Chapter 592: First Stone, Purple-Clad Blocks the River

Bishan County was a place of mixed emotions. Jubilant were the astute opportunists who had swiftly pledged allegiance to County Magistrate Feng Guan and the other officials. Those who were a step slower now fretted, realizing that to become favored guests of these influential figures would no longer be a matter of one or two hundred taels of silver. Magistrate Feng Guan was currently basking in success; his merits in suppressing bandits had led to Governor Hong Shandong of Yanzi Prefecture personally staying at the Bishan County Yamen to commend him. The powerful Zhu clan in the county had also led the way by donating three thousand taels of silver, and overnight, nearly ten thousand taels of gleaming cash had been raised. Naturally, the Zhu clan's eldest grandson was also able to smoothly enter the county yamen's judicial office.

However, Zhu Zhengli did not feel much joy. Although his friend, Master of Records Xu, had survived the ordeal, he clearly had no standing left in Bishan County. It was rumored that Feng Guan had subtly mentioned to Governor Hong Shandong that this young Master of Records had acted suspiciously on Golden Rooster Mountain. If not for Wang Shiwei, the chief constable of Qing'an Prefecture, vouching for him with great effort, Xu Qi's hard-won position as Master of Records, bought at great personal cost, would likely have been lost. Zhu Zhengli specially visited Xu Qi’s private residence, bringing two jars of Jiannan Chun wine, intending to offer some words of comfort. But he became exasperated when Xu Qi, that rascal, could still laugh, and even gifted him a cage of red-bellied pheasants in return, saying that if he didn't want them, they would certainly be presentable gifts for the young aristocrats of Yanzi Prefecture.

Zhu Zhengli had no mind to entertain the rare birds. He was only worried that Xu Qi would soon be forced to pack up and leave Bishan County, and then who would he drink with? Zhu Zhengli had no choice but to reveal his family's accumulated goodwill in Yanzi Prefecture, offering to help Xu Qi put in a good word. He dared not promise a promotion, but at least to stabilize his position as Master of Records. Unexpectedly, the fellow did not appreciate the gesture and instead lectured him at length, saying that the Zhu clan had not produced any young talents capable of shouldering major responsibilities for many years, and that the favors accumulated by their elders in officialdom were diminished with each use. He urged Zhu Zhengli not to waste them on him, Xu Qi, as it would be hard to recover the cost. That day, Zhu Zhengli drank himself into a stupor and was carried home by Xu Qi. The next day, when he went to find him again, the quiet woman, whom everyone in the county yamen referred to as "Madam Xu," was still there. However, she said Xu Qi had taken leave to clear his mind at Wudang Mountain, and there was no definite date for his return to duty.

Upon hearing this infuriating news, Zhu Zhengli squatted on the steps, sulking. This fellow Xu was simply too disloyal! At the first sign of trouble, he abandoned his wife and friends and ran off to hide? Zhu Zhengli slumped his head, lost in thought, occasionally sighing. The quiet woman, whom he didn't know whether to call sister-in-law or wife, was far more composed than a grown man like him. She was scooping water from a large vat and sprinkling it on a small vegetable patch by the corner of the wall.

Coming back to his senses, Zhu Zhengli quickly stood up, preparing to take his leave. Although he had only been there for a short time, and a righteous person fears no slander, there were simply too many gossiping women and dirty-minded men in the neighborhood. Rumors could easily be twisted, and if Xu Qi returned to hear such nonsense, their friendship might even be ruined. Zhu Zhengli stepped off the steps, bid farewell, and the woman did not try to keep him. She placed the gourd ladle aside, scattered a handful of rice for the caged chickens and ducks, and walked back into the empty house. Sitting on a long bench, she looked out at the courtyard, where the wall corner was tinged with green, and listened to the noisy crowing of chickens. She felt a bit annoyed, not by his hurried comings and goings or his treating this place like a temporary stop, but she remembered how, when he was Master of Records, he always managed to smoothly herd the chickens and ducks back into their coop every evening. When he was not there, doing this chore left her exhausted, and she was not always successful. Just yesterday, a hen that had just started laying eggs had gone missing, which made Pei Nanwei very resentful, so she simply hadn't opened the coop today.

Pei Nanwei glanced at the sky, remembered his clothes still drying on the bamboo pole, and walked to the backyard, gathering them one by one onto her arm.

Aside from his initial ethereal journey to the summit of Lesser Lotus Peak to practice his blade, Xu Fengnian had not physically ascended Wudang Mountain since. He passed the "Wudang Prosperity" stone archway and ascended the steps alone, carrying no escorts and notifying no local officials. Thus, there was no welcoming fanfare on the mountain. However, it so happened that the old Daoist Song Zhiming often waited for people at the mountain gate archway every few days. Today, the old man had just slowly descended from Greater Lotus Peak and coincidentally ran into Xu Fengnian. Song Zhiming, the oldest person on the mountain, smiled and turned, without uttering any formal apologies for not welcoming him sooner. He simply accompanied the young Prince of Northern Liang up the mountain.

The old man could not help but sigh with a sense of melancholy. The mountain was quiet. Senior Brother Wang and Junior Brother were both gone. His nephew Li Yufu, the current sect leader, had not yet returned to the mountain, and Junior Brother Wang had also been traveling down the mountain for some time. As a result, only old men whose hair was whiter than anyone else's were left to guard the mountain. How boring it must be! There were indeed some promising young disciples on the mountain with excellent temperaments, but they were not as free-spirited as Junior Brother and Sect Leader Li Yufu. They were also thin-skinned and could not endure the teasing of these old fellows. Some jokes, especially those from Chen Yao, who managed Wudang's discipline, were exceedingly sharp, leaving most of the younger generation trembling with trepidation. Song Zhiming found it both amusing and exasperating. Chen Yao, that old rascal, would earnestly ask them if they had met any young and beautiful female pilgrims, not because he feared they would delay their cultivation, nor was it some nonsensical grand principle about corrupting their Dao heart. In truth, the old man was simply bored and enjoyed teasing the younger disciples. Song Zhiming was no longer obsessed with alchemy and rarely fiddled with his cauldrons. He often wandered the mountain. If he didn't find Sect Leader Li Yufu at the mountain gate, he would return to the mountain to look at the Purple Bamboo Grove, the Tortoise-borne Stele, and the Heavenly Elephant Pool. The young Daoist priests in the various temples on the mountain inevitably felt that Grandmaster Song was truly old.

Xu Fengnian and Song Zhiming slowly walked along the winding mountain path towards Lesser Lotus Peak. Xu Fengnian said softly, "Last time at Spring God Lake, I presumptuously summoned the True Martial Emperor's avatar early, causing a lot of trouble for Wudang with your 81-day Grand Offering. I am a pragmatic person, but fortunately, I don't like insincere pleasantries. If there's anything Wudang needs Northern Liang to do, just say the word."

Song Zhiming waved his hand, smiling, "This isn't a business transaction, so there's no talk of returns on investment. Patriarch Lü once left a precept: the 'Dang' (当) in Wudang (武当) signifies duty, and one such duty is to not flinch from what is righteous."

Xu Fengnian said nothing more.

Song Zhiming continued, "Your Royal Highness guards the Northwest Gate, a 'single man holding the pass against ten thousand,' which also contains the character 'Dang.' No wonder you have such a connection with Wudang Mountain."

Xu Fengnian stopped, looking at the clouds drifting over Lotus Peak, and sighed. "To be honest, Wang Xianzhi's journey to Northern Liang caught me off guard. I could only come to Wudang Mountain, this blessed land, like a rat. There are only so many positions for 'Land Immortals.' Traditionally, when one ascends, another takes their place. I'm different from Wang Xianzhi; I forced my way in, and happened to take his spot. That's why he's coming to find trouble. After all, he hasn't attained the Great Dao as a true Daoist master. No matter how high his martial arts realm or how profound his cultivation, he cannot pass through the Heavenly Gate without entering it."

Song Zhiming retorted, "If the blessings of a blessed land are hoarded by the people on the mountain, generation after generation, how are they different from misers down below?"

Song Zhiming quickly laughed freely, "One should accumulate blessings when it's time, and disperse luck when it's time. Only then does the water not stagnate. Otherwise, even the deepest pool is just a stagnant, foul-smelling puddle, only attracting disgust. Of course, it's not because you, Xu Fengnian, are the Great General's son that you can just take whatever you want. Rather, you, the Prince of Northern Liang, are the one holding the pass against millions of Northern Mang archers. What you take and what you give are roughly equivalent. This old Daoist and several of my martial brothers have often spoken of you over the years, especially after you became the sixth greatest under heaven. We hoped even more that you could truly bring down that old fellow Wang. Putting everything else aside, if word gets out that the Prince of Northern Liang once trained his sword and practiced martial arts on this mountain, won't there be more pilgrims?"

Xu Fengnian said softly, "During my first ethereal journey, I saw a child in a certain place in Jiangnan. I later informed Sect Leader Li Yufu. I wonder how that child is now."

Song Zhiming laughed, "This old Daoist knows his time is short. I've waited for half a year, but I probably won't wait much longer. But it doesn't matter if I don't. As long as those two, whether an uncle and nephew or master and disciple, can come up the mountain, that's all that matters."

Xu Fengnian nodded.

Song Zhiming suddenly said, "This old Daoist has a request."

As Xu Fengnian was about to agree, Song Zhiming suddenly lashed out, delivering a heavy punch to his shoulder. Xu Fengnian smiled, unfazed. The aged Daoist huffed, "No matter what, my Senior Brother, the Sect Leader, died because of you, and my Junior Brother released his body because of your eldest sister. This old Daoist has harbored resentment in his heart, thinking he'd take it to his grave. But you came to me, and even if I can't defeat you, Xu Fengnian..."

Xu Fengnian smiled faintly, "Daoist Master Song, if you're still not appeased, how about another punch?"

Song Zhiming turned away with a straight face, saying, "Forget it. What if I provoke you, the revered commander of three hundred thousand iron cavalry? Little Wudang Mountain can't afford to offend you."

Xu Fengnian merely smiled and walked alone towards the summit of Lesser Lotus Peak.

Song Zhiming, walking down the mountain with his back to Xu Fengnian, secretly grimaced and muttered to himself, *Damn it, he's truly the sixth greatest under heaven. He didn't even retaliate, yet my whole arm aches fiercely. I should have gone easier.*

Xu Fengnian reached the Tortoise-borne Stele at the summit and exhaled. What came next was more than just a long ethereal journey; it was a trip to the "Spring and Autumn" realm. He wondered if he would witness the decisive Battle of West Leibei, the ten-year siege of Xiangfan City, or Li Chungang's Sword Qi Rolling Dragon Wall in the Western Shu Imperial Palace. Anything was possible. *Anyway, it's a last-minute scramble; I'll see what I can. If Wang Xianzhi travels too quickly along that East-West line, despite my current true realm being higher than the sixth greatest under heaven, it will still be a dead end.* Huang Sanjia deliberately ranked him in this awkward middle position in the martial arts rankings, intending for him to die later. First, he was to compensate for the lost *qi* realm and save Miss Hehe as promised. After that, whether Xu Fengnian lived or died would be none of Huang Sanjia's business. In this world, Huang Sanjia was certainly not the fairest in business, but he was definitely the most unwilling to suffer a loss of all the old scoundrels.

Xu Fengnian placed a hand on the tortoise's back, closed his eyes, and thought, "Eight hundred years ago, there was Great Qin. Four hundred years ago, the Great Feng Dynasty. Great Feng, compared to Great Qin, lacked only one person. Is it waiting for me?"

In Spring God Lake, spanning eight hundred *li*, a colossal turtle-like creature slowly surfaced.

In Tai'an City, the golden statue of the True Martial Emperor holding the Divine Tutu Talisman Sword also began to tremble.

Xu Fengnian raised a finger and brushed it across his brow.

The current situation was more than just urgent; it was critical.

Given this, extraordinary measures had to be taken in extraordinary times.

Xu Fengnian let out a burp, exhaling a puff of purple-gold mist.

Like Yuan Qingshan, the Imperial Advisor of Northern Mang, he would pull out "another Xu Fengnian" and venture together into the Spring and Autumn.

Wang Xianzhi's departure from Wudi City quickly caused a stir in the martial arts world. However, by the time this uproar rippled through the *jianghu*, a snow-haired old man in linen clothes and shoes had already traversed most of the former Western Chu territory. He arrived by boat at the widest section of the Guangling River. The burly old man stood at the bow of the ferry. Though eye-catching, countless martial artists, big and small, traveled the *jianghu*. This old man was just a bit taller and sturdier, and had no weapons with him, so he wasn't considered particularly shocking. Some opportunistic martial artists tried to approach him and strike up a conversation, knowing it's always good to build connections when traveling. But after several attempts at conversation yielded no response, they grumbled to themselves about the old man's arrogant demeanor and how he might get sunstroke and die if he wasn't careful.

The linen-clad old man stood quietly at the bow, gazing at the distant river surface. His aura suddenly solidified. The vast river wind, which had been whipping the sails, seemed to pause. The large two-story ferry, for no apparent reason, spun like a single duckweed on the river. Everyone was stunned and bewildered, looking around. Rumors had always circulated that there were flood dragons in the Guangling River, one of which was slain by Patriarch Lü's flying sword, and later, the green-clad Li Chungang also performed a similar feat by crossing the river on his sword.

A solitary boat lay still about a hundred *zhang* ahead. A woman stood proudly on it, in a purple dress, fluttering in the wind. The woman in purple blocked the river.

With the release of the new martial arts rankings, the entire *jianghu* was speculating about what it meant for Nangong Pushe of Listening Tide Pavilion to be "just one story away," and for the woman in purple from Daxueping to be "just one pass away."

Only old people familiar with the Spring and Autumn conflicts might know that on both sides of the river, transverse to this solitary boat and purple-clad figure, stood the ruins of two massive stone platforms, two *zhang* high, with two now rusty iron pillars. Their holes aligned, originally established during the Great Feng Dynasty, they had successfully blocked southern invasions by northern barbarians. By raising several iron chains, the Guangling River could be sealed. Most of these barrier chains were slightly submerged, only fully surfacing during dry seasons. Later, a general guarding the river for Western Chu betrayed them and personally burned the chains, leading to the mournful tale of the chains sinking into the river without a single arrow being fired. It was said that after the Battle of West Leibei, the people of Great Chu cried countless tears upon hearing the tragic news. In later generations, many skilled fishermen, enticed by large rewards from some Spring and Autumn remnants, sought to explore the riverbed for these chains. Unfortunately, none succeeded. Those remnants could only abandon their money and return sadly. As the Liyang court grew more stable and the world more peaceful, such "fools" became increasingly rare. In recent years, no one cared whether those sunken chains truly lay at the bottom of the Guangling River.

The old man at the front of the ferry was a little surprised. It was logical for someone to block his path, but he hadn't expected her to be the first. That woman already held the esteemed dual identities of Martial Alliance Leader and Xuanyuan Clan Head of Kunniu Peak, yet she was so reckless with her life. After abandoning the city, he was no longer as lenient as he had been within Wudi City. Previously, he cherished the martial talents in the *jianghu*, not because he was benevolent or sympathetic, but because he hoped they would reach the peak of martial arts and eventually produce a martial artist who could stand alongside him. Now that he had left the city and the East Sea, his goal was clear: to find the Prince of Northern Liang. Everyone else no longer mattered to him. If anyone else dared to provoke him, oblivious to their own peril, he wouldn't hesitate to kill them one by one, considering it preparation for his final battle in this world. Wang Xianzhi looked up at the sky. After "Under Heaven," there was only "Heaven."

The bow of the ferry slowly began to sink, until the stern pointed high into the air. But the passengers who were falling forward were stopped by an invisible wall in the middle of the large boat. A group of people huddled together awkwardly, watching the linen-clad old man still standing calmly at the bow. The woman in purple bent down, tying a knot in her skirt, making it a dead knot.

Standing up, gazing at the distant "Number One Under Heaven" who was poised for action, Xuanyuan Qingfeng, who had unconsciously descended from Huishan and rushed all the way here, felt no regret. When she encountered the "Human Cat" in the Western Regions – an invincible opponent below the Land Immortal realm – her reluctance to fight was one reason, but more so, she was unwilling to go all out. Later, when that person was about to fight a death match with Human Cat, she still wasn't willing to die in vain, so she retreated again, even distancing herself from Northern Liang to win favor with the Zhao imperial family of Liyang. She thus became the first female Martial Alliance Leader in centuries, admired by all. Disloyal? She never denied her ingratitude. But what's the point of loyalty for a woman? Initially, when she heard Wang Xianzhi had left the city for Northern Liang, she hadn't impulsively decided to get involved. After reaching the Grand Heavenly Phenomenon realm by absorbing the imperial seal's fortune and consuming the hard-won cultivation of nearly a hundred masters, she understood even more clearly the invincible aura of the top three in the martial arts rankings. She could already see the final threshold, and thus should have cherished her life even more. However, after digging up three jars of "Daughter Red" wine that her father, Xuanyuan Jingcheng, had buried years ago under a Tang osmanthus tree, she intended to drink until she was drunk, but the more she drank, the clearer her mind became. That night, she lay on the roof of a tall building, gazing for a long time at eight small characters on a bottle's bottom. Later, she quietly descended the mountain.

Facing the then tenth greatest under heaven, she retreated. But facing Wang Xianzhi, who had been invincible for sixty years, she came. At that moment, Xuanyuan Qingfeng scoffed to herself, "Are you stupid?" Xuanyuan Qingfeng smiled, "Beyond saving. So don't save. Can you escape now? No, then fight. What's the big deal?"

Xuanyuan Qingfeng's gaze instantly hardened. She extended an arm, fingers like hooks. The river water beside her small boat churned as if boiling. A colossal iron chain, like a black dragon, broke through the river surface. Xuanyuan Qingfeng gripped one end of the chain, touched her toe to the boat, and the small vessel shattered completely. The woman in purple dragged the chain, which was over two hundred *zhang* long, and began to sprint across the river surface. With a flick of her wrist, the chain instantly formed a massive arc, like a scorpion's tail, and slammed fiercely towards the ferry.

The old man at the front of the ferry leaped high. The entire bow plunged into the river, then was pushed back above the surface by the downward current, sliding rapidly backward. Wang Xianzhi soared high, directly confronting the iron chain descending with the force of thunder. The Guangling River in that instant was like a river cleaved by an immortal's sword, dividing east from west, and north from south. Wang Xianzhi remained expressionless, allowing the fierce gale to strike him. He grabbed the chain. Instead of gripping it immediately, he let it slide a few *zhang* through his grasp, causing sparks to fly. Wang Xianzhi clenched his fist, snapping the dragon-tail chain. The sound was thunderous, louder than summer lightning. The river surface beneath his feet erupted into towering waves.

The woman in purple was unfazed by the breaking chain. She stopped, retracted her hand a few inches, then extended it a few more. The long whip-chain, nimble and venomous, formed a spear tip, thrusting straight towards Wang Xianzhi's chest. Wang Xianzhi extended a palm, placing its center against the "spear tip," and descended slightly, his body tilting. The tip of the long spear was like a lit firecracker, turning into dust segment by segment, with continuous, booming impacts. The woman, who stubbornly refused to let go, was flung into the river by the immense, unending force! With the purple-clad figure as its center, a magnificent splash of water suddenly erupted on the Guangling River. The woman's figure was no longer visible on the river.

Before landing on the river surface, Wang Xianzhi threw the dark iron chain, dozens of *zhang* long, from his hand towards the woman who had almost sunk to the bottom. Wang Xianzhi paid no heed to her fate. As his feet touched the water, he crouched down, clasped his ten fingers into a fist, and slammed it onto the river surface below! The entire river surface, hit by the impact, formed a "water bowl." The vast river water at the edge of this great green bowl surged over the banks, while at the center of the bowl, the water level dropped sharply, clearly intending to crush the woman at the bottom into a pulp!

Wang Xianzhi, not bothering to stand up immediately, said calmly, "Hide? Xu Fengnian, with all his three hundred thousand iron cavalry, couldn't hide. Where could you hide?" Wang Xianzhi didn't wait for the surging river water to calm. He brought two fingers together, then tapped them lightly on the water surface below. With each tap, a water-dragon soared from the river and hovered in the air. In an instant, eighteen azure dragons appeared on the river. Wang Xianzhi stood up and casually waved his sleeve. Once, there was a green-clad swordsman with two sleeves of green snakes. Now, there was Wang Xianzhi, with a sleeve full of azure dragons. After one wave of his sleeve, the azure dragons linked head to tail and plunged into the water, churning the river violently. Wang Xianzhi crossed his arms, quietly waiting for the drowning woman to be driven out of the water to her death.

Under the water, a series of more than a dozen rapid, muffled sounds could be heard. When the woman reappeared on the river surface, countless broken iron chains twisted and coiled around her. The woman in purple stood on a chain laid horizontally across the river. A faint trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. Wang Xianzhi was still over eighty *zhang* away from the woman. One arm was raised, the other pulled back. He launched a punch through the air. A fan-shaped curtain of *qi* energy appeared around the old man. Then, the purple-clad woman's iron chain surged forward wildly, only to be instantly shredded and torn apart. Another tremendous bang! The woman in purple was thrown backward. Even with chaotic *qi* continuously pulling at her, trying to halt her retreat, it was futile. She continued backward until her body struck the canyon wall, creating a massive indentation, like a tomb.