Chapter 114: Goodbye, Ah Liang
Ah Liang slashed downward with his blade.
Between him and the White Jade Capital on the high platform, an extremely thin golden thread appeared, advancing swiftly like a tidal bore.
The feudal prince, Song Changjing, did not retreat but advanced instead. He strode forward, his aura instantly surging to the peak of martial arts. With a furious roar, he crossed his arms to block in front of himself.
The square beneath his feet, after being heavily stomped by this second Stopping Realm Grandmaster of the Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, cracked into a massive spiderweb.
Tempering martial arts between life and death was by no means an empty phrase. Back then, as a prince of Dali, Song Changjing had resolutely joined the military. His military career spanned over twenty years, with countless victories and defeats, bitter battles and desperate fights. Ultimately, he managed to stand out among all the martial artists of the entire Eastern Treasured Vial Continent. Song Changjing's choice to face adversity head-on this time was likely one of the reasons.
The golden thread touched Song Changjing's arm. The sleeve of his white robe was instantly slashed, as easily as an iron wire cutting through tender tofu. One must know that Song Changjing's robe was a top-tier Daoist treasure of the Dali Immortals, called the "Flowing Water Robe." It was said to be a precious relic of a fifth-realm above terrestrial Daoist immortal, reputedly capable of blocking all Daoist techniques and divine powers below the fifth-realm above. Yet, against that golden thread condensed from solid sword aura, it proved so fragile.
Although he had lost the protection of external objects, Song Changjing still stubbornly refused to retreat. This man wanted to test whether his martial body, which was said to rival the Golden Body Arhat, could actually withstand this genuine divine blade.
The answer came quickly—it could, but only for the blink of an eye.
Song Changjing still refused to retreat. With another furious roar, his face radiated an unusual golden luster. The flow of energy within his body shifted from the surging torrents of before to a vast scene of instantly frozen waters and a thousand-mile ice-bound region.
The tall figure of the Dali feudal prince was forced back several zhang.
The skin and flesh of his arms had been cut into a tiny trench, yet not a drop of blood appeared. At the same time, the unstoppable golden thread was about to carve into Song Changjing's bones.
"Get out of the way!"
A Daoist talisman general several zhang tall, clad in green armor, knocked Song Changjing several steps away, taking his place.
The talisman general, engraved with countless Daoist golden talisman cloud patterns, radiated spiritual light all over. Its hands tightly gripped the golden thread, which was disproportionate to its massive frame.
It continued to retreat.
In the end, this mountain-character talisman general, meticulously crafted by a major Daoist sect, was split cleanly in two. The golden thread, only slightly dimmed, continued advancing toward the White Jade Capital on the high tower.
After the Daoist puppet general was dismembered, it collapsed with a roar. But behind it appeared an old man in coarse linen clothes, extending a single palm to block the thread.
The old man exuded a decaying aura of old age, yet his face was clearly that of a child, giving a bizarre impression. With a bitter smile on his face, he spoke hoarsely in the dialect of another continent: "Ah Liang, can you stop here?"
Ah Liang frowned. "Luan Changye? Weren't you exiled to the north after failing to compete for the position of Master?"
While blocking the golden thread, blood already seeping from his palm, the old man said helplessly, "It's a long story."
Ah Liang suddenly understood. "I was wondering how someone in Treasured Vial Continent could build such a shoddy miniature White Jade Capital. Turns out it was you."
Luan Changye hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "I once consulted Mr. Qi about constructing this tower."
Ah Liang glanced sidelong at Song Changjing, who was itching to make a move. After a fierce inner struggle, the latter finally gave up the idea of continuing the fight.
Ah Liang turned to Luan Changye, an acquaintance from the Mohist school. With a slight flick of his wrist, the narrow knife Auspicious Sign in his hand swayed lazily, showing clear contempt. In truth, after that single slash, if he had insisted on beating the drowning dog, Song Changjing would have died, Luan Changye could not have stopped him, this White Jade Capital was doomed to collapse, and Dali's national fortune would have regressed at least forty or fifty years. In other words, the benefits Qi Jingchun had brought to Dali's fortunes by building the Mountain Cliff Academy back then would all be taken back by Ah Liang, requiring only one more slash.
Among the Hundred Schools of Thought, the Mohist school held considerable power, divided into three branches. One branch consisted almost entirely of wandering heroes, mostly Qi refiners and sword cultivators. Ah Liang had roamed the jianghu for many years and was a famous ranger across several continents. To be precise, Ah Liang had only met Luan Changye once, and Luan Changye, who had once been only two steps away from becoming a Mohist Master, truly admired and feared Ah Liang. So Ah Liang knew Luan Changye, but not well.
However, Luan Changye's mention of Qi Jingchun made Ah Liang somewhat irritated. He raised Auspicious Sign again, the tip pointing at the old man who had been expelled from the Mohist school, and said angrily, "Qi Jingchun is already dead, and you can still use him as a talisman for Dali and this White Jade Capital? When did you, Luan Changye, get a thicker face than mine?"
A sly smile appeared on Luan Changye's weathered face. He shook his head vigorously. "I can't compare to Senior Ah Liang. Mr. Qi used to say that Senior Ah Liang had exactly the expression you have now."
Ah Liang was dubious about the first sentence. But the second one, he believed.
Ah Liang looked up at the sky, slowly sheathed Auspicious Sign, and glared at the old man. "Don't think I can't see through your stall-for-time tactic."
It was only after Ah Liang sheathed Auspicious Sign that the Dali Emperor, escorted by the old man surnamed Lu, appeared beside Luan Changye.
The Dali Emperor tried to step forward, but the old man in the tall hat grabbed his sleeve and said softly, "Don't be rash."
The man in ceremonial robes smiled and shook his head. He freed himself from the old man's grip and continued forward. After taking more than ten steps, he cupped his fists and said, "Song Zhengchun of Dali pays respects to Senior Ah Liang."
Ah Liang narrowed his eyes and abruptly gripped the knife handle.
In an instant, despair filled everyone's hearts.
The Dali Emperor even closed his eyes with a smile, calmly facing death.
Behind Ah Liang, someone pleaded bitterly, "Ah Liang! You cannot kill him!"
Without turning around, Ah Liang's anger surged even more. "You useless bastard! Since childhood, you always liked to compete with Qi Jingchun over this and that. If you couldn't win, you couldn't win—what's so shameful about that? Why must you resort to these low-class tricks? Do you really think I would spare you out of old affection and not beat you to death?"
Standing behind Ah Liang was a gaunt old man with a tall yet hollow-cheeked frame. He wore a blue robe with a jade pendant, exuding an excellent temperament, like a Confucian sage teaching the people.
The old man's expression was complex as he said softly, "Ah Liang, Qi Jingchun's life's work in his later years was all in Dali."
Ah Liang turned his head, his face dark. "Cui Chan, bullshit! Mountain Cliff Academy is gone, and you still have the nerve to say that to me?"
The old man's gaze was firm. "I am stating a fact. Qi Jingchun truly hoped that Dali could walk a different path. Even if in the end, Qi Jingchun was only disappointed, you cannot deny, Ah Liang, that the person he chose is precisely that child from our Dali's Dragon Spring County!"
The old man lowered his head. "Ah Liang, you yourself said back then that I, Cui Chan, could walk my own path."
Ah Liang sneered. "Arguing with a clever man like you who gets into a rut—I'd rather argue with that little bastard Li Huai."
Ah Liang released his grip on the knife handle. "That old man had many earth-shattering feats in his life, yet in the end, he had to imprison himself in the Merit Grove, ending up in a desolate and lonely miserable state. His life had its ups and downs, and he spent no short time rolling in the mud. Yet the feeling he gave people was still one of cleanliness and gentleness—cleanliness on the outside, gentleness within. Qi Jingchun was the same. But you, Cui Chan—you can't do it. Back then, Qi Jingchun was a one-track mind; you, Cui Chan, learned everything fast. Who would have thought that in the end, Qi Jingchun could fight those old turtles to the point of shaking heaven and earth, while you, Cui Chan, ended up neither human, ghost, spirit, nor immortal? It's your own doing."
Ah Liang smiled. "The last time I saw the old man, he said your ideas were good, but your methods were wrong. He also said that your calligraphy pieces were truly excellent—'The Small Garden Leek Piece' and 'The Yellow Flowers of the World Piece' were really beautiful. If he had known that master and disciple would end up like this, he should have asked you for a few more."
The old man's eyes reddened, and his voice trembled. "So Master also thought he was wrong? Not entirely right?"
Ah Liang rolled his eyes. "Who did I learn my thick face from? The old man never admitted his mistakes verbally. You disciples, who leeched off the old man for so many years, couldn't you just pretend to be fools on purpose? Besides, the old man's heaven-penetrating abilities and his difficulties—others might not know, but you, Cui Chan, know full well. Fine, fine, I can't be bothered to waste words with you. Shut up and get lost. I don't want to see your pathetic look."
The old man staggered, stumbled, and turned to leave. Strange, sobbing laughter echoed across the empty square, adding to the desolation.
Ah Liang looked up at the sky again and cursed like a fishwife, causing everyone to be astounded. "I know, I know! Hurry up, hurry up, hurry your mother's hurry! You're all surnamed Cui just like that bastard Cui Chan! If you have the guts, come down and hit me! Come on!"
Cursing aside, he still had to do what needed to be done.
Ah Liang took off Auspicious Sign, thought for a moment, and tossed it high to Song Changjing. But his words were directed at the Dali Emperor: "I leave this blade here. Your Dali will return it on my behalf to a little girl named Li Baoping. Remember to be respectful to her—she is my friend."
The Dali Emperor smiled and nodded. "No problem."
Ah Liang muttered to himself, "Tsk tsk, riding a horse, drinking wine, carrying a knife, and a gourd—what a handsome scene, truly beautiful. You people of the mortal world will have the good fortune to see it someday."
Song Changjing gripped the narrow blade.
Though it was a knife, it emanated a terrifying aura of surging sword energy, vast and deep as rivers and seas.
Ah Liang hesitated for a moment, not removing the green bamboo scabbard. He stretched his back lazily, even bounced lightly twice, looked up, and laughed, "Come on! You up in the sky, tell me—is the Buddhist Dharma deeper, or the Daoist teachings higher? Whose skill is greater? Whose fist is harder?!"
Beyond the heavens, there was someone who smiled slightly, and someone else who chanted a Buddha's name.
Ah Liang laughed loudly. "Then let me, Ah Liang, fight with you all first!"
This man, who claimed never to know what boasting was, suddenly had his aura surge. From the peak of the twelfth realm of Qi refiners, he instantly soared to the peak of the thirteenth realm. His entire form became like a brilliant pillar of light, rising from the mortal world, directly breaking through the dome of the sky of this Righteous Continent, and finally vanishing into nowhere.
The young man Song Jixin could not bear to look away for a long time. Finally, he noticed that the man in ceremonial robes standing at the very front had his back drenched in sweat that soaked through his bright yellow dragon robe.
The young man couldn't help but look up again. At that moment, he realized that there existed such fierce individuals in the mortal world.
(Chapter End)