even though his ultimate goal was to use your hand to kill Xu Fengnian. But Huang Longshi underestimated you.

Everyone in the world underestimated you. They thought you would always remain a minor figure, eventually abandoning your purity in this murky world. Huang Longshi gave you the woman you loved, taught you two powerful sword techniques, and offered you the sword and the jianghu you had dreamed of since childhood, enabling you to become the swordsman you had always yearned to be. Upon first entering the jianghu, you were undefeated against Wu Liuding's sword attendant in two moves. You only knew two sword techniques, but if those two could become one, everyone else in the jianghu, except for the top five, would likely have to step aside.

So the man who gave you the woman you loved, taught you the strongest sword techniques, and showed you the peak of the world, instructed you to kill your best brother. He thought you would hesitate, you would struggle, but no one expected you to be so resolute. You crippled your martial arts, severed a hand and a foot, left the woman you loved, and broke the wooden sword you cherished most.

Did you know that after you broke your sword, Xu Fengnian threw away the Spring Autumn sword he intended to give you and cried until he was bent over on the city wall?

And so, Wen Hua entered the jianghu with a sword and left it by breaking his sword.

Thus, Wen Hua declared he would never practice swordsmanship again, and he kept that vow for life.

So you returned to your hometown, becoming a lowly inn waiter, your spirit humbled to the dust. A swordsman from a minor gang forced you to take his treasured sword, then kicked you away as you reached for it, telling you that you were unworthy of holding a sword. At that moment, you sat numbly on the ground, your expression desolate. Was it the pain of the kick, or a dull ache in your heart? Having seen the highest peaks, what did you feel as you plummeted directly from the clouds to the dust? You no longer quarreled with your elder brother and sister-in-law. Did your brother's embrace and his simple words, "It's good that you're back," surpass a million journeys through the jianghu, a million rides over cold mountains, and countless encounters with land immortals?

When you entered the jianghu, you were nothing more than an ambitious rogue. When you left the jianghu, that was when you truly became Wen Hua.

Will you sit on the steps of the inn, thinking of the peach blossoms in the capital during early spring, years ago? Will you remember the appearance and figure of Li Baishi? Will you recall that year when someone carried a wooden sword? Will you remember the off-key tunes you hummed together?

When the innkeeper mercifully offered you a small pot of spirits, you raised it in a toast to Xu Fengnian, no matter how far away he might be.

You probably still remember Xu Fengnian meeting you again in the pavilion years ago, and how his maid, Qing Niao, addressed you as "Young Master" while pouring your wine. At the time, you felt unworthy of such respect, and so you always remembered it, cherishing the memory. Yet, you truly lived up to that title of "Young Master."

To you, Wen Hua: By not holding a wooden sword and not entering the jianghu, you remained undefeated.