Chapter 261: A Sword Comes from the Sea of Clouds

Chapter 261: A Sword Comes from the Sea of Clouds

Zheng Dafeng looked up at the sea of clouds above Old Dragon City and suddenly said, "Why isn't she wearing a skirt?"

The Yin god from the small temple slowly materialized in the courtyard, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Zheng Dafeng withdrew his gaze and asked with a smile, "Old Zhao, if I ask you something, will you refuse to answer?"

The Yin god shook his head. "I know no more about the man Fan Junmao than you do. However, back then in the small temple, I once heard a deceased itinerant sword immortal mention a piece of gossip that might not be true."

Zheng Dafeng perked up. "Tell me about it. Anyway, the two of us brothers have nothing better to do all day..."

The Yin god sneered. "You're the one with nothing to do. I'm very busy—needle-and-thread work isn't the same as fighting and killing. No, that's not right either. You're actually quite busy every day, busy trading vulgar jokes with a bunch of market women. The gentleman moves his mouth but not his hands—you really should go to Guanhu Academy."

Zheng Dafeng laughed. "Old Zhao, you should say fewer things that hurt feelings. The fact that we can work together is a great stroke of fate."

The Yin god shot back, "It's just an ill-fated bond."

Zheng Dafeng shook his head and pointed at the sea of clouds. "She and I are the ill-fated bond. You and I are a good bond."

Earlier, when Fan Junmao entered the Dust Pharmacy, the Yin god had automatically dispersed. This was both courtesy and rule. So he hadn't heard the conversation between the two, but he could tell it had ended on a sour note. Moreover, that eldest daughter of the Fan family had advanced at a terrifying pace—from the Cavern Dwelling realm when Fan Junmao and Zheng Dafeng first met, to returning to Old Dragon City and standing at the alley pharmacy's door as a Golden Core realm cultivator. This rate of realm ascension could no longer be explained by some rare born-to-cultivate genius; it was too shocking. The Yin god surnamed Zhao couldn't help but think of a certain young girl who had grown up in the Lizhu Cavern Heaven. On the mountain path of cultivation, all enviable and astonishing talents might be no match for a light four-character phrase: "born with innate knowledge."

Shocking beyond belief?

The Yin god sighed inwardly.

Fortunately, such people were few and far between across the five lakes, four seas, and nine continents.

Zheng Dafeng reminded him, "Hey, hey, Old Zhao, wake up, stop daydreaming. Keep going—what inside story did that miserable itinerant sword immortal who died in Lizhu Cavern Heaven reveal about the Fu family's half-immortal artifact, that sea of clouds?"

The Yin god said, "I don't want to talk anymore. I have things to do."

And with that, he vanished.

Zheng Dafeng's face went blank, then he roared, "Damn you!"

All for nothing that I thought so highly of Zhao Yao, who shares your surname.

The bamboo curtain lifted, revealing the delicate, pretty face of a young girl—the same one who liked to sit by Zheng Dafeng and crack melon seeds. She smiled and said, "Shopkeeper, are you trying to claim me as an elder?"

Zheng Dafeng put away his old tobacco pipe, stood up, rubbed his hands together, and scampered over to the girl. "Claim you as an elder? That would be too distant."

The girl blinked. "If being relatives is too distant, then what wouldn't be distant?"

Zheng Dafeng made a move to put his arm around the girl's shoulder. She ducked, stepped back twice, and smiled charmingly. "What, you want to marry me?"

Zheng Dafeng withdrew his hand awkwardly. "Brother and sister, brother and sister. Between husband and wife, there's mutual respect, which is also distant."

The man went to lean on the counter and gazed at the shop full of graceful figures. "A garden full of spring colors can't be contained, huh?"

He suddenly laughed. "They say, 'Better to give a son a thousand gold than to teach him a skill. Better to teach him a skill than to give him a good name.' Sisters, have you heard that old saying?"

Only the girl from whom Zheng Dafeng had stolen that book could read and understand words, but she didn't feel like entertaining him. The book had later been shamelessly borrowed by the shopkeeper, who then had no intention of returning it. A pharmacy shopkeeper swindling a shop assistant out of a few dozen copper coins—shameless! Later, the man simply claimed he had lost it, which made her so angry she grabbed a broom and beat him. The man then said the cost of the book would be deducted from next month's wages, counted as a hundred copper coins. The girl relented—she had already read the book anyway, and if it were left at home, her parents, who had always favored her younger brother, might scold her for being wasteful.

Seeing no one respond, the man had to resort to his trump card. "That Fan boy who often comes to our pharmacy—don't you want to know his name?"

All the women looked at him.

Zheng Dafeng said gloatingly, "It's Fan Er. Er, as in one, two, three. Isn't this a fine name? Matches the boy's appearance well, doesn't it?"

Not a single one was willing to believe him. They took it as the shopkeeper deliberately teasing them.

Zheng Dafeng said no more about Fan Er and muttered to himself, "That Fan boy practices martial arts and will inherit the family business as a concubine's son in the future. As for his sister, that girl's name isn't bad—deep roots, lush branches. The Fan family... they have some taste."

Zheng Dafeng pressed one side of his face against the tabletop and looked out at the alley beyond the pharmacy. A storm was coming.

The eldest daughter of the Yunlin Jiang family was marrying into Old Dragon City's Fu family.

Her dowry would be beyond imagination.

He just didn't know what pretext the Fu family would use to stir up this bloody storm, eventually dominating Old Dragon City alone, or perhaps together with another family.

Zheng Dafeng smiled. This murky business—what did it have to do with him?

He glanced at a woman and thought to himself, maybe I should spend some of my own money to buy some expensive, form-fitting dresses? Give them to wear? In the heat of summer, a little sweat would make their curves even more pronounced and exquisite. Zheng Dafeng chuckled and wiped his mouth.

This was the life of an immortal!

What demon-suppressing generals nailed to pillars with swords, what gleaming frost-white armor, what Fan Junmao who could see through fate... When the time came, he'd deal with it then.

---

A Golden Core realm sword cultivator, using a wisp of sword aura containing the true meaning of the sword, attacked the soul of a Fourth Realm martial artist with lightning speed, without any warning.

Ma Zhi knew Chen Ping'an's Third Realm foundation was extremely solid, but he still found it incredible.

At the very least, there should have been a stumble, right?

Chen Ping'an mistakenly thought that this nearly three-hundred-year-old old immortal had been too lenient in this "ambush." He smiled and said, "Mr. Ma, it's fine. I went through a lot of hardship tempering my soul at the Third Realm, so I can endure pain. As long as the sword aura doesn't harm the foundation of my martial arts, feel free to go all out."

"Be careful." Ma Zhi nodded, thought for a moment, and extended one hand. With two fingers, he pinched out three wisps of sword aura from his natal flying sword, Cool Shade. He rolled them into three pearl-sized spheres that emitted a faint, cold green light, as if plucked from a cool tree shade. The old sword cultivator bent his fingers and flicked them swiftly three times. The three spheres of Cool Shade sword aura, condensed from sword aura, made a faint tinkling sound as they entered Chen Ping'an's body, targeting his three souls: Celestial Essence, Frosty Spirit, and Dark Essence.

This time, Chen Ping'an was prepared. He assumed a sword furnace stance and stood firm. Outside the door of his heart, there came three knocks, as if someone was piercing the door of his heart with a sharp, cold implement, nailing into his soul and making him involuntarily want to shiver. Chen Ping'an's expression remained unchanged. He had his own method of dealing with it. His pure true qi, like a fiery dragon, surged swiftly from elsewhere and instantly smoothed over the three depressions formed by the cold sword intent.

Chen Ping'an said, "Mr. Ma, come again."

The old sword cultivator maintained his composure, but inwardly he was growing suspicious. He didn't speak. He pressed his two fingers together and gently wiped them across his natal flying sword. This time, instead of the immortal technique of condensing sword aura into pearls, he directly peeled off an entire strip of sword aura from Cool Shade. It didn't rush toward Chen Ping'an immediately but floated slightly, emitting a chill that turned the already cool Gui Vein courtyard from high summer back to the chill of early spring.

That strip of sword aura hovered between them, ready to strike.

Ma Zhi said slowly, "Celestial Essence is born from a person's primal origin soul. Most sword cultivators in the world use their natal flying sword as a congenital sword furnace. Once the sword is formed, this place serves as both scabbard and sword-nurturing ground. The three souls drift erratically within the human body—snakes have their paths, rats have their ways, and the three souls are no exception, each having its own rough soul path. Earlier, I tapped on your heart's door with sword aura pearls, merely three small appetizers. Now is the main course. I will increase the force slightly, and the weight of the sword intent contained within will be much heavier. Chen Ping'an, prepare yourself!"

Chen Ping'an subconsciously nodded.

The moment Chen Ping'an made that subtle movement, the old man's lips twitched. The sword aura turned insubstantial and, like a force splitting bamboo, drilled into Chen Ping'an's body. He said with a smile, "In the future, when facing a sword cultivator in a life-and-death battle, don't be so distracted..."

Pure martial artists were the most extreme group under heaven. They tempered their bodies, qi, and spirit in three stages across nine realms, progressing from the external to the internal, each layer feeding back into the body. As a result, their physical strength was naturally more impressive than that of Qi refiners. In the final analysis, in the eyes of mountain cultivators, they pursued not the Great Dao but themselves. In fact, a martial artist's lifespan was extremely short—three hundred years was the peak, far less than that of Qi refiners.

Compared to Qi refiners, who cultivated both internally and externally, the pure martial artist's physical body was too "heavy in qi," becoming a burden. Moreover, the path of martial arts was too low, and martial artists were too stubborn. The tempering of their souls was done solely by their own strength, using that one mouthful of pure true qi to rely on themselves.

Euphemistically speaking, they didn't borrow power from heaven and earth.

Unlike Qi refiners, who built a Bridge of Long Life, connecting the internal and external cavern heavens, using the abundant spiritual qi of the great heaven-and-earth cavern heaven to irrigate and temper the soul of the small human cavern heaven. With heaven and earth working together, it was naturally easier to achieve longevity and immortality.

At this moment, Chen Ping'an felt a cramping pain in his soul—one he himself had caused.

Unfortunately, Chen Ping'an's sword furnace remained unmoved, as steady as a mountain.

Ma Zhi raised an eyebrow.

Although he had held back a great deal of force, with the vision of a Golden Core realm cultivator, the flaws at the peak of a Fourth Realm martial artist were as large as dustpans, leaking everywhere, full of loopholes. So Chen Ping'an's nod had been an opportunity. But Ma Zhi had already overestimated the physical foundation of the sword-carrying youth before him—and it still wasn't enough, far from enough. Chen Ping'an, in the bamboo tower of the Lost Soul Mountain, had endured the pounding of a "Divine Man's Drumbeat Style" from a Tenth Realm martial artist surnamed Cui. His three souls and seven spirits had suffered the "Cloud-Steaming Great Marsh Style" and the "Iron Cavalry Wedge Formation Style"—all the essence of the old man's lifelong martial arts, moves he still prided himself on even at the peak of Tenth Realm.

At that time, to endure more of the Divine Man's Drumbeat Style, Chen Ping'an's every breath and the Eighteen Halts sword aura had already become perfectly natural. Afterwards, he had suffered the pain of muscle cramps and skin peeling, countless stabbings and piercings of the heart. Although it was far from the "Flawless Golden Body" of the Seventh Realm martial artist's peak, Ma Zhi's thin wisp of sword aura simply couldn't find Chen Ping'an's weakness—unless he relied on overwhelming force to break through.

The strongest Third Realm under heaven—its gold content was extremely high.

But the barefoot old man who taught the boxing method disdained to mention it.

Ma Zhi developed a competitive spirit. He pulled out three more wisps of sword aura from his natal flying sword, turned them insubstantial, and sent them into Chen Ping'an's body. This time, three swords struck simultaneously. He didn't believe Chen Ping'an's three soul routes were truly impeccable.

Chen Ping'an remained unmoved, as if about to speak but stopping himself. This time, he didn't dare to actively ask Old Sword Immortal Ma to increase the force. He felt it might make the old man lose face, which wasn't appropriate. But although those three wisps of sword aura were sharp and sinister, like oxen plowing a field, forcing three furrows along the fleeting, ethereal paths within his body, like three winter streams flowing across his heart—chilling to the bones—this kind of suffering was still an "appetizer" for Chen Ping'an, given what he had endured back in the bamboo tower.

Ma Zhi also sensed something was wrong. He had to once again raise his estimation of Chen Ping'an's Fourth Realm. He glanced at the flying sword Cool Shade, trembling slightly before him, took a deep breath, and said, "Chen Ping'an, I am about to forcibly turn Cool Shade insubstantial and squeeze it into your soul. This pain of ripping open your heart—you must be mentally prepared. If you can't endure it, you must speak up. Because although Cool Shade is my natal flying sword and connected to my mind, entering your soul is like breaking into someone else's cavern heaven. Blocked by your soul, it will greatly affect my connection with Cool Shade. In ordinary combat, I wouldn't care about anything as long as it caused havoc. But between you and me, it's different. So don't be brave."

Chen Ping'an withdrew his sword furnace stance, stepped back, and assumed an ancient boxing stance. One hand clenched into a fist and pressed against his heart, the other fist raised above his head.

If he lifted one leg, it would somewhat resemble a heavenly king statue in a Buddhist temple—similar in form but vastly different in essence. This boxing stance was the "Cloud-Steaming Great Marsh Style" that had twice repelled the golden sea-cloud dragon in the ancestral residence of the Sun family.

When Chen Ping'an transformed from the Mountain-Toppling Sword sword furnace into this boxing stance, his aura changed completely.

He was no longer the sunny youth chatting and laughing with the boy Fan Er in Ma Zhi's eyes, nor the composed, restrained youth when walking or standing in his stance.

He was like...

This fist was about to be thrown, but not yet.

Just the stance alone.

What tremendous spirit! If those few Seventh Realm martial arts grandmasters of Old Dragon City, or that hidden Eighth Realm grandmaster who had been in seclusion for years, had such a startling posture—the product of decades or even centuries of hammering and countless peak life-and-death battles—it would be understandable. But how old was this youth before him?

Ma Zhi didn't know how many times today he had felt shocked.

Chen Ping'an's mind was completely immersed. No more flying sword Cool Shade, no more Golden Core realm sword cultivator.

Only the barefoot old man's violent laughter in the bamboo tower, his boldness filling the air as he beat Chen Ping'an until he wished he were dead, cursing him as a cowardly girl. Mixed in were heartfelt words the old man wasn't even addressing to Chen Ping'an, but shouting at the entire world.

When this fist was thrown, it would knock the divine being who descended with heavenly might back to the Celestial Court!

To create a clear distinction between heaven and earth, with this fist standing tall between them!

Chen Ping'an blurted out, "Please, draw your sword!"

Hearing a junior youth speak with such provocative intent, the old sword cultivator showed no displeasure. With a thought, the flying sword Cool Shade turned from solid to insubstantial, like an iron cavalry charging to conquer new territory for its lord.

Chen Ping'an's face paled slightly. He clenched his fists, the boxing stance shifting slightly, and he stomped his foot heavily.

The ground of the courtyard trembled slightly. His towering, mountain-like fist intent spread downward like the roots of a mountain.

Ma Zhi frowned slightly. Facing the youth, the old man pressed his two fingers downward, as if a martial artist using a long sword to disembowel an enemy.

Chen Ping'an's eyes widened. He gritted his teeth, his cheeks bulging. The boxing stance changed again—still Cloud-Steaming Great Marsh, but contracting, the distance between his fists drawing closer.

At the same time, all the fist intent that had flowed outside his body rapidly converged back inside, like two palms suddenly clapping together to swat a fly.

"Such arrogance is unwise."

Ma Zhi sneered. He pressed his two fingers together and lifted them upward, silently increasing the weight of his natal flying sword's intent.

Chen Ping'an's shoulders shook slightly. One fist suddenly thrust out, fist intent surging, straight up into the sky. It struck the ancestral osmanthus tree shadow that had covered the courtyard's atmosphere. In that moment, it revealed its true form. It had been like a water curtain covering the Gui Vein, and it was struck by a blast of fist force, rippling repeatedly, causing the scene outside the courtyard to blur.

The old man fumed inwardly, "I refuse to believe that a dignified Golden Core realm sword cultivator cannot teach a mere Fourth Realm martial artist!"

The old man stepped back solemnly, one hand behind his back, the other forming a sword seal. With a stern expression, he said, "Chen Ping'an, the real trial of the sword begins now! The flying sword Cool Shade will alternate between solid and insubstantial, tempering both your body and soul. Focus on your opponent!"

The youth's eyes were resolute. He didn't speak, only withdrew the ancient boxing stance and slid backward inch by inch—smooth as flowing water, a pleasure to behold.

The sword intent of sword cultivators in the world was myriad and vastly different.

The true meaning of the sword that Golden Core sword cultivator Ma Zhi had comprehended was that his natal Cool Shade sword came forth, wishing that there would be no more sweltering summers in the mortal world, that wherever the flying sword passed, it would be a cool, refreshing refuge.

---

Not far from the Gui Vein courtyard, in an ordinary yard, the osmanthus girl Jinsu was eating a slice of sweet melon. On the island, there was a natural spring, and ice-chilled fruits were the most delicious. Jinsu's mentor, Aunt Gui, had long lost interest in worldly delicacies. Watching her proud disciple's cold, stunning face—even at this moment, eating something ordinary, she exuded a natural, pure beauty—Aunt Gui thought to herself, no wonder Sun Jiashu and Fu Nanhua, the two most outstanding young talents of Old Dragon City, had both been smitten with the same woman.

Did Sun Jiashu like Jinsu? Of course he did. But the woman didn't want to reveal the secrets of fate, because she didn't think Jinsu and Sun Jiashu could become a pair of immortal lovers. In her heart, as a husband for Jinsu, the brilliant Sun Jiashu, who had already stepped onto the stage, was the worst choice; Fu Nanhua was slightly better; the best was still Fan Er.

Unfortunately, love between men and women in this world was never determined by how good a man was or how suitable the two were.

Who was to blame for this?

Aunt Gui smiled wryly to herself. She actually knew who was first to blame, but now, it was hard to say.

A slight surprise escaped her, and she couldn't help but turn to look toward the Gui Vein courtyard.

Jinsu asked doubtfully, "Master, what's wrong?"

Aunt Gui smiled. "It seems you've underestimated that young man surnamed Chen."

Jinsu picked up another slice of sweet melon, refreshing and thirst-quenching, and said indifferently, "Even if he were higher than the sky, it has nothing to do with me."

Aunt Gui seemed to hear some inner thoughts. She nodded and said to Jinsu, "You have something to do. Go to the foot of the mountain first to pick up the herbs. Your Grandpa Ma left a message there; it should be ready by now. After you come back, wait until Grandpa Ma speaks, then prepare a large bucket of water for the Gui Vein courtyard."

Jinsu asked blankly, "What, that young guest needs to soak in medicinal water to temper his body? Isn't that something only martial artists at the Body Tempering realm need to do regularly?"

The woman looked reluctant. "Doing these things for a young man... Master, I feel a bit awkward. It's not that I'm a young lady with a maid's fate. I'm usually diligent enough—making tea and playing the zither for guests, sweeping the courtyard, playing chess with them, composing poetry... but preparing bathwater for someone, I..."

The woman smiled. "Then should Master do it herself?"

Jinsu sighed, carefully wiped her fingers, and said, "I'll go, alright."

Not long after Jinsu left the courtyard, she quickly returned, bringing a group of imposing guests from another continent. She was initially a bit uneasy, wondering why these people insisted on visiting "Aunt Gui," but when she saw that her master was already standing at the courtyard gate, she felt a little reassured. Deep down, Jinsu believed her master was all-powerful, far from an ordinary guest elder of the Fan family. Although her master never revealed her own lineage or cultivation journey, Jinsu was certain that, given her master's vision and tone, even if she weren't a Nascent Soul earth immortal, she was at least a Golden Core realm Qi refiner.

Not only was Osmanthus Island this cross-continent ferry, but the six ferries' shuttles between Old Dragon City and Inverted Suspension Mountain required at least one Golden Core realm cultivator to be stationed on board. Aunt Gui was publicly known as one of the Osmanthus Island stewards, a mere Ocean Observation realm Qi refiner. Now, with Grandpa Ma, Osmanthus Island actually had three Golden Core realm cultivators.

Jinsu didn't believe the sky could fall.

That group of people, six in total, included old and young, men and women, all from the southeastern Tongye Continent. They were the Fan family's biggest cooperative partners for this Osmanthus Island voyage. Nearly half of the Osmanthus Island's secret vaults and cellars had been taken over by them. As for what unique products of Tongye Continent those goods were, a mere osmanthus girl like Jinsu naturally couldn't know. She had only heard they were important figures from a sect-level immortal clan on Tongye Continent.

Regardless, since the master had appeared in person, Jinsu felt reassured and went to the foot of Osmanthus Island to fetch the herbs.

After she left, she couldn't help but look back. An extremely tall, thin old man, a head taller than the average Old Dragon City man, with white hair and a youthful face, was most conspicuous. He wore a pitch-black robe, spotless—undoubtedly a high-grade dharma robe.

The old man was guarding a young man closely. His appearance was ordinary, with very sparse eyebrows, but he had extremely narrow, long eyes. When he squinted at people, even Jinsu, a Cavern Dwelling realm cultivator, got goosebumps and dared not meet his gaze.

Aunt Gui smiled and asked, "May I ask why you have requested to see me specifically?"

The young man squinted, staring at her. "Are you Lady Gui?"

Aunt Gui said calmly, "I am."

The man's eyes grew intense. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Jiang Beihai, from the Jade Gui Sect. Our sect currently lacks a cross-continent ferry. I wonder if Lady Gui would be interested in joining the Jade Gui Sect?"

Aunt Gui remained silent.

The man laughed heartily. "All losses to the Fan family, all income from Osmanthus Island, calculated over a hundred years—I will compensate the Fan family fully, not a single copper coin less! I believe the Fan family dares not, is unwilling, and will not refuse my proposal. What do you think, Lady Gui?"

The East Treasure Vase Continent was the smallest of the nine continents. The neighboring southeastern Tongye Continent, however, was not small—even larger than the Fuyao Continent. Moreover, Tongye Continent had a relatively large number of cave heavens and blessed lands among the nine continents, with two of those blessed lands being of extremely high rank. So high that many cultivators from the Brahmapala Continent and Julu Continent would travel thousands of miles to Tongye Continent, each seeking something. In the end, those cultivators who descended as "banished immortals" into the blessed lands reaped far higher benefits than in many other blessed lands.

On the map of Tongye Continent, the Tongye Sect and Jade Gui Sect stood like two peaks, one in the north and one in the south.

The young man from Tongye Continent who had helped the Ding family escape disaster was from the Tongye Sect. A sect named after the continent, standing for thousands of years—this in itself was the best display of strength. This was similar to the northeastern Julu Continent, which dared to snatch the character "Bei" (North) from the Aiai Continent and call itself North Julu Continent.

A palace-dressed woman laughed. "Young Master Jiang, you've always kept to yourself in the sect. Our Jade Gui Sect, unlike the showy Tongye Sect, has always been friendly. I imagine Lady Gui hasn't heard much about us."

Aunt Gui shook her head. "The Jade Gui Sect—I know it like thunder. I've also heard of the Jiang family that controls the Cloud Cavern Blessed Land within the Jade Gui Sect, and that the Jiang family has been single-line for nearly a dozen generations."

The Jiang man smiled. "Since Lady Gui knows all this, yet maintains such a lukewarm attitude, you must think that the Jade Gui Sect and the Old Dragon City Fan family, being on different continents separated by Tongye Continent, are too far to reach you?"

With that, the Jiang man somewhat barefacedly bent over in apology, but his face displayed a cold grin. "Excuse me, excuse me—poor choice of words. Don't blame me, Lady Gui."

Aunt Gui remained calm and said softly, "Matters concerning Dao vows involve the essence of cultivation. They cannot be easily broken. I appreciate Young Master Jiang's kind intentions."

The man straightened up. "Oh?"

Aunt Gui suddenly smiled. "That vow still has a sixty-year term. If Young Master Jiang is truly sincere, why not wait a while?"

The young man burst into laughter. "Inviting Lady Gui to join the Jade Gui Sect isn't my sincerity, Jiang Beihai. If Lady Gui is willing, even marrying into the sect is possible."

Then he waved his hand dismissively and laughed. "Just joking—don't take it seriously. Rest assured, Lady Gui, both our Jade Gui Sect master and my Jiang family patriarch have admired you for a long time. I wouldn't dare to act rashly and offend you."

Aunt Gui maintained a smiling face, giving no fault to be found.

A woman's beauty, whether her face was stunning enough to topple cities, didn't necessarily decide everything.

That tall, thin old man's eyes showed admiration, but his tone was naturally indifferent as he said slowly, "Lady Gui has excellent bearing. As my young master said, the Jade Gui Sect is indeed sincerely inviting you. Please consider it seriously. I hope that sixty years from now, within the Jade Gui Sect's mountain gate, I can drink a cup of cassia wine brewed by Lady Gui's own hand."

Aunt Gui nodded lightly.

Thus, the two parties parted.

She walked slowly back into the courtyard, looked up in the direction of Old Dragon City, and felt a little helpless. Perhaps it was an illusion, but this woman seemed to have a touch of grievance.

Above the sea of clouds over Old Dragon City, a woman in a green robe lay back, floating in the clouds. She yawned lazily and said, "So many people seeking death. So boring, so boring—let's drink, let's drink..."

She picked up the ordinary wine jug, raised her arm, and found it completely empty. This made her inexplicably think of the subterranean river dragon path, where she had teased the little drunkard holding the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and drinking with his head tilted. What, had karma caught up so quickly? Thinking of this, she grew indignant. She sprang up like a carp, casually plucked a small cloud rich with rain intent from the sea of clouds, threw it into her mouth, swallowed it as wine, and chewed vigorously on the tasteless "cloud wine." Her mood turned foul.

She looked coldly at Osmanthus Island on the sea, then turned and hopped backward, skipping like a child in a market alley, from the southernmost edge of the sea of clouds all the way to the northernmost. She stopped, then charged forward rapidly, lifting her head high, assuming a posture as if about to throw a spear. Suddenly halting, she shouted, "Go!"

The sea of clouds churned like boiling water.

As the woman made this throwing motion, a snow-white sword, more than ten zhang long, torn from the clouds, flashed across the sky above Old Dragon City and disappeared.

On the sea, on the Osmanthus Island ferry, already far from Old Dragon City, the tall, thin old man from Jade Gui Sect suddenly slapped the Jiang family's legitimate son away.

Standing in Jiang Beihai's place, he raised both arms to block above his head. That dharma robe billowed violently, lightning and thunder crackling in his sleeves.

The entire Peach Blossom Island shook violently, sending up huge waves.

Jiang Beihai turned and stared blankly. The Nascent Soul old man's dharma robe was mostly destroyed, though it could still be repaired, but both arms were stripped of flesh and blood, bones exposed.

The old man coughed up a mouthful of blood, staring fixedly at the sky above Old Dragon City. He stretched out a gruesome arm and said in a deep voice, "Young master, stay where you are. Don't come near me, but don't move around either."

Inside Chen Ping'an's Sword-Nurturing Gourd hanging at his waist, the flying sword First was humming, as if meeting an old friend, overjoyed.

The woman who had originally planned to stop saw the old man's gesture of extending an arm. "Oh? Is this asking for another sword?"

This green-robed woman named Fan Junmao leaned back, tiptoed, and leaped backward violently. Then she repeated the same motion as before. Before throwing the sword, she laughed loudly, "Here you go!"

Then she crossed her arms over her chest, smirked at Osmanthus Island, and clicked her tongue. "Even a thousand years later, I still love these tough heroes who seem to be craning their necks every day, shouting, 'Come kill me, come kill me!'..."

On Osmanthus Island, Chen Ping'an quietly pressed his hand on the Sword-Nurturing Gourd. The first time, he hadn't had time to react. This time, he looked up in time and caught a trace of it.

While even a Golden Core realm old sword cultivator was shaken to his core.

Chen Ping'an had already closed his eyes, feeling the splendor of that sword with his heart.