Chapter 568: I Watch the Sea from the Land

**Beacon Fire Incident with the Feudal Lords**

Three riders faced two hundred, not to mention the two thousand elite cavalry from Dufengkou Garrison a li behind the two hundred, and a group of Northern qi practitioners lurking in the shadows, following like wraiths. In the eyes of Zhong Gucheng, who was near the carriage, this was an act of heroic sacrifice; to put it more bluntly, it was like hitting a stone with an egg.

Zhong Gucheng had always been an unassuming, reclusive master in the martial arts world. Despite being a first-rank Finger Profound realm master, he did not have a great reputation in the martial arts community, nor even a widely known nickname. Acquaintances simply called him "Old Zhong," and officials respectfully addressed him as "Lord Zhong." However, he cared little for outward prestige; his true influence was substantial. Wearing a seven-tailed golden carp and bronze-yellow fish pouch, Zhong Gucheng was a top guest of honor at the Ministry of Punishments in the capital. He was also an intimate friend of Qi Jiajie, the foremost swordsman of Taian City. He had resolved many major and perplexing cases, even becoming familiar to the Zhao imperial family.

For this mission, Zhong Gucheng was the overt person in charge; all matters, big or small, depended on his nod or shake of the head. Zhong Gucheng's aura-reading skill was not weak. He gazed at the three riders at the end of the post road without any contempt but with a sense of caution. However, being cautious didn't mean Zhong Gucheng was feeling apprehensive. In his view, throughout the entire Liyang martial arts world, as long as the opponents were not Old Monster Wang from Wudi City, Peach Blossom Sword God Deng Tai'a, or Grand Official Cao Changqing, anyone else—even one of the top ten masters on the new martial arts ranking—could not stop their advance southward. This was not arrogance but immense confidence, a composure granted to Zhong Gucheng by Taian City and the Zhao imperial court behind him.

However, Zhong Gucheng never imagined the astonishing backgrounds of the three riders he was about to confront. Because these three were indeed not any of the Liyang masters among the top ten in the martial arts ranking: not Old Monster Wang from the Eastern Sea, not Deng Tai'a who sought immortals, not Cao Changqing busy with restoring Western Chu, not General Gu Jiantang, the foremost blade user in the world, and certainly not the deceased Eunuch Han Diao, the Human Cat. But near Zhulu Mountain, close to Shangyin Academy, three "guests" from Beimang had arrived last year, and coincidentally, two of them were among the top ten martial artists: White-Clad Luoyang and Broken Spear Deng Mao. If Zhong Gucheng had known this terrifying truth earlier, he probably wouldn't have been so disdainful. In martial arts battles, when had it ever been heard of among the top ten masters that anyone would team up to fight and kill opponents? Yet, today, he had stumbled upon just such a situation.

Seeing the two hundred riders on the road charging straightforwardly and presumptuously, the short man, Yelü Dongchuang—a member of the Beimang imperial family and a rising military noble—widened his eyes, his face slightly dull and melancholic. He slowly turned to the white-clad woman walking slowly beside him and asked, "What's going on? These guys just don't take the three of us seriously. Is Zhulu Mountain's reputation not well-known or respected in Liyang? Luoyang, you tricked me! What did you tell me back then? You said the demonic sect of Zhulu Mountain was a common target, and as long as I went up the mountain, there would be endless masters to kill. But there was nothing! I tolerated that, since Zhulu Mountain is hard to find, but why is it still so ineffective in the martial arts world? Can't even scare anyone! Luoyang, you're dishonest. After this killing spree, I'm not playing with you in Liyang anymore. There's a war about to break out in Gusei and Longyao prefectures, and I need to go to the Southern Dynasty to earn military merits. Otherwise, that fatty Dong will surely throw me ten thousand eight thousand miles away."

Luoyang ignored the short man, who was grumbling like a resentful woman, and calmly stated, "Deng Mao, the two thousand cavalry behind us are yours to delay. Kill as many or as few as you wish. As for the qi practitioners in hiding, Yelü Dongchuang, you take care of them. These on the post road, you two don't need to get involved."

Deng Mao nodded without objection. Yelü Dongchuang immediately retorted, agitated, "Luoyang, you're bullying me because I'm not among the top ten martial artists, aren't you? You look down on me, don't you? I'm still young; we'll see who's stronger in ten years..."

Luoyang calmly turned her head and looked at this favored son of the Beimang steppes. Yelü Dongchuang shrunk his neck and immediately fell silent. Back then, on the grasslands, he had led troops under the empress's military order to intercept and kill the white-clad devil, only to almost have his head taken by her amidst his own army. Ever since, he had developed a deep psychological shadow. In the entire world, he only feared three women: Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress, whom he could privately call "Aunt," Murong Longshui, the "dead fat girl" who had always loved to bully him since childhood, and Luoyang, who had never once smiled at him. Yelü Dongchuang hesitated, but still lacked the courage to challenge Luoyang. He obediently turned his horse and galloped off the post road to deal with those lurking qi practitioners.

Deng Mao glanced at the carriage and asked softly, "Both of us noticed the unusual phenomenon just now. Is it really nothing to worry about?"

Luoyang's lips curved into a slight smile, and she spoke words that left Deng Mao puzzled, "No matter. The worst outcome would simply be a reunion with an old acquaintance. Besides, this person might not truly interfere. I suspect if Wang Xianzhi doesn't come, even I might not be able to fully awaken him."

Deng Mao was never a man who liked to get to the bottom of things. Seeing her nonchalant, he didn't bother to worry unnecessarily. Moreover, regarding the white-clad demoness, whose ranking in the martial arts world surpassed his own, Deng Mao didn't view her as merely a woman. Which man had the right to condescendingly show affection or pity to a demoness who could twice cut through Beimang, a woman who could almost stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the top three in the martial arts rankings? Deng Mao took another look at the carriage, then decisively veered off the post road to intercept the two thousand cavalry, preventing them from causing trouble.

Luoyang watched the two depart, feeling a hidden regret. If she had been at the peak of her martial arts, what if Gao Shuluo from the carriage was added? At that time, she had returned the eight hundred years of cultivation painstakingly accumulated by that person. Although he returned it to her after his battle with Wang Xianzhi, the back-and-forth had invisibly depleted twenty percent of it. At this moment, she might not even have a great chance against Deng Tai'a, who had transitioned from cultivating strength to cultivating the mind, let alone Wang Xianzhi and Tuoba Pusa, with whom she already had a gap. Luoyang self-mocked slightly, "Still a woman, after all." Eight hundred years later, even women could become emperors, but the martial arts world still couldn't tolerate a woman being the foremost master. Eight hundred years ago and eight hundred years later, it remained the same.

After seeing the two riders leave the post road, Zhong Gucheng not only didn't relax but, for the first time, felt a suffocating sense of facing a formidable enemy. The formation of the two hundred riders steadily advanced. With only a hundred paces separating them, even the masters with the poorest eyesight, those with three or four bronze-yellow fish pouches, recognized that the white-clad rider standing alone was actually a woman with soft features but a heroic spirit. Wasn't it only Huishan Ziyi who was unrivaled in the Liyang martial arts world for a time? Who was this divine being?

The six riders at the very front spurred their horses, ready to claim the first victory for the imperial court. Among the six were long-renowned swordsmen, blade experts, and famous pugilists. The six riders charged forward, simultaneously covering each other with practiced coordination—this was the level masters should reach once they attained a certain realm. The blade expert was the first to attack, using a family secret technique called "throwing blade art," a rare martial art derived from "flying sword art." A blade ripped through the air, heading straight for the white-clad woman's head.

Luoyang did not look at the arcing, spinning blade falling through the air. With a glance, she took in Zhong Gucheng and all the other masters with six or seven golden carp fish pouches. She continued to move slowly, one person on one horse, merely extending a finger and gently tapping six times in the air. The six leading riders, along with that imperial hawk who believed his throwing blade art had reached the pinnacle of blade techniques, continued to gallop forward on their horses, but their heads seemed to be stopped by an invisible wall. Not only did their heads abruptly halt, but their bodies also swayed backward, then fell heavily onto the post road, dying instantly.

Finally, when the "belated" flying blade arrived, Luoyang, having already tapped six times, brought her two fingers together and lightly brushed the blade. The throwing blade spun once in front of her, then returned with an immeasurably faster momentum than it had come, appearing to vanish instantly from everyone's sight. Subsequently, several Jinwu Guard riders were dismembered on their horses, shocking everyone into realizing that this was not some flashy, empty display, but a genuine, bloody killing move. Furthermore, the six riderless warhorses continued to gallop straight ahead. When they were twenty paces from the white-clad woman, the ground of the post road vibrated violently, and the six horses' hooves lifted into the air, shattering into six crimson mists. The white-clad woman casually and calmly rode past the six puddles of blood. The rolling blade was finally intercepted by a master with a six-fish bronze-yellow pouch. Luoyang was expressionless; she ran her two fingers forward from her shoulder, as if drawing a three-foot sword, and indeed, she manifested a three-foot long cyan-purple sword qi. It flashed by, giving the minor grandmaster no time to dodge. A hole exploded in his forehead, and he died with his eyes wide open as he fell from his horse.

Luoyang abruptly halted her horse, assuming an arrogant, leisurely posture. This chilled Zhong Gucheng, who had already been caught off guard. How could this seemingly very young woman be so arrogant and rude? She didn't seem to mind their counter-measures at all? Zhong Gucheng disregarded appearances and exchanged glances with two other masters holding seven-carp pouches. Without a word, they formed a plan. They clearly saw that this woman was at least a top master who had deeply cultivated the Finger Profound realm for many years. Zhong Gucheng, already in the Finger Profound realm himself, even vaguely sensed that this woman wanted him to witness what Finger Profound truly meant!

Even with Zhong Gucheng's detached status, he had no means of accessing the secrets within Shenwu City. Naturally, he wouldn't know that in that ruined city, a woman had allowed the grandmaster swordsman Song Nianqing, whose fourteen swords roamed the martial world, to exhaust almost all fourteen new moves before "kindly" teaching the old Sword Sect Master of Dongyue Sword Pond "how to use a sword." However, even if Zhong Gucheng knew this terrifying secret, he wouldn't have time for fear. The two hundred riders unleashed a combat power commensurate with their strength. Sixteen divine archers among the Jinwu Guards began drawing their bows and firing volleys. Some hidden weapon masters also abandoned any reserved skills, "pouring out everything" in a rush. Several qi-controlling masters, regardless of effectiveness, even exhausted their vital energy to control their weapons and attack the woman from a distance. Such a grand spectacle of a large group of masters attacking collectively was rare in the martial arts world.

In Shenwu City, she had once placed her left hand horizontally, palm facing up, then slowly pressed her right hand down, seemingly merging heaven and earth into a single sword-line between them, thereby forcing out Song Nianqing's final Earth Immortal sword strike before his death. Today, she was much more casual. Still bringing her two fingers together, she casually waved them left and right in front of her, as if heaven and earth were at her command, swaying left and right as well. The arrows and hidden weapons, mid-flight, began to veer erratically and fell to the ground all around her horse.

Zhong Gucheng's face darkened. "What a Heavenly Phenomenon realm master, daring to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with heaven and earth!" he thought. "But what does that matter? After all, you are just one person on this post road. Vast as heaven and earth are, they are not your dogs. Human power has its limits. Even if one's sincerity and righteousness in a single life were proclaimed to the universe, eliciting a temporary resonance with heaven and earth, how could one presumptuously believe they could truly remain on par with heaven and earth for long?" Zhong Gucheng raised his hand and waved it fiercely, signaling the two hundred riders to continue volleys as much as possible, aiming to exhaust the woman's internal cultivation. If she was willing to be a target, then let her show off.

The aged eunuch Zhao Siku lifted the curtain, rubbed his eyes, and strained to see the fighting on the post road. This eunuch was a martial arts layman, so he merely found the spectacle visually appealing. The old man, whose withered arms were engraved with two hidden talismans, felt an inexplicable tightening in his heart. He quickly turned his head, staring intently at the half-dead person. Detecting no anomaly, he pursed his lips and the old eunuch turned back to gaze at the post road.

The woman also seemed a bit impatient, preparing to unleash a powerful attack. Zhao Siku smiled; the more chaotic, the better. Only chaos would give Beiliang a chance; otherwise, Zhao Siku truly didn't believe Beiliang could snatch food from the tiger's mouth here.

At this moment, everyone's heart trembled—everyone, even Luoyang, the fourth greatest martial artist in the world, was no exception. She looked at the carriage with a half-smile, her eyes narrowed.

More than two hundred riders dazedly turned their heads, looking at the middle-aged man who bent down, lifted the curtain, and stretched. From his body, golden, shimmering talismans slowly fell, dissipating into thin air. There must have been sixteen or seventeen seals? The man looked at Luoyang and said hoarsely, "Four hundred years later, we meet again."

Luoyang was somewhat dazed and lost in thought.

That year, Gao Shuluo had a spirited battle with a young Daoist. Afterwards, it wasn't that Gao Shuluo went into seclusion for winter, as rumored, but rather the two had a profound conversation by the Eastern Sea. She happened to be observing the sea, and they didn't deliberately avoid her eavesdropping.

The young Daoist, who roamed the world with a sword but had never drawn it, made a bet with Gao Shuluo: that Gao Shuluo couldn't unravel a certain talisman. At that time, Gao Shuluo was immensely arrogant, looking down on all, believing himself as tall as heaven.

In the world, every creature has its counter. Even if one seems mighty and invincible, there is always another, opposing entity that quietly comes into being. Where poisonous snakes abound, there are always herbs nearby for people to gather to cure the poison; this is the principle.

If Wang Xianzhi was Li Chungang's nemesis, then that young Daoist was precisely Gao Shuluo's nemesis.

After the talisman, the Daoist recovered, gave Luoyang an apologetic smile, and quickly dissipated into the world. He had only been in the world for eighteen years, seen her once, and would never be seen again.

Only Luoyang knew that the Daoist was not the reincarnation of Patriarch Lü, but just *that person*.

Gao Shuluo sat cross-legged, looking up towards the distant northwest, saying, "If you don't come soon, I'm truly going to start a massacre."

Everyone felt a gentle spring breeze.

A flickering purple-gold figure arrived in the blink of an eye, appearing like the legendary immortal, whose spirit had left its body and wandered.

Then the two hundred riders recoiled in fright. That blurred figure and that face—who else could it be but Xu Fengnian of Beiliang?

This "Xu Fengnian" made a gesture as if to lead the white-clad woman's horse, then smiled and looked at Gao Shuluo, saying, "My ninth out-of-body experience. I was originally sitting on the peak of Kunlun, observing the Eastern Sea."