Chapter 319: What Does It Mean to Be Unmatched Under Heaven
On that street within the city, from the moment both sides made their moves, the fight had been stirring and soul-stirring.
Even now, the battle raged fiercely.
A single glazed flying sword, like a divine object that had awakened its own intelligence, was able to single-handedly entangle the knife-grinder Liu Zong.
Liu Zong's bone-cleaving knife, renowned throughout the world, had served him his entire life without ever being chipped or damaged. Yet in today's battle, before he could even touch a single piece of Yu Zhenyi's clothing, the flying sword had already hacked several cracks into it.
Liu Zong had no time to feel distressed.
If he distracted himself, he would die.
The flying sword was fierce and extremely fast, its sword aura filling a radius of over ten zhang. Trapped within it, Liu Zong found himself restrained and constrained.
The sect leader of Lake Mountain Sect, Yu Zhenyi, truly lived up to his reputation as a true immortal.
At least two knife-grinders Liu Zong.
And Liu Zong was the fifth-strongest under heaven.
Moreover, from the corner of his eye, Liu Zong caught a glimpse that suggested it might even be two National Masters Zhong Qiu.
Yu Zhenyi had already drifted down to the ground, standing with both hands behind his back, allowing Zhong Qiu to punch him again and again. But not a single punch could fully break through his invisible protective aura. A scant few punches came within a mere inch of Yu Zhenyi's face, causing his eyebrows to ripple slightly and the hair at his temples to flutter gently—but that was all.
Zhong Qiu kept throwing punches, each time returning empty-handed. His expression remained calm, his eyes bright, with no trace of dejection or despair. National Master Zhong was still the same man.
But the more this continued, the more it evoked a sense of poignancy.
It was as if the world shouldn't be like this, easily stirring a feeling of suppressed resentment and indignation in people.
Zhong Qiu just threw punches.
Yu Zhenyi, as if taking a leisurely stroll, casually walked forward. At most, he would detour around the battlefield between Liu Zong and the flying sword, moving along the row of shops lining the street, glancing up at the shop signs, looking at the Spring Festival couplets that had survived this year's spring rain.
Yu Zhenyi asked with a smile, "Do you regret not accepting that immortal sword back then?"
"The path you chose is only fit for walking among mortals. Climbing the mountain, you cannot reach the summit. Even if I gave you another thirty years, after reaching the mountain peak, you would still have no path forward. Then you would only regret even more."
"Zhong Qiu, from childhood to adulthood, you have only cared about things that the world doesn't care about. In my view, that's not called standing out from the crowd; it's called being foolish."
Zhong Qiu said nothing.
The scene was eerie. While being beaten, Yu Zhenyi had already turned onto the wide imperial avenue. At the end of this road lay the Southern Garden Kingdom's imperial city, the palace city, and that hall even more majestic and towering than the Pine Ripple Kingdom's palace. On its eight ridges stood ten strangely shaped immortals and beasts: after the leading wind-riding immortal came the dragon, phoenix, lion, heavenly horse, sea horse, suanni, yayu, xiezhi, douniu, and xingshi in sequence.
Some high-ranking emperors and ministers could see the real versions of these; others could not.
Yu Zhenyi pointed ahead, "Remember when we were young, you read about those descriptions of the ten creatures on the ridges in a book, and you were very curious, saying you must see them for yourself someday. In the end, you lived outside the palace for decades—haven't you seen enough yet?"
Zhong Qiu finally spoke, "Yu Zhenyi, don't always think you're so impressive. Just because you've cultivated immortality, you no longer consider yourself human. You look down on everything, and you think about people and things only with nostalgia. You need to look more at the present joys and sorrows of the mortal world... Of course, you can no longer listen to these things."
Yu Zhenyi nodded, "The views of a mundane man. When in a position, one must attend to its duties; the same goes for cultivation. Zhong Qiu, it's not that your reasoning is wrong—it's just not high enough, because you stand too low."
A trace of sorrow flickered in Zhong Qiu's eyes.
He stopped throwing punches and looked toward the palace.
Yu Zhenyi also halted, smiling, "Such light punches, Zhong Qiu. Could it be you haven't eaten for days? How about I wait here for half an hour while you eat and drink your fill before we continue?"
Zhong Qiu, for the first time, swore, "I'm afraid one punch from me would knock the shit right out of you!"
Zhong Qiu was indeed still Zhong Qiu. No matter how much he read, when truly pushed to the limit, wasn't he just the muddy-legged kid from Jiulan County, Zhuojun, in the Pine Ripple Kingdom?
Yu Zhenyi patted his belly and laughed heartily, "I've flipped through the heavenly books, learned the arts of immortals, walked the bridge of longevity, cultivated the supreme dharma, and after closed-door cultivation, I've been fasting for years. Truly, I don't have such things as shit or piss."
Zhong Qiu sighed, "You're actually waiting for that other fight to reach its conclusion?"
Yu Zhenyi nodded, "Even if you see through the truth, what can you do? You still can't break through my protective aura."
Then he shook his head, "It's not about reaching a conclusion; it's about waiting for that young man named Chen Ping'an to die."
Zhong Qiu suddenly turned his head and looked down at his old friend, who was in the form of a child, with a strange smile.
Yu Zhenyi looked up, "What?"
Zhong Qiu said, "Do you remember, back then, outside the wall of Magistrate Ma's yamen?"
Yu Zhenyi thought for a moment, his expression turning reflective, "If you hadn't mentioned it, I really wouldn't have remembered it."
Back then, in their hometown of Jiulan County, Yu Zhenyi was the son of a petty clerk not even in the court's official ranks, and Zhong Qiu's family background was even lower. Yet they became best friends from a young age. Yu Zhenyi yearned for the martial world, while Zhong Qiu admired scholars. Both were restless at heart, full of youthful arrogance. Zhong Qiu developed a crush on the magistrate Ma's daughter, and Yu Zhenyi helped him come up with a whole basket of bad ideas. The girl didn't like Zhong Qiu to begin with, and after that, she grew even more distant and annoyed with him. One night, after drinking heavily, the two of them ended up pissing against the wall outside the yamen's back courtyard. Unexpectedly, the girl happened to be sneaking out with her maidservant to meet a traveling scholar from another region just as the courtyard door opened. The two women happened to witness this scene.
The magistrate's daughter was thin-skinned, but the maidservant was fierce. She even glanced at Yu Zhenyi and Zhong Qiu's crotches and said with full disdain, "Two little earthworms, what are you swinging around in the middle of the night?"
After that, Zhong Qiu and Yu Zhenyi never went near the yamen again.
Remembering this after Zhong Qiu's reminder, Yu Zhenyi didn't find it amusing.
But he wondered why Zhong Qiu had brought it up. Was there some deeper meaning?
Zhong Qiu smiled slightly, "Old Immortal Yu, now you're even worse off than a little earthworm."
Yu Zhenyi's expression remained unchanged, but his eyes turned cold, "National Master Zhong, the reminiscing is over. How about we spar?"
Zhong Qiu dismissed it with a smile.
Yu Zhenyi sneered, "Why don't we make a bet? If Liu Zong can survive, will he seek death on his own like you did?"
Zhong Qiu nodded, "Alright, I'll bet that he won't leave alone."
Yu Zhenyi raised his hand as if to summon the glazed immortal sword back into his grasp, but then he lowered his arm and smiled, "I'll just deny Liu Zong this chance to live."
Zhong Qiu said no more.
The two stood side by side.
Now it was just National Master Zhong of the Southern Garden Kingdom and Yu Zhenyi of the Pine Ripple Kingdom.
Yu Zhenyi suddenly said, "You're wrong. My killing power doesn't lie in that sword. I was just going easy on you earlier because I thought there was still hope for you, Zhong Qiu. Just like back then, from childhood, I always gave in to you and took care of your feelings."
Zhong Qiu, however, said something strange and off-topic. He turned his head to look at the southern city wall and murmured softly, "Yu Zhenyi, your position is the most awkward. You are neither the blazing sun nor the bright moon. If this world were to lose you, it would still be the same complete world."
—
The withered little girl, carrying that small stool, walked to the only house that hadn't closed its courtyard gate. She saw Cao Qinglang, who was holding his head and crying bitterly.
She knocked on the gate, stepped over the threshold, and deliberately asked, "Hey, hey, hey, anyone home? No one? I'm coming in."
When Cao Qinglang looked up, full of alertness, she casually threw the small stool to the ground, looked around, and said nonchalantly, "This is yours, right? I'm returning it."
Cao Qinglang grabbed a firewood knife from the ground and held it in front of him, "Who are you?!"
She was still looking around and said impatiently, "I'm with that rich guy in the white robe, not with that guy wearing the flower hat."
She spotted the side house, then turned to Cao Qinglang, "Earlier, I saw a pair of dogs and bitches carrying four heads out the door and tossing them into the street. Blood rolled everywhere. I kindly put the heads together. Are they your people? Don't you want to go check?"
Tears burst from Cao Qinglang's eyes, and he sprinted toward the gate.
She suddenly blocked his way, glaring, "Stop!"
Cao Qinglang was confused.
She asked, "Aren't you going to thank me?"
Cao Qinglang hesitated, wanting to speak but stopping, then ran out with tears streaming down his face.
She didn't dare block someone holding a firewood knife. She pouted and moved aside, muttering, "Ungrateful bastard. No wonder you ended up an orphan."
She pushed open the door of the house—Chen Ping'an's residence.
The bedding on the bed was neatly arranged. The books on the table were also neatly stacked.
Clean and tidy.
On the table, there was also an empty sword scabbard.
She couldn't find any food, nor any copper coins or silver.
Angered, she walked to the table and pushed the stack of books off, scattering them on the floor.
Then her eyes lit up—she could sell the books for some money! She stared at the sword scabbard and sighed. Better not. If she sold the books secretly, that white-robed guy probably wouldn't do much to her, but if she sold the scabbard, he'd likely give her a good beating. At that point, being young wouldn't save her.
She scooped up the books and ran out.
She had already made up her mind: once she exchanged them for a handful of copper coins, she'd spend it all quickly. Only by turning it into food in her belly would he not be able to take it back!
—
Zhou Fei, carrying Zhou Shi and Ya'er by their shoulders, found Lu Fang again. He was still drinking at that tavern. Not only was the corner tavern empty, but the entire street was deserted. It was most likely that the Southern Garden Kingdom court had issued strict orders—once a battle of grandmasters began, the entire ward was to be cordoned off. The specific rules followed historical curfews, certainly the work of National Master Zhong Qiu.
The beautiful woman who had once studied under the same master as Lu Fang was lying limply across the table.
Laughing Boy's head and his sword Dàchūn were placed on a nearby table.
Zhou Fei let go of the two, strode inside, sat down, and said with a resigned laugh, "You just got her drunk?"
Lu Fang poured him a bowl of wine, "What else?"
Zhou Fei studied Lu Fang, "At least I didn't waste my efforts. There's some effect."
Compared to that earlier meeting when Lu Fang was utterly dejected, now he had recovered somewhat, with a faintly tangible spirit and energy, almost ready to knot and twist into a rope. This would be enough for Lu Fang to live another sixty years in the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, and there was even a chance he could achieve a fleshly ascension. That could be considered a blessing in disguise.
As for the flow of time in the Lotus Flower Blessed Land and the Grand World of Bright Ocean, it was interesting how it still depended entirely on that person's mood.
If that person found it amusing, sixty years in the Lotus Flower Blessed Land would be just five or six in the Grand World. But if he found it boring, things would go badly. The most disastrous historical case: someone, after enduring countless hardships in the blessed land and finally ascending, found that upon returning to the Grand World, three hundred years had passed. He nearly lost his Dao heart on the spot.
After all, even for mountain-cultivating individuals, three hundred years was enough for everything to change. The people they wanted to see might no longer be alive; the people they wanted to kill might have already enjoyed a life of luxury and died.
Zhou Shi and Ya'er chose a table and sat down, each lost in thought. The Flower-Crowned Man went to dig out a jar of the Southern Garden Kingdom's specialty bamboo-wine. After surviving a disaster, it was fitting to share a drink with the lady of his heart. As for the sixty-year pact, with his ambition to rank among the world's top ten or even top three, Zhou Shi, as Zhou Fei's son, and with the Spring Tide Palace being at the peak of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, did not lack such resolve. He was confident that after sixty years, he would meet her again and then go together to his father's hometown.
As for what Ya'er thought, Zhou Shi couldn't guess, but he didn't need to overthink it, because he completely trusted his father's methods and foundation. Especially after ascension, it would be like a dragon entering water or a tiger returning to the mountains. It must be known that the Lotus Flower Blessed Land was merely a medium-class blessed land, while the Cloud Cavern Blessed Land controlled by the Jiang clan of the Jade Gui Sect—his father's "Zhou Fei"—was a first-class great blessed land in that world.
Zhou Fei's skill in tempering, training, and taming a woman's heart was something Zhou Shi had never been able to learn. Zhou Fei once joked that it was called "false body, true heart," a divine art of the immortals. That you, Zhou Shi, could only grasp the surface was not surprising, but it was enough for you to roam the flowers in this world.
Lu Fang asked, "How is it over there?"
Zhou Fei raised his bowl and clinked it with his friend's, took a sip of wine—the taste was truly awful—and quickly put it down, explaining, "It's very chaotic. Feng Qingbai was killed by his good friend Tang Tieyi. Cheng Yuanshan didn't even say a word and ran away. Zhong Qiu played clever—he didn't fight Chen Ping'an to the death. After deciding the superiority of their fist techniques, it was more like another sparring session, helping Chen Ping'an stabilize his realm. Because that guy's martial path is a bit strange, he almost rushed all the way to the bottleneck of the sixth realm. Zhong Qiu saw some clues and slowly used his punches to push Chen Ping'an's martial realm back to the fifth realm. During the exchange, Zhong Qiu also used Chen Ping'an's fist forms to verify some martial theories. If this person can leave the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, a future ninth-realm martial artist is a sure thing."
Zhou Fei subconsciously reached for his wine bowl, but recalling the taste, he sighed and forced himself to take a gulp, "Then Ding Ying and Yu Zhenyi showed up. One blocked Chen Ping'an, the other stopped Zhong Qiu. These two fights, I think, are the most perilous—they will definitely end in death."
Lu Fang casually pointed to the table behind him where the Flower-Crowned Man and Ya'er sat, "The Pink Vajra Ma Xuanhe, the Pipa Consort, and... Laughing Boy. Chen Ping'an didn't really intend to kill them, but as for these two kids, I believe that if the opportunity arises, he will definitely kill them. Hah, such a temperament—he looks more like a warm-hearted wandering swordsman than Feng Qingbai."
"Not to mention you and Tong Qingqing, among the figures in this world, only Ding Ying and Yu Zhenyi catch my eye. The rest are just so-so. Even Zhong Qiu, give him forty or fifty years to become a ninth-realm martial artist—what then?"
Zhou Fei waved his hand, "I don't care about any of that. I'm just sitting here now, waiting for the second drum sound from Cattle Mountain. I'll only take that young lady named Ya'er behind you. So for the next sixty years, that worthless Zhou Shi will still need you to take care of him."
Lu Fang nodded in agreement and asked curiously, "Aren't you planning to recruit Yu Zhenyi? Sixty years of being close at hand gives you more of an advantage than the Paulownia Leaf Sect. And according to you, since you're last in ranking, you can only take one person—that demonic cult girl Ya'er. Yu Zhenyi can take at least three: Wei Xian, Lu Baixiang, Sui Youbian, Zhu Lian—all of them are freakish geniuses. The Li Zhu Cave Heaven in Bottle Gourd Continent produces countless suitable cultivation seedlings, while this Lotus Flower Blessed Land is rich in martial arts prodigies. If you win over Yu Zhenyi, it's like the Jiang clan gaining three Zhong Qius."
Zhou Fei pointed a finger at Lu Fang, "Your conscience, Lu Fang, hasn't been completely devoured by dogs yet. At least you still think about me a little."
For the first time, Ya'er spoke up on her own, timidly asking, "Palace Master Zhou, Sword Immortal Lu, who exactly is Tong Qingqing?"
Zhou Fei and Lu Fang both ignored her.
Because Ya'er had no idea about the weight of the clan head of the Jade Gui Sect's Jiang clan, the master of Cloud Cavern Blessed Land, or the possibility of an eleventh-realm sword cultivator.
If Ya'er were to rank among the top ten of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, she might have some standing to speak with them.
Of course, it also had to do with Zhou Fei and Lu Fang's inherently cold temperaments.
If it were a wandering swordsman like Feng Qingbai, a reborn immortal, he wouldn't make people feel so unapproachable.
—
On the city wall, after Chen Ping'an's sword strike.
At the westernmost end of this straight horse track, an old man's robe was torn open across his chest, revealing a bloody wound like a trench.
The old man made an unexpected move: he raised his arm, took off the lotus crown, and casually tossed it aside.
As for whether that flying sword would break free from its imprisonment and return to its master, making the enemy even stronger.
As for whether losing the protection of that Daoist crown immortal artifact would mean losing a winning method in a evenly matched battle.
Ding Ying didn't care at all.
Ding Ying rolled up his sleeves slowly and meticulously.
He thought for a moment, glanced down at the lotus crown he had already regarded as one of his bargaining chips, and with a flick of his sleeve, he sent it flying far away toward the imperial avenue in the Southern Garden Kingdom's capital.
Ding Ying walked forward slowly, his steps no different from an ordinary person.
No more majestic aura like a mountain god. Ding Ying had even discarded that silver Daoist crown.
Empty-handed, he walked toward Chen Ping'an.
Ding Ying felt completely at ease, his state never more at its peak.
When fighting someone, this was how it should be!
If you defeat the second-strongest under heaven, you naturally become the strongest under heaven—a very simple truth.
But such a truth, no matter how heavily outsiders regarded it or how unattainable it seemed, Ding Ying still found it too small, too light.
Ding Ying looked down on it!
To surpass the combined strength of the remaining nine in the world's top ten—that was the true invincibility Ding Ying sought.
Thus, in the long years, only accompanied by loneliness, Old Devil Ding had delved into the strengths of a hundred schools, elevating the martial arts of various grandmasters by a level. It wasn't that Ding Ying needed these as talismans for protection, but that he had long prepared to casually use a single move to effortlessly break the strongest techniques of Yu Zhenyi, Zhong Qiu, Liu Zong, and these other great masters.
But now, a huge surprise had emerged.
Ding Ying felt that this was right.
He no longer needed those flashy moves—they were still too slow.
On the path forward, without sufficiently strong opponents, even if Ding Ying stood waiting, even if he looked back, he couldn't see a second figure. No one could catch up to Ding Ying, no one could stand shoulder to shoulder with him. It was just a desolate world, with only Ding Ying alone, contending with heaven.
That reborn immortal named Chen Ping'an had come at the right time. With this stepping stone, I, Ding Ying, would only get closer to heaven!
Ding Ying strode forward, laughing heartily.
Chen Ping'an gripped the long sword in his hand, his palm burning hot but not burned by the sword aura. He felt that this second strike could be faster.
At the southern city wall of the Southern Garden Kingdom.
From a huge breach in the wall to the westernmost end, the entire horse track was filled with surging white sword aura, rolling forward.
And at the western city wall stood Ding Ying, delivering punches one after another, like a celestial god hammering a mountain, each punch smashing the oncoming sword aura into splashes that scattered in all directions. Ding Ying advanced against the current, unstoppable.