Chapter 730: Ancient Ballad

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Daoist masters soar through the sky and burrow into the earth, capable of taking a head from a thousand miles away; Buddhist Bodhisattvas, with lowered brows and furious gazes, can shake Mount Kunlun with a raised hand. And who says scholars lack spirit? In a fit of rage, they can make even the Son of Heaven show fear. Stepping across rivers and lakes, striding through song, I have a sword that makes immortals kneel; with a saber, a sword, and wine, three hundred thousand iron cavalry conquer the heavens.

0 Competing for the Throne

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Update Time: 2015-01-11 23:20:28 Word Count: 6098

North of Shelian Commandery in Youzhou, after hundreds or perhaps thousands of years of water erosion, the ground was fractured, crisscrossed by ravines, and punctuated by plateaus of various sizes. A young swordsman, dark-skinned and short-statured, stood on a flat, strip-like plateau with an open view. He was wiping the longsword that had never had a sheath since it was forged. Its name was simply "Sheathless." It was commonly acknowledged in Beiliang and Liyang that Beiliang had excellent sabers but no renowned swords, and there were no swordsmen in the Beiliang martial arts world. Although Jian Qijin was one of the few sword-dao grandmasters in the world, and his sword, "Setting the Wind," was a famous and powerful weapon on sword rosters, the Liyang martial arts community still believed Beiliang had no swords. They even claimed that even after another hundred years, Beiliang would still be without swords.

He was much more indifferent to such matters than Jian Qijin, who had deliberately changed his name to symbolize the continuation of the sword dao in Beiliang. For him, mastering his own sword was paramount; practicing swordsmanship was simply practicing swordsmanship. As for things like "land immortals" or "the greatest under heaven," did he need to overthink them? Therefore, he never wasted energy contemplating matters beyond the sword. The "Sheathless" in his hand was a new sword, with no history or lineage. Its forging materials and the swordsmith's craftsmanship were not bad, but compared to the famous swords on the various rosters, whose names were quite intriguing, it was certainly far inferior—a gap of not ten thousand, but likely eight thousand li. However, the man who had guided him onto the path of swordsmanship, the one who never admitted to being his master, had paid for the sword before their parting and then delivered a long, nagging "last testament," like a dying person stubbornly clinging to their last breath for days and nights, so much so that even the most filial descendant by their bedside would have found it unbearable.

"A sword, as long as it feels right in your hand, it'll be satisfactory. Swordsmen who constantly switch their swords can't master good sword techniques. Of course, you might ask if you have to change swords if one breaks. Wrong! Don't believe me? Look at Li Chungang from Liyang; he only has his Wooden Ox sword, yet he can open the Heavenly Gate with it. Can you go wrong learning from him? No, right?"

"Though I don't practice swordsmanship, I believe a swordsman choosing a sword is like a man choosing a wife: love at first sight is crucial, and after that, no changing affections. You, quickly take a few more looks at the sword in your hand. It cost me dozens of taels of silver! You poor kid, how dare you not fall in love at first sight? If you've got the guts, try shaking your head and see if I don't break your limbs. With such poor judgment, what kind of sword will you ever train with? Wasted my dozens of taels for nothing!" "Your expression looks like you don't want me to leave? Huh? Are you nodding or shaking your head, kid? Damn it, if you don't want me to leave, at least slip me some silver, even a few copper coins would do. Oh, so you want to beg me for some sword manuals and secret texts but are too embarrassed to ask? To be honest, there are none! Kid, one last piece of advice: remember, don't think that just because I'm not charging you, it's not serious. Practicing martial arts, whether it's swordsmanship or something else, can be summed up in two words: 'Outrageous'! Don't understand? These two words are enough for you to ponder for ten years. It's your fault your comprehension is poor, worse than mine when I was young, otherwise I would have taken you as my disciple long ago. Since your comprehension is poor, don't blame me for being stingy; blame your parents." "That's all I have to say. Since I can't find a wife in Beiliang, I'll go to Liyang. Let's try not to meet again in the future; I'm afraid I'll regret paying for your sword today."

At that moment, the nearby swordsmith's face turned ashen with anger. Forget the poor kid; this big pauper was truly something else! Eleven taels of silver called "dozens" was one thing, but he even tried to round it down to just ten taels? This kind of character, bragging to the high heavens in my sword shop, and even misleading disciples by teaching them "outrageous" things? You yourself are the most outrageous! The ill-tempered swordsmith finally lost his patience and started cursing on the spot: "It would be a miracle if you could find a wife in Beiliang! Hurry up and go to Liyang to ruin other families' daughters; that would truly be a blessing!"

The young swordsman stopped wiping his sword and gazed into the distance, a slight smile playing on his lips. If that obscure swordsmith had known the identity of that man back then, he probably wouldn't have dared to curse him so much, even if it meant his death.

Even after Tuoba Pusa became the foremost figure in Beiliang, he was consistently considered inferior to Wang Xianzhi. No matter how steadily Tuoba Pusa's cultivation had advanced over the years, this fact remained unchanged. However, the former foremost expert of Beiliang, who preceded Tuoba Pusa, was believed by everyone in Beiliang to be fully capable of fighting Wang Xianzhi of Liyang to the death before his inexplicable disappearance.

This genius, hailed as appearing once every thousand years on the vast grasslands, was Huyan Daguan. He alone was a sect. And the swordsman who failed to become Huyan Daguan's disciple was Tie Mudier. His ancestors were once the highest-flying eagles on the grasslands, soaring freely even in the skies of the Central Plains.

Tie Mudier was not someone prone to reminiscing or feeling nostalgic. He had a premonition that he likely wouldn't return to the grasslands this time. He felt little connection to Beiliang as an "empire"; most grassland youths were like this—a tent was a home, a surname a tribe. The reason he was involved in this mess was that the Beiliang royal court had threatened his tribe.

At that time, ten people had joined forces to intercept and kill the Beiliang Great General surnamed Yan. Tie Qier and Kou Ke'er died first. Ti Bingshan Woyila was abandoned first by "Little Thought" and died at a certain pass. Later, the remaining seven again fell into a deadly trap, and Ah Hema, who always complained about not being able to drink, died laughing. Afterward, they almost successfully escaped danger under the leadership of Mr. Da Leyu, but unfortunately, their tracks were discovered by a group said to be qi practitioners. Two long-renowned experts from the Beiliang martial arts world also died; Tie Mudier still didn't know their names, only remembering that both used sabers, and one even blocked a spear thrust from the Beiliang expert for him. Now, only he, Tie Mudier, Mr. Da Leyu, "Little Thought" from Princess Tomb who always covered half her face, and the gloomy old woman whose temples had long lost their flowers, remained.

This situation, which should have been a perfect opportunity for a group to gang up on one person, ended in such a terrible defeat. Mr. Da Leyu had explained many reasons during their escape, but Tie Mudier had forgotten them all. All he knew was that they had tried countless methods: at first, they scattered and fled; later, they tried to besiege with all their might; and then, various elaborate ambushes and interceptions—but in the end, nothing worked. From start to finish, the Beiliang man, whose strength was terrifying even to Tie Mudier, pursued them with one consistent method: he targeted whoever was in the northernmost position and killed them, never rushing. He always used only one spear thrust, and before that, his opponents were free to employ all their lifelong skills. If someone moved to a more northern position, he would unhesitatingly switch targets.

Generally, martial arts grandmasters who have reached the level of these ten individuals possess immense physical strength and speed. If they are determined to flee, it is not easy for an enemy of the same realm, even if superior in skill, to kill them; it requires long, continuous battles. But the problem was that the man, who carried only an ordinary iron spear, needed only one thrust to kill each time, which was more fatal than anything else. Before striking, he relied on his unparalleled physical prowess to wear them down, forcing them to either dodge or, if they couldn't dodge in time, confront him head-on with brute force. Having personally experienced his terror, Tie Mudier finally understood why people often said there were only two kinds of masters in the world: one was Wang Xianzhi, and the other was all other martial artists, led by Tuoba Pusa.

Tie Mudier grinned. The man who said he was going to Liyang to find a wife, in today's world, could perhaps be considered one type of martial artist alongside Tuoba Pusa and the Prince of Beiliang. Then, everyone else, including Tie Mudier, belonged to another type.

A middle-aged man with bloodstains on his collar squatted by the young swordsman's feet, picked up a pinch of dirt, slowly chewed it, and smiled faintly. "What happy thoughts are you having? Among us four stray dogs, you're the only one who can still smile, and so effortlessly too."

Tie Mudier chuckled, "Thinking about a man."

The refined man, still eating dirt, teased, "Tie Mudier, what you just said is quite profound. I never noticed that about you before."

Tie Mudier grunted.

The unkempt man seemed to have a leisurely disposition, quoting obscure texts, "In spring, the earth's vital energy flows, and the soil awakens. This yellow loamy soil in my mouth is like a child among soils, quite young. The kind I tasted a few days ago, that was old."

Though not interested, Tie Mudier listened attentively.

The man looked around, his smile gentle and warm, then whispered mysteriously, "Since you're standing here, you have a chance to live. The three of us, well, it'll be difficult."

A hunched old woman spoke in a strange, sarcastic tone, "Da Leyu, your mood isn't bad at all, chatting and joking with Tie Mudier here. Our 'Little Thought' risked her life just to buy us this precious breathing time."

The man, who was indeed Grandmaster Leyu of Qijian Sect, smiled and said, "An inch of time is an inch of gold. Time, in fact, is always valuable. Of course, it's even more valuable now. The four of our heads combined should barely be worth a legion of ten thousand cavalry. Roughly calculated, based on a ten-year lifespan on the battlefield for ten thousand cavalry, that would be..."

He suddenly stood up and said gravely, "They're here."

Tie Mudier gripped Sheathless tightly and said in a deep voice, "My sword will surely be faster than at the previous pass."

The old woman sneered, "What good is the grace of an immortal swordsman's strike if it can't kill Xu Yanbing? We'll definitely lose another life today."

Da Leyu patted the young swordsman's shoulder. "The sword is getting faster and faster. Even if the later strike is only slightly faster than the previous one, it's a great improvement. Tie Mudier, you must trust yourself, and your sword!"

The young man nodded. His dark face caught the dazzling sunlight.

This lightened Da Leyu's heavy heart a little. He looked at the old woman, the oldest and most fearful of death among the four, and said calmly, "This time, I'll stay."

Far from appreciating it, the old woman retorted acidly, "It's about time it was your Qijian Leyu's turn!"

Da Leyu simply smiled.

About half a *li* away, two figures continuously intertwined, "slowly" approaching Tie Mudier's large plateau. The old woman narrowed her eyes, her face grim.

Da Leyu, however, did not watch the fight. He straightened his sleeves and sat cross-legged.

The woman in the white blouse and long skirt danced like a white butterfly on the sandy slopes, ethereal and agile. "Little Thought," nicknamed "Half-Face Makeup," engaged in close combat with the man surnamed Xu.

With a tip of her toe, she spun her body, her five fingers like hooks, clawing at Xu Yanbing's head. He arched his body backward, and the slender, jade-like hand barely grazed a few inches above his face.

The butt of the iron spear in his hand casually hooked upward, striking towards Little Thought's neck.

This seemingly casual "spear thrust," devoid of any obvious internal force, had been experienced countless times by all eight, including Half-Face Makeup. Because it didn't contain abundant *qi* energy, even if struck, it wouldn't cause serious injury or broken bones. However, at Fengqi Pass, Woyila became enraged precisely because of this. After enduring eight such thrusts, the violent peak master of Ti Bingshan exploded with fury. He stopped conserving energy for escape and unleashed what could be called the peak punch of his life, leaving no room for retreat, facing death unflinchingly. The result, of course, was that Xu Yanbing seized the opportunity and pierced Woyila's fist, arm, and shoulder with a single spear thrust.

Little Thought leaned her body, advancing rapidly with small steps, dodging the iron spear. To an observer watching from the side, it appeared as if she were shouldering the spear herself. In an instant, Little Thought was before Xu Yanbing, who had just straightened up. Her four fingers, pressed together like a sharp knife, stabbed fiercely towards Xu Yanbing's heart!

Xu Yanbing flicked his wrist slightly, and the spear shaft gently nudged her shoulder, pushing Little Thought sideways. The white-clad woman's feet slid across the sandy ground, leaving a trail, and crimson blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.

Xu Yanbing held his iron spear, expressionless. Ignoring Little Thought, whose gaze was like a knife, he looked towards the large plateau across two deep ravines.

The act had gone on long enough; it was time for the real show. As expected, Little Thought leaped, plummeting into the ravine.

Before Little Thought jumped into the ravine, Da Leyu, who was sitting on the ground like a private tutor preparing to teach at a desk, chuckled softly, "Heaven and Earth are silent; the Great Wind sings." Deserts are typically full of wind and sand, but if a strong wind swept across the sky without a single grain of sand, it would certainly defy common sense. Around the plateau where Xu Yanbing stood, only the howling and wailing of the great wind could be heard, with no sand.

Da Leyu sat cross-legged, closing his eyes in concentration. Instantly, blood flowed from his seven orifices, yet his face remained serene as he declared loudly, "Fight south of the city wall, die north of the outer wall; bodies unburied in the wilderness, for crows to feed. For me, tell the crows: 'Be audacious guests!'"

As soon as he finished speaking, a figure slowly rose. Another Da Leyu stood up, formed as if from a thousand rays of light converging. "He" took a step forward, passing directly through his seated self. His wide sleeves fluttered, and his strides grew larger and larger. Approaching the edge of the large plateau, he transformed into a streak of rainbow and charged directly towards Xu Yanbing.

The seated Grandmaster's face was covered in blood, and his blue gown on his knees was dripping with blood. He said hoarsely, "Human life is like a single season for plants and trees; with eyes closed, all return to dust."

Another Da Leyu stood up. His figure was not as graceful and unrestrained as the previous one, and his steps were faltering, but he was incredibly fast, also sweeping towards Xu Yanbing.

Sword immortals fly on their swords, traveling to Beiyue in the morning and Cangwu in the evening, symbolizing their speed. But an immortal's spirit leaving the body for an astral journey is even faster.

The two Da Leyus emerged from their bodies one after another. The former stopped behind Xu Yanbing, while the latter came before Xu Yanbing.

Unbeknownst to them, Tie Mudier stood before the deceased Mr. Da Leyu, whose spirit had traveled far. He roared, "Great Wind!"

Mr. Da Leyu's corpse, Tie Mudier drawing his sword, one of Leyu's souls, Xu Yanbing, and another of Leyu's souls. These five were perfectly aligned in a straight line.

The old woman, one of the "two cocoons of the spiderweb," hadn't even seen how Tie Mudier drew his sword or when he left the large plateau for the higher one opposite. When she finally managed to focus her eyes, she found the situation so bizarre that she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Da Leyu paid with his life to "guide" Tie Mudier's killing move—a strike of an Earth Immortal's sword. It ended with Xu Yanbing's spear piercing Tie Mudier's shoulder, four feet in front of him.

The tip of the Sheathless sword was still one foot away from Xu Yanbing's heart. Although the sword energy had reached him, causing a crimson stain on Xu Yanbing's chest, it was certainly not fatal. A single foot can be the difference between life and death, or even the separation of yin and yang, when facing off against peak martial arts grandmasters.

But between Xu Yanbing and Tie Mudier, someone grasped the iron spear, preventing Xu Yanbing from simply pulling the spear shaft downward to mangle Tie Mudier's heart and lungs.

Xu Yanbing pulled out the iron spear, its shaft emitting a series of ear-piercing scrapes. The uninvited guest supported Tie Mudier with one hand and shook his wrist with the other, his palm showing some bloodstains. The old woman gulped. As an elder of the "Spiderweb" organization, she recognized the person: Huyan Daguan! Besides Tuoba Pusa, no one else could have completely repelled Xu Yanbing's full-force spear thrust, and it was even more unrealistic to expect the latter to return without success.

Huyan Daguan smiled, "I rushed here as fast as I could and finally made it. Xu Yanbing, if you don't kill Tie Mudier, I won't trouble Xu Fengnian. How about that?"

Xu Yanbing's expression was indifferent. He raised his spear by an inch and took a step back. The opponent before him was worthy enough for him to extend their distance to the optimal range for his iron spear to unleash its full power.

Huyan Daguan said with a helpless expression, "To be honest, the war between Liang and Mang is none of my business. I never intended to cause trouble for Xu Fengnian before this."

Tie Mudier struggled slightly, but Huyan Daguan's hand on his shoulder tightened, and Tie Mudier immediately found it difficult to even breathe.

Huyan Daguan composed his expression and said, "But if you insist on killing Tie Mudier today, I don't mind trying to kill Xu Fengnian. As for whether I succeed, I don't care."

The old woman knew that Huyan Daguan wasn't deliberately releasing his *qi* aura, yet she felt suffocated. Then, a wave of despairing grief immediately surged within her, which she couldn't suppress no matter how much she tried. This was because the man who had pursued them for a full ten days without uttering a single word had finally spoken!

Xu Yanbing said calmly, "First, ask my spear."

Huyan Daguan, who spoke Liyang's official dialect more fluently than its own people, let out an expletive and gave a wry smile. "Stop, stop, I'm scared of you! Xu Yanbing, if you're determined to fight, fine. That iron spear in your hand is already a wreck inside. Go back and get a new one, one that can at least withstand three of your thrusts, otherwise, it won't be a satisfying fight! I, Huyan Daguan, will wait for you right here. Tie Mudier, 'Little Thought,' and that old woman who refuses to age and loves to put a big red flower in her hair—I'll keep them all here for you. Then, whoever wins gets to talk, how about that?"

Xu Yanbing nodded and, without further ado, turned and left. This sight almost made the old woman from the "Spiderweb" organization's eyes pop out of her sockets. Once Xu Yanbing's figure vanished from sight, Huyan Daguan released his grip. Tie Mudier, his face stained with tears, turned to look at the large plateau where Grandmaster Leyu sat.

The Sheathless sword quietly slipped from his grasp. Huyan Daguan calmly said, "Pick it up." Tie Mudier seemed distraught, completely oblivious to what Huyan Daguan was saying. Huyan Daguan didn't bother with further words. He slapped Tie Mudier, sending him flying several *zhang* away in front of Da Leyu's corpse. With a flick of his foot, he then kicked the discarded sword towards him.

"Little Thought," her face half-veiled by white gauze, came to Huyan Daguan's side, her expression complex. Huyan Daguan sighed, "Who we were eight hundred years ago, does it matter? It's not surprising that Luoyang can't let go; she was the Empress of Great Qin. Even I, the so-called shadow of the Qin Emperor, let go long ago. What are you? Just a royal woman whose small state was destroyed by the Great Qin army. Such grudges, over eight hundred years, throughout the various states, dynasties, emperors, and empresses of the Central Plains, there have been so many. Not to mention princesses of small kingdoms, it's meaningless."

Huyan Daguan looked up at the sky. "Besides, that person is gone. Xu Fengnian is just Xu Fengnian. Who are you going to hate? You successfully incited those two women to turn against each other, and it could even be said that to a large extent, you caused the downfall of Great Qin in a single generation. Are you still not satisfied?"

Little Thought ripped off her veil. Half of her face was extraordinarily beautiful, but the other half constantly shifted through various unfamiliar female faces. Finally, it settled, revealing half of a man's face.

Huyan Daguan turned his head, avoiding her gaze, and said softly, "You should leave." She looked at the white veil fluttering in the distance, raised a hand, gently covered half her face, and murmured, "You really left, didn't you? Then tell me, where can I go? You're always like this, never even willing to look at me. I never hated you; I just wanted you to look at me, just once..."

Huyan Daguan asked, "Are you truly not leaving?" Princess Tomb's Little Thought raised her other hand, her ten fingers like hooks, and very slowly began to slash her own two faces into a bloody mess. She showed no sign of pain, closing her eyes. She softly hummed a tune in a dialect incomprehensible to modern ears. When the tune ended, Huyan Daguan pushed her forehead with his palm. She fell into the canyon.

Huyan Daguan stood alone, hands clasped behind his back, sighing softly, "This life has finally ended." The white attire was like a delicate white butterfly unwilling to emerge from its cocoon, timidly hiding within, observing the outside world. Never again would that woman, when alone, remove her veil and, year after year, lifetime after lifetime, look into the mirror and see him.

In the corridor beneath the eaves of a private school in Beiliang, an elderly man in his seventies lay on a rattan chair, basking in the warm sunlight. All around him sat young children learning their lessons. The old man sang a line, and the children sang it after him. It was an ancient ballad that had circulated not long after the fall of Great Qin. The singing was melodious. "The Yang family had a daughter, just growing up, raised in seclusion, unknown to others. Her natural beauty was hard to hide, and one day she was chosen to be by the king's side. A single glance back, a hundred charms arose, making all the court beauties pale in comparison..."

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