Chapter 856: Iron Cavalry in the Snowstorm Descends on Jiangnan (4)

Martial Emperor City by the East Sea, ever since the young man surnamed Jiang stopped coming here to train his body by battling the tides, had completely lost its essence. It swiftly transformed from a revered martial arts sanctuary into an ordinary city. It no longer had Wang Xianzhi, the white-robed old scoundrel who looked down on the world; no Cao Changqing, who once sat alone in a high tower watching battles; no Deng Tai'a, riding his donkey backward and carrying a peach branch; no Sui Xiegou, whose sword hovered over the city as he slowly entered; no Yu Xinlang, Lin Ya, and others. Most importantly, it no longer had the King of Northern Liang, who once carried a bowl to the city wall. Without its Martial Emperor, Martial Emperor City had become mediocre and uninteresting. Although imperial troops had not yet garrisoned Martial Emperor City, everyone understood it was only a matter of time. Consequently, the notorious figures who had sought refuge there from government pursuit, the martial artists hiding from their enemies, and the respected elders who had retired from the world of conflicts, all began to leave this city by the East Sea.

On the city wall, where people once battled the tides, a tall, slender figure suddenly appeared.

Not far off, the great tide surged like an army of thousands, crashing violently against the city wall and instantly engulfing the figure.

The next moment, the figure was gone, perhaps swept away by the waves.

But when the tide receded, another figure appeared on the city wall. Unlike the fleeting previous one, this man did not immediately vanish. He was dressed simply, with an ordinary appearance, a face full of stubble, and somewhat worn boots.

Before this inconspicuous middle-aged man, a three-foot sword hovered, humming faintly like a mosquito's wings.

The travel-worn man paused his sword, looking around with sharp eyes; he himself seemed like the sharpest sword in the world.

He had traveled a hundred *li* by flying sword, from the Imperial Astronomy Bureau in Tai'an City to the snowy mountains of Liaodong, then from Liaodong to Liaoxi, and back from Liaoxi to the capital region, all the way south until he reached this place.

The man rubbed his chin, saying, "Xie Guanying, your ability to flee is truly unmatched. But if you're so capable, why don't you run all the way to the South Sea?"

After about an inch of an incense stick had burned down, the man sneered, "Found you!"

The hovering, sentient flying sword, as if receiving a command, vanished in a flash, preceding its master.

Not long before this, past the usual mealtime, in front of a gradually quietening *baozi* shop, a child nicknamed "Dog-Ignored" by a green-robed girl, whose real name was Gou Youfang, was staring wide-eyed at a shabby, white-haired scholar. The child looked up at the penniless man, then down at the last cage of small steamed buns that hadn't sold, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two. His grandfather was already clearing the dishes from the tables. Having made a living in Martial Emperor City for most of his life, the old man paid no mind to this. Honestly, in Martial Emperor City, they had seen so many strange things and people that encountering someone normal was what surprised them. The old man had encountered countless peculiar customers: those who complained the buns had too much meat and refused to pay, those who wondered why the buns weren't sweet, those who, without a single coin in their pockets, would slam precious swords or knives on the table before walking away, and those who, while eating inexpensive small buns, would boast about all the delicacies they had tasted in their youth. Some would pretentiously pull out a tattered secret manual to trade for a cage of buns, while others claimed to be Cao Changqing, Deng Tai'a, or someone famous, hence refusing to pay their bill. There were simply too many.

The child asked, "Do you want to eat some small steamed buns?"

The shabby but clean scholar remained expressionless.

The child asked again, "No money?"

The scholar simply stared at the child.

The child wasn't one to kick someone when they were down. Although he had grown up in hardship with only his grandfather, without parents, his upbringing was excellent. Therefore, even though it was clear the impoverished scholar intended to eat for free, the child didn't speak harshly. He hesitated, wondering whether to simply give him the buns. After all, giving away one cage of buns wasn't a big deal, but he worried the man might then latch onto him and his grandfather. He remembered Jiang Fuding, who used to frequent their shop in Zongcheng and once spoke of the principle that a small kindness can be met with gratitude, but a large one can breed resentment. Just as the child decided to give him the buns for free, the impoverished scholar suddenly spoke, asking hoarsely, "What is your name?"

The child immediately felt a little weary. Ever since he started helping his grandfather, at least eight out of ten customers from the martial world had claimed he possessed a unique constitution and was a martial arts prodigy. So, the child instinctively replied curtly, "You can have these buns, but I don't practice martial arts."

The child suddenly remembered that this elderly man didn't seem like a martial artist involved in fighting; he looked more like a scholar. So, the child quickly added, "And I don't attend a private school."

The shabby outsider repeated his question, expressionlessly, "What is your name?"

The child instinctively took two steps back, feeling a deep sense of fear and awe.

The middle-aged scholar standing before the child frowned. When he raised his hand, the child saw him holding a small piece of a broken bowl. He broke off a fingernail-sized fragment in front of the child, put it in his mouth, and began to chew.

The child was dumbfounded. Was this man so hungry he had gone mad?

When the child finally came to his senses, he suddenly turned pale with fright. Near him, his grandfather seemed to be held by a stasis spell cast by an immortal, maintaining his bent-over posture of wiping the table. Not only his grandfather, but all pedestrians on the street were also frozen. Someone had lifted a foot to step forward but couldn't put it down, suspended half a foot above the ground. Someone else, finding the lingering spring chill unbearable, had tried to jump and stomp their feet to warm up, and was now suspended mid-air. Another, joking with a friend walking beside them, had turned their head with a brilliant smile, which was now frozen... All of this exceeded the child's imagination. His hands trembled, and he accidentally dropped the cage of buns. But as the small bamboo cage hit the ground, the world seemed to shake and wobble violently. In the child's vision, his grandfather, the tables, the pedestrians, and the street were all swaying wildly, making him dizzy.

The middle-aged scholar took a few steps forward, bent down to pick up the cage of buns, and stood shoulder to shoulder with the child. Only then did the child see, in the silent world, a single sword slowly approaching.

The man said hoarsely, "My name is Xie Guanying, and from now on, you are my only disciple."

The man took out the other half of the broken bowl from his embrace, which was much more complete, and placed it in the child's hand. Then, he suddenly placed a hand on the child's head and said calmly, "Hong Sixiang was unwilling to act on behalf of Heaven and bring misfortune upon Xu Fengnian. As for me, I wanted to, but couldn't."

The man looked up at the sky, and the hand on the child's head slightly increased its pressure. Immediately, mist rose and immortal energy swirled, finally coalescing about three feet above them into a magnificent landscape of mountains and rivers, with flood dragons hidden within the mountains and great rivers.

There are deities three feet above one's head.

The disheveled man withdrew his gaze, looking at the flying sword that had broken free from the constraints of the Heavenly Dao, and said regretfully, "So, a thousand years of longevity, a step further than Patriarch Lu, was nothing but a joke in the end. Taking you as a disciple was out of necessity. Oh well, the scholars of the imperial court in this world have all met their fated ends; it's time for the martial artists to have their conclusions too. I will be the first, Cao Changqing the second. As for who will be the last, I hope it is you. Remember, if you ever encounter someone named Yu Dilong, show no mercy. Just don't think about achieving enlightenment and ascending in the future. As a second best, try your best to make your name famous in history."

After saying this, the man disappeared.

The child, now with a flushed face, looked around bewildered. His grandfather had resumed wiping the table, pedestrians on the road continued moving, and the world had grown lively once more.

And the flying sword had also vanished.

The child looked down; only the broken white bowl in his hand clearly told him that the recent encounter was not a daydream. The child murmured, "My name is Gou Youfang."

He heard a "Hey!"

The child suddenly looked up and saw an ordinary-looking middle-aged man, who smiled and asked, "Does the shop still have food?"

Gou Youfang quickly turned and hid the broken bowl in his clothes. "Honored guest, our shop's signature small steamed buns are all gone, but we still have wontons and mixed noodles."

The unassuming middle-aged man seemed completely unconcerned about the child or the half-broken bowl. He just grinned and said, "Then I'll have a bowl of wontons, and add a dish of chili oil. Make it as spicy as possible."

The child cheerfully replied, "Alright! Our chili oil is so potent even customers from Shu can't handle it. I'm just afraid you'll be asking for cold water later."

The uncle's face suddenly became awkward. "Waiter."

The clever child quickly interjected, "Just put it on the tab!"

The uncle still seemed hesitant. "Putting it on the tab would be best, but I'm in a hurry and might not return here for several years. That would be troublesome."

The child smiled, "It's alright. Our shop has been in business in this city for thirty years, since my grandfather's time. As long as you intend to pay, a few years or even ten years late is fine. Of course, if you truly forget, then forget it. It's just a bowl of wontons."

The child wasn't usually so overly generous. However, after inexplicably encountering a strange man who called himself Xie Guanying, and then becoming his disciple through some inexplicable twist of fate, the child, despite his young age and steady temperament, felt a little happy.

The uncle glanced at the child a few times, then suddenly reached out and squeezed the child's shoulder and arm. He let out a surprised sound, then clicked his tongue, "That Xie fellow really has some luck. Is it a final burst of energy before death? How could he have found such a gem? Otherwise, even I, Deng Tai'a, would have missed it."

The uncle narrowed his eyes and chuckled, "Little brother, I observe that your constitution is unique..."

The child's mouth twitched. He said helplessly, "Honored guest, I really don't practice martial arts, so please don't take me as your disciple. It's just a bowl of wontons... Grandfather, this guest wants a bowl of wontons!"

His grandfather acknowledged him and went off to work.

The uncle waved his hand and said, "Don't worry, I already have a disciple. That rascal is the jealous type; if he knew, I'd get plenty of eye-rolls. Besides, I don't have a habit of eating for free. The Xie fellow used half a bowl to trade for a cage of your buns, so I, Deng Tai'a, will use a box of new swords to trade for your bowl of wontons."

After saying this, the uncle unceremoniously pulled out a core-box. It was made of ordinary white wood, clearly not a valuable item at first glance, making the worth of its contents even more apparent.

The middle-aged man's face clearly showed a hint of awkwardness. The sword box he had given to that young lord back then was a top-grade sandalwood piece "borrowed" from the Wu family's Sword Tomb. But now that he was wandering the *jianghu* himself, where was he supposed to earn money? However, while there was a world of difference in the sword boxes themselves, the miniature flying swords contained within were absolutely not diminished in value.

Deng Tai'a tossed the wooden box to the child, "Little brother, your 'internal energy' is actually quite sufficient. Whenever you have time, play with the contents of this small box often. I'm sure you'll figure out its secrets soon enough."

How sharp flying swords were! And Deng Tai'a had subtly added a touch of his power; the swords would react when the box was opened, surely drinking blood and recognizing their master instantly. Ordinary martial artists, without the unique "internal energy" the child possessed, wouldn't be able to wield them even if they poured all their blood onto the sword bodies.

Deng Tai'a was in no hurry to pursue Xie Guanying; instead, he leisurely sat by the table, waiting for his bowl of wontons.

When the wontons were brought, the child mustered his courage and cautiously asked, "Senior, I was just thinking, you're actually the Peach Blossom Sword God, aren't you?"

Deng Tai'a showed no surprise. He nodded and said, "The Xie fellow caused such a commotion, I suppose you saw my flying sword entering the city, which is why you asked, correct?"

The child scratched his head and said, "Didn't the Sword God senior just announce his name earlier?"

Speechless, Deng Tai'a lowered his head to eat his wontons.

As he ate, he became even less willing to look up. He had accidentally poured all the chili oil into his wontons, and now he was sweating profusely, finding it a bit too much to handle. But asking Deng Tai'a to use his internal energy to hide his embarrassment would be too much for the Peach Blossom Sword God; broadly speaking, it would go against his true nature and his sword intent. More simply, Deng Tai'a had never cared about maintaining an aura of superiority.

Deng Tai'a finally managed to finish the large bowl of wontons and, with a sigh of relief, looked up and said earnestly, "Little brother, if you ever pick up a sword and practice it, deciding to walk the path of the sword, then remember this: a sword is not a saber. Even if swords have receded from the battlefield, yielding their place to sabers, and even if officials in the imperial court prefer wearing sabers as decoration, no matter how times change, a sword remains a sword. A sword has two edges. So, when facing an enemy with a sword, one edge is for killing and injuring, and the other is for self-reflection..."

At this point, Deng Tai'a's expression subtly changed. "Never mind, I have things to attend to. Perhaps we'll meet again if fate allows. Also, don't take the grudges of the elders seriously. Live your life however you see fit. In the *jianghu*, no matter how other martial artists live, we sword wielders must not harbor too much malice. Otherwise, no matter how divine your cultivation, you won't be considered a true immortal."

Deng Tai'a stood up and turned, quickly exhaling. That chili oil was truly formidable.

The Peach Blossom Sword God stopped lecturing, partly because of the chili oil, and partly because he genuinely didn't know how to explain things to people anymore.

Deng Tai'a pointed his hand, and a flying sword appeared in the southern sky. The next moment, he stood upon the flying sword, and both man and sword vanished in a flash.

In the entire Martial Emperor City, only the child named Gou Youfang perceived this scene.

In the past hundred years, there were Li Chungang, Wang Xianzhi, Xu Fengnian, and Xuanyuan Qingfeng. It was like the Spring and Autumn period, where heroes rose in multitudes.

In the next hundred years, there would only be two. This was like the new dynasty, with two nations in confrontation on the Central Plains grasslands.

After those two became famous throughout the land and were each considered the foremost figures in the world, they engaged in six matches over sixty years, with an agreement to fight every decade, resulting in an even score. Each time one person won a match, the other would even the score in the next.

Yu Dilong is not truly invincible; the world still has Gou Youfang!

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