Chapter 52: Shook
The old ape stepped in front of the young woman in a single bound, raising his arm and clenching his fist, then swinging it down in a full arc toward her head.
The young woman raised her green-sheathed narrow saber to block, the blade pointing directly at the old ape's wrist, while her long sword in the other hand thrust fiercely toward his heart, the tip aimed precisely at a single point over his chest.
Unexpectedly, the old ape's rough, sweeping swing transformed as his fingers dexterously gripped the saber's blade. At the same time, his other hand, acting entirely in accordance with his true nature and instincts, seized the sword's tip tightly.
It was obvious that the murderous aggression was a feint, designed to bait the young woman into recklessly thrusting her sword.
The Mountain-Moving Ape, who hailed from the Sword Dao holy land of Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, recognized at a glance that this sword was something extraordinary.
For this reason, the old ape did not hesitate to exchange his breath a second time.
Even though the sword tip had already pierced the skin of his chest and was less than an inch away from stabbing into his heart.
Seeing the situation turn unfavorable, Ning Yao decisively released her grip on the sword handle. She yanked hard on the saber, the blade scraping across the old ape's palm with a piercing screech of metal.
After pulling the saber free, the young woman leaned back and, without pausing, retreated rapidly.
Sure enough, the old ape turned sideways, and with a flick of the hand holding the sword tip, he hurled the long sword dozens of yards away.
He then kicked out at the young woman.
The young woman raised her right hand, which had been holding the sword, but the old ape's kick connected. With a thunderous crash, her entire body flew back seven or eight yards, landing heavily on her back and rolling several times. She managed to stop herself by jamming the saber tip into the ground, driving it a full foot into the dirt. Fortunately, the soil along the creek path was soft, and the occasional stones were round and not sharp, so her back was spared from being torn to bloody shreds.
Giving her no chance to catch her breath, the massive figure descended from above like a falling mountain.
This time, the young woman didn't even bother to draw the narrow saber. She simply retreated again and again.
The old ape did not pursue her. Instead, after landing, he stood still, raising one foot high and planting it on the hilt of the saber that was stuck in the road. When the young woman rose to one knee and looked up, he pressed down harder, stomping the entire narrow saber deep into the ground until the hilt was level with the surface.
A stream of purple-gold aura flowed slowly across the old ape's face, glaringly bright in the deep night. He sneered, "You practice both the saber and the sword—neither donkey nor horse, neither fish nor fowl. This is the pitiful result!"
The young woman stood up, forcing down a mouthful of blood. "Is that all you've got?"
The old ape shook his head with a laugh. "That was just giving you another chance."
Ning Yao took a deep breath and said solemnly, "In my homeland, life-and-death battles never care about who one's parents are. If you have the skill to kill me fair and square, then I'm simply outmatched. If my parents learn the circumstances later, at most they'll come to Eastern Treasured Vial Continent to settle accounts with you—they won't involve Bright Yang Mountain. So you can rest assured, fight with all your might..."
This was the first time the old ape had heard the young woman speak so much, so fluently, a stark contrast to the silent, veiled girl in his memory.
So when a chill ran down the back of his neck, he instantly twisted his head aside.
A streak of white light grazed past his neck, the sword edge leaving a shallow wound.
If he hadn't turned, even if it couldn't have pierced through his neck entirely, it would have been a serious injury. That would have been a real case of capsizing in a ditch—one misstep leading to a cascade of errors. And if he'd been forced to reveal his true form prematurely, he would lose all moral high ground, leaving no room to bargain with Qi Jingchun and Ruan Qiong. He might even endanger his young mistress, forcing her to face all kinds of crises alone in this world. At that thought, the old ape of Bright Yang Mountain finally grew angry for the third time.
The flying sword did not return to its sheath but instead circled rapidly around the young woman, as if currying favor and seeking praise from its master.
Seeing this, the old ape's fury turned into a mocking laugh. "Fine, fine, fine! Since the fight with Song Changjing was unsatisfying, I'll have a good romp with you now! But do you think your few pounds of flesh can withstand many heavy blows?!"
The young woman carefully observed the purple-gold aura on the old ape's face, her brows slightly furrowed. Contrary to her expectation that things would only go so far three times, the old ape, even after using his divine abilities three times, clearly still had some reserve, not enough to collapse the dikes of his major acupoints and force him to manifest his true body. Moreover, the loss of lifespan, while extremely lethal to martial artists below the fifth realm, was certainly painful for a Mountain-Moving Ape, but not as fatal as it would be for others.
The young woman flicked her fingers, and the long sword spun lightly in response. She smiled. "No wonder my father said that your Bright Yang Mountain in Eastern Treasured Vial Continent is nothing worth mentioning—always big talk and low swordsmanship, fools with courage and shallow sword aura."
The old ape's beard and hair bristled. He roared, "You're asking for death!"
He charged at the insolent young woman.
Ning Yao did not linger in the fight. She fled northward.
Along the way, it was a series of hairbreadth escapes. If not for that flying sword, which had gained the two characters 'Qi Chong Dou Niu' from the plaque—both sword aura and divine intent surging simultaneously—and which was telepathically linked to the young woman, able to move where her mind directed and strike where her will pointed, the sword itself acting like a lawless existence, the old ape's thunderous assaults would have been repeatedly thwarted, allowing the master to escape by a hair's breadth each time.
If a sword cultivator had painstakingly nurtured a lifebound sword item so perfectly attuned to their will, the old ape wouldn't have been surprised. But he clearly sensed that the unsheathed long sword was by no means the strange young woman's lifebound flying sword.
It was more like an ordinary martial artist roaming the Jianghu, wielding a convenient "divine weapon," caring only that the blade was sharp enough. She hadn't walked the path of a sword cultivator, nurturing a sword heart and gestating a sword spirit. Yet her strangeness lay in the fact that she wasn't entirely a martial artist's approach either. For a martial grandmaster focused on refining the physique, the goal was "when heaven and earth crumble, my body endures." If the weapon overshadowed the wielder, that would degenerate into a heretical path.
During the entire chase, the old ape had failed to capture the young woman—partly due to the flying sword's interference, and partly because her training was a hodgepodge, combining sword cultivator, martial artist, and qi practitioner in one, with a pure and durable aura. The old ape simply couldn't figure out which sect in Eastern Treasured Vial Continent could have produced such an odd junior. So he grew increasingly cautious in his attacks, trying to determine her origins and background.
As long as he didn't get near that small town, no matter how chaotic it was over there, he had no worries on this side.
The young woman, fleeing in all directions, grew paler and paler.
"Running on fumes!" The old ape grinned ferociously. "Let alone whether you can make it back to the town—even if you succeed and someone helps you, do you really think I can't kill you?"
With a leap like a fish jumping from a dry pond, the old ape ignored the flying sword entirely, vaulting over the young woman's head and landing on her path. He turned to block her way north, then punched the flying sword over a hundred yards away. But the stubborn sword, with a whoosh, instantly returned, stabbing at the old ape's head. When he tried to seize the sword and trap it in his grip, it seemed to foresee the move and slyly retreated, never lingering. The flying sword came and went like the wind, impossible to defend against. Even the old ape, with his thick skin and resistance to injury, looked somewhat disheveled.
The young woman didn't want to confront the old ape head-on, so she angled her path and ran northeast.
The old ape moved sideways to match her, constantly keeping her under pressure.
With a slap, he knocked aside the flying sword that streaked in from the side, like swatting a fly. He drove the sword two feet into the ground. The sword twisted like a woman swaying her waist, struggling to pull itself out of the dirt. Hovering in midair, its tip trembled violently like an enraged wildcat cub, then hurtled toward the old ape once more with fierce momentum.
Annoyed beyond measure, the old ape couldn't help but ask, "How can this flying sword ignore this world's laws? What relation do you have to Qi Jingchun or Ruan Qiong?!"
Ning Yao almost had the old ape's palm press down on her forehead. As she leaned back, she reached out and grabbed the flying sword's hilt. Then she was yanked out of the old ape's striking range, dragged backward like someone pulling her by the arm.
After being pulled some distance by the flying sword, the young woman, for some reason, didn't take the chance to retreat all the way into the town. Instead, she stopped, straightened up, tilted her head, and spat out a mouthful of blood. The flying sword hovered beside her, buzzing, like a puzzled child chattering incessantly to an elder.
The young woman pressed her right hand to her left shoulder.
The old ape suddenly slowed his pace and laughed loudly. "Just as I thought! This flying sword that recognizes you as its master can indeed break the rules. But in the end, a flying sword is just a flying sword. No matter how mystical and spiritual, it's still inferior to you commanding it yourself. Unfortunately, both your body and soul were severely injured in the town and haven't fully recovered, so you can't bear to fully control it. That's why your attacks are intermittent, left to the sword's own initiative. Since you never intended to truly wound me, your defensive moves to save your life have to be directed by your will."
The young woman finally spoke again. "You talk too much."
Her lips were blood-red, her face snow-white, clad in a dark green robe.
In the dead of night, she looked like a female ghost wandering through the village and fields.
The old ape walked forward step by step, clicking his tongue. "All you have is a good sword, but your physique is frail. Weak trunk, strong branches—how pitiful! You and that boy from the alley did everything to make me exchange breaths, so this world would counterattack. Little girl, why don't you guess now: after I use up this third breath and switch to a new one, will it actually provoke Heaven and Earth's wrath? And can I withstand that reverse flow of seawater?"
The young woman suddenly wore an amused expression. With a light tap of her toes, she leaped backward, no higher than a yard, no farther than half a yard.
The old ape, who had been about to pursue, found it odd and, wary of a trick, continued walking slowly, determined to watch and wait.
Then, as her body rose into the air, she tapped her toes again. This time, the force was a bit stronger, and her ankle twisted, so instead of leaping straight back, she bounced off to the right.
What happened next: just as the young woman's body began to descend, the flying sword swept under her feet at the highest point of her arc, allowing her to precisely borrow force each time, retreating higher and farther.
Even the world-weary old ape stared, dumbfounded. The scene before him was bizarre and comical.
The young woman, like a little fawn hopping across a grid, bounced up and down repeatedly, exuding an air of lightness and agility, quickly disappearing into the night sky.
Perhaps fearing that the old ape would ambush her mid-leap, her hops were wildly erratic, darting left and right, high and low, forward and back.
The old ape twitched the corner of his mouth, his eyes complex. "A fine 'antelope hanging by its horns' indeed."
But the old ape didn't just watch her flee. With a flick of his toe, he casually picked up a pebble, held it in his palm, and hurled it ferociously at the airborne young woman.
Pebble after pebble was flicked up from the ground by the old ape's feet, and in his hand, they rocketed out with the momentum of wind and thunder.
Though most stones missed, seven or eight still posed a great threat to the young woman, forcing her to command the flying sword to shatter them.
Boom after boom echoed in the night sky, like spring thunder bursting forth.
The old ape's eyes darkened.
The girl was either insane or stubbornly thick-headed. She could have flown the sword in one breath and risen to a height where the stones would lose their force.
But she deliberately maintained roughly the same altitude, like a light cavalry patrolling the edge of a battlefield, baiting the enemy archers to waste arrows and strength.
Unknowingly, she had neared the western side of the town.
The old ape roughly estimated his remaining aura—not much left. He deliberately picked two stones as big as a child's fist, one in each hand. Taking a step forward, he swung his arm, his bulging muscles rising alarmingly. As the stones shot through the air, they hissed and crackled, trailing a long chain of sparks—unusual, like a slender fire dragon soaring into the sky.
The old ape bellowed, "Get down here!"
High above, a brilliant flash of lightning lit up, followed by the crack of spring thunder.
The young woman groaned, and her body began to fall and tumble.
The flying sword, wobbling like a drunkard, wailed and sobbed, but still desperately rushed toward its master.
The old ape didn't even glance at the young woman or the sword. Instead, he squinted at the rooftops on the west side of the town. When a dark figure moved, the old ape stomped his other foot heavily, flinging the last stone in his hand with a whistling roar. He laughed heartily, "He who saves dies first!"
The young woman coughed blood and shouted, "Don't come out!"
Already heavily injured, she couldn't bear to look. In that moment, she felt a surge of despair. Struggling, she grabbed the sword hilt. When one arm gave out, she quickly switched hands, repeating the process to slow her descent.
Ning Yao hadn't expected that her own cleverness would get that boy killed.
The boy, wearing straw sandals, carrying a bamboo basket and a fish trap, came and went like the wind every day, busy earning money and decocting medicine.
Ning Yao felt that such a boy shouldn't die like this. It wasn't right!
After the young woman landed unsteadily, she pressed two fingers together like a sword, touching her forehead at the brow. Gritting her teeth, she said, "Come out! Cut open this world for me!"
A thin, golden line appeared on her brow, spreading downward gradually.
Like a celestial opening his heavenly eye!
Beneath the ancient arch bridge, now a covered bridge.
A rusty old sword, its tip pointing into a deep pool for who knows how many millennia, stirred as if awakened from slumber. It yawned.
The rusted sword tip shook gently.
And so the covered bridge shook.
The entire creek shook.
The whole small world shook.
Deep in the mountains, Qi Jingchun, travel-worn, emerged from the hills with a few companions. This teacher, strolling leisurely along the mountain path, lifted one foot as if to stomp down heavily, then smiled and gently set it down.
Old Man Yang in the back courtyard of the Yang family shop, dozing by the oil lamp, startled awake and tapped the table with his old tobacco pipe.
Song Changjing, the Great Li vassal king, inexplicably jumped up in his office and cursed.
In a sword-forging workshop, Ruan Qiong, who had been hammering, actually missed a strike. The ponytailed girl holding the sword blank was utterly shocked.
Ma Kuxuan, the boy from Apricot Flower Lane everyone thought was a fool, who had been lying on the roof gazing at the night sky, suddenly sat up, murderous intent radiating from him.
Just then, a familiar voice rang out urgently, growing louder: "Miss Ning, what are you standing there dumbfounded for?! Run! I'm not dead—that was just a piece of clothing I shed! The old beast has a rotten brain; why are you being stupid too?"
The young woman had been on the verge of losing consciousness, her ritual edict nearly complete, when she suddenly felt as if she were riding clouds and fog. Someone hoisted her onto a shoulder and ran into the town's alleyways.
Ning Yao snapped back to consciousness, her body bouncing up and down against a certain boy's shoulder. It was uncomfortable and even more embarrassing. Completely bewildered, she exclaimed, "Huh?"