Chapter 68: Spring Under Heaven
Qi Jingchun's enormous dharma form, pure white and ethereal, sat solemnly at the northernmost edge of the East Treasure Vase Continent.
The sea of clouds rolled and surged, slowly pressing downward, drawing closer and closer to Qi Jingchun's head.
Qi Jingchun looked up, a carefree smile on his face.
Above the sea of clouds, a majestic voice rang out: "Qi Jingchun, know that the Heavenly Dao is impartial! As a Confucian scholar, it is understandable that you feel compassion for Li Pearl Cave Heaven. If you change your mind now, there is still room for leniency."
Accompanying the words of this celestial immortal, thunder seemed to roll swiftly through the sea of clouds. Those fleeting flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder continuously seeped out from the bottom of the cloud sea.
Speak the law, and it follows.
Another immortal laughed scornfully: "Why waste words with this bookworm! If he wants to perform earth-shattering feats, he first has to ask whether my fist agrees!"
At the same time, a massive golden hand reached down into the sea of clouds, swept aside the thick clouds, revealing a hole. A beam of light fell before Qi Jingchun's dharma form.
From the west, a Buddhist chant arose, a voice of compassion: "Benefactor Qi, calm your mind in one thought, and you will instantly transcend the Buddha's realm."
Qi Jingchun said solemnly: "After the Dragon-Slaying War, the small town enjoyed three thousand years of great fortune. Later generations produced many outstanding talents, but this was merely a method of borrowing from the future. Since it was a rule established by four sages, and the earliest cultivators who chose to settle in Li Pearl Cave Heaven had no objections, I, Qi Jingchun, naturally have no right to interfere in this matter. Now that the Heavenly Dao wants to suppress this realm, let it come. It's just that I, Qi Jingchun alone, will bear this calamity in place of the townspeople. The Heavenly Dao and its rules have not fallen on empty ground. So why do you all stop me?"
The immortal who had stirred the cloud sea into a great hole laughed heartily: "Haha, Qi, do you truly not know the reason, or are you playing the fool?"
At some point, Qi Jingchun had extended one hand, his palm transforming into a fist, loosely grasping the bead that contained a small cave heaven.
Within his palm, inside the cave heaven, above the small town, it must have been a scene of profound wonder, where daylight suddenly turned to night.
At this moment, that snow-white hand protecting Li Pearl Cave Heaven seemed to suffer an invisible assault from all directions. It sizzled, with white electric arcs constantly splashing and blooming from the back of the hand. "Snowflakes"—seemingly as small as feathers but in truth as large as mountains—continuously fell from Qi Jingchun's hand, dropping toward the mortal world, but before they could land, they vanished into thin air.
The cloud immortal, sitting high near the hole in the cloud sea, mocked loudly: "Little Confucian scholar, defying the great Dao, overestimating yourself! Let me play with you first!"
If one looked from the far distance of the East Treasure Vase Continent and could break through the concealment formation jointly created by the immortals, one would faintly see a most magnificent scene. From the vast hole in the cloud sea, first a black dot appeared, falling straight down, then a sword tip, and finally the full form revealed itself—a "miniature" flying sword, about the length of a finger on Qi Jingchun's dharma form.
The first sword had just appeared, and a second followed behind it, falling from another place. Third and fourth swords descended from the heavenly cloud sea to the mortal world, a total of twelve flying swords.
They lined up in a row, hovering in the high sky.
Like a cavalry formation, reins held tight, waiting only for the order to charge and break through the enemy lines.
Above the cloud sea, a golden giant sat casually cross-legged, his huge golden eyes open. His fists rested on his knees. His right fist slowly extended an index finger, then flicked it.
One flying sword shot toward Qi Jingchun's arm, the one holding the loosely clenched fist.
The sword fell as fast as lightning, leaving a continuous trail of clouds in its wake.
The flying sword instantly pierced through the arm of Qi Jingchun's dharma form. When it was only a hair's breadth from the ground, it abruptly stopped.
Above the cloud sea, the golden giant's right index finger gently rotated. The flying sword traced an arc and returned to the high sky. At the same time, his left hand tapped his knee, and another sword suspended in the air crashed down, once again piercing Qi Jingchun's arm.
Two fingers alternately rose and fell.
The twelve flying swords fell straight down, returned in arcs.
Rising and falling, over and over again.
After a dense volley of flying swords, Qi Jingchun's arm was riddled with wounds, covered in countless black holes. Compared to the otherwise flawless, gleaming white dharma form, it was shockingly conspicuous.
Qi Jingchun remained calm and composed. Seeing that another wave of flying sword attacks was about to commence, a new round of assault.
Truly pressing and relentless.
Qi Jingchun spoke four words as lightly as the wind and clouds: "Spring breeze elates."
One flying sword still stabbed straight at Qi Jingchun's arm. But this time, before it could pierce into the arm, it seemed like a pine needle blown askew by a clear breeze. Not just this sword, but the other eleven swords also failed without exception. They circled around Qi Jingchun's dharma form, following some predetermined trajectory, flying slowly, their blades trembling, waiting for an opportunity, emitting faint hissing sounds.
Not only that, but a spring breeze permeated heaven and earth, imperceptibly holding up the descending sea of clouds.
That golden giant bared his chest, exuding a bold and unrestrained aura. Looking down from on high, he saw that the twelve flying swords could find no opening. He was somewhat surprised: "Huh?"
Qi Jingchun didn't pay much attention to these flying swords, which were immensely powerful against mortal cultivators. He kept his gaze fixed on that loosely clenched fist.
There is a saying: "old and yellow as a pearl." The Li Pearl Cave Heaven, a bead suspended above the East Treasure Vase Continent, had already existed for three thousand years. Originally, sixty years from now, under the next sage, Ruan Qiong, the outer shell that wrapped and protected the bead would completely shatter, like a piece of porcelain losing all its glaze. Then the Heavenly Dao would crush down, inevitably and unstoppably. Although no one would die on the spot, everyone in the town would lose their afterlife. Qi Jingchun had specifically consulted Buddhist scriptures for this and even inferred a terrifying consequence: the more than six thousand people of the town, used as "scapegoats" to bear the Heavenly Dao's wrath, might fall into the Hungry Ghost Path of the Western Buddhist Paradise for countless lifetimes, never to be liberated.
The military cultivator and sword forger, Ruan Qiong, as the last sage stationed in Li Pearl Cave Heaven, would at that time have the duty not to protect the townspeople, but to prevent anyone from escaping this Heavenly Dao punishment.
The golden giant's voice boomed like a drum, rumbling across the sky as he laughed: "Someone said you, Qi Jingchun, are not simple. You have two life-character words: besides 'Spring,' there is also 'Stillness,' which breaks the rules. Come, come, let me witness it!"
Every time the giant said the word "come," he slammed his fist against his knee.
After three times, the sea of clouds churned violently like boiling water in a pot.
At the bottom of the cloud sea, the previously invisible clear breeze also shook, light becoming chaotic, alternating between dark and bright.
The giant said: "You have your spring breeze, and I have a Dharma Rain of flying swords to pour cold water on you!"
After his words, countless golden threads penetrated the cloud sea and seeped through the clear breeze.
Compared to the giant's body, those golden threads were like tiny embroidery needles the length of a fingernail. But they were densely packed, thousands upon thousands, and when gathered together, their momentum was breathtaking and terrifying.
Qi Jingchun still gazed at his fist. Hearing this, his expression didn't change. He said softly: "Good rain knows its season, when spring arrives, it comes."
Then, from the ground around his solemnly seated dharma form, raindrops burst forth. Each drop, seemingly negligible and tiny, was in fact as large as a pond.
Then these continuously emerging raindrops, defying common sense, slid upward toward the sky with a splash.
A rain curtain hung upside down.
All because of the verse silently recited by the Confucian sage Qi Jingchun.
The golden, resplendent Dharma Rain of flying swords descended from above. The spring rain curtain rising from the earth soared upward.
They collided fiercely!
The spectacle above was magnificent, but Qi Jingchun neither saw, nor heard, nor spoke of it.
Around Qi Jingchun's fist, lightning dragons appeared out of thin air, crashing onto the back of his hand.
The lightning came in three colors: scarlet, purple-green, and snow-white. They seemed chaotic but were clearly distinct, not intertwining, but instead weaving into three separate nets.
The dharma form's fist shed fragments in all directions, drifting feathers, continuously diminishing.
Qi Jingchun said softly: "Wind calm, waves still."
Among the three-colored lightning, only the snow-white lightning abruptly stopped moving, while the other two continued according to their rules. This caused a scarlet lightning bolt to crash into and break a snow-white one, while a purple-green lightning bolt entangled the scarlet one. The vast heavenly net, which was supposed to be all-encompassing but not leaking, became disordered and confused.
Above the cloud sea, an aged voice rang out leisurely: "Movement and stillness have laws!"
But in an instant, the three lightning nets, which had become chaotic, restored their grand heavenly might, chaotic but orderly.
They repeatedly hammered and struck at the fist of Qi Jingchun's dharma form.
Qi Jingchun sighed softly.
"These little skirmishes are enough. Qi Jingchun, dare you take this fist of mine?"
A golden fist descended from the hole in the cloud sea, aiming for Qi Jingchun's head.
Qi Jingchun's free right hand raised high, palm upward, blocking the crushing blow.
Qi Jingchun's dharma form plummeted a hundred zhang, but the sea of clouds was also lifted a hundred zhang by a stirring breeze.
It was as if a distance of two hundred zhang had opened up between heaven and earth.
"Again!"
The golden immortal's fists fell one after another, each strike with the force of thunder, powerful enough that no five-peaked sacred mountain in any dynasty of the East Treasure Vase Continent could withstand it.
The snow-white dharma form of Qi Jingchun simply raised its arm, holding it high.
First, the palm of the dharma form was smashed into a deep crater, then the entire palm shattered with a boom. Following that, the arm was broken piece by piece by the golden fist.
Despite the severe damage to his dharma form, Qi Jingchun remained unmoved. All his attention was still focused on his left hand, the one loosely clenched into a fist.
From the fist, spreading to the entire arm, then to the shoulder, were covered in Taoist talismans crawling with lightning. Each character was as large as a house.
The aged voice continued: "Don't be stubborn. Qi Jingchun, if you are willing, you can follow me in cultivation."
Qi Jingchun turned his head slightly, lowered his gaze to the arm riddled with holes, now covered in the supreme prophetic talismans written by the Taoist sect's leader sage—truly an execution in the name of Heaven.
Qi Jingchun gently exhaled a breath and said solemnly: "Clear and still..."
The aged voice revealed a tremor of anger: "Qi Jingchun, how dare you!"
A furious shout forcefully drowned out the two words that followed "Clear and still."
High in the sky, two fingers joined together as a sword. They easily broke through the sea of clouds and slashed downward!
They directly severed Qi Jingchun's arm—the one making a fist—at the shoulder!
From far away, there was an almost imperceptible sigh, full of regret.
A Confucian sage does not transgress boundaries.
Qi Jingchun should not have crossed that Taoist thunder pool.
After the finger-sword successfully cut off Qi Jingchun's arm, it seemed the master's anger was not yet sated. The two fingers quickly retracted into the sea of clouds, not stopping there, but instead stabbing at an even faster speed toward that suspended fist—now like a tree without roots, water without a source.
Qi Jingchun withdrew his right arm, of which only half remained above the head, and quickly placed it above the bead, gathering it toward himself, protecting it before his body.
The immortal's two fingers pressed forward unstoppably, without any suspense piercing through the arm of Qi Jingchun's dharma form. The golden giant's fist from the hole landed squarely on the head of Qi Jingchun's dharma form.
Qi Jingchun's dharma form tottered on the verge of collapse.
Even though it was broken and missing limbs, its wide sleeves still fluttered, carrying the grace of a scholar. Yet the more it showed such elegance, the more tragic and unbearable it appeared.
Another punch to the head, and Qi Jingchun's dharma form continued to sink.
Punch after punch, as if the immortal wouldn't stop until he had driven this scholar deep into the ground.
The battered and broken dharma form desperately protected the fist before it, that bead, that Li Pearl Cave Heaven, those townspeople who would greet him as "Mr. Qi" whenever they met.
The lips of the dharma form moved slightly, silently reciting: "The constellations revolve in sequence, the sun and moon shine in turn, the four seasons govern in succession, yin and yang transform greatly, wind and rain bestow widely, all things obtain their harmony to live, obtain their nourishment to grow..."
Inside the small cave heaven.
In the village school, not a single child was present.
A Confucian scholar in blue robes sat alone. Not only were his temples frosty white, but his hair was also completely white.
The scholar bled from his seven orifices, his flesh and blood a blur.
His soul was shattered, more thoroughly than a piece of pottery thrown heavily to the ground.
The scholar wore an expression of extreme exhilaration. He closed his eyes and smiled, passing away peacefully.
In this world, there is me, Qi Jingchun.
The world is joyful, and I am joyful too.
That year, in this world, spring departed very late, and summer arrived very late.