Chapter 243: Before Thousands of Troops, I Take a Drink of Wine

Chapter 243: Before Thousands of Troops, I Take a Drink of Wine

(Took a leave of absence yesterday, today's 15,000-word chapter makes up for it.)

Just by watching a pure martial artist break through from the third realm to the fourth realm, and seeing such a spectacular sight, Song Yushao felt that even if the current martial world was no longer likable, being able to live a few more years was already not a loss.

Song Yushao lightly patted the old sword at his waist. Drawn by the majestic aura near the waterfall, the sword within the scabbard, which had long developed a spiritual rapport with the old man, grew restless and eager. Standing inside the waterside pavilion, Song Yushao said with some melancholy, "If Gao Feng were still alive tonight, it might be him standing here."

The second master of Sword Water Manor, Song Gaofeng, was the father of the young master Song Fengshan. He was also a sword prodigy of top-tier talent in the world. Unfortunately, heaven was jealous of his genius, and he was trapped by love, eventually straying onto the wrong path. This was also Song Yushao's greatest knot. That tragedy was largely caused by Song Yushao himself, because Song Fengshan's mother was a mountain spirit, a taboo existence not accepted by the world. But back then, Song Yushao was so full of spirit and pride, never caring about worldly opinions. Relying solely on his sword, he looked down upon the entire court and countryside of the Comb Water Kingdom, believing himself invincible in the martial world. He then set off alone to visit immortals. In the end, he saved a kind-hearted young girl, who was a plant spirit transformed into human form. Song Yushao not only did not despise her origins but brought her back to the manor. She and the young Song Gaofeng fell in love with each other. Song Yushao still raised no objection and ultimately sat calmly in the seat of honor, accepting the toast from the loving couple.

If it had ended there, it would have been a beautiful tale of good fortune. But as things are unpredictable, the spirit woman carefully cultivated a flower garden rich in spiritual energy, where flowers bloomed in all four seasons as if it were always spring. At some point, word spread among the martial world, and this garden in the back mountain of the manor became the elixir that countless martial artists dreamed of. Eating one plant could increase one's power by over ten years. After that, if someone secretly plucked a plant or two, the kind-hearted woman would turn a blind eye and let the thief take it. The manor also publicly stated that the plants in the garden had no miraculous effect of increasing martial power, only slightly prolonging life. Over time, the high-ranking masters in the martial world who coveted the garden gradually gave up their dirty intentions. But one day, more than half of the garden was stolen, and the thief was still unsatisfied, trampling the remaining plants to ruin, leaving a mess. The garden was useless for improving the realm of martial artists, but it was the key opportunity for Song Gaofeng's wife's path. After this catastrophe, the woman was heartbroken and wasted away.

Song Gaofeng followed the clues and found the culprit—a woman in the martial world who had turned love into hatred for him. That sword, Song Gaofeng delivered it without hesitation, but it was blocked by the woman's father. One must know that man was the then martial alliance leader of the Comb Water Kingdom, a fist technique grandmaster renowned in several kingdoms, and also came from a border military background, with deep-rooted connections in officialdom. He was highly valued and trusted by the emperor. The so-called widely acclaimed martial alliance leader was merely a tactic by the emperor to control the martial world.

No matter how desperately Song Gaofeng fought, he was no match for that man. After returning to Sword Water Manor, the woman and her father followed to apologize. The old man, the former martial alliance leader of the same generation as Song Yushao and a leader in the martial world, was willing to cut off his own arm on the spot, standing outside the manor gate covered in blood, saying it was to atone for his daughter's sins. What could Song Yushao do, even if his swordsmanship was a notch higher than that man's martial arts? Cut off another arm? Then slice off the head of the trouble-making woman with his sword?

He could only let it go.

Song Gaofeng did not say a word, not even showing his face. He just stayed by his wife's sickbed.

After the father and daughter left, Song Yushao turned away gloomily and went to tell his son the outcome. Song Gaofeng refused to see him and only said three words: "I understand."

In the end, Song Yushao learned that his son Song Gaofeng had fallen into the demonic path, cultivating a demonic scripture. The last time he walked the martial world, he had disfigured his face, changed his weapon, left his sword at home, and on the day that fist technique grandmaster retired from the alliance leader position, Song Gaofeng sneaked into the mansion. Though heavily wounded, he succeeded in killing the enemy. When Song Gaofeng returned to the manor, he was at the end of his strength and finally closed his eyes with his dying wife.

At that time, Song Yushao stood outside the door, and the still young grandson Song Fengshan silently stayed by his parents' bedside, shedding no tears, saying nothing.

In the martial world, not only is one's body not free, but one's heart is also not free.

Song Yushao's guilt toward Song Gaofeng was transferred to his grandson Song Fengshan. Especially after Song Fengshan insisted on marrying a spirit woman, and after that incident, Song Yushao was completely disheartened, increasingly blaming himself. So even though Song Fengshan had colluded with the other three villains of the Comb Water Kingdom, Song Yushao was still unwilling to kill him, no longer imposing his own martial world rules on Song Fengshan's willful actions.

Song Yushao knew exactly what Song Fengshan intended to do.

That night, Song Gaofeng killed the former martial alliance leader who had connections in the court. But the real culprit escaped. Afterwards, the emperor, unwilling to break openly with Sword Water Manor and perhaps feeling some guilt, personally acted as a matchmaker, making the poor woman who survived the catastrophe the wife of a meritorious general of the Comb Water Kingdom, becoming the highest-ranking titled lady of the kingdom.

Everyone knew that the old sword saint Song Yushao adhered to the rules of the martial world, so the emperor of the Comb Water Kingdom, the number one figure in the martial world, did not need to worry much. As for Song Yushao's grandson, who was very young at the time, everyone thought he must have fuzzy memories and would never become a major threat.

Thus, for over twenty years, the martial world of the Comb Water Kingdom was peaceful and sunny, and the position of martial alliance leader remained vacant for over twenty years.

Until Song Fengshan threw open the gates of Sword Water Manor, hosting a grand feast for heroes from all directions. The official alliance leader ceremony was to be held the next day.

Song Yushao had long lost interest in the martial world, but that did not mean he was indifferent to everything. Why had he traveled the martial world alone for so many years? Was it really for relaxation? To avoid seeing his grandson?

Absolutely not.

But even though Song Yushao knew that one day dark clouds would press down on this Sword Water Manor, the culmination of his life's work, and that his grandson Song Fengshan would cross boundaries, seemingly in a flourishing situation but secretly becoming a target of the court and the people—all this, Song Yushao had another knot besides the original one. The first knot was his guilt toward his son Song Gaofeng. The second was that the martial world rules he adhered to were completely at odds with his grandson's actions.

This sword saint of the Comb Water Kingdom hesitated inside: Should he draw his sword against the court? If he did, would it challenge the emperor's authority? Song Yushao actually didn't care about that at all. What concerned him was that it would violate his own true heart.

Because deep down, the old man never agreed with Song Fengshan's martial world.

All of this, he could not tell anyone.

That previous journey in the martial world was originally to find a martial arts senior who was both friend and foe, the sword saint of the Colorful Garment Kingdom, a man whose martial virtue and martial arts were both toweringly high. Song Yushao wanted to spar with him and also to untie this knot. Unfortunately, that old man with divine swordsmanship had died. This forced Song Yushao to turn back halfway, leading to the encounter at the ancient temple.

The old man in black stood in the waterside pavilion, lost in a myriad of emotions, his thoughts wandering so much that he didn't notice the young man who had broken through by punching, lingering long in the waterfall.

When Song Yushao realized something was wrong and was about to investigate, he saw Chen Ping'an slowly walk out of the waterfall, leap back, and land gracefully in the waterside pavilion. His bloody hands were already hastily wrapped in cotton cloth.

Song Yushao set aside his troubling thoughts and asked with a smile, "You've already tasted the fine wine of the manor, and now you've entered the minor grandmaster realm. How is it? Isn't it better?"

But Chen Ping'an's next words made the old man's eyes widen. "It seems I'm still a bit short of breaking through. It's like I punched through the waterfall, but I haven't crossed that last step."

Song Yushao studied the boy's restrained aura. His entire fist intent flowed like a waterfall, worthy of the description "magnificent in every way." The old man said in surprise, "You are clearly a solid fourth realm. I can even swear I've never seen a third realm more solid and stable than yours, nor this new fourth realm. Chen Ping'an, how can you still feel that you're missing that step?!"

Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "Senior Song, I really am a bit short. I can't explain why, but I know it. However, I now know the general direction. I have a path to walk, and I won't stumble around aimlessly like before. I should be able to gradually work it out before we reach Old Dragon City. If I'm lucky, when we get to the immortal ferry of your Comb Water Kingdom, I might break through inexplicably. But I've never been very lucky, so it's more likely I'll break through at Old Dragon City."

Song Yushao clasped his hands behind his back, walked two slow circles around the boy, then stopped, clicking his tongue in wonder. "There is always someone better, and there is always a higher heaven. I've learned a great lesson today."

Song Yushao laughed heartily. "Come, let's drink! No matter what, even if you haven't fully broken through, it's still a great thing worth celebrating!"

Chen Ping'an shook his wine gourd. There was still plenty of wine, so he nodded with a smile. "Sure."

Song Yushao suddenly asked, "There's a restaurant in the town outside the manor. Their hotpot is exceptional. The ingredients are so good they'll make you bite your tongue. The wine is also good. Do you want to try it? It's just about mealtime now. I have a good relationship with the owner there; I can get a twenty percent discount."

When Chen Ping'an heard about the twenty percent discount, he immediately became bold and said, "Then I'll pay!"

Song Yushao chuckled. "Oh? Let me warn you, a meal of hotpot and good wine at that restaurant costs at least five or six taels of silver."

Chen Ping'an blinked, his face not red nor his heart beating fast. "The town is a bit far from the manor. How about we just drink in the courtyard?"

Song Yushao gave a thumbs up. "Truly the spirit of a hero who spends thousands of gold!"

Chen Ping'an suddenly burst out laughing. "Alright, let's go! Why not? Lunch will be hotpot!"

Song Yushao was taken aback for a moment, then, not giving Chen Ping'an a chance to back out, let out a hearty laugh, said "Follow me," and leaped out of the waterside pavilion. Stepping from tree top to tree top, he sped out of the manor.

Chen Ping'an had to give up on the idea of calling Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanfeng and followed closely behind.

When he rose above the height of the waterside pavilion, Chen Ping'an turned to look at the waterfall and grinned.

On the stone wall behind the waterfall, the boy had secretly carved two lines of characters with his fingers. From top to bottom, one line wrote a girl's name, and the other wrote "Chen Ping'an was here." The boy hoped that the next time he came to Sword Water Manor, that girl would be by his side.

Of course, Chen Ping'an only dared to think this secretly.

---

In Mud Vial Alley and Apricot Flower Alley, whenever any household had a wedding or funeral, the neighbors were always willing to help. This was the same custom as adding earth to graves, passed down from ancestors, requiring no explanation. Today, someone in Apricot Flower Alley was getting married, taking a wealthy woman from Peach Leaf Alley as his bride. The family in Apricot Flower Alley had a good reputation. Even back when there was an old woman named Ma with a bad reputation, she had been close to this family. So they set up nearly twenty tables for the feast. As long as you gave a red envelope, whether it was a piece of silver scrap or a few copper coins, you could sit at a table and share in the joy.

At one of the tables, there were a few unfamiliar faces. The leader was somewhat familiar—an old man from an old house in Mud Vial Alley, dressed like a wealthy man. He often wandered around the town, and over time, he had become a familiar face. His surname was Cao, and the neighbors habitually called him Old Cao. Old Cao was friendly to everyone, always smiling, without any airs of a rich man. He could chat for half a day with common folk. He often chatted with the groom's father, Old Han, so today at the wedding feast, he gave a generous red envelope, showing great respect. Old Han, dressed in new clothes, even took his son and daughter-in-law to offer a toast.

Old Cao had brought three companions, all surnamed Cao. There was the handsome young man Cao Jun, who also lived in the Cao family's old house in Mud Vial Alley, and a grandfather and granddaughter who had returned to the town from another region. They were said to be Old Cao's relatives from the capital. They seemed to be from a scholarly background, and perhaps even had a hint of officialdom, or maybe that's just how people from the capital were.

Old Cao liked lively occasions and often ran around with his wine glass to offer toasts. At the table, the Cao grandfather and granddaughter from the capital clearly weren't used to such a noisy scene; they were somewhat restrained, sitting in place, occasionally picking up a piece of vegetable, taking a sip of the moderately priced liquor from the town's tavern. Cao Jun, on the other hand, was relatively at ease. One foot on the bench, he drank by himself, glancing sideways at Old Cao calling some old men "brothers," a playful smile on his face.

The in-laws from Peach Leaf Alley, though their family fortune had declined, were still much more substantial than the Apricot Flower Alley family, so they put on airs. The neighbors from Apricot Flower Alley and Mud Vial Alley thought this was normal. The prestigious families of Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Alley, even if no longer as glorious as before, were still unattainable for ordinary folks. If not for Old Han's son having a good position in the Dragon Spring Prefecture government, he wouldn't have had the fortune to marry a young lady from Peach Leaf Alley.

Old Cao went to mingle at another table. Cao Jun took a sip of the strong liquor, took a deep breath, quickly picked up a piece of pork trotter, turned to the grandfather and granddaughter, and asked with a smile in the official Da Li dialect, "What's the matter? Not used to the food and drink? How about the three of us find another place and go have a good meal at a restaurant?"

The old man in a clean blue robe shook his head with a smile. "No need to be so particular. I'm just used to vegetarian dishes in the capital, not used to the heavy meat and fat at wedding feasts. It's not that I look down on the local customs. Besides, this Huaihuang County in Dragon Spring Prefecture is our Cao family's ancestral land. As descendants, we cannot forget our roots."

The handsome Cao Jun nodded, grinning. "Having such an unreliable ancestor is our family's misfortune."

The old man did not dare to respond.

To criticize the family ancestor, an eleventh-level sword cultivator, even if the old man was a high-ranking pillar of state in the Da Li Dynasty, he didn't have the courage or boldness.

The young man named Cao Mao, who was elegant and had a temperament different from Cao Jun, was the newly appointed supervisor of the kiln affairs in Dragon Spring Prefecture, a direct official of the Ministry of Rites. He was known as the "Jade Tree of the Cao Family" in the Da Li officialdom. When he welcomed the Da Li National Teacher at the Huai mansion relay station, Cao Mao arrived alone on horseback, reeking of alcohol, and swayed off his horse into the station. This showed how unconventional this noble son from the capital was.

When Cao Xi returned to his seat, even Cao Mao instinctively straightened up. The old man in the blue robe also sat up straight, put down his chopsticks, picked up the wine pot, and proactively poured wine for the ancestor Cao Xi, who was separated by countless generations.

Cao Xi finished his drink in one gulp, set down the cup, looked at the continuous stream of guests coming to congratulate, then stood up. "Don't squat on the latrine if you're not going to shit. Let's free up the seats for those behind us. Let's go."

The group of four left the courtyard. Nearby houses in the alley also had tables laid out. Cao Xi led the three into Mud Vial Alley and asked casually, "Has your emperor returned to the capital?"

The old man respectfully replied, "To report to the ancestor, the emperor is unwell and has returned north to the capital via the relay road from Dragon Spring Prefecture City."

When passing by the Gu family's ancestral home, Cao Xi stopped and looked at the dilapidated door gods and the old Spring Festival couplets on the unmanned house. "I heard that the mother and son of this family have been taken by the River-Truncating True Lord to Green Gorge Island on the Book Binding Lake. That little brat named Gu Can, before leaving the town, obtained a great opportunity, able to control a water flood dragon comparable to a tenth-level qi warrior? And that water flood dragon's realm is advancing rapidly, likely breaking through the tenth-level bottleneck within a few decades?"

The old man nodded. "At the personal arrangement of the National Teacher, the Da Li court has established a new intelligence agency responsible for recording the growth experiences of these children from the Pearl Grotto Heaven. Besides Gu Can, there are also Ma Kuxuan from Apricot Flower Alley, Zhao Yao from Fortune Street, Xie Lingqi from the Xie family, most of them from the town. But there are also outsider qi warriors who obtained opportunities and blessings here, such as the Da Sui Crown Prince Gao Xuan. A total of sixteen people."

Cao Xi walked slowly forward and stopped again. "And these two households?"

The owners of the two adjacent houses: one had already been registered in the Da Li Song family tree as Song Mu, who had just returned to the capital with the emperor; the other was Chen Ping'an, who had already traveled south. But in the town, he owned two shops and five mountain peaks in the western mountains.

The old man looked embarrassed. "Among the sixteen, the crown prince and Chen Ping'an should not be included."

Cao Xi said, "Oh? Then what about Li Xisheng?"

The old man, a pillar of state of the Da Li dynasty, shook his head. "Not either."

Cao Xi turned to look at Cao Jun, who carried both a long and a short sword at his waist. "You've fought Li Xisheng. With his sixth-level cultivation, he made you, a ninth-level sword cultivator, return without success. What do you think?"

Cao Jun replied grumpily, "What else can I think? He's amazing. I'm just a good-for-nothing."

Cao Xi chuckled. "Next, you useless waste will soon head to the border to join the army. If you're lucky, you can stay by the side of the Da Li vassal king Song Changjing, follow the Da Li iron cavalry south, maybe all the way to the central part of Treasure Vase Continent before stopping. What do you think about that?"

Cao Jun said bluntly, "Just muddle along waiting to die."

Cao Mao, a son from the top family of Da Li, sincerely admired this guy Cao Jun. Although he and this sword cultivator seemed around the same age, they were actually sixty years apart. During this time, they often drank together, and he knew that Cao Jun's cynicism and carefree attitude came from the bone, not just a superficial act.

Cao Xi said sternly, "Within ten years, if you can't kill one or two tenth-level old turtles, I'll kill you myself!"

Cao Jun held the back of his head with both hands, said to Cao Mao with a smile, "After I die, remember to collect my corpse and bury it at the Immortal Grave. I think the feng shui there is good. Living next to those clay Buddhist bodhisattvas and Taoist heavenly officials would make me feel good because I won't have to listen to anyone nagging. My ears will be clean, and no one will disturb my sweet dreams."

He might not have pity for misfortune, but he certainly had anger for lack of ambition. Cao Xi exploded in rage. "You little bastard! Do you know what price I paid to repair that innate sword qi lotus pond in your heart lake?!"

When Cao Jun smiled, his eyes narrowed into slits, like a sly fox. "How would I know that? Why don't you tell me?"

Cao Xi sneered. "Having a descendant like you is also a family misfortune. Even if the ancestral grave emits green smoke, it's useless! Get lost! Go to the capital to find Song Changjing, then go directly to the southern border. I don't want to see you for the next ten years."

Cao Jun left without another word, soaring into the air, laughing heartily, flying north with the wind.

Supervisor Cao Mao, who knew the rules of this world, tried to warn him, but it was too late.

By the Dragon Whisker River south of the town, a war sage in the sword shop sneered, "A creature with no memory."

A scene like water gushing from a spring eye appeared in a spot in the clear sky over Dragon Spring Prefecture, and a long sword slowly rose.

"Ruan Qiong, won't you give me even this little face?"

Cao Xi's face darkened. With a flick of his wrist, the green thread-like life-bound flying sword, which was Cao Xi's greatest reliance for dominating the Southern Bodhisattva Continent, was a half-immortal weapon refined from a ten-thousand-mile great river by an ancient deity. When Cao Xi's mind stirred, the green thread on his wrist, though not revealing its true form, trembled slightly, emitting wisps of green water qi that shot swiftly toward the sky where Cao Jun's figure had vanished.

The sword that Ruan Qiong conjured from the spring eye slashed toward the head of the sword cultivator Cao Jun, who had broken the rules. Its speed far exceeded Cao Jun's northward flight. If nothing unexpected happened, Cao Jun's head would be cut off before he even left the border of the old Pearl Grotto Heaven.

Fortunately, between Ruan Qiong's flying sword and Cao Jun's figure, a stretch of surging river water appeared out of thin air. The river cut across the sky, blocking the flying sword's path.

One slash cut through the river, which was only a few miles wide. The green river folded up at both ends, pressing down on the sharp flying sword that continued forward. The river crashed like waves on a shore, constantly slowing the flying sword's advance like a leaf boat. Even though the river water was endless, the flying sword controlled by the war sage of the Snow Wind Temple still cut through the river, pressing forward relentlessly.

Cao Jun did not stop, but turned around. With a single draw of his waist sword, he precisely struck the tip of Ruan Qiong's flying sword. Cao Jun's sword flew up high, and he spat out a mouthful of blood, but his body shot backward at an even faster speed.

A river a hundred miles long rolled into a ball, tightly wrapping around Ruan Qiong's flying sword. Within the ball of green river water, sword qi continuously shot out, until the river shattered into raindrops. But before the drops fell to the ground, they re-condensed into strands of green sword qi, leisurely returning to Mud Vial Alley in the town.

Ruan Qiong's unharmed life-bound flying sword hovered in the high sky, paused briefly. Below the sword, another small pool appeared. The flying sword slowly descended, submerged into the pool, and disappeared into the air.

The Bodhisattva Continent sword cultivator, who had previously taken a punch from Ruan Qiong, thus successfully left the battlefield. Cao Jun laughed heartily, "A good wind lends me strength, sending me to the blue sky! Thanks to Saint Ruan and my ancestor for seeing me off together!"

Inside Mud Vial Alley, the Cao family's pillar-of-state old man was filled with mixed emotions. He was not a qi warrior, but the family's guest retainers and offerings were not lacking in mountain experts. Yet seeing such earth-shattering battles of immortals was still rare. The kiln supervisor Cao Mao, the direct grandson of the current generation of the capital Cao family, asked, "Ancestor, if this angers the saint of this land?"

Cao Xi sneered, "I can't beat a twelve-level Taoist heavenly lord from North Julu Continent, but can't I beat a new eleventh-level from Treasure Vase Continent? Cao Jun can lose face for the Cao family, but I won't lose face for the Bodhisattva Continent qi warriors!"

At that moment, the Cao family pillar of state and Supervisor Cao Mao truly realized why this ancestor, who seemed amiable in the town, had become the gatekeeper of that seaside majestic building.

A man stood at the other end of Mud Vial Alley. "Want to try?"

Cao Xi grinned. "Fine. You pick the place, I pick the time!"

The man who had come from the sword shop to confront him said without hesitation, "There is a hundred-mile-radius mountain hollow in the western mountains, rarely visited by humans. Now it also has the formations and prohibitions set by Da Li. It's enough for us to decide victory or defeat."

Cao Xi nodded vigorously. "Good! We'll fight in a hundred years!"

Ruan Qiong was stunned for a moment, then spat on the ground and turned to leave.

Cao Mao covered his face.

The Cao family pillar of state was at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

Cao Xi rolled his eyes. "What? This is called strategic combat. You people don't understand a damn thing!"

Cao Xi was the first to enter his old house. The grandfather and granddaughter behind him were about to follow when the door slammed shut.

Cao Mao and his grandfather, the Da Li pillar of state, exchanged bitter smiles and had no choice but to leave Mud Vial Alley, heading to the supervisory office to secretly discuss the family's next moves on various fronts.

The storm in the northern part of Treasure Vase Continent had already risen, and the situation was greatly favorable to the Da Li Dynasty. Of course, the earlier one entered the game, the greater the profit.

Moreover, the Cao family now had a huge piece of good news: the ancestor Cao Xi would stay in Treasure Vase Continent for some time, and the genius sword cultivator Cao Jun would also enlist in the Da Li border army. Presumably, the emperor would remember this friendship to some extent. In the next hundred years, the Cao family's suppression of their mortal enemy, the Yuan family, in the court was a foregone conclusion.

---

In the Fallen Mountain bamboo building, the old man surnamed Cui, who was used to coarse cloth and barefoot walking, had changed his temperament after a visit from the Lotus Crown Taoist Lu Chen. He dressed in the blue robe and scholar's headscarf of a literatus, made himself a bamboo staff for walking in the mountains, wore wooden clogs for mountain climbing, and often went down the mountain to buy ancient books and stationery. He decorated the second floor of the bamboo building like a study in a scholarly family, spending his free time painting and writing.

This left the green-clad child and the pink-skirted girl staring at each other, mistakenly thinking the old man had gone mad. Later, after the pink-skirted girl saw the old man's calligraphy and often conversed with him, she discovered that the old man was a true erudite scholar, excellent at music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and deeply learned in orthodox Confucian studies.

The green-clad child was carefree and afraid of death, only thinking about the old man cultivating martial arts well, so that he could become a big shot who ruled this small world with force, allowing him to rest easy. He often hinted to the old man about the hidden dragons and crouching tigers in Dragon Spring Prefecture, warning him not to be careless, and earnestly spoke of the treacherous and unpredictable nature of the Da Li martial world, insisting that only top-tier mountain cultivation could intimidate petty people.

But the old man simply wouldn't pay attention to him. At most, he would chat idly with the pink-skirted girl, who sought his teachings. As for so-called martial arts, it was as if he had thrown them aside and never picked them up again. The green-clad child could only sigh, lamenting that relying on others was not as good as relying on oneself, so he continued to cultivate diligently, striving to digest the two superior snake gallstones that had entered his stomach.

Wei Po, the newly appointed Northern March Mountain god, who had been very busy lately entertaining visitors, still came to the bamboo building from time to time to visit the small pond where a purple-gold lotus seed had been thrown.

Besides the purple-gold lotus seed left in Fallen Mountain, Chen Ping'an, following Wei Po's advice as the master of Fallen Mountain, had left a leisure seal on the first floor of the bamboo building as a geomantic item to suppress the mountain and water. The seal was engraved by Qi Jingchun with the characters "Chen Eleven." It held no mystery, just a beautiful wish Qi Jingchun had given Chen Ping'an at the time.

Above the tenth and final realm of martial arts was the human martial god, who could stand shoulder to shoulder with the top qi warriors of the world.

The pink-skirted girl valued this seal beyond measure, almost more than the book box entrusted to her by the young Cui Chan. Three times a day—morning, noon, and evening—she would secretly take out the small seal her master had given her and carefully wipe it with a silk scarf. No matter how the green-clad child tried to trick her, she would not let him touch it.

Now, the pink-skirted girl, originally from the Zhilan Tower of the Huangting Kingdom, had used the snake gallstone given by Chen Ping'an to break through the last threshold of the lower five realms and enter the first realm of the middle five realms, the Cavern Realm. After that came the seventh Sea-Viewing Realm, the eighth Dragon Gate Realm, the ninth Golden Core Realm, and the tenth Nascent Soul Realm—still a long and distant path.

But compared to the green-clad child, who had suddenly become ambitious and entered the Sea-Viewing Realm, the pink-skirted girl was more relaxed. Apart from keeping the bamboo building spotlessly clean every day, she would read books and enjoy the scenery, with a calm state of mind. Compared to the fierce-tempered water snake of the Imperial River and the fire python of the Book Chamber transformed from a spirit, she was more at ease.

So now it had become the green-clad child who would criticize her for being foolish, lazy, and lacking ambition.

That evening at dusk, the green-clad child was in meditation by the cliff, while the pink-skirted girl sat on a small bamboo chair cracking melon seeds. The old man surnamed Cui came downstairs, moved a bamboo chair beside the girl, and said softly, "For a thousand years, the Cui family was one of the top scholarly families in Treasure Vase Continent, yet it never produced such an intelligent fire python as you. This shows that opportunity cannot be obtained by desperate effort."

The pink-skirted girl smiled obediently and asked, "Grandpa Cui, do you think my master has broken through his realm now?"

The old man said with schadenfreude, "The strongest third realm of martial arts that I personally polished is not so easy to break. It'll probably be a while. Maybe by the time he reaches the southernmost Old Dragon City, Chen Ping'an's realm will still be unmoving, stubbornly stuck at the third realm bottleneck. He'll worry every day and drink to drown his sorrows, then become a dispirited little drunkard."

The pink-skirted girl softly complained, "Half of my master's fists were taught by you, Grandpa Cui. If my master doesn't break through, how can you secretly be happy?"

The old man laughed heartily. "Little girl, you're not in the martial world, so you don't know the weight of the term 'the world's strongest third realm.' I killed the Cui family's sixth-level peak offerer Sun Shujian with only the power of the fifth realm. Why? Because a martial artist's foundation has thickness. If the foundation is poorly laid, the tall building will shake in the wind. If the foundation is well laid, it's like a famous mountain range standing on the earth. A little wind and rain mean nothing—just an itch."

The pink-skirted girl said worriedly, "My master has no one to take care of him when he's away from home. He has to do everything himself. Will that hinder his fist practice?"

The old man glanced at the back of the green-clad child, then turned back to look at the anxious little girl, sighing emotionally. "The fact that you two can be together without fighting shows that Chen Ping'an has taught you well. I don't know if, when his family grows bigger, Chen Ping'an can still maintain this balance, treating people and matters with fairness. The rules of a small household and the traditions of a great clan are two different things when handled."

The pink-skirted girl looked up innocently and charmingly. "If that day comes, Grandpa Cui, would you help my master a little?"

The old man stroked the little fire python's head. "There are some family matters that outsiders cannot help with."

The old man slowly stood up, pointing into the distance. "Imagine if that day really comes. Chen Ping'an establishes a school. With you and the little water snake, with the black snake of Flagpole Mountain that has gold lines under its belly and four dragon claws growing out, with so many mountain peaks, and later each peak has a high-ranking expert residing there—for example, that one who recognized Chen Ping'an as his teacher... and those children who call Chen Ping'an 'little martial uncle.' Then you become a celestial mansion in the eyes of the world, with sect elders and disciples to collect. Chen Ping'an's command gathers ten, a hundred, even a thousand or ten thousand people. Once there are conflicts among his own people, Chen Ping'an's palm and the back of his hand are both flesh. It's not something that can be solved with a single fist or sword. How will he handle it?"

The pink-skirted girl, having read all the history books of various kingdoms in Zhilan Tower, knew the difficulty of this problem, and even her mood for cracking melon seeds was gone.

Cui old man smiled. "Actually, you don't have to worry too much. Chen Ping'an has one good point that maybe few people have discovered..."

The pink-skirted girl waited for a long time but the old man didn't continue. She couldn't help asking, "Grandpa Cui, my master already has so many good qualities. Is there something good about him that I don't know?"

The old man laughed heartily. "You little girl have one good point: you're really good at flattering people, especially your master. It's like a spring breeze turning into rain, moistening things silently!"

The pink-skirted girl blushed, thinking to herself that she wasn't trying to flatter; her master really was that good.

The old man sat back down on the bamboo chair and stopped being mysterious. He said with a smile, "Chen Ping'an is very easy to get along with. Everyone close to him takes this for granted. But one day, Chen Ping'an will become very hard to get along with on a certain matter, even the hardest. And when that time comes, something strange will happen. Everyone will feel... guilty and afraid, and they won't be the first to retort."

The pink-skirted girl quickly clasped her hands together and murmured, "I hope my master never gets angry."

The old man sighed.

He once, after killing someone outside the bamboo building, had asked Chen Ping'an fiercely, "Do you want to learn boxing from me, or learn how to be a man from me?"

These were not only the old man's heartfelt words, but also a sign that the old man, who looked down on everyone, could not truthfully convince Chen Ping'an on the point of "being a man."

But if it weren't so, why would the old man be willing to pass on his entire martial arts legacy to Chen Ping'an?

When taking on a disciple, one should take one who might surpass oneself in the future. Just one would be enough! Otherwise, even if you gathered a group of ninth-level and tenth-level disciples, what would they be but a few ants under the great tide?!

The pink-skirted girl suddenly asked timidly, "If one day, Grandpa Cui, you do something wrong, and my master gets angry, will you be afraid?"

The old man gave her a knock on the head, then stood up and walked away angrily, muttering, "Little girl, you really don't know how to chat!"

The green-clad child by the cliff, who had been eavesdropping, turned around with a sly smile and gave the pink-skirted girl a thumbs up.

The pink-skirted girl happily started cracking melon seeds again, thinking that it wasn't that she was amazing, but that her master was amazing.

---

Old Man Yang of the Yang family shop guarded that small back courtyard year after year. For countless years, generation after generation of Yang family members—except for the clan heads who took over the Yang family and a few secret figures within the family who happened to become qi warriors and thus knew the shocking secret—carefully helped the old man guard that secret. As for the rest, whether they were Yang family members who lived and died or medicine shop assistants who came and went, each generation only knew that there was such an old senior in the Yang family shop who was "the same age as the family elders." That was all. They only knew that the old man never left home, had a strange temperament, and was difficult to deal with. But he was very skilled at curing diseases and saving people, though his fees were high. If you couldn't afford it, then prepare your coffin—the coffin shop was on the same street anyway.

Today, Old Man Yang was still smoking his pipe in the back courtyard, but in his hand was a newly published novel from a Da Li bookshop. This was from a school of thought that had once been one of the nine streams and ten schools of the Haoran World. As time passed, like the Mohist school, one of the four major schools, it was no longer a prominent school. This school had become one of the most common among the various philosophers—mostly writing insignificant unofficial histories and erotic literature favored by common folk to attract attention. Of course, it also criticized current affairs. In history, many emperors, generals, and ministers had their reputations severely damaged by the words of novelists. For example, some capable officials who devoted their lives to political reform ended up being remembered not for their good governance but for things like sleeping with ten women in one night and being insatiable with women. Another example: some great Confucian gentlemen of almost three immortal achievements—virtue, merit, and words—were said to have spent the night in a nunnery, ultimately becoming just a shameless old man who "dug for ashes," and the great rites and principles in their moral writings became empty talk and jokes.

Therefore, a Confucian sage from the academy had to angrily say, "The lowly school of novelists corrupts the country and misleads the people more than anything!"

But the Sage of Rites, who made and governed the world's rules, still, like his attitude toward the demon race, gave the greatest tolerance and forbearance.

So now, as Old Man Yang flipped through that novel, he had a certain view of the dispute between the third and fourth schools in the Central Earth Continent. He disliked both sides equally. At most, he would give a thumbs up to the "four" school's scholarly purpose and say it was good. As for the "three" school, which, though revered as a sub-saint, was actually ranked third highest in the Confucian temple, Old Man Yang strongly disliked him, thinking that the word "sanctimonious," which had shifted from praise to criticism, best described this man.

The novel in Old Man Yang's hand, still smelling faintly of ink, had been bought by a shop assistant from the book street in Dragon Spring Prefecture City. It wrote about the experiences of many martial world heroes in their rise to fame. When they were in adversity or desperate situations, they always had a few stirring, impassioned words, generally complaining that heaven had no eyes. Every time Old Man Yang read this, he seemed quite happy. Finally closing the book, he chuckled and said, "You young people, just let heaven be."

After laughing, he put away the book, took a big puff of smoke, then shook out a small object like a miniature temple from his sleeve, dropping it to the ground. He thought for a moment, then tapped the ground beside his foot with his bamboo pipe and said softly, "Song Qing, come out."

At the entrance of the miniature temple on the ground, thick smoke billowed out, quickly condensing into the form of an old man with a weathered face. Seeing Old Man Yang, he bowed deeply and said solemnly, "Paying respects to the Divine Lord."

Old Man Yang ignored him and only gave orders: "I permit you to leave this jurisdiction. Within Treasure Vase Continent, your former realm remains. Your mission is to serve as the guardian for Cao Jun, the son of the Cao family in Mud Vial Alley. Once Cao Jun has fully repaired his heart lake sword pond, your branch of the Song family will inevitably rise in this great tide, enjoying worldly splendor for at least a hundred years. After that, your descendants' fortunes will be determined by their own actions—blessings and calamities are of their own making."

The old man was only the form of a ghost, yet thick smoke still formed a long sword hanging at his waist. The sword qi was gone, but the sword intent was strong. It was clear that this old man must have been a swordsman in life. After hearing Old Man Yang's promise, the old man showed a happy expression, bowed again, and said, "Thank you for the Divine Lord's grace!"

Old Man Yang waved his sleeve, and instantly a number of golden talismans covered the thick smoke old man's body. These were protective talismans for the ghostly figure to walk between heaven and earth. The latter's soul became steady, his aura soared, and his sword intent was so strong that if Old Man Yang's big puff of smoke hadn't covered it, it would have shot up to the stars, alarming all qi warriors in Dragon Spring Prefecture.

Old Man Yang said, "Go now. Cao Jun has already gone to the Da Li capital. You can explain this matter directly to him. Song Qing, if you dare to break the rules, not only will you instantly disappear soul and spirit, but I will also uproot your entire Song branch, cutting off your incense, so that for thousands of years to come, there will be no trace of your Song branch."

The old man clasped his fists solemnly. "I would never dare to offend the Divine Lord!"

Old Man Yang sneered, "Words are useless. I will be watching your actions."

The old man obeyed and vanished in a flash.

After the ghostly figure from the miniature temple disappeared, Old Man Yang looked up at the thick canopy of the Haoran World, silent for a long time. Finally, he said helplessly, "If it were truly that 'three feet above the head there are gods, and people's actions are watched by heaven,' how could it have come to this?"

---

In a restaurant on the second floor of a small town outside Sword Water Manor, an old man and a young man sat facing each other by the window, eating hotpot. The table was full of dishes: spring bamboo shoots, arteria, lamb meat, goose intestines, duck blood...

And of course, two pots of good wine, along with a small dish of homemade spicy dipping sauce, bright red, enough to make someone who doesn't eat spicy food shudder. Chen Ping'an originally didn't eat this much spicy food, but he couldn't resist Old Song's urging. Old Song said that the restaurant had seven or eight different kinds of homemade spicy sauces, and missing any one would be a pity. So Chen Ping'an reluctantly added a spoonful of each to his dish.

Since Song Yushao never revealed his true identity in the town or outside the manor, the plump restaurant owner didn't know he was the Sword Saint of the Comb Water Kingdom, nor did he know he was the old master of Sword Water Manor. He only knew that this old brother Song was a connoisseur and a true gourmet who wouldn't waste his hotpot and good wine. So every time he saw the old man bringing a friend, he was delighted. He personally led them to the second floor, picked a good seat, and served the dishes and wine himself, not letting any waiter do it.

Chen Ping'an was sweating profusely, his face flushed red. But he couldn't resist the delicious food. Besides, this time he was paying. If he didn't eat as much as possible, he would feel cheated.

Song Yushao watched the boy eat heartily, occasionally stupidly taking a sip of wine when the spice became too much, only to make it even spicier. It was both painful and pleasurable, but the boy never wanted to put down his chopsticks. He stared intently at the food in the pot that was ready to be picked up. Song Yushao's mood improved greatly. Compared to his usual times eating and drinking alone here, the old man picked up his chopsticks much faster this time.

Song Yushao raised a glass of wine, no longer calling himself "this old man." He suddenly said, "Chen Ping'an, according to the old rules, I shouldn't have been in the waterside pavilion. A martial artist breaking through, like a mountain qi warrior in seclusion, abhors and hates onlookers. So I'll punish myself with a drink."

The old man downed the wine in one gulp.

Chen Ping'an quickly raised his glass, swallowed the food in his mouth, and drank with him. Then he refilled his glass and toasted the old man. "If not for you, Senior, I definitely wouldn't have been able to step across the threshold of the fourth realm today. I should toast to you, Senior."

The old man also drank.

Song Yushao looked out the window at the bustling street. Occasionally, his gaze lingered on someone; those who met his eyes would slightly change expression and quickly look down.

Song Yushao smiled faintly, withdrew his gaze, and said, "The reason I went to the waterside pavilion was that there was something I had to tell you face to face. Regardless of whether you broke through today or not, you must leave the manor tonight. You cannot attend tomorrow's martial alliance leader ceremony."

Chen Ping'an continued to pour wine, but his speed of picking up vegetables slowed a little. He asked softly, "Someone wants to harm the manor?"

Song Yushao did not hide anything and said frankly with a smile, "The background is huge, the momentum is huge. But it has nothing to do with you, Chen Ping'an."

The old man raised his glass and took a sip. "This is not to look down on you and your friends. It's some family business of Sword Water Manor that is inconvenient for friends in the martial world to interfere in. But regardless, as the host, it's not honorable to kick out a guest. So I still need to punish myself with a drink. Chen Ping'an, feel free to drink as you like."

Chen Ping'an did as he pleased, just taking a small sip.

The old man didn't mind and continued to pick up a piece of fresh goose intestine with his chopsticks, blanched it in the hotpot for a while, then dipped it in the spicy sauce. He stirred it gently, rolled it in the sauce, then lifted it to his mouth.

Chen Ping'an wanted to say something but stopped himself.

Song Yushao smiled. "Let's just eat. No more talking about business. In this world, only beautiful women, beautiful scenery, and beautiful food should not be let down."

Chen Ping'an buried his head in eating, occasionally drinking.

All feasts must end.

No matter how delicious the hotpot, there comes a time for the last chopstick.

Full and satisfied, Chen Ping'an put down his chopsticks. He had also finished one pot of wine. This was the first time he had drunk a full pound and a half of wine in one go. Not only his face, but even his ears and neck were bright red. He was quite drunk. "That father and daughter from Horizontal Sword Manor didn't seem to cause me any trouble."

Song Yushao smiled softly. "Green mountains and clear waters, there will be a day to meet again. Feuds in the martial world are the same. Fortunately, you are not from the Comb Water Kingdom. You'll leave soon, and you may never come again. Otherwise, you'd have plenty of trouble."

Song Yushao remembered something. "That incident in the waterside pavilion, you seemed to have a belly full of anger. I'm a bit puzzled. If I, Song Yushao, were just an ordinary martial artist and an onlooker, logically speaking, without knowing your background, Wang Yiran, the master of Horizontal Sword Manor—a renowned martial arts grandmaster—treated you, a young man, with respect. He didn't bully you with his power and was even willing to apologize for his daughter. Why did you still seem... dissatisfied?"

Chen Ping'an burped, took off the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist, but didn't drink. He thought for a moment and said seriously, "I don't have a problem with Wang Yiran. But I feel there's something wrong in all of this."

Song Yushao asked curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

Chen Ping'an subconsciously took another sip of wine. Emboldened by the drunken haze, he slowly said, "I once heard an old gentleman talk about order. I haven't studied much. I know few characters, so my understanding is very shallow. But when I have nothing to do, I like to think about these teachings. I feel that right and wrong have an order, and of course, they also have a magnitude. You can't use a later 'right' to cover up a previous 'wrong.' Even if the later 'right' is big and the earlier 'wrong' is small, you still have to dissect the earlier small 'wrong' first, fully explain the reasoning, so that the later 'right' can truly stand firm. This is like... a person cannot walk by hopping."

"But what I've figured out may not make sense. Because on this southward journey, I've read many books, and none of them talk about these things. So I've never been sure if I'm right or wrong. But if I apply my reasoning to the waterside pavilion incident, it means you, Wang Yiran, didn't need to apologize to me. You just needed to have your daughter step forward and say 'I'm sorry' to me—just three words. Otherwise, in the end, you, Wang Yiran, a great grandmaster of the martial world, apologize on behalf of someone else. Do I have to accept it? Even if I give way and accept, it doesn't mean your daughter wasn't wrong. I don't think so. No matter how right you, Wang Yiran, were, your daughter's words and actions were wrong. That is wrong. Today is like this, tomorrow is like this, and ten years from now, if it were someone else, that woman named Wang Shanhu with the saber at her waist, she might still be wrong."

Chen Ping'an held the wine gourd in one hand and scratched his head with the other. "Senior Song, I'm just talking nonsense. Don't laugh at me."

Song Yushao was first stunned, then bewildered, and finally dazed. He felt as if the martial world he had defined had been turned upside down.

In the end, Song Yushao looked back on his life, especially the unbearable memories of his son Song Gaofeng. The old man had been reluctant to think about it and unwilling to delve into the grudges and love-hate relationships. But until today, until this moment, this old man finally found where his knot was, why he felt so guilty and regretful, yet never knew how to untie it.

His eyes reddened, his hands trembling, he picked up his chopsticks, fished a piece of food from the bottom of the hotpot, put it in his mouth, and slowly chewed. Gradually, a smile appeared on his face.

The old rules that old martial artists held as golden rules, the principles revered as golden laws by the previous generation—turns out, they could also be wrong!

Back then, what had my son Song Gaofeng done wrong? Even if he was wrong, it was this damn martial world that was wrong first!

The former martial alliance leader, who came from a military background, was the one in the wrong. That feud was never about one arm!

It was about your daughter! She owed my son Song Gaofeng and my daughter-in-law a 'sorry'!

Face to face with a young boy, Song Yushao, weeping bitterly without feeling ashamed, slowly put down his chopsticks, stood up, and said to Chen Ping'an with a hearty laugh, "This meal, I, Song Yushao, invite you on behalf of my son and daughter-in-law, on behalf of my Sword Water Manor!"

The entire second floor of the restaurant was in an uproar.

Because of Song Yushao and those seven characters: Sword Water Manor!

This meant half a century of romance in the martial world of the Comb Water Kingdom.

Finally, the old man clasped his hands to Chen Ping'an. "I have words to say to my grandson, so I'll return to the manor first. I may not be able to say goodbye to you later, so let me use that old martial world saying: The green mountains remain unchanged, the clear waters flow long. I hope we meet again!"

Chen Ping'an stood up in confusion, watching the old man leap out the window and fly across the rooftops.

Song Yushao had worn that rusty iron sword at his waist for many years. Today, under everyone's gaze, he flew all the way to the manor gate, then strode across the threshold, ignoring any greetings or flattery. He went directly to a small courtyard that had been uninhabited for many years and found the young man standing there with his eyes closed, his grandson Song Fengshan.

Song Fengshan opened his eyes, silent, just as when he was young, standing by his parents' sickbed.

Song Yushao took off the iron sword at his waist, held it in one hand, and offered it to the cold-faced Song Fengshan. The latter asked, "Why?"

Song Yushao said solemnly, "This is your father Song Gaofeng's sword. A son inheriting his father's enterprise means it should be handed to you, Song Fengshan."

Song Fengshan did not reach out to take the sword. He sneered, "Oh, another strange thing. First, Grandpa comes early to celebrate his grandson's alliance leader ceremony. Now, he hands me a broken iron sword. What, has Grandpa finally decided to lay down the burden of being the Sword Saint of the Comb Water Kingdom and the old master of Sword Water Manor, wanting to enjoy his grandchildren?"

The young man had his hands behind his back, eyes sharp, but his face was full of smiles. "It's just too bad that this unfilial grandson has to inform Grandpa of some bad news. The emperor has personally issued several secret edicts. Nearly ten thousand elite court troops have gathered outside the prefecture city. I imagine tomorrow, the army will press down on us, to eradicate this rebellious new alliance leader of the martial world. Grandpa, I don't expect you to help. Truly, this is from my heart. I only ask you to stand by and do nothing from start to finish. Just don't gift me another sword."

Song Yushao gazed at his grandson's face, laughed heartily, took a step forward, and heavily slapped him on the shoulder. Hiding neither his smile nor his relief, the old man said in a low voice, "You are truly the son of Song Gaofeng and Liu Qian! Grandpa knows that the one leading the army this time is precisely the husband of that woman, the general Chu Hao."

Song Fengshan's face was full of confusion, his brows furrowed.

Song Yushao laughed. "Since that vicious-hearted woman has gone too far, I, Song Yushao, taking this opportunity, also have a truth I want to make clear to the martial world and the court!"

The old man's eyes were moist. Still holding the sword with one hand, he raised his other hand to gently smooth his grandson's furrowed brows, murmuring, "All these years, Grandpa should have done something for you."

The young man stepped back, lowered his head, raised one hand, and covered his face with his arm.

The old man said softly, "Fengshan, from now on, Grandpa won't nag you about those old rules anymore. But I still hope you'll listen one last time. Old martial arts might have their wrongs, but the things that are right and good, I hope you won't completely reject them when you're in the martial world."

The old man placed the old iron sword, which his grandson refused to take, on the stone table in the courtyard, then walked alone toward the gate. During this time, the old man looked toward the main house, but the words on his lips never came out.

Song Fengshan asked in a hoarse voice, "Grandpa, where are you going?"

The old man strode forward, laughing. "Grandpa's sword has been left in the pool beneath the waterfall all these years. I'm going to retrieve it!"

Song Fengshan stood still, not moving, until the old man's figure faded away.

The main house door slowly opened, and a young woman walked out. "Aren't you going to stop Grandpa?"

Song Fengshan wiped away his tears, gently pressed his hand on the sword on the table, and smiled confidently. "Since we've already planned this and everything is under control, don't you want to see one man and one sword stand in front of the army, stopping thousands of troops in their tracks? I, as his grandson, do. I've secretly longed for it all these years."

The young woman asked with curiosity, "How did the old ancestor come to understand?"

Then she said with some worry, "From now on, the old ancestor might not like the things our manor does."

Song Fengshan snorted coldly. "At worst, I'll let Grandpa stab me a few more times. If it comes to that, I'll take out my father's sword and see if the old man can still bear to strike hard!"

The woman teased, "Oh, you haven't called him 'Grandpa' in over twenty years, and now the sun is rising from the west. Calling him that so smoothly."

Song Fengshan turned and glared at her.

The young woman smiled sweetly.

In fact, she was a Da Li death warrior. One day, when the Da Li cavalry stepped onto the central territory of Treasure Vase Continent, she would be able to openly display the "Peace and No Trouble" token that the Da Li court issued to mountain people.

Song Fengshan knew this in his heart.

The next day, the election of a new martial alliance leader for the Comb Water Kingdom proceeded as scheduled at Sword Water Manor.

On the road from a prefecture city of the Comb Water Kingdom to Sword Water Manor, cavalry galloped, dust flying, blotting out the sky and the sun.

Among the army, a general in shining heavy armor rode a tall horse. The man had a smile on his lips, looking into the distance, full of ambition. After crushing that damn Sword Water Manor this time, he would be the undisputed number one in military merit in the Comb Water Kingdom.

The general suddenly squinted.

Before the army.

An old man in black, known as the Sword Saint of the Comb Water Kingdom, had retrieved his sword from the waterfall and now stood before the troops, blocking their way.

Behind the old man, a distant figure followed—a young man with a wine gourd at his waist and a sword on his back.

Before throwing a punch at the thousands of troops, the young man took off his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, raised his head, and took a big drink of wine. How satisfying, how satisfying.