Chapter 999: Central Plains Master, Arrives Generously, Dies Magnificently!

The Northern Mang Military God and the young vassal king, two mortal enemies whose clash might determine the fate of countless people in Liangmang, both consciously and unconsciously kept the battlefield away from Jubei City. The former likely feared Xu Fengnian's Northern Liang destiny, which had not yet been fully consumed by the heavenly dao; if he had Jubei City as a stronghold, it might suppress Tuoba Pusa's as-yet unrevealed trump card. The latter was more concerned that if the two entered Jubei City to fight, Tuoba Pusa, once unleashed, could completely nullify the hard-won, tragic victory achieved by the eighteen grandmasters united against the enemy. As Xu Fengnian drifted away, he cautioned Wei Miao and Chai Qingshan, who were still confronting thousands of cavalry. The contemporary master of the Eastern Yue Sword Pond, Chai Qingshan, gestured with his eyes, reassuring the young vassal king not to worry about the situation there. Xu Fengnian clasped his hands solemnly towards the two Central Plains grandmasters who had disregarded their lives, showing his gratitude. Chai Qingshan dismissed it with a smile, his chest swelling with heroic spirit.

Chai Qingshan’s brow was split, and his chest had a deep, bone-revealing gash from a Northern Mang 'Willow Branch' technique. However, compared to Chai Qingshan, whose injuries, though appearing severe, hadn't fundamentally damaged his vital energy, Wei Miao of Nanzhao was truly gravely wounded, both physically and in terms of vital energy. Wei Miao, as the undisputed foremost expert of the Southwest martial arts world, was a top-tier martial artist in terms of physical conditioning, martial arts mastery, and reactive combat. However, the combined sneak attack by Murong Baoding, nicknamed "Half-Face Buddha," and the spider-web assassin Li Feng, was too insidious and vicious, taking advantage of his vulnerability. Wei Miao endured two full-force punches from Murong Baoding; the one to his head, in particular, had already ruptured his eardrum and caused internal cranial bleeding. If Xu Fengnian hadn't, while restraining Tuoba Pusa, adopted a stance that indicated he'd sacrifice the initiative to first kill Murong Baoding, thus forcing the restless Northern Mang envoy to hold back, Wei Miao wouldn't have gained a moment's respite, nor would Chai Qingshan's momentum have slightly recovered. Otherwise, with four thousand Northern Mang cavalry, including a thousand elite Winter Thunder cavalry from Juzizhou, plus the menacing Murong Baoding, it would have been difficult for the two grandmasters to turn the tide.

In fact, if Murong Baoding had had the audacity to risk his own life earlier, choosing to decisively attack Wei Miao and secure the first move for Tuoba Pusa, the young vassal king might have fallen into dire straits beneath Jubei City, and it might even have prematurely ended the Second Liangmang War. Firstly, Tuoba Pusa disdained to actively ask this envoy for assistance. Secondly, the ambitious Murong Baoding, who aspired to dominate the Central Plains, had just achieved a world-shaking victory outside Liangzhou Pass, annihilating Lu Dayuan's left cavalry. His military achievements were so immense they rivaled Prince Dong Zhuo's capture of Hutou City in the First Liangmang War. How could Murong Baoding be willing to risk his life to benefit another? Lastly, during the ambush on Longyan'er Plain, the new King of Liang had killed Hong Jingyan right under Tuoba Pusa's nose, which forced Murong Baoding to seriously reconsider his actions.

Murong Baoding was not in a hurry to act. He looked at the two Central Plains martial grandmasters, Wei and Chai, and calmly said in clumsy Central Plains officialese, "On the battlefield, there's Lu Dayuan; in the martial world, there's Wei Miao and Chai Qingshan. The heavens have been harsh to me, Murong Baoding, for over forty years, but finally, they've treated me well this once. You Central Plains people have a saying: 'Mountains and rivers intertwine, seemingly no path ahead; then, willows darken, flowers brighten, revealing a new village.' It's wonderful, truly fitting the scene."

After Tuoba Pusa and the young vassal king had left the area, Murong Baoding, clad in silver armor, saw his aura suddenly surge. This royal relative, originally known in the Northern Mang martial world only for his thick skin and sturdy build, had always ranked very low in martial arts evaluations, even when he made it onto a list. This was because Murong Baoding was widely known for being skilled in defense but not attack, a stark contrast to Zhong Liang, the demonic behemoth who ascended directly from a second-rank minor grandmaster to the Finger-Profound realm. They were considered two extremes of Northern Mang martial arts. However, Murong Baoding's audacious two punches that gravely wounded Wei Miao clearly showed he had been hiding his true power for years. Even when he collaborated with Zhong Liang in an ambush against Xu Fengnian in Qingcang City years ago, he deliberately concealed his cultivation from beginning to end. When it came to the concept of 'endurance' or 'concealment', Murong Baoding truly understood its essence.

Wei Miao remained silent, slowly regulating his breathing. Since the Northern Mang envoy was willing to engage in grand discourse, Wei Miao naturally wouldn't actively seek a quick resolution. Chai Qingshan held his three-foot sword diagonally, his expression calm.

The poem quoted by Murong Baoding was widely popular in the Central Plains. However, this half-witted Northern Mang prince likely didn't know its origin: it was from a frontier poem by the "Poet Emperor" who excelled in poetry during the late Dafeng Dynasty—a poem about exile to Liangzhou, longing for his homeland, and dying in old age. "Mountains and rivers intertwine, then willows darken, flowers brighten." Literally speaking, these words always evoked the most captivating landscapes of Jiangnan: bright spring light, lush grass and chirping orioles, pleasant scenery—how could one not linger there? In contrast, this northwestern frontier was a land of desolate mountains, harsh waters, barren yellow earth, and crisscrossing ravines, with a high sky and low clouds. Being in this place, two forceful gusts of wind would rush at you, hitting you straight in the chest with such a bleak and severe aura that it seemed to demand outsiders take a few steps back before relenting.

Chai Qingshan walked beside Wei Miao and smiled faintly, saying, "With Wei Miao's fists, there are no other fists in the world. Truly deserving!" Wei Miao merely curved his lips slightly, making no sound.

Xu Fengnian once joked that among the countless experts and grandmasters he had encountered in his life, three had the most striking presence upon appearing: Han Shengxuan, "the Human Cat" in his red python robes; Qi Jiajie, the top swordsman in the capital; and Xuanyuan Qingfeng in purple attire from Huishan. Conversely, Li Chungang, Sword Nine Huang, and Wei Miao were the three who least resembled grandmasters.

Chai Qingshan continued with a smile, "Since the world cannot be without Wei Miao, yet the Central Plains' 'Sword Forest' has countless young talents—if one or two old fellows die, several rising stars will always take their place. My two disciples from the Eastern Yue Sword Pond alone, Shan Eryi and Song Tinglu, are destined to rise in the future. So, Wei Miao, I'll go first in this battle."

Chai Qingshan's implied meaning was: "I will die first." Wei Miao, who desperately needed to rest and recover, did not refuse the sword master's goodwill. He said in a deep voice, "I, Wei Miao, never speak big words in this life. I can only guarantee that I won't let Old Brother Chai die alone."

Chai Qingshan hesitated, then sighed, "Brother Wei, if you can avoid dying, then don't die! You are different from me; there's still someone waiting for you in Jubei City." Unexpectedly, Wei Miao, short in stature with white bandages wrapped around his legs, smiled, clenched his fists, and gently murmured, "After she married me, we walked the martial world together for so many years. Because my appearance is too ordinary and I don't like to show off, when things came up, I'd never fight unless absolutely necessary. And she, with her lively, vivacious personality, was always so... beautiful like a flower. It seems I never made her feel she had married into a reputable, good family. She always teased me that the man she married wasn't heroic enough. So today, as her man, I, Wei Miao, must do something for her..." Wei Miao said no more.

Murong Baoding's smile was triumphant. "Gentlemen, any last words? In the future, when I, Murong Baoding, preside over the Central Plains, reminiscing with the assembled civil and military officials, this will make for good conversation." Chai Qingshan held his sword horizontally before him, shook his head, and burst into laughter, declaring, "A Northern Mang dog's head isn't worth a few coppers; it would truly disgrace my newly forged sword, Green Water!"

Murong Baoding's face darkened. He tutted, "They say the world's swordsmanship originates from two schools. Since someone has dealt with the 'Withered Sword' from the Wu Family Sword Mound, let me experience the 'New Sword' from the Eastern Yue Sword Pond!" Chai Qingshan tapped his foot, his figure soaring forward, a brilliant azure rainbow sweeping across Murong Baoding's chest.

"A death struggle! Even with only half of your peak vital energy, what does it matter if I let you, old dog Chai, strike a hundred times first?!" Murong Baoding's lips curled into a sneer. He did not dodge, instead raising his arms to block in front of him. The sword edge grazed Murong Baoding's silver armguard, cutting through it like mud, but after breaking the armor, it struck the sleeve of the Juzizhou envoy like tempered steel, producing an unusual metallic clang. Murong Baoding frowned and stepped back. He was determined to slowly deplete Chai Qingshan's vital energy. Besides his physique, which was said to be a "Great Vajra" realm, unique among martial artists, and his "indestructible body," rumored to be no less formidable than that of the Buddhist monk Longshu and his disciple Li Dangxin from the Two Zen Temple, the more crucial factor was the armor he wore. This armor was a top-tier treasure from the Northern Mang imperial treasury, forged in the early Ganlu era, and was once a secret treasure of the Dafeng imperial family. Legend had it that its material was the same as the "Talisman General's Red Armor," one of the Four Grandmasters of the Spring and Autumn Period. With this armor, Murong Baoding had initially believed he could withstand two or three strikes even from Deng Taia, the "Peach Blossom Sword God," renowned for his destructive power. Unexpectedly, he was struck and had his armguard pierced by Chai Qingshan, who was not lightly injured, in their very first exchange. This forced Murong Baoding to abandon his underestimation of the Central Plains grandmasters.

In fact, Li Feng, "Willow Branch," who was skilled in assassination, had both a good start and a bad start. Li Feng's near-fatal willow-leaf sword attack on Chai Qingshan was by no means due to Chai Qingshan's lack of strength. Rather, it was the seamless coordination between Li Feng and Murong Baoding, combined with Chai Qingshan's truly peerless swordsmanship, which reigned supreme in the Central Plains' southeast. If one spoke of grandmasters of fist arts in the world, only Lin Ya, a woman from Wudi City, could stand on her own besides Wei Miao. As for the Central Plains' "Sword Forest," it was indeed as Chai Qingshan described: peak after peak, continuous and endless, a magnificent spectacle! It was certainly not a case of there being no swordsmen besides Deng Taia, nor of there being no sword techniques besides Li Chungang's "Two Sleeves Green Snakes"!

Since Murong Baoding was being overly arrogant, Chai Qingshan, seizing the advantage, showed no mercy. He cleaved down with a sword, like a long rainbow stretching over a waterfall. Sword energy surged before Murong Baoding, resembling a hanging cascade. Murong Baoding took a deep breath, finally no longer hoping to simply endure with his priceless armor and Vajra physique. He unleashed punches as swift as thunder, each one striking the waterfall of dense sword energy, creating resounding impacts. His fists shattered the sword energy, creating an effect like scattered clouds or melting snow.

Chai Qingshan remained unconcerned. He moved swiftly forward with small steps, thrusting his sword straight ahead. Although his three-foot-long sword "Green Water" aimed directly at Murong Baoding's glabella, simultaneously, between the two, no fewer than forty streams of sword energy emanated from around the Green Water sword. Each stream surged forward independently, yet their sword intent was of a single origin. Chai Qingshan had comprehended this sword technique in his thirties, inspired by observing a spring. In the former territory of Eastern Yue, there was the world's third-ranked spring, as noted by the Great Feng Tea Sage. Midway, its flow was obstructed by a protruding rock, causing the water to momentarily hesitate and splash, with hundreds of fine rivulets flowing into the spring pool. Chai Qingshan once told his two proud disciples that when this sword was practiced to its extreme, it could unleash eighty swords in a single breath, turning a Vajra into dust. Regrettably, at this moment and in this place, the sword grandmaster could only generate forty swords in a single breath, but even so, the sword's momentum was immensely grand and terrifying.

Murong Baoding snorted in anger and actually showed signs of retreating. As his bulky figure rapidly withdrew, he extended an arm, his five fingers like hooks, and manipulated his vital energy to snatch a horse and rider, pulling them to block the long curtain of sword rain created by the immense sword energy. Chai Qingshan's sword pierced the warhorse's head. With a slight flick of his wrist, the unfortunate horse and rider were instantly dismembered and scattered. Seizing this momentary opening, Murong Baoding, after all, was one of Northern Mang's few martial grandmasters. He stamped his foot heavily, then took half a step back, his entire aura instantly reaching its peak. Anticipating that Chai Qingshan would inevitably continue his charge, he swung a fist into the air before him, and the fist aura exploded, tearing through the air.

Faced with Murong Baoding's all-out, domineering fist aura, Chai Qingshan, a lone figure with his sword, continued to advance unhesitatingly. The old man merely shifted his body slightly, allowing the fist aura to shatter his left shoulder. His sword, swift as a startling rainbow, precisely pierced Murong Baoding's chest. It was a trade of injury for injury, a life for a life. Murong Baoding settled his vital energy in his dantian. At that instant, he found himself utterly incapable of counterattacking and chose to desperately defend. His internal vital energy circulated rapidly, and his face took on a dull yellow hue. His feet rooted to the earth, he stood as unmoving as a mountain. The three-foot green blade, with its sword energy, broke through the armor, unstoppable. After the sword tip pressed against Murong Baoding's chest, the long sword bent, instantly resembling a crescent moon, and finally almost a full moon! Chai Qingshan, his shoulder shattered and covered in blood, laughed loudly, "Begone!" The powerfully built Murong Baoding was flung back by this sword, crashing away like a kite with a broken string!

After hitting the ground hard, Murong Baoding's face was slightly pale. He didn't look down, but kept his eyes fixed on the aged swordsman. He merely wiped his hand across his chest, and his palm was scarlet. Chai Qingshan, trapped amidst the Northern Mang cavalry encirclement, had no choice but to use his sword to cut down the swarming, desperate horsemen. Thus, the line of sight between the two was obstructed.

Murong Baoding seized the opportunity to slap the ground with his palm, getting back to his feet, feeling a degree of lingering fear. This old fellow was truly troublesome! Unwilling to clash head-on again, Murong Baoding continually retreated, then furiously roared, "Ram him to death!" With Chai Qingshan at the center, the Northern Mang iron cavalry began a rapid charge, crashing forward. The cavalrymen on the outermost ring finally had a chance to display their prairie horsemanship and archery skills. The high-ranking commander, whose heart was filled with terror, had already given a desperate order: kill everyone, friend or foe!

Chai Qingshan's sword moved like a swimming dragon, as he simultaneously blocked the cavalry charge and broke through the arrow rain. Even while trapped in a deadly situation, the old man still tried to break through the cavalry formation to pursue the Juzizhou envoy who was avoiding battle. However, the wound on his chest, agitated by his vital energy, caused his blood to turn a bizarre bluish-black. He was just a hair's breadth away from breaking out of the encirclement formed by Northern Mang cavalrymen piling up their lives.

Murong Baoding, having retreated again and again, was now in front of the Winter Thunder elite cavalry. His face was distorted with fury, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. If not for the potent venom on Li Feng's "Willow Branch" sword, he might indeed have been chased all the way here by Chai Qingshan. It wasn't that he would lose; Murong Baoding still had confidence in slowly exhausting the old wretch to death. However, how could the life of Chai Qingshan, a man destined to die, be compared to his, Murong Baoding's, life? His attention was more focused on Wei Miao. If that fellow tried to abandon the doomed Chai Qingshan and retreat to Jubei City, Murong Baoding, despite his injuries, was absolutely confident he could stop him.

Looking north from the top of Jubei City wall, or south from the high vantage point of the Winter Thunder elite cavalry, one could see the large circle where the old man stood, with layers upon layers of Northern Mang cavalry constantly charging towards its center.

Chai Qingshan stood alone, sword in hand, surrounded by dead bodies and piles of bones.

Murong Baoding suddenly looked up. An explosive sound abruptly rang out, and then a figure descended from the air. Murong Baoding could only hastily tilt his head, crossing his arms to block above him. Murong Baoding was struck by this punch with such force that half his body was driven into the ground! It turned out that Wei Miao had directly leaped over the Northern Mang cavalry, finding Murong Baoding directly, completely disregarding any thought of retreat.

Murong Baoding instinctively used his arms to protect his head. Indeed, Wei Miao pressed one hand against Murong Baoding's head and delivered a knee strike! Murong Baoding was sent backward by the impact, plowing a deep trench several feet long. Dust flew, and amidst the yellow sand, Wei Miao's punches were so fast that one only saw a blur of afterimages, while Murong Baoding, in his silver armor, retreated again and again.

Wei Miao's punches rose powerfully and landed hard, with strength like a snapping bowstring, like exploding thunder! He forcibly breached Murong Baoding's defenses, hitting him repeatedly! Finally, Wei Miao's fist stance resembled "Cradling an Infant." The name of the move didn't sound fierce, but it was actually the most incomparably ferocious. Veteran grandmasters of fist arts had long since concluded that one needed to practice this move tens of thousands of times to truly see its foundation, until its power was refined to the finest thread! Wei Miao was obsessed with practicing his fists, never slacking for a moment due to his outstanding talent. He had learned this move since his youth, diligently practicing it day after day, felling giant trees in mountains, and striking rivers in water. He had probably thrown millions of punches by then!

One punch was like smashing a giant bell, producing a colossal roar. After being flung back by Chai Qingshan's sword, Murong Baoding, who had possessed favorable timing, terrain, and human factors, was once again sent flying dozens of yards by Wei Miao's punch. Dozens of Winter Thunder elite cavalry, unable to dodge in time, were instantly struck dead! This Nanzhao martial grandmaster, who should have shone brilliantly in the Central Plains martial world, instead, on the battlefield outside Jubei City, and in the sight of thousands of Northern Mang cavalry, battered Murong Baoding into an utterly pathetic state, his vital energy fluctuating wildly! He struck Murong Baoding until his treasured armor was dented and pitted, almost completely ruined!

Murong Baoding, his body swaying precariously, roared, "Again!" Wei Miao followed like a shadow. He extended his left arm, reaching around to Murong Baoding's ear, placing his palm against his temple. With a seemingly light tap, Murong Baoding, far taller than Wei Miao, was lifted off his feet. Wei Miao's right fist then struck Murong Baoding's abdomen like an exploding thunderclap. The body that was initially flying backward was pulled back by Wei Miao's left hand, and another punch struck his abdomen. That scene was both comical and tragic. Murong Baoding's body, tilted and suspended in the air, never touched the ground. He was thus driven forward by Wei Miao, step by step, with punch after punch landing on his abdomen.

Wei Miao's final punch, also the last punch of his life, landed heavily on Murong Baoding's abdomen, which was now a bloody mess after his treasured armor shattered. Murong Baoding finally hit the ground, flung seven or eight yards away, bleeding from all seven orifices. His so-called "indestructible body," even with the protection of his treasured armor, had become a colossal joke.

Wei Miao stood proudly in place, slowly turning his head to look back. He glanced at the circular cavalry formation but could not see Chai Qingshan, who had fought alongside him until this point. He raised his gaze slightly, looking towards Jubei City, knowing he was destined not to see that graceful figure again. Wei Miao's vision gradually blurred as blood streamed from his eyes.

After falling to the ground, Murong Baoding tried to struggle to his feet, but it was in vain; he continuously vomited blood. He knew perfectly well that Wei Miao had been mere punches away from ending his life. If they had fought fairly, Murong Baoding would have had no way to contend with Wei Miao. At this moment, Murong Baoding no longer harbored any thoughts of dominating the Central Plains martial world in the future. Murong Baoding attempted to get up three times but gave up midway each time, eventually collapsing helplessly to the ground, his face pale and drained of color, having completely lost all combat ability. This Northern Mang envoy, whose ambitions were higher than the heavens, wore a bitter expression and cursed softly, "Damn the Central Plains martial world!"

Not far away, Wei Miao stood motionless and silent. Wei Miao, the Nanzhao grandmaster, lay with all his meridians severed, dead but still standing! "If Wei Miao's fists are supreme in the world," he thought, "then how could I, Wei Miao, fear death and retract my fists? There's no such logic. She is watching."

Before Wei Miao's heroic death, an eerie stillness fell upon the Northern Mang cavalry's encirclement. The old man had already struck terror into their hearts, and the bodies of cavalrymen and warhorses had formed a natural chevaux de frise, hindering further cavalry charges. The aged swordsman, impaled by several arrows, spat out a mouthful of black blood. He knelt on one knee, using his long sword as a prop to keep himself from falling. Chai Qingshan absolutely refused to die on his knees or to fall to the ground. He ultimately sat cross-legged, his sword laid across his knees.

Since the sword was named "Green Water," its blade naturally emanated a vibrant green hue, like the spring light of Jiangnan in the Central Plains. The sword's shimmering light under the sun resembled the ripples on the Eastern Yue Sword Pond, stirred by the spring breeze. Chai Qingshan gently wiped the black blood from the blade with his sleeve. As the old man faced death, he smiled faintly, his voice trembling, "My Eastern Yue Sword Pond, founded five hundred years ago, watches over the martial world with its sword... Mountains are high, waters deep, sword energy long! I, Chai Qingshan... have never brought shame upon my three-foot sword!"

Following Cheng Baishuang and Sui Xiegou, two Central Plains grandmasters:Chai Qingshan died heroically in battle.Wei Miao followed, quietly embracing death.