Chapter 277: On the Ramparts, Two People, Fourth Realm, Three Battles

Chapter 277: On the Ramparts, Two People, Fourth Realm, Three Battles

On the table, a dazzling array of items lay spread out.
These were both Chen Ping'an's gains and his journey through the martial world.
A high-grade snake gallstone, which He Xiaoliang, a Daoist nun from the Shengao Sect, had returned to Chen Ping'an on the Kun ship back then, along with some ordinary snake gallstones that had already faded in color.
A golden Civil Courage given by Shen Wen, the City God of the Colorful Clothes Kingdom, with a small pile of golden and silver fragments of golden bodies placed beside it—silver fragments from civil and military adjutants, and the shattered golden body of the licentious shrine mountain god from Yanzhi County.
A seal that once belonged to a Grand Heavenly Master of the Dragon Tiger Mountain in a certain generation—according to Shen Wen, it required the Five Thunder Orthodox Method of Daoism to unleash its power. But what stuck most in Chen Ping'an's memory was this phrase: "Only the virtuous may wield it."
A small mountain of copper coins: Grain Rain coins, Minor Heat coins, Snow Flower coins.
A pile of small bamboo slips, some carved from ordinary bamboo, but most from the Qingshen Mountain bamboo left over from Wei Bo's construction of the bamboo tower. They were inscribed with famous sayings, admonitions, and excellent lines of poetry. There were passages from the sages' writings that Cui Chan had recited while practicing boxing with him, words from the talisman texts Li Xisheng had painted on the outer wall of the bamboo tower, excerpts Chen Ping'an had copied from landscape travelogues, and heedless remarks picked up from hearsay in the martial world...
A gamecock cup purchased at the ferry of the Combing Water Kingdom—worth little, but it was a rare extra expense for Chen Ping'an.
Two golden dragon whiskers gifted by the sword cultivator Zuo You, along with a golden dharma robe left behind after the death of the malicious old flood dragon, and an old bead that looked like a yellowed pill.
A white porcelain brush washer obtained from the Scorpion Lady assassin of the Ancient Elm Kingdom, which he hadn't sold at the Qingfu Workshop because Chen Ping'an liked the lively and spirited circle of text on it.
A copy of *Orthodox Sword Techniques* and a jade tablet sized like a *cun* (inch) object, both gifts from Zheng Dafeng of Old Dragon City.
A Confucian classic given by the old scholar of the Literary Saint lineage, along with a few landscape travelogues and literary notes obtained from the prefectural mansion of Yanzhi County.
A seal engraved with the characters "Calm Heart, Attain Intent."
A Water Seal that now seemed a bit lonely without its companion Mountain Seal.
Chen Ping'an had placed it at the spot closest to his hand.
And of course, the *Mountain-Shaking Fist Manual*, which had accompanied him the longest.

Ning Yao picked through the items, examining each one, and finally smiled. "All for me? Not keeping any secret savings?"
A trace of chagrin flickered in Ning Yao's heart.
"Secret savings" wasn't the right thing to say. In the future, when talking to Chen Ping'an, she couldn't be so thoughtless anymore.
Remember, this wasn't sword cultivation practice.

Chen Ping'an clearly didn't catch the deeper meaning in Ning Yao's words. He pointed at a few things and said earnestly, "You know about this *Mountain-Shaking Fist Manual*—it's not mine. I'm just keeping it for Gu Can, so I can't give it to you. The seal from Teacher Qi is also off-limits, and that Heavenly Master seal from the City God—I don't think it's appropriate for you either. As for the rest, if you want them, take them all."

Ning Yao pouted. "I'm not interested. Keep everything."

Chen Ping'an slapped his forehead, took off the "Jiang Gourd" sword-nurturing gourd from his waist, and placed it on the table. Then he pulled out from his sword case the talisman that housed the skeletal female ghost. He explained, "This sword-nurturing gourd was the prize for buying a few mountain peaks. Wei Bo, the mountain god, got it from the Great Li for me. Inside this talisman lives a rather fierce female ghost. With the help of Osmanthus Island, I signed a sixty-year contract with her. Now she resides in the sword case. Lady Gui calls it the 'Locust Residence'—a place for yin beings to nurture their souls and enhance their cultivation, like a small cave heaven blessed land exclusive to them."

Ning Yao asked, "Is the skeletal female ghost pretty?"

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "She's just so-so. Not as good-looking as the wedding-dress female ghost in that mountain villa. And the wedding-dress ghost isn't as attractive as you."

Ning Yao glared furiously. "Chen Ping'an, have you turned into such a smooth talker? Did you learn that from A Liang?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head with a smile. "Not at all. Those were all my genuine feelings. Sweet talk and smooth talk are different."

Ning Yao gave a dry laugh. "Then have you tricked the hearts of many girls?"

As she spoke, Ning Yao leaned over the table, turning her head to look at Chen Ping'an, who had grown much taller and whose skin had become a bit fairer. She seemed somewhat disheartened. "Now I can no longer take down five hundred of you in one hand. And since you've traveled across most of Baoping Continent, those girls from so many small places might have taken you for a celestial being and fallen for you."

Chen Ping'an quickly waved his hands. "No girl has fallen for me. On the road, it's either enemies to fight and kill, or people I meet by chance and will eventually part ways with."

Saying this, Chen Ping'an sighed and also leaned over the table, gently poking the sword-nurturing gourd with his finger. "When I left my hometown, I was on a Kun ship from Dajiao Mountain in Juluzhou. On it, I met a pair of sisters—one called Chunshui (Spring Water), the other Qiushi (Autumn Fruit), about my age. Later, the Kun ship crashed, and I might never see them again."

Chen Ping'an glanced at the unremarkable brush washer on the table.
It was less than a foot away from him.
But they were already far, far away from him.

Far from feeling that Chen Ping'an had ulterior motives, Ning Yao instead comforted him gently. "Partings in life and death are inevitable."
She still pressed one cheek against the tabletop. "Here at the Sword Qi Great Wall, whenever there's a battle—old and young, male and female—many die. People you don't know, people you do know. You can't afford to grieve, or you'll be the next to die. Only after the great war is over can the survivors spare time to mourn, but even then, not too much. Facing south from the Great Wall, at most you offer a cup of wine in remembrance. Everyone does the same."

Ning Yao's gaze was deep, like the iron-lock well in Chen Ping'an's hometown—dark and cool. "Like before, at the wine shop when I drank Forgetful Sorrow and casually mentioned that little incident—when drinking farewell wine with friends, someone would bring up my parents in a snide way. You asked if I was angry. Of course I was, but not as much as outsiders think. Why? Do you know?"

Chen Ping'an met her gaze, lying there, barely shaking his head.

Ning Yao gave the answer. "Because that person who said the bitter words will eventually die on the battlefield, and he will definitely go to his death generously, just like his ancestors. Thinking of that, I don't need to get too angry. A few words—light and airy, not as heavy as the sword qi around us. Maybe one day I'll fight alongside such people, or one of us will save the other, or I'll just have to watch helplessly as someone dies."

Chen Ping'an nodded, then sat up, shaking his head. "Miss Ning, if you think like that..."

Ning Yao rolled her eyes. "I don't want to hear reasoning. Don't bother me."

Other people's reasoning, she could ignore—from her family elders and ancestors, from the old sword immortal on the ramparts, from A Liang who saw her off when she left the Hanging Mountain, from her peers. But if Chen Ping'an were to speak, she would have to let him bother her. So it was better to make him stop from the start.

Chen Ping'an said, "Oh," and continued lying there, indeed not spouting the principles he had painstakingly learned from books.

Suddenly, Ning Yao sat up. "You really want to go to the Sword Qi Great Wall?"

Chen Ping'an sat up straight and nodded. "The old senior who taught me boxing said that if I can step onto the ramparts, it will help temper a martial artist's soul. As long as I don't die there, it's a great gain. And for some reason, after drinking that Forgetful Sorrow wine with the couple last time, I feel like from my current Fourth Realm to the Sixth Realm, there's an illusion of natural progression—as if I could easily break through if I wanted. But of course, I won't be foolish enough to just rush through realms. If I don't lay a solid foundation, it'll be trouble later. Still, I have an intuition that after drinking the fine wine from Yellow Millet Blessed Land, the two breakthroughs—Fourth to Fifth and Fifth to Sixth—will be much simpler before the Seventh Realm."

Ning Yao took the sword-nurturing gourd and shook it casually, her eyelashes trembling slightly. "Then you should thank them properly for granting you such an opportunity."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Of course. That's why going to the Sword Qi Great Wall this time—I'll see if I can run into them again."

Ning Yao thought for a moment and didn't say much.

Chen Ping'an felt a bit apprehensive. "But last time I was dragged to the Sword Qi Great Wall, it was terrible. I could barely stand. How could I step onto the ramparts?"

Ning Yao explained, "Actually, it's not as exaggerated or scary as you think. The ramparts are where the sword qi is most intense. If you enter from Daoxuan Mountain and walk step by step toward the ramparts, gradually adapting, it'll be much more bearable. The Sword Qi Great Wall is somewhat like the Beyond Heaven of the Qingming Heaven—a lawless place. Even sword cultivators at the Thirteenth Realm Ascension aren't forced to ascend. No one cares whether we live or die; even the Heavenly Dao doesn't bother with this place. That's why many outsider sword cultivators like to come here for training and to participate in battles. Those heavenly sword cultivators you saw above the Lizhu Cave sky back then were Qi refiners from Juluzhou. They came to help this time, and on the surface, the three waves of attacks from the demon race all failed, leaving tens of thousands of corpses beneath the ramparts—all turned into our capital for purchasing supplies from Daoxuan Mountain's ferries. But I don't think it's that simple. I believe Grandpa Chen, who dragged you to the Sword Qi Great Wall, and the other two saints stationed here can see it even more clearly."

Ning Yao smiled. "The higher a cultivator's realm—especially the Upper Five Realms, whether human or demon—the more they suffer from being unaccustomed when entering another's territory. That's the key to a saint occupying a region of heaven and earth, reaping the advantages of time and place. For example, Lu Chen, the Daoist leader of Qingming Heaven, when he entered Haoran Heaven before, should have been limited to the Thirteenth Realm at most. That was one of the earliest rules set by Saint Li. And Confucian saints entering Qingming Heaven are no exception. Among saints, there are conflicts of the Great Dao, but that doesn't mean they don't respect each other. You might not believe it, but even among the demon race there are beings our sword cultivators admire, even though they are enemies we must fight to the death on the battlefield. Similarly, many great demons admire some of our formidable sword cultivators."

"At our Sword Qi Great Wall, if you're not a sword cultivator—like you, a martial artist, or Qi refiners from the various schools of thought—life will be very hard. It could be a tremendous blessing, but it's more likely that the sword intent here will completely ruin your Great Dao foundation. Two examples: one, a cultivator at the Cave Dwelling Realm from Juluzhou who gradually became an Immortal Realm cultivator here; the other, an Immortal Realm cultivator from Fuyaozhou who not only failed to find a breakthrough opportunity but instead fell back to the Nascent Soul Realm."

Chen Ping'an suddenly said, "A Liang taught me the Eighteen Halts breathing and qi circulation method."

Ning Yao was stunned. "That guy treated you well. Here, only sword cultivators who have rendered great merit have the right to teach someone this method. They almost always pass it to their most favored disciples or family heirs. But don't get too excited—Eighteen Halts is more of a ceremonial thing. It's like saying that the Sword Qi Great Wall's legacy continues, that later generations inherit the sword intent of the earliest ancient sword immortals. In itself, Eighteen Halts isn't that brilliant a sword technique."

"The big families in the northern city each have genuine superior sword techniques. The Chen family's sword technique can strengthen bones, the Dong family's can cleanse marrow, the Qi family excels in refining the spirit, the Ning family sharpens the edge of a lifebound sword, the Yao family focuses on the interplay of sword qi's emptiness and solidity, and the Nalan family's sword technique complements intent with qi. They are all far better than what sword cultivators in Haoran Heaven can imagine. But no matter what, since you've learned Eighteen Halts, you'll adapt to the Sword Qi Great Wall much faster. That's a good thing."

Chen Ping'an grinned.

Ning Yao asked casually, "By the timeline, you've been learning it for almost two years. How many Halts have you completed? Fifteen, sixteen? You should at least have passed twelve Halts. After that, each Halt is harder to cross compared to before. After all, you weren't born and raised at the Sword Qi Great Wall, so being slower is normal. Some of my friends—Fatty took eight months to finish all eighteen Halts. Xiao Dong was a bit more talented, only six months. The rest took between nine months and a year. But Xiao Dong's sister was even more impressive—just three months. However, the Dong family has always kept it under wraps and won't reveal the truth. Among those my age, about thirty people have completed the Eighteen Halts. So our generation is considered the best in the three-thousand-year history of the Sword Qi Great Wall. The elders say that if we're given fifty or sixty years, the demon race won't see the top of the Sword Qi Great Wall in the next millennium."

Chen Ping'an's face went blank.

He had endured countless hardships just to barely break through the threshold of the Seventh Halt, managing to push through twelve Qi mansions in one go. Then came a heavy snow sealing the mountains—impenetrable and unmoving—making hope feel too remote.

When Ning Yao noticed Chen Ping'an's expression, she stopped. "Then I won't talk about me."

Chen Ping'an tentatively asked, "How long did you take?"

Ning Yao gave a tight, fake smile. "Heh heh."

Chen Ping'an refused to give up. "How long is 'heh heh'?"

Ning Yao suppressed her irritation for a long moment. Seeing that Chen Ping'an wasn't going to let it go, she had to answer honestly. "'Heh heh' is that long. I learned the Eighteen Halts as soon as I finished hearing the oral instructions."

Chen Ping'an let out a sigh of despair, took the sword-nurturing gourd, and drank a mouthful of wine silently. "When I first got the *Mountain-Shaking Fist Manual*, learning boxing was like this. Now with the Eighteen Halts, practicing the sword is the same. Will I never be able to catch up to you? Then how can I become a great sword immortal..."

But before Ning Yao could say anything, Chen Ping'an had already reasoned it out. "But it's fine. A meal must be eaten bite by bite. Other people's achievements are theirs. My own improvement, however slow, is something I know. Even if it's slow, it's okay. I promised you I'd punch a million times. Back then, I couldn't even imagine I'd finish that many in a lifetime. Now there are only twenty thousand left. Who knows what the future holds?"

Ning Yao asked, "Other people?!"

Chen Ping'an, realizing he'd said the wrong thing, smiled sheepishly and let out a "heh heh."

Ning Yao thought for a moment. "Then how about going to the Sword Qi Great Wall earlier?"

Chen Ping'an took off the jade tablet from his waist and hesitated. "But I'm supposed to enter the pass at midnight tomorrow."

Ning Yao stood up briskly. "Pack your things. I'll take you there. That Scale Flood Dragon Lord said to come find him if there's anything, right? Daoxuan Mountain said it itself—they can't go back on their word. Let's go."

Chen Ping'an had nothing to leave behind at Daoxuan Mountain anyway. He figured that starting his fist practice on the ramparts earlier would be a good thing. He gathered all the items on the table into his Flying Sword Fifteen. When Ning Yao saw this lifebound flying sword, she reminded him, "It's both a flying sword and a *cun*-sized object—very rare. Treasure it."

Even Ning Yao used the word "rare," which meant it was far beyond ordinary pricelessness. Chen Ping'an nodded and made a mental note.

He first went to tell Jin Su that he would be leaving early for the Sword Qi Great Wall.

The Osmanthus Island young lady stood at her own door, a mix of emotions. Finally, she smiled and bid farewell to Chen Ping'an and Miss Ning.

Leaving the Stork Inn near Zhuofang Ferry, Ning Yao led Chen Ping'an to the foot of Lone Peak. The young Daoist boy, who held the second seat at Daoxuan Mountain, glanced at the boy's irregular pass jade, then at the girl's expression of natural entitlement. Infuriated, the boy jumped up from his cushion again. Fortunately, Chen Ping'an quickly explained, "Honored Immortal, we met the Scale Flood Dragon Lord at Leize Terrace earlier. He told Miss Ning that his master had issued a decree to make an exception for her. If you're not comfortable, you can discuss it with the Flood Dragon Lord. If it's really not possible, I'll just take the path tomorrow night."

The young Daoist boy cast a sidelong glance at Chen Ping'an. "Who are you? This little girl's lover?"

Chen Ping'an just blinked and played dumb, saying nothing.

The boy silently communicated with the Scale Flood Dragon Lord, who was technically his junior disciple in terms of seniority. After a brief exchange, he sized up Ning Yao and Chen Ping'an again. "You two may pass through to the Sword Qi Great Wall."

Having made up his mind, the boy no longer troubled them. He plopped back onto his cushion and, probably because the girl was too infuriating, leaned backward, sprawling out with limbs splayed, lying lazily on the cushion. He opened a Daoist scripture and covered his face with it—out of sight, out of mind.

Ning Yao reached out and took Chen Ping'an's hand, speaking softly. "Remember, once you step into the Sword Qi Great Wall, it's normal for sword qi seawater to pour back into your Qi mansions. You can't panic. The more you panic, the more chaotic your qi will become—just a mess."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Got it. I'll treat it like throwing a pot on the wheel. As long as my heart is steady, everything will be steady."

Ning Yao shot him a glare. "Muddy-legged kid!"

Chen Ping'an smiled, holding her hand.

Ning Yao quickened her pace, pulling Chen Ping'an hurriedly across the mirror-like gate.

The sword-carrying man sitting on the hitching post in the distance marveled, "The younger generation back there is probably going to go crazy. That fool's treatment won't be any better than the demon race's."

The young Daoist boy, face still covered by the book, said gloomily, "Even though I don't like that girl's bad temper, seeing her fooled by a simpleton still hurts a bit. A sky and an earth apart—how did these two get together? Isn't this a mismatched matchmaking? Who tied the red thread? Step forward—I'll poke this half-assed old man of the moon to death. First, poke him half-dead, then spare half his life for me to scold him to death."

At the peak of the Lone Peak high tower, one of the Three Pure Bells chimed faintly, but so quietly that it didn't resound throughout Daoxuan Mountain.

Then a wisp of qi instantly flew to the young boy's head, slipped into the book, and the book seemed possessed by a spirit. It slapped shut with a crack, then slapped the boy left and right across the face, crisp and melodious.

The boy, unable to dodge in time, felt as if struck by lightning. Then he realized what was happening, covered his head, and begged for mercy. "Uncle Master, I was wrong, I was wrong..."

---

The moment they stepped into the Sword Qi Great Wall, Ning Yao's heart tightened, but she quickly relaxed.

She had brought Chen Ping'an across Daoxuan Mountain's mirror, but instead of appearing near the gate of Old Man Nalan and the Master Shi Dao nun, they had landed directly on the ramparts of the Sword Qi Great Wall, skipping the long journeys through the city and up to the wall. But this meant Chen Ping'an would suffer severely.

Just as expected.

Abruptly arriving at the ramparts, Chen Ping'an's face flushed crimson, then turned ashen, and finally he trembled all over.

But his eyes remained clear, as calm as a still well.

The previous time had caught him too off guard. Now, with mental preparation, even though he had leaped directly to the most intensely sword-qi-filled ramparts, Chen Ping'an was all too familiar with hardship. It was no different from returning to the second floor of the Bamboo Tower on Luo Po Mountain. As long as he didn't die on the spot, his state of mind was like a hitching post, like a pillar in a river.

The stretch of ramparts where they stood had no sword cultivators patrolling, scouting, or cultivating.

A stooped, gaunt old man appeared from somewhere in a single step, smiling at Ning Yao. She blushed slightly.

The old man chuckled, hands clasped behind his back. Though he had already seen through the boy from the Great Li earlier, today he still circled Chen Ping'an again, nodding. "Just as I thought."

Then the old man seemed a bit regretful, muttering to himself, "Even after a hundred years here, A Liang hasn't worn away that bit of bookish spirit. Otherwise, with that sword in hand, he might be evenly matched with Dao Second. Now he's thrown away all his assets, just trading punches in the Beyond Heaven—what's the point? A sword cultivator without a sword, a Daoist treating himself as a pure martial artist—what kind of nonsense is that... But then again, with her temper, she might not be willing to follow A Liang... But choosing this simple boy—that doesn't make sense either. Could it be a desperate struggle, not wanting to vanish from heaven and earth? No, that's not her character. Too proud. It's like... I can't say this, but it's exactly like her. So who convinced her? Qi Jingchun of the Literary Saint lineage? Qi Jingchun is a scholar with high learning, no doubt, but he and she were never on the same path. Logically, he couldn't have convinced her... Strange, strange..."

Though Old Man Chen was right next to Ning Yao, and he wasn't speaking in his mind—he spoke aloud at length—Ning Yao couldn't hear a single word.

The old sword immortal stopped thinking about what he couldn't understand.

There were too many things in the world; if they didn't concern him, they weren't important.

And besides, there were more than one world.

The old sword immortal felt he needed to think of something pleasant, so he smiled at the young girl Ning Yao. Truly wonderful.

At the Sword Qi Great Wall, this generation of young sword cultivators was blooming with geniuses, an unprecedented grand scene in three thousand years.

She was already showing signs of standing out, towering above the rest.

Even this old sword immortal, who had carved more than one character on the wall, was looking forward to the emergence of her lifebound flying sword.

Once, on a distant journey, Ning Yao had recklessly almost unleashed her immature lifebound flying sword, causing celestial phenomena. Thanks to some secret method at the Sword Qi Great Wall, even separated by a small world and two great heavens, he and a few other old fellows on the ramparts had sensed the anomaly. The one with the worst temper had almost broken the rules and charged into Haoran Heaven.

Fortunately, the girl had pulled back from the brink, not damaging her Great Dao foundation.

Ning Yao asked in a low voice, "Grandpa Chen, he's not going to be in trouble, is he?"

The usually solemn old sword immortal never held back smiles for Ning Yao. He replied with a smile, "If he were in trouble, I suppose Grandpa Chen would be in trouble too?"

Ning Yao shot the old man a fierce glare.

The old sword immortal teased, "Oh, you finally look a bit like a young girl. Seems this outsider boy has done a great deed."

The old sword immortal stopped teasing the girl. "This boy has an excellent martial foundation and a very steady nature. Not bad, not bad. He'll definitely endure. Rest assured. For the time being, let him tough it out on the ramparts. Back when my young neighbor, Cao Ci, walked this path step by step. Definitely don't take him to the northern city—it's a mess of smoke and dust. Even the best sapling would be ruined there."

After saying this, the old man turned around and walked forward slowly, without using any divine powers or the technique of shrinking the earth to inches at the Sword Qi Great Wall.

This old man silently guarded this rampart.

No one knew how many millennia he had done so.

---

After that, it took Chen Ping'an five hours to begin moving slowly.

Another five or six hours later, he started attempting to practice the Six-Step Walking Post. His movements were clumsy, like a child learning boxing for the first time.

Ning Yao came to the ramparts several times each day, said little, and then returned to her family in the northern city.

Chen Ping'an's Six-Step Walking Post gradually became more proficient.

He kept walking and punching to his left, slow but steady. Just before he felt completely exhausted, he would quickly switch to the Sword Furnace Standing Post, remaining motionless.

During this time, Chen Ping'an didn't dare approach the edge of the wall, only moving along the horse-riding path.

They said south of the wall lay the Wilderness Heaven.

And this heaven, at night, actually hung three moons.

At the Sword Qi Great Wall, throwing a hundred punches felt more exhausting than throwing several thousand in Haoran Heaven.

Thus, pausing and moving, on the third day, when Chen Ping'an could vaguely make out the outlines of a large and a small thatched hut, he saw Cao Ci. He was on the ramparts about a mile away, practicing his fist postures. His steps were nimble, his punches like rainbows. Even though Chen Ping'an wasn't a Fourth Realm martial artist—just a crude outsider with shallow eyes—he sincerely admired how... flawless Cao Ci's fist frame was!

Chen Ping'an was moving from right to left; Cao Ci, who lived in the small thatched hut, was moving from left to right.

Their eyes met, but neither stopped. They continued on their respective paths, eventually brushing past each other at a distance.

At that moment, Chen Ping'an's fist intent was extremely faint, almost completely suppressed by the sword qi.

Meanwhile, Cao Ci's fierce fist energy surged outward, visible to the naked eye, as if it were suppressing the surrounding sword qi on the ramparts.

As Chen Ping'an slowly walked his post, finally nearing the thatched hut where the old sword immortal lived, Cao Ci had already finished a round of boxing and caught up to him.

Then Chen Ping'an saw Ning Yao beside the old sword immortal.

Cao Ci saw his own master, Pei Bei, the female martial god and state preceptor of Great Duan, beside the old man.

After confirming Chen Ping'an's progress in fist training, Ning Yao felt reassured and led him toward the northern rampart near the hut. She helped him leap onto the wall, overlooking the city, and pointed out where her home was and where her friends lived.

Not far behind them, Cao Ci was practicing a new fist stance, and the female martial god watched with a smile, occasionally pointing out certain flaws in his stance.

That evening, the female martial god stood on the ramparts with her eyes closed, resting.

Cao Ci practiced boxing all night.

Chen Ping'an continued walking his post until late at night. In the latter half of the night, he sat cross-legged on the northern rampart, maintaining the Sword Furnace Standing Post, and gradually fell asleep.

---

The next morning, the old sword immortal approached the vicinity of both parties and suddenly suggested that the two youths have a sparring match.

Cao Ci didn't mind.

Chen Ping'an didn't mind either.

So the old man used his finger as a sword to carve out a brief, isolated small world—only ten zhang in circumference.

A female martial god watched from the sidelines and found it quite interesting.

On that day, with no restrictions, the two were in an ordinary battlefield of Haoran Heaven. Flying swords, treasures, boxing techniques—anything they wished to use, they could.

Moreover, before the sparring, the old sword immortal told the two youths, both in the Fourth Realm of martial arts, that they should forget that neither would die on the ramparts. They should treat it as a true life-and-death battle.

Chen Ping'an fought with all his strength—and lost all three matches.

Cao Ci, unknown how much of his power he held back, won all three.