Chapter 185: Sword Embryo in Palm
Back then, Qi Jingchun had secretly whittled that locust wood sword from the locust branches Li Baoping had brought over, and quietly placed it in Chen Ping’an’s bamboo backpack. Inside that sword dwelled a golden incense fire little man of unknown origins.
However, after appearing twice briefly—once at the Qiulu Inn and once at the Cao family's Zhilan Manor—the shy incense fire little man had never shown himself again. Chen Ping’an let nature take its course and didn’t force anything.
The night was deep and dark. At the Yang family shop, the old man was smacking his lips as he puffed on his tobacco pipe. He furrowed his brow, reached out and grabbed, and the incense fire little man fell to the ground out of thin air.
Old Man Yang said coldly, “Qi Jingchun went to all that trouble to hide you away. What was he trying to do?”
She stood timidly on the ground, seeming to be very afraid of this old man. Both hands clutched tightly at the hem of her clothes, and her lips moved slightly.
The more Old Man Yang listened, the more his face wrinkled. He pondered for a long time, then said, “I agree.”
He tapped his pipe stem on the ground, and a small shrine rolled out, standing before the incense fire little man.
The incense fire little man’s face was full of joy. Just as she was about to walk into it, she suddenly raised her head, hesitated, as if wanting to say something but stopping.
Old Man Yang said coldly, “Knowing everything is, of course, the best. But if you can’t manage that, then it’s better to know nothing at all. That’s how you live well.”
The incense fire little man still seemed a bit hesitant, wanting to return to Mud Bottle Alley, at least to say goodbye to that youth.
Old Man Yang raised his tobacco pipe again and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “Putting all your cleverness inside your belly—that’s true cleverness. Do you really think that boy doesn’t think about anything? Besides practicing his fists, all he does all day is delight in giving alms, acting like the Good Wealth Youth? It’s a pity you’ve followed him all this way; you’re truly dumb. He’s not stupid.”
The incense fire little man pouted, a little deflated. But when she stepped into that small shrine, she was immediately stunned.
She was like a tiny grain of rice, placed inside a huge vat.
On the tall walls inside the small shrine, one name after another shone brilliantly, radiating different colors of light.
Above the incense fire little man’s head, stars blazed brightly, brilliant and magnificent.
The old man put away his pipe, clasped his hands behind his back, and hobbled out of the medicine shop. He walked all the way out of the small town. When he reached the stone arch bridge, he sighed, full of regret and confusion. Slowly descending the stone bridge, he followed the Dragon Beard River to the blacksmith’s shop. He didn’t go inside but came to the riverbank. He lightly stamped his foot, and the River God woman immediately flew backward from the bottom of the river, her soul shaken, dizzy and disoriented. When she saw it was Old Man Yang, she immediately smiled flatteringly. “Great Immortal, you needn’t use such boundless divine powers. Just calling out would have been enough.”
Old Man Yang said expressionlessly, “You go immediately to the source of the Dragon Beard River. Voluntarily disperse half of your golden body, merge it into the river water, and help Ruan Qiong increase the yin-cold weight of the water.”
The young woman was dumbstruck.
Cut away half of her golden body—the old man said it lightly, but whether it was the pain suffered during the process or the damage to her Dao, it was immeasurable.
The woman wished she could flee to a hundred thousand miles away.
Too bad she couldn’t escape.
Old Man Yang added, “If you succeed, later when Ruan Qiong opens his furnace and forges the sword successfully, I’ll help you beg for a River God Temple. In at most fifty or sixty years, you’ll be able to restore your full golden body. Then, for a hundred years, a thousand years, your incense fire will never cease. This is a long, steady stream of profit. You’ll definitely come out ahead.”
The woman stammered, her voice so faint it was barely audible, “Scattering half of my golden body… it’s too painful. I’m afraid of pain…”
The old man said nothing, just stared at the shimmering surface of the Dragon Beard River.
The woman asked cautiously, “Great Immortal, can I refuse?”
Old Man Yang nodded. “You can.”
The woman felt a secret joy mixed with great surprise. When had this Great Immortal become so reasonable?
Old Man Yang sneered, “If I smash your entire golden body to pieces, the effect will be even better. Rest assured, after your soul vanishes into thin air tonight, I will compensate your descendants in the future.”
The woman was somewhat desperate. After weighing her options, she asked in a trembling voice, “Great Immortal, could the blessings fall only on my grandson alone?”
She was full of hope, because she knew that no matter how fairly this Great Immortal acted, he had always been a little different when it came to her grandson, Ma Kuxuan.
But Old Man Yang refused on the spot. “No.”
The woman’s face turned ashen. With a miserable expression, she said, “Then I’ll go to the source of the Dragon Beard River.”
Old Man Yang made no comment.
The River God woman gritted her teeth and began to travel upstream against the current, passing under that stone arch bridge, which no longer held any strangeness, and headed straight into the deep mountains.
Ruan Qiong came to the riverbank and stood beside the old man. “As for forging the sword for that maiden, whether it succeeds or not, I’m in no hurry. I have no intention of making a deal with you.”
“Forging the sword is not a deal.”
Old Man Yang shook his head. “But I can help conceal your daughter’s true identity for thirty years. However, you must ensure that the sword is forged as quickly as possible. That’s the deal I want to make.”
Ruan Qiong’s expression remained calm. He smiled. “True identity?”
The old man said flatly, “You, Ruan Qiong, only need to nod or shake your head.”
Ruan Qiong felt somewhat stifled, but still nodded.
The old man smiled. “When you look back later, you’ll see it was worth it.”
Ruan Qiong asked a strange question. “Then what counts as ‘not worth it’?”
The old man laughed. “Ruan Qiong, eavesdropping on other people’s conversations isn’t a good habit.”
Ruan Qiong admitted frankly, “You, the eldest grandson of the Li family, and Wei Bo—I have to keep an eye on the three of you.”
The old man nodded, then shook his head. “It might be better if you swapped my position with Li Xisheng’s.”
Ruan Qiong smiled and asked, “A thousand years from now, or ten thousand?”
The old man said no more.
Once it entered an era of a hundred schools contending in chaos, heroes and tyrants, geniuses and heretics would spring up like bamboo shoots after rain. Overnight, the world would be an entirely new scene of earth-shaking changes.
The old man had seen that magnificent picture—and more than once.
Ruan Qiong, after all, was only a sage of the Military Strategists, not a sage of the Yin-Yang or other schools. Although he could see very far—for instance, the growth of his daughter Ruan Xiu—it still wasn’t far enough.
The old man suddenly blurted out, “Of course it’s not worth it. Gathering the souls of two ordinary mortals—what use is that? And the price to pay is not small. If it had been Ma Kuxuan, that would be a different story.”
Ruan Qiong smiled and asked, “Did the elder never think highly of Chen Ping’an from the start?”
Old Man Yang said expressionlessly, “As long as someone else thinks highly of him, that’s enough.”
---
The northern road had been reopened to traffic, making Red Candle Town, already lively, even more so with song and dance.
At night, a pleasure boat hung with green bamboo blinds glided leisurely out of a water bend and headed toward the town. Just as it entered the river that split the town in two, business came calling: a wealthy old man in brocade and a middle-aged man in coarse linen. They looked like a rich master with his hired bodyguard, out to enjoy some flower wine.
The boat was of medium size, with five boatwomen. Two poled the boat, two played the zither and heated wine, and the remaining one, the most beautiful, sat beside the old man and attended him carefully, clinging like a little bird. The brocade old man laughed heartily and pointed at the rough-looking man across from him. “See, Old Xie? Clothes make the man, gold makes the Buddha—that old saying is right, isn’t it?”
That man, whether from embarrassment or bluntness, took a cup of wine from the woman heating it, thanked her, and said to the old man, “Don’t keep calling me Old Xie. I’m not that familiar with you.”
The old man had a thick skin. As he took the wine, he took the opportunity to stroke the boatwoman’s hand and even winked and raised his eyebrows at the charming woman. The boatwoman found it disgusting but had to force a smile. The old man didn’t care. He took a flavorful sip of wine. “You’re not familiar with me, but I’m familiar with you. Your reputation, Old Xie, has spread all the way from the northeast to our south. Every time I talk about you with old friends, when they find out you’re from the same hometown as me, they beg me to introduce you. They say it would be a shame not to meet such a great hero and gallant man.”
The man just frowned and said nothing, drinking his wine with his head down.
The old man had two mustaches. Sitting cross-legged, head tilted, he looked at the bustling neon lights on the shore. With one hand he twirled his wine cup, with the other he stroked his mustache. This appearance made him look lecherous and base to anyone watching. Moreover, sitting cross-legged, he deliberately pressed his knee against the plump backside of the woman beside him. Even the woman, used to romantic affairs, regretted not sitting next to the taciturn man.
When the old man raised his arm to stroke his beard, a sleeve was exposed. The boatwomen, skilled at reading people, were somewhat disappointed. On the old man’s wrist was a long, dark green string tied. If it had been on a child’s wrist, it might have been delicate and cute, but on an old man, it was simply incongruous.
The old man suddenly withdrew his gaze and asked the pretty woman beside him, “You love-in-a-brothel women—do you believe in mountain vows and sea pledges?”
Not only did she not know how to answer, but the other boatwomen also looked at each other in confusion, not knowing what the old man was getting at.
The old man laughed heartily and pointed at the man across from him. “Find him—he’s the real deal. He’s a mountain king, in charge of many great mountains. Mountain vows, sea pledges—the ‘mountain vows’ in there…”
The man frowned without speaking, drinking slowly, his mind elsewhere.
The old man pointed at himself. “Actually, finding me works too. In the world, there’s a very, very tall building, with a mighty name: the Towning-the-Sea Tower. It’s by the sea, and my home is near it.”
The man finally couldn’t hold back. His face full of displeasure, he said, “Cao, what are you flaunting this stuff to them for?”
The old man took a sip of wine, picked up a piece of appetizer with his chopsticks, and squinted at the man. “It’s fun talking about this with people who don’t understand it. Flaunting it to mountain people—that’s boring.”
The man’s brow was heavy with gloom. He drank in silence.
“Mountain vows and sea pledges”—in the common folk quarters of secular dynasties, these were mostly mentioned by traveling storytellers, often used for love between men and women. Ordinary people no longer knew their true meaning.
In fact, this term was quite important for people on the mountains. It meant that cultivators could make vows to mountains and seas respectively. The vows had a wonderfully binding power, even more effective than black-and-white contracts among common people.
For a mountain, as long as it was a proper mountain officially enshrined by the court within a nation’s borders—the Five Sacred Peaks—it would do. The higher the realm of the qi refiner, the higher the required rank of the mountain. Most were used for alliances between great nations or business contracts. Over time, marriage betrothals gradually became the majority. As for “sea pledges,” they had lost most of their meaning. Because after the last true dragon in the world fell, the Five Lakes and Four Seas of the Haoran World—the nine major territories beyond the Nine Provinces—had no masters. Secular dynasties had no power to enshrine proper water gods for the Five Lakes and Four Seas. Thus, there were no legitimate water gods who could govern those five great lakes and four vast seas.
Legend has it that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and that place of sunrise lies somewhere in the Eastern Sea.
Cao, the old man, completely ignored the man’s feelings. He ate his appetizers, chewing loudly, and put his hand on the woman’s thigh beside him. With a grin, he asked, “This beauty here, do you know the Xiongzhen Tower?”
The woman shook her head.
“How can that be!” The old man lightly patted the woman’s firm, springy thigh. “Allow me, little brother, to explain to you. In this mortal world, there exist nine great qi towers, built by who knows who, standing in nine places. They are: Towning-Mountain, Towning-Nation, Towning-Sea, Towning-Demon, Towning-Fiend, Towning-Immortal, Towning-Sword, Towning-Dragon. These eight towering buildings, soaring into the clouds, almost reaching the heavens, all have two-character names. Only the last one has three characters, the most peculiar. It’s called…”
The man slapped his chopsticks down. “Enough! Cao Xi, are you ever going to stop?!”
As the chopsticks hit the table, all the boatwomen fell into a strange state. They could still breathe, and their hands moved deftly, but they seemed completely blind and deaf to the two foreign guests so close by on the boat.
“Since we’re here, our identities will soon be seen through. You, Xie Shi, after all, are someone who came out of the Lizhu Cave Heaven. If you deliberately hide your identity, it will arouse suspicion instead. It’s better to be like me—stroll boldly into the town. If necessary, we might even have a fight, just to let the Great Li know who they’re dealing with, so they don’t take a terrestrial sword immortal lightly.”
Cao Xi said this, glanced at the man across from him, and grinned. “They all say Xie Shi of Julu Continent is an upright man, like the bright sun hanging overhead, with never a wrong deed in his life. So, this time you’re making an exception?”
Cao Xi leaned forward, picked up a pickled radish from a small green-glazed dish, and tossed it into his mouth. “It’s just a piece of broken porcelain, isn’t it? As long as you open your mouth and nod, I’ll handle it for you. Xie Shi, Xie Shi, I don’t mean to scold you, but we’ve reached this level, and you’re still being led by the nose? Isn’t that pathetic?”
The man snorted. “Aren’t you afraid of biting your tongue? Do you think the person who bought your life-bound porcelain is some easygoing character?”
Cao Xi looked surprised. “What, Old Xie, your sources aren’t up to date? Haven’t you heard that one of my younger family members just betrothed a direct-line girl from the Chen family of Pure Confucianism? The Chens asked a Lu family expert to do a divination. Guess what? Eight big characters: ‘Fine match, a union made in heaven!’ I’m not bragging—this is no small matter in our continent.”
Xie Shi sneered. “A thing like that—you, Cao Xi, aren’t ashamed, but you’re proud of it? Who gave you that face?”
Cao Xi was thick-skinned like a wall. He retorted, “Why should I be ashamed? My descendant used his real skill to trick a wife. Why shouldn’t I, as the ancestor, be happy?”
Xie Shi crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes, and said in a deep voice, “Alright, tell me why you called me here. If it’s about that porcelain, don’t bother. I won’t agree. I settle my own affairs. Besides, I don’t trust you, Cao Xi.”
Cao Xi cried out, “Aiyo!” and rubbed his eyes. “As expected of the renowned hero Xie Shi of one continent! That noble righteousness of yours is truly dazzling! I have to rub my eyes, or I won’t be able to stand it…”
This seemingly ridiculous old man caused the green string on his wrist to reappear.
All Southern Pusu Continent knew that Cao Xi’s swordsmanship was not top among terrestrial sword immortals, but his personal sword, as a magical artifact, could rank among the top ten of the continent.
In fact, on Cao Xi’s wrist was tied an entire river—a mighty river, roaring and flowing.
That river was Cao Xi’s sword.
Xie Shi had heard of these not-so-secret rumors from other continents. Even so, he asked directly, “Do you need a fight to shut you up?”
Cao Xi just ate and drank, shaking his head. “Pusu Continent says I’m moody and eccentric. Xie Shi, do you think people like me are hard to deal with?”
Xie Shi began to close his eyes and rest.
Whenever a boat took on guests and the deal was settled, a boatwoman would take down a lantern hung at a fixed place on the bow, signaling that the boat was full and not taking more guests.
Cao Xi waved his chopsticks. “Wrong—completely wrong. The hardest people to deal with in this world are people like you, Xie Shi. Too hard to get close to.”
Xie Shi kept his eyes closed. “My patience is limited.”
Cao Xi rolled his eyes. “Fine, let’s talk business. Someone can’t stand the rise of the Song clan of Great Li. And you, Xie Shi, have a stubborn mind—you keep your promises, so you had to leave the mountain, to the extent that your trip to Daoxuan Mountain had to be postponed.
“Unfortunately for you, the Chen family of Pure Confucianism resented Qi Jingchun’s success, and previously had a very bad impression of Great Li along with it. But now they’ve changed their minds, for reasons unknown, and I don’t care. Anyway, the Chen family not only opened a school in town under the name of the Chen family of Dragon Tail Commandery in Bottle Gourd Continent, but they also sent me on this long journey, which counts as a betrothal gift for my descendant. The goal is to stop you, Xie Shi.
“Although I don’t know the exact scheme, as long as I’m here, I’ll be keeping a close eye on you from now on.”
Xie Shi didn’t open his eyes, a hint of mockery in his tone. “Are you sure you can stop me?”
Cao Xi had finally finished each dish of various appetizers in the small plates. He put down his chopsticks and said confidently, “I’m not sure I can beat you, but I’m sure I can stop you.”
Xie Shi suddenly opened his eyes and turned his head to look.
A young-looking swordsman, not wearing a sword at his waist or carrying one on his back, but resting a long sword horizontally behind him. His elbows were lazily propped on the scabbard. He smiled and met Xie Shi’s gaze.
This man, in the mansion of the bride ghost with the plaque “Xiushui Gaofeng,” had drawn his sword barely an inch and used a miniature mountain he had moved before him to barely block the fierce blow of Wei Jin, a terrestrial sword immortal.
In Red Candle Town, he had met A Liang and had a drink. On the Embroidery River ferry, he had greeted Chen Ping’an, who at that time might have been performing his first fist-palm salute. Finally, along with a subordinate named Liu Yu, he had taken Wei Bo from Chess Dun Mountain to Dragon Spring.
On the Immortal Terrace, Wei Jin had referred to him as “that Mohist someone.”
---
Chen Ping’an sat in the room with the locust wood sword for a long time. Finally, he found he couldn’t calm his heart no matter what—reading didn’t work, calligraphy didn’t work, even the walking stake practice and the sword furnace didn’t work.
So Chen Ping’an put the locust wood sword into his bamboo backpack, left the ancestral house, walked out of Mud Bottle Alley, and headed straight for Luopo Mountain.
By the time he appeared before the bamboo tower, the green-clad boy and the pink-dressed girl were both startled.
Chen Ping’an went up to the second floor of the bamboo tower, and his heart immediately calmed down.
The pink-dressed girl wanted to follow, but the green-clad boy grabbed her neck. He whispered, “Are you stupid? Can’t you see the master is in a bad mood?”
The pink-dressed girl looked bewildered.
The green-clad boy pulled her to sit on a small bamboo chair on the first floor and said confidently, “With a temper like our master’s, there are only two things that can make him like this.”
The pink-dressed girl pricked up her ears and listened intently.
The green-clad boy held up one finger, lowering his voice. “One: he lost money, and a lot of it.”
The pink-dressed girl nodded in agreement.
The green-clad boy grinned mischievously. “The other is that our master has taken a heavy blow in love. For example, tossing and turning, sleepless on his pillow, suddenly decides to confess to Sister Ruan Xiu, and she rejects him. Or when confessing to his beloved girl, he gets too forward, wants a kiss, a fierce hug, and then Sister Ruan slaps him, calls him a shameless pervert, and our master, all hot and bothered, has to come to the bamboo tower to cool off.”
The pink-dressed girl was dubious. “The master wouldn’t do such things.”
The green-clad boy sighed mournfully. “You don’t understand us men.”
Chen Ping’an sat cross-legged on the second floor, gazing into the distance through the gaps in the railing.
The locust wood sword lay across his knees.
He pulled out the silver sword embryo and stared down at it. Unlike the strange movements in Mud Bottle Alley, the embryo was now still, like a dead thing.
Somehow, Chen Ping’an had already calmed his mind. He was even more settled than when he was practicing his fists, with a clear head and lucid thoughts.
Chen Ping’an lifted his head again, tightened his grip on the sword embryo in his palm, and said calmly, “If it’s not mine, even if it’s right under my feet, after I pick it up, I’ll find the owner and return it. If it is mine, then it’s mine. You can’t go anywhere. Even if you flee to the ends of the sky, I’ll bring you back.”
The silver sword embryo gradually grew warm, then soon became scorching hot.
Chen Ping’an gritted his teeth, gripping it tightly with one hand. The other hand he placed gently on the locust wood sword as a kind of emotional support. Eventually, he had to grip the sword body fiercely.
His palm was already burned a bright red.
The pain was heart-wrenching, shaking his soul.
The burning pain from the sword embryo was not just in the skin and flesh, but more like molten copper being poured onto his heart—a terrifying sensation.
The eighteen-stops sword qi circulation method began to flow naturally, repeatedly charging at those qi apertures named differently from the current standard, desperately resisting the shock brought by the heat.
Previously, Chen Ping’an had been stuck between six and seven stops, unable to break through that threshold no matter what. No matter how he practiced his fists or walking stake, no matter how he sparred with the green-clad boy to temper his physique, he couldn’t find the method, and thus couldn’t find the door.
To try to reduce his perception of pain, his body trembling violently, Chen Ping’an was forced to distract himself with other things: reciting the content of the sage texts that Cui Dongshan had loudly declaimed, thinking of the calligraphy of the young Daoist Lu Chen’s prescriptions, imagining Wei Jin’s one sword splitting the sky and breaking all methods at Snow Wind Temple, imagining the strange sight of the white rainbow flying sword striking Spring Leaves and Autumn Wind in Mud Bottle Alley today…
Matter after matter, thinking them brought no benefit at all.
Besides his palm being a bloody mess, fused with the sword embryo, Chen Ping’an also began to bleed from his seven orifices. That wasn’t all—the tiny pores all over his skin began oozing blood, and finally condensed into shocking droplets of blood.
The external appearance was miserable; the inside was even worse. The meridians between the qi apertures in his body were like a muddy mess trampled by iron cavalry hooves.
Finally, Chen Ping’an thought of a girl.
He smiled knowingly.
It could only be a knowing smile.
Because Chen Ping’an’s face had already twisted into a rigid, deadpan grimace, incapable of any further change.
Chen Ping’an continued to endure the immense pain silently.
From beginning to end, not a single sound.
His consciousness was already blurred, confused and hazy. In his daze, Chen Ping’an thought of names one after another, a blur of images. The familiar ones were clearer and lingered longer; the less familiar flashed and disappeared.
There was liking, admiration, respect, fear, disgust, aversion, pity, hatred, doubt…
Dong dong dong…
As if someone was knocking on the door of the youth’s heart.
As if asking something.
Right down to the core of his heart.
Relying on only a sliver of consciousness, the youth who refused to give up could only answer with his heart’s voice, answers that even he himself wouldn’t know.
Human strength has its limits.
Chen Ping’an could hold on no longer. He fell backward, the back of his head hitting the green bamboo floor, his senses clearing slightly.
Buzz buzz buzz.
A strange commotion came from his belly.
The human body is a small heaven and earth. Suddenly, the sound of a sword clanging in protest arose!