Chapter 147: Please Break the Formation
At the cliffside carved with the Heavenly Emperor's reprimand to the flood dragon, three people now stood, along with that woman of peerless sword arts, whose whereabouts remained unknown—only her voice could be heard, not her face seen.
Among them, the most troubled was Cui Minghuang of the Guanhu Academy, whose cultivation was the lowest. Elsewhere, he, the Great Gentleman Cui, would certainly be considered a top-tier immortal, honored as a distinguished guest, with flattery enough to make his ears grow calluses. But unfortunately, tonight, in this place, Cui Minghuang had been reduced to the most inconspicuous ant, perhaps even less than an ant.
This wretched feeling, so foreign to one accustomed to being high and mighty, filled Cui Minghuang with stifled resentment. He had no choice but to silently recite Confucian classics to suppress his stray thoughts.
He glanced at the old man who had descended from the heavenly river of stars to the mortal world aboard a boat. The old man's current disguised identity was that of a former Vice Minister of the Huangting Kingdom, but in truth, he was an ancient flood dragon of terrifying age.
The old man was far more composed than Cui Minghuang at the moment. Stroking his beard with one hand, he watched the sword-qi cage with keen interest, muttering to himself in admiration.
Cui Minghuang had come south in secret on the orders of the Imperial Advisor, to discuss confidential matters with the dormant flood dragon lurking here. The Grand Li Imperial Advisor wanted this old man, temporarily disguised as a former Ministry of Revenue Vice Minister of the Huangting Kingdom, to become the first mountain master of the new academy being built on Piyun Mountain. Cui Minghuang himself would remain the deputy mountain master as previously agreed, along with a sufficiently prestigious literary leader of Grand Li. The three would jointly govern that new academy, which would fill the vacancy left by the Cliffside Academy. Given the Grand Li Emperor's ambition and boldness, the as-yet-unnamed new academy on Piyun Mountain would surely surpass Qi Jingshun's Cliffside Academy in scale and literary vigor.
As for the position of mountain master of the new academy, which had originally been promised to Guanhu Academy, it was said that the Grand Li Emperor had privately offered other compensation.
Before receiving the confidential letter from Imperial Advisor Cui Chan, Cui Minghuang had no idea that such a great flood dragon was hidden in the small pond of the tiny Huangting Kingdom. With the flood dragon race's uniquely resilient physique and innate mastery of water-element divine abilities, even at the tenth realm, its combat strength was absolutely not inferior to that of an eleventh-realm qi cultivator.
The confidential letter from Imperial Advisor Cui Chan revealed that after that earth-shattering, heaven-moving battle of dragon-slaying, in the ancient Shu Kingdom, renowned for its multitude of flood dragons, rivers and mountains had flowed with blood for thousands of miles, everywhere littered with the severed limbs and broken remains of flood dragons—a scene too tragic to behold.
Then, over the long river of time, this extremely ancient flood dragon had concealed itself remarkably well, constantly changing its appearance. It had been a general, a minister, a common peddler, a foot soldier, a military commander, a bold knight—one could say it had experienced every facet of human life and the vicissitudes of the world.
The old flood dragon had little interest in procreation; its offspring were extremely few. In the entire landscape surrounding the Huangting Kingdom, there were only one daughter and two sons. Among them, the youngest son was the water god of the Cold Food River of the Great Water Manor, while the eldest daughter was the founding ancestor of the Ziyang Manor, where Liu Jiahui of the Qiulu Inn resided. However, her true identity had always been kept secret from the outside world. Even among the first-generation direct-lineage disciples of her Ziyang Manor, very few knew of this matter. Now, with the passing of those Ziyang Manor ancestors, the truth had long been buried. As for the old flood dragon's eldest son, his nature was gentle and kind, unlike other flood dragons. Since childhood, he had loved traveling the world. Now, there was no news of him; it was hard to say whether he was still in the Vase Bottle Continent.
The shabby old scholar with a travel bag had just arrived at this mountaintop from the seaside using the Daoist divine ability of "shrinking the earth into an inch." He had never expected to be blocked, and the trouble was indeed not small. This made the old scholar's brow even more furrowed with worry. Because the sword-qi wall rising to the sky had cut off the vital energy of heaven and earth, even the old man could not sense what was outside for the time being.
The old scholar rubbed his chin. "My oh my, are the women outside this fierce nowadays?"
The old man sighed, raised his arm, and with a finger, lightly tapped the void. "Still," he said softly.
In an instant, heaven and earth fell into utter silence. No more roaring of the river, no more faint sounds of the mountain wind shattering against the sword wall.
Within these ten li of mountains and rivers, time no longer flowed.
The aura of a Confucian sage, vast and mighty.
Cui Minghuang's fear turned into ecstasy. He began loudly reciting the teachings of the sages in his heart, thereby increasing his own vast and righteous qi.
For a Confucian gentleman who aspired to become a sage, this was a once-in-a-millennium opportunity.
Even the well-traveled old flood dragon was shocked at this moment. Subconsciously, it stepped back a few paces, putting distance between itself and the unremarkable old scholar. Even though that distance was utterly useless, the old flood dragon still did it, to show an attitude of humility.
In ancient times, before the dragon-slaying, when the old flood dragon was still young, it had heard the elders of its race say that a Confucian sage, whose shrine position in the Confucian temple was second only to the Ultimate Sage, had once established an unwritten rule with the four Dragon Kings: Flood dragons on land must avoid the virtuous and hide when encountering a sage.
There was once a great lake dragon, second only to the four Dragon Kings, who, relying on being in a great lake, stirred up wind and waves in front of a sage traveling by the shore. Deliberately raising the waves higher than the sky above the coastal cities and farmland, it intimidated the common people on the shore, thus provoking the sage. The implication was: "I haven't come ashore, I haven't broken the rule. You, a Confucian sage, what can you do to me?"
At that time, the young flood dragon had just felt that this act was satisfying, only to hear the elder speak with sorrow about the subsequent tragedy. That Confucian sage simply stretched out a finger and spoke a command similar to that of the old scholar tonight—using the great divine ability of "pointing at the landscape to settle the wind and waves," he immobilized the true dragon in midair, causing the lake water to recede dozens of li. Thus, the true dragon was deemed to have come ashore without permission, and having encountered a sage without hiding, the sage skinned and flayed it, suppressed it under a lake-stone as large as a mountain at the bottom of the lake, and punished it to slumber for a thousand years without appearing in the world.
That time, the elder earnestly cautioned the young junior: Those Confucian sages' tempers, especially those with shrines and statues in the Confucian temple, were actually not very good. Otherwise, why was there a saying: "The Way appears solemn and serene"?
The young flood dragon then asked in confusion: Wasn't such behavior by the Confucian sage a violation of the rules?
The elder replied indignantly: You fool, have you forgotten who personally established the rules?
At this moment, on the cliff top, the old flood dragon seemed to recall some old event. With some emotion, it murmured: "Dragons and flood dragons—acting on behalf of Heaven, moving clouds and dispensing rain—were of inestimable nobility, almost like independent feudal lords who could be consulted but not commanded. In the end, we fell to this state, nearly extinct. We cannot blame the sages; it was our own ambition that led to our downfall."
The old scholar let out an "Eh?" and turned to look at the old flood dragon, who appeared as a septuagenarian literatus. Smiling, he nodded and said, "To know one's mistakes and be able to change—there is no greater good. No wonder when I passed by this place last time and saw the beautiful scenery, I still felt something was missing. So it was because of you. Hmm, and there is also a gentleman. A gentleman... Little Qi back then... Well, meeting is fate... Unfortunately, I can't tend to you for now. Go."
The old scholar muttered to himself and then gently swept his finger outward.
The old flood dragon and Cui Minghuang were forcibly removed from the summit of the cliff.
One person and one dragon landed on the river surface in the distance. Each opened their palm and looked down, then almost simultaneously clenched their fists, hiding the golden characters in their palms, naturally unwilling to reveal them to the public.
Inside the cliff sword formation, the old scholar looked around and laughed loudly: "Hiding and concealing—that doesn't make you a hero!"
Soon, the old scholar realized his words were unreasonable. He stammered, not knowing how to extricate himself for a moment.
By the side of the cliff facing the water, a tall woman in white appeared. She held a large lotus leaf in her hand, which could be considered a lotus umbrella. But both the leaf and the stem were pure white, complementing her white clothes and white shoes, immaculately clean.
Upon seeing the lotus leaf, the old scholar frowned. He quickly began mental calculations and deductions. Finally, with a somber expression, he sighed deeply. Looking up at the sky, he refused to withdraw his gaze for a long time. He murmured: "The last trip was there, huh? Thinking back to that spirited youth, who insisted that a gentleman walks the straight path, preferring to break than to bend, preferring jade to burn with the stone—in the end... it was hard on you."
The old scholar looked at the tall woman in white. "If Chen Ping'an kills the young Cui Chan, it won't be a good thing."
She smiled and said, "Is that so? But I don't care. If you have the ability, get out of the sword formation first. It's useless to talk about principles with me. Go talk to my little Ping'an; maybe it will be of some use."
She paused, then said coldly: "But the prerequisite is still that you need to get out first. Those two being able to leave safely was only because I didn't bother to stop them."
The old scholar said helplessly: "When I was alive, I wasn't good at fighting. Now I'm even worse. Why do you insist on making things difficult for me? Besides, Chen Ping'an and the young Cui Chan—one is now my... half-disciple, the other is half a grand-disciple. Who do you think I am more inclined to help? This trip of mine over there, although it's to help Cui Chan stay alive, in the end, isn't it for Chen Ping'an's good?"
The woman in white nodded. "That sounds very reasonable."
Then she shook her head. "But this trip of mine was never meant to reason with anyone."
The old scholar grew even more helpless. "For your little Ping'an's sake, give me an exception, okay? I'm just a teacher. If you don't listen to reason, I have all these skills but no place to use them. And you are one of the best fighters in the Four Worlds... one of the best swords... Not entirely right to say sword, either. Forget it, I won't dwell on the title. In any case, it's very unfair to me!"
The tall woman, holding the strange large umbrella, said coldly: "Break the formation."
With no other choice, the old man cautiously asked: "Do you know who I am?"
The woman in white curled her lips. "Yes, the Literary Sage."
The old man was stunned, thinking to himself: So she knows my background, and still doesn't give face like this? That's a bit excessive.
In this current Haoran World, the Ultimate Sage, the Ritual Sage, and the Second Sage.
They refer respectively to the founder of the Confucian religion—the Ultimate Sage Preceptor, revered by all Confucian disciples, seated at the highest and central position in the Confucian temple.
Next are the second-generation founders of the Confucian religion, with statues on either side: the Ritual Sage and the Second Sage who carried the Confucian lineage forward to new heights.
The former received the most praise and commendation from the Ultimate Sage Preceptor and was regarded by Confucianism as a moral model and teacher of rites, having established the most rigorous and comprehensive set of rules for the Confucian religion. The latter was acknowledged to have the broadest and deepest knowledge, closest to the Ultimate Sage Preceptor, and had opened a new path, enabling Confucianism to truly become the sole 'imperial teacher's doctrine' under heaven.
Next, the Literary Sage occupied the fourth-highest position among the Confucian sages in the temple.
Of course, this was all old news. Now, this position has been vacant for a long time. Because the statue was repeatedly moved to lower positions, finally unable to stay in the Confucian temple, it was moved out. The dignified fourth sage was kicked out of the Confucian orthodoxy. That was one thing, but in the end, even the statue could not be preserved. A group of extreme, self-proclaimed defenders of the faith Confucian disciples smashed the statue—already so miserable as to be reduced to lodging under others' roofs—into pieces, and then swaggered away.
The old scholar reached behind him and patted his travel bag. The bag disappeared.
The old scholar patiently asked again: "How about we talk things over nicely? Can we not fight?"
The woman thought for a moment and nodded. "Then I'll be a bit more polite?"
The old scholar nodded happily, grinning. "That would be best."
In an instant, the sword formation's sword-qi became even denser and more majestic. That irresistible sword momentum showed signs of splitting the very Dao of heaven and earth.
It was said that in ancient times, there were many sword immortals and heroes, who dared not bow to the three founders of religions, roaming freely across the various worlds, with ultimate sword techniques, supreme sword paths, invincible sword spirits, wielding swords in the mortal realm.
The woman curled her lips. "Please, Literary Sage, break the formation! Is that polite enough?"