Chapter 473: Put It into the Gourd to Wash the Sword
Chen Ping'an only took a few glances before he moved aside to make way.
After traveling the martial world for so long, he had seen all kinds of strange things in the mountains and the myriad facets of mortal dynasties. With experience came discernment, and he was no longer surprised by the unusual.
This convoy had both the official status of the Sushui Kingdom—light cavalry guards carrying bows and swords, with quiver tails bunched like white snow—and steadfast martial artists from the jianghu who wore their blades reversed.
The unique way the Hengdao Mountain Villa disciples carried their sabers was memorable.
Among them, a burly man carrying a huge ox-horn bow stood out. Chen Ping'an recognized him as Ma Lu. Years ago at the waterfall pavilion of Jian Water Mountain Villa, this retainer of Wang Coral had clashed with Chen Ping'an, only to be loudly reprimanded by Wang Yiran. As for family discipline and customs, the Hengdao Mountain Villa was not lacking; Wang Yiran's current success was not solely due to his reliance on Han Yuanshan.
Since Chen Ping'an already knew about the dealings between Jian Water Mountain Villa and Han Yuanshan, and Su Lang's failed sword challenge had essentially sealed the villa's fate, he did nothing more even after recognizing the man. Not only did he yield the way, but he also slowly walked toward the distant forest, like those wandering martial artists who bowed low before officials.
The retainer Ma Lu, faithful in his duties, glanced at the passerby, examined him carefully, then dismissed him as unimportant.
Inside one of the carriages sat three women. One was a matron, the first wife of Chu Hao—the legitimate daughter of the former jianghu leader of the Sushui Kingdom. She regarded Jian Water Mountain Villa and the Song family as mortal enemies. Back when Chu Hao led the imperial army to encircle and destroy the Song clan, this Madam Chu had been the driving force behind the scenes.
The other two women were younger, but both wore the hairstyles and ornaments of married women. One, surnamed Han, had a baby face and still retained some childishness. She was Han Yuanshan's younger sister, Han Yuanxue. As a member of the Xiaochongshan Han clan, Han Yuanxue had married a top scholar who had served three years in the Hanlin Academy. His rank was not high—sixth grade from the bottom—but a Hanlin scholar was the most esteemed of civil officials. Moreover, he had a superb hand at writing Pacing the Void lyrics, and the Daoist-favoring emperor held him in high regard. With the Xiaochongshan Han clan as a powerful backing, his future was surely bright.
The other young woman, exuding a heroic air, was Wang Yiran's only daughter, Wang Coral. Compared to Han Yuanxue, a noble lady, Wang Coral's husband was even more promising. He had become a tanhua at age eighteen—third place in the imperial examination. It was said that if the emperor had not disliked prodigies, he would have been moved up two ranks and directly appointed as the top scholar. Now he was a prefect of a prefecture in the Sushui Kingdom, an extremely rare achievement for a man under thirty in an officialdom that had historically rejected child prodigies. And Wang Coral's husband's jurisdiction happened to border the Pines and Cedars Prefecture where Jian Water Mountain Villa was located—same province, different prefecture.
The reason these three women had gathered was that Madam Chu had come all the way from the capital to watch the excitement. She wanted to witness firsthand the fall of Jian Water Mountain Villa's reputation in the Sushui jianghu after Su Lang's sword challenge. Wang Coral had been staying nearby with her husband anyway, while Han Yuanxue's top scholar husband was about to fill a vacancy. There was a special exception—he might not remain in the capital's six ministries but instead go to a provincial city to serve as the magistrate of the leading county. This meant being the 'parent-official' of a county whose seat shared the same city as the prefectural government. Regardless of one's interpersonal skills, it was a taxing and exhausting job.
Han Yuanshan's southward visit to Wang Coral was naturally to hope that her husband, who would become his own husband's direct superior in the future, could offer some assistance. Otherwise, if the governor took a dislike to him and the prefect made things difficult, this high-profile county magistrate would find himself frozen out on the bench. When an official took a local post, his personal reputation and family background were always a double-edged sword. Actually, officialdom was a bit like children playing house: once someone put on new boots, everyone else would try to step on them until they were dirty, and then everyone was the same—the so-called 'blending in with the dust.'
Madam Chu looked troubled and pitiable. Though no longer young, she had maintained herself well and still retained her charms, not losing out to younger women like Wang Coral and Han Yuanxue.
It was hard for Madam Chu not to feel sorry for herself. A good show had been prepared, with drums and gongs already sounding the start, but unexpectedly that worthless Su Lang, the Green Bamboo Sword Immortal of Songxi Kingdom, had fought two bouts without gaining the slightest advantage from Jian Water Mountain Villa. Instead, he had allowed that old turtle Song Yushao, who was already halfway in the grave, to reap considerable fame.
She was deeply distressed and couldn't help rubbing her chest. She really had a bitter fate—she had ended up with two heartless men in her life, neither of them any good! The first, for the sake of the bigger picture, had taken her body and the rich dowry that was equivalent to nearly half the Sushui jianghu, but he had been a coward, adamantly refusing to break openly with Song Yushao, always making her wait. Finally, when Chu Hao felt the situation was settled, he died for no apparent reason.
Then Han Yuanshan, the one who had usurped Chu Hao's place, was even more shameless than that good-for-nothing Chu Hao. After gaining her body and heart back then, he directly told her to forget about revenge for the rest of her life, and that maybe the two families would even interact frequently in the future.
Fortunately, this time when Su Lang came to issue his sword challenge, Han Yuanshan had not refused her request to leave the capital and watch the fun. But he had made her promise not to take advantage of the chaos, not to take any independent action, and only to watch from the sidelines. Otherwise, she shouldn't blame him for disregarding their years of physical intimacy and marital affection.
Listen—was that something a human would say?
Han Yuanshan, relying on Chu Hao's identity over the years, had seized every advantage of time, place, and people. Now he was the most powerful man in Sushui after the emperor, yet he was still so harsh and heartless toward her.
Still, when she was alone, she would occasionally think: if Han Yuanshan hadn't been so ruthless and ambitious, he probably wouldn't have reached such an exalted position. And she, Madam Chu, wouldn't have been able to hold center stage in the capital, surrounded by all those titled ladies.
This reasoning, she understood.
Han Yuanxue, noticing Madam Chu's bad mood, gently lifted the carriage curtain to let in some air.
Ever since her brother went missing back then, the Xiaochongshan Han clan had actually suffered greatly from the fallout. In a state of panic, her father had ordered everyone not to attend any banquets, and the family had secluded themselves in reflection for two years. But later, somehow, she felt the men in the family began to stir again in the court and on the battlefield, even more vigorously than before. She only knew that the powerful General Chu Hao seemed very close to the Han clan. She had met him a few times and always felt that the general looked at her with a strange gaze—not the lustful look of a man drawn to a woman's beauty, but rather like a senior looking at a junior. And Madam Chu, the most dazzling figure in the capital, often took her on spring outings and was very affectionate.
This time, after hearing that Su Lang's sword challenge had failed, Madam Chu had wanted to return to the capital immediately, but each of them received a secret letter from the capital, one for her and one for the prefectural residence. Hence this trip.
In the family letter Madam Chu received, Han Yuanshan's wording was harsh. He ordered her to take the initiative to visit Jian Water Mountain Villa; otherwise, she should forget about being the 'leader of titled ladies' in the capital's powder circles. Since she had come from the jianghu, she could go back to the jianghu.
Madam Chu was shocked and terrified, her heart torn apart. How could she not be filled with worry?
Fortunately, the two younger women, Wang Coral and Han Yuanxue, had always respected her, which somewhat eased her heart.
Suddenly, Chen Ping'an stopped in his tracks. Soon, a large group of martial artists burst out of the forest, each carrying different weapons, moving swiftly like a swarm.
The convoy also noticed the commotion in the woods. The squad of elite Sushui cavalry in their standard light armor immediately fanned out like a net, drawing the bows off their backs.
The Hengdao Mountain Villa disciples showed no fear either, surrounding the carriage in a defensive formation.
Chen Ping'an didn't know the origins of this group of 'assassins.' He roughly assessed the two sides. It wasn't exactly a case of an egg smashing against a rock, but they were certainly doomed to defeat.
Perhaps it was because 'Chu Hao,' this general who had returned to his ancestral roots in Sushui, had seized high positions at court and had a terrible reputation. The chivalrous heroes of the jianghu considered him a traitor to the country, someone everyone wanted to kill. But killing Chu Hao was as hard as reaching heaven; killing those close to him offered at least some chance. 'Chu Hao' had been able to attain his current prominence at court, especially after Sushui became a vassal of the Great Li Song clan. In the eyes of Sushui's court and commoners, Chu Hao, for his own selfish gain, had helped the Great Li stationed civil officials suppress and sideline many outspoken Sushui officials. In the process, Chu Hao naturally didn't mind playing with degrees of pressure and using public office for private gain. This further solidified his identity as a traitor, and he naturally made countless enemies. Among scholars and warriors, 'cleansing the side of the ruler' became a prevalent trend.
Madam Chu raised a hand and yawned, clearly accustomed to such moths flying into the flame.
Han Yuanxue complained, "These jianghu people, how annoying. They only take out their anger on us women; they're not real heroes."
In recent years, there had been more than one or two attacks on members of the Xiaochongshan Han clan. Even Coral's husband, because he associated closely with Chu Hao and the Great Li barbarians, had been the target of an assassination attempt. If not for the protection of a Great Li military secretary, Coral would have become a widow. So Han Yuanxue was very worried about her husband's upcoming departure from the capital, as he too might encounter such senseless vendettas.
Wang Coral's eyes sparkled, eager to join the fray. But she instinctively reached for her waist and found nothing, making her feel very disappointed. After marrying, her father had forbidden her from practicing martial arts or carrying a saber.
The last time she accompanied her husband to pray for rain at the local Water God Temple, they had been ambushed on the way home. If she had been carrying her saber then, the assassin wouldn't have been able to get close. After that incident, Wang Yiran still refused to let her carry a saber, but he did dispatch several more experts from the villa to protect his daughter and son-in-law in Pines and Cedars Prefecture.
These patriotic men of Sushui, who had sworn to kill the traitors, numbered over thirty. They seemed to come from different factions and sects, each clustering together.
Chen Ping'an found himself in an awkward position. He could only stand still, pretending to drink from his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, to avoid offending either side when the battle erupted.
As for stopping these people from sacrificing themselves for righteousness, Chen Ping'an wouldn't do that.
Probably because Chen Ping'an remained motionless and sensible, the jianghu heroes didn't bother with him. They deliberately changed their course and bypassed him.
Suddenly, a middle-aged swordsman who had already passed Chen Ping'an shouted loudly, "Jian Water Mountain Villa is here to kill the traitors of the Chu faction!"
Chen Ping'an was somewhat helpless.
This was clearly a scheme to force Jian Water Mountain Villa and the old sword saint of Sushui into a corner, compelling them to re-enter the jianghu and fight to the death with the Hengdao Mountain Villa, so that Chu Hao couldn't unify the martial world.
It was both a conspiracy and an open scheme.
As long as people died on either side today, Jian Water Mountain Villa would be stuck in a bind—innocent or not, they'd take the blame. The more dead, the more the villa would be thrust onto the fiery pyre of the jianghu, standing in opposition to the entire Sushui court. The jianghu and scholarly circles of Sushui would then become frenzied, beating the drum for Jian Water Mountain Villa and Old Senior Song.
Chen Ping'an tucked away his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, leaned back slightly, and slid backward in an instant. In that blink, he arrived beside the jianghu swordsman, raised a palm, pressed it against the man's face, and gave a gentle push, sending him flying more than a hundred feet. The man lay on the ground, unconscious.
Then Chen Ping'an continued to glide backward, finally landing precisely between the two sides. He had effectively blocked the elite cavalry behind him while also obstructing the righteous warriors' march to death.
Several arrows whistled through the air toward the leading figures among the jianghu.
Chen Ping'an flicked his sleeve, and three arrows plummeted downward against all logic, embedding themselves in the ground.
A young man stopped and pointed his sword at the young man in the bamboo hat and blue robe. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared, "Are you a lackey of the Chu faction?! Why are you stopping us from fulfilling our righteous duty and killing the traitors in the name of Jian Water Mountain Villa?"
Chen Ping'an sighed. "Go back. Next time you want to kill someone, don't use Jian Water Mountain Villa's banner."
An old man suddenly shouted, "Chu Yueyi! As the adopted son of Old Steward Chu and an unregistered disciple of Old Sword Saint Song, why won't you fight alongside us? Fine, we understand you aspire to reach the pinnacle of the sword. But we are not afraid to die. Today, we ask only that you step aside!"
Chen Ping'an found it both ridiculous and annoying. The old man had an excellent tactic. Sure enough, as soon as the cavalry heard that he was the 'Chu Yueyi' of Jian Water Mountain Villa, a second volley of arrows concentrated on him.
Especially the burly man Ma Lu, who without a word, drew his conspicuous ox-horn bow. Sitting high on his horse, he pulled the bowstring to a full moon. An arrow forged from refined iron shot toward the obstructive figure with the force of a thunderstorm.
The local mountain god, who had once been fortunate enough to drink with the 'sword immortal' at the Mountain God Temple, was sweating profusely. He almost regretted using his innate divine ability to patrol the land.
Last time had been similar. That martial artist from the Central Plains who had graced Jian Water Mountain Villa had completely ignored his spying. But that pure martial artist of unfathomable cultivation, after acquiring the bamboo sword sheath, had, without warning, punched the peak of a mountain near the temple, shattering it. That had nearly broken the courage of this mountain god, who held a high rank under Sushui's Five Sacred Mountains.
In the view of this mountain god, second only to the Five Sacred Mountains in Sushui's pantheon, both parties—General Chu Hao's family and followers, plus those shouting and killing jianghu men—were clueless fools unaware of whom they were provoking.
Su Lang, now the top martial artist in the jianghu of a dozen kingdoms including Sushui and Caiyi, was he really a sword immortal? Did he not know that beyond the mountain there is another mountain? They should remember that in this world, there are cultivation immortals who look down coldly from the heavens!
So, what was the result? At the small town archway, facing the Green Bamboo Sword Immortal, it was just a matter of one punch. This young sword immortal hadn't even drawn his sword. As for Su Lang later running to Jian Water Mountain Villa to make amends, lowering his stance, and barely managing to create such a commotion—that was just the young sword immortal doing Su Lang a huge favor. Otherwise, Su Lang's reputation would have been ruined for life.
The mountain god decided firmly: he would not wade into this muddy water.
Han Yuanxue, with her baby face, tugged at Wang Coral's sleeve and asked softly, "Sister Coral, is he a master?"
Wang Coral nodded. "He might be qualified to spar with my father."
Then Wang Coral added decisively, "Of course, he definitely wouldn't make my father go all out. But for a young martial artist to make my father use seventy or eighty percent of his strength is enough to brag about for a lifetime."
Han Yuanxue took it very seriously and exclaimed in surprise, "But that guy looks so young. How did he get such skill? Did he eat some magical flower or herb that increased his internal energy by sixty years, like in the jianghu novels? Or did he fall off a cliff and find some martial arts manuals?"
Wang Coral was speechless.
Real pure martial artists had no such good fortune.
Only the cultivators on the mountains had such enviable unreasonable opportunities, which made them so arrogant, one more snobbish than the next, looking down on the jianghu.
Even her father, a hero of such magnanimity, complained when mentioning those immortals outside the mortal world.
Madam Chu found Han Yuanxue's childish words amusing. This Han girl had no redeeming qualities; her only talent was being born lucky, a fool with good fortune. First, she was born into a good family, then she had Han Yuanshan as her brother, and finally, she married a good husband. Truly, comparing people was infuriating. Madam Chu's eyes wandered, and she glanced at Han Yuanxue, who was staring intently at the battlefield. The more she looked, the more annoying she found her. So the matron began to ponder whether to give this little woman a small taste of bitterness. Of course, she had to handle it carefully—the kind where Han Yuanxue would have to swallow bitter gourd in silence. If Han Yuanshan found out she had dared to harm his sister, he would skin her alive, this 'legitimate wife.'
Madam Chu yawned continuously, glanced at those jianghu heroes, and curled her lips, murmuring, "What easy fish to take the bait, coming to deliver money one after another. Husband, a good match like me, who manages the household well, is hard to find even with a lantern."
To the two sides' camps, the young wanderer barely seemed to move, and yet three arrows were already in his hand.
Ma Lu of the Hengdao Mountain Villa was famous for his archery, unmatched in Sushui. It was said that a Great Li military officer had once hoped Wang Yiran would part with Ma Lu, letting him join the army. But for some reason, Ma Lu had stayed at the villa, giving up an easily attainable fortune.
A cavalry leader raised his arm high, halting the next volley from his men, because it was pointless. Once a pure martial artist reached the level of a jianghu grandmaster, unless one's own forces were numerous enough, every attempt would be wasted and every attack would fail. The cavalry leader turned his head, not to look at Ma Lu, but at two inconspicuous, dull-looking old men. These were the accompanying military cultivators established by the Sushui court according to the Great Li cavalry regulations, with actual official ranks. One was Madam Chu's escort when she left the capital; the other was a cultivator from the prefectural residence. Compared to Ma Lu of the Hengdao Mountain Villa, these two were the true gods.
One of the old cultivators, short and small, seemed as if his bones might fall apart at any moment. But suddenly his aura exploded like firecrackers, and the long sword at his waist trembled and hummed.
Among the jianghu crowd standing opposite the convoy, a tall, pretty woman said in despair, trembling, "It's one of those mountain sword immortals!"
The old man, whose appearance didn't match his skill, gently squeezed his horse's flanks. He was in no hurry to draw his sword, but the sword's hum was already intimidating.
The old man rode forward slowly, staring fixedly at the blue-robed swordsman in the bamboo hat. "I know you're not that Chu Yueyi of Jian Water Mountain Villa. Get out of the way now, and I'll spare your life."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "When an immortal comes down the mountain, he should follow local customs and speak human language."
The old man laughed heartily. "In a hurry to be reborn?"
What weight did the jianghu of a little kingdom like Sushui carry?
If it were Su Lang of Songxi or Song Yushao of Jian Water Mountain Villa in person, he would still show some respect. But this young fellow, even at his strongest, was only good enough for a single finger-flick. Since he didn't appreciate the mercy, the old man had no choice but to draw his sword. As long as he wasn't from Jian Water Mountain Villa, he had no amulet. Killing him would be like killing a nobody. General Chu Hao had privately told him that on this southward trip, he was not to clash with Song Yushao and Jian Water Mountain Villa. As for others—jianghu grandmasters, wandering rogue cultivators looking for scraps—if he killed until his sword edge curled, it would all count as military merit.
Chen Ping'an turned to those jianghu people and waved them away, saying patiently, "Go. By now, you should see that this is beyond your involvement. I'll say it again: next time you want to act chivalrously and kill some 'Chu faction' members, think about whether innocents will be caught in the crossfire. You probably don't want to think too much. So I advise you not to drag Jian Water Mountain Villa into this. Jianghu righteousness still has to be observed. Just because you think you hold the moral high ground doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."
The old cultivator, who had been riding slowly, had already passed the cavalry and was now less than thirty paces from the blue-robed swordsman. He sneered, "These jianghu bugs want to leave? They have to be able to. Did I nod? Do you know how much silver each of their heads is worth? That one you knocked out is worth at least three Snowblossom Coins. And that woman with good eyesight who recognized me as a sword immortal—you should know her. How many jianghu men dream of being the horse underneath her, so she can ride them? That little widow's husband was a so-called great hero who personally killed two Great Li military cultivators. After he died, this widow gained considerable prestige in your Sushui. I reckon her head alone is worth at least a Midsummer Coin."
Chen Ping'an listened to the old man's rambling, clenched his fist, took a deep breath, and suppressed the irritability that urged him to throw a punch or draw his sword.
Before leaving Fallen Mountain, old man Cui Cheng had given him the last 'feeding of fists' on the second floor. Besides showing Chen Ping'an the strength of a peak Tenth Realm martial artist, he had also spoken some very weighty words.
"Chen Ping'an, you need to cultivate your heart now. Otherwise, you'll become the second Cui Cheng. Either you'll go mad, or worse... you'll fall into demonic obsession. As much as you love reason today, tomorrow Chen Ping'an will be just as unreasonable."
Chen Ping'an adjusted his bamboo hat and looked around. The heavens were autumn, his heart was autumn—it was all melancholy.
There had to be a way to break through.
Chen Ping'an withdrew his gaze and looked at the old mountain sword cultivator. "Since you have a sword, then draw it."
The old man glanced at the young wanderer who didn't know his place, then looked further away, spotting that woman renowned throughout the kingdom's jianghu. "Old man here, a sword immortal? Your Sushui jianghu is truly laughable. But for you lot, thinking that way isn't wrong."
His long sword clanged out of its sheath.
Like crashing thunder.
Yet the old man still held the reins with both hands, looking relaxed.
That single sword strike caused the eardrums of both friend and foe to ring, their minds shaken.
But the other accompanying military cultivator, a native of a Sushui immortal sect, sensed something was wrong.
The blue-robed swordsman tapped his foot and directly stepped onto the tip of the flying sword. He lifted his foot again, as if climbing stairs, causing the sword to tilt and dig halfway into the ground. That young man then stood atop the sword's hilt.
The old sword cultivator who had attacked immediately clasped his fists and said, "I humbly beg the senior to forgive my offense."
He was quick to draw his sword, and quick to admit his mistake.
The subtlety of it was probably only appreciated by the opposing party and the watching cultivator.
Chen Ping'an stepped off the sword, landing back on the ground. He pressed the sword flat against the earth, swept it forward, with the tip pointing toward himself, sliding backward. He lightly stamped his foot, stopping the sword, then made it rise straight up. Chen Ping'an extended two closed fingers and twisted them in a circle, using a swordsman's technique to push the sword back into its sheath. The old sword cultivator, still with fists clasped, continued, "Senior's grace in returning the sword..."
Chen Ping'an had already withdrawn his sword-handling hand, placing it behind his back. He switched to his left hand, two fingers together, with a dazzling firefly-like glow about an inch long between them.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "There will be a generous reward?"
The old sword cultivator's expression turned blank. His sleeves flared.
To become a Lake-Viewing Realm sword cultivator, even if among the prodigy-filled sword cultivators he was of dull aptitude, a sword cultivator was still a sword cultivator. Their nature, talent, and combat skills were inevitably outstanding among cultivators. In the mortal world, they said the poor study literature and the rich practice martial arts. In the mountains, they said the poor study a hundred schools and the rich refine swords—a single flying sword devours mountains of gold. Every sword cultivator's destined flying sword had its own unique traits.
And this Lake-Viewing sword cultivator's destined flying sword was not strong in the sharpness of 'breaking ten thousand laws with one sword,' nor even in the speed that a flying sword should possess. Its strength lay in its erratic and illusory trajectory, and a secret 'rubbing inscription' technique that allowed the flying sword to spawn copies.
In an instant.
Around the blue-robed swordsman, who had two fingers trapping the destined flying sword, twelve identical flying swords materialized, forming an encirclement. They hovered at different heights, all pointing without exception at key energy apertures on the blue-robed swordsman. No one knew which one was real, or if all twelve were real? The sword light varied in intensity—this was the only flaw of the rubbing inscription technique: it couldn't make the other eleven imitation swords as strong as the 'ancestor' sword.
The watching cultivator frowned. This move had never been shown by his colleague before; it must be his trump card.
As a Dragon Gate Realm cultivator more proficient in talismans and formations, he put himself in the young man's position. He reckoned he would at least suffer severe injury, if not fatal.
Knowing he was facing a sword cultivator, to be so arrogant as to trap the flying sword with two fingers—that young man was far too overconfident.
These two accompanying military cultivators—one a Dragon Gate immortal, the other a Lake-Viewing sword cultivator—served Chu Hao and the Pines and Cedars prefect respectively. It was a bit of a waste of talent, especially the latter. Serving a mere prefect was like a Confucian sage teaching children their first letters. But now that General Chu Hao held such power—and he wasn't a selfless person—almost all the top military cultivators were secretly assigned to Chu Hao himself and his trusted confidants. The treatment they received far exceeded anything the Sushui royal family could provide.
The old sword cultivator smiled slightly. Success.
But the next moment, his smile froze.
The young man's hidden hand came out again, and his fist struck what seemed like an empty space.
Blood seeped from the corner of the old sword cultivator's mouth.
Of the twelve flying swords, ten that were only connected by divine intent vanished into thin air. Only two remained—one still firmly held between the young man's left fingers, and the other, the true hidden killing sword (not a decoy), was blocked by the fist intent and qi that flowed in torrents around the young man's body. The blue robe he wore was clearly a high-grade dharma robe, and the spiritual energy concentrated at the sword tip's target further made the sword tremble, unable to penetrate.
Chen Ping'an looked down at the destined flying sword between his fingers and muttered to himself, "It's time to go to Northern Juzhou and see real sword cultivators. I heard from her that in that bitter cold land, there have always been many heroes."
Chen Ping'an flicked his fingers and tossed the flying sword into his Sword-Nurturing Gourd.
Sword-Nurturing Gourds in the world could not only nurture swords but also wash them. However, to successfully wash a destined flying sword required either a high-grade gourd or a low-grade sword. Fortunately, for that flying sword, this 'Jianghu' gourd was considered high-grade.
Once the key flying sword was taken into the gourd, the second copy, like a layer of paper peeling off an ancient painting, also disappeared. It reverted to the original, trembling inside the gourd, for the gourd also contained 'First' and 'Fifteen.'
Chen Ping'an said to the old sword cultivator, "Don't beg. I won't grant it."
Then he turned to the Sushui jianghu martial artists and said with a smile, "What are you staring at? Still not running? Want your heads chopped off for cash? Is that how you play the part of the money-bearing boy?"
The group of jianghu heroes, who had been ready to face death, scattered like birds and beasts, retreating into the forest.
Chen Ping'an watched their backs and suddenly found it... boring.
Even if he told Old Senior Song about this, that old sword saint of Sushui, whose spirit had already fallen, probably wouldn't care. He'd likely just say, as he had at the last dinner, "There's nothing in the world that a hotpot can't solve. If there is, then add a jug of wine."
Chen Ping'an glanced at the other military cultivator, who had been watching with his hands folded.
The man nodded in acknowledgment, showing no intention of intervening.
In the end, Chen Ping'an didn't do anything more. He just borrowed a horse from them—and of course, 'borrowed' meant no intention of returning. Alone, he rode away from that place.
The old sword cultivator who had lost his destined flying sword didn't dare to speak. He allowed that young man to take half his life. It felt as if, if he opened his mouth, the remaining half would be gone too.
The Dragon Gate cultivator certainly wouldn't plead on his behalf.
In the mountains, those Sushui jianghu people were running for their lives.
There were also whispered conversations—some said that man was unfathomable, perhaps an immortal from the mountains who had preserved his youth.
Others muttered to themselves, what immortal? Even if he was, so what? He was still the same kind of goods as the old sword immortal who had lost his sword—big fish eating small fish. Could men like that, no matter how powerful, truly be called heroes?
But there was also a youth filled with admiration and longing. He still didn't like that man, but he yearned for his demeanor.
And a woman sighed softly.
Several people leaped onto high branches to see if enemies were pursuing. Among them, those with sharp eyes saw only the man in the bamboo hat, galloping on horseback, hands tucked into his sleeves. There was no trace of self-satisfaction, but rather a hint of desolation.
Someone spat to the side, whether in jealousy or hatred, and cursed.
But then the blue-robed swordsman seemed to sense it and turned his head to look. Startled, the man on the branch lost his balance and fell to the ground.
Chen Ping'an suddenly turned his head and said, "Wei Wei, help me pass a message to Old Senior Song. Tell him that sword sheath taken to the Central Plains Divine Land—I'll get it back later, using their way of reasoning at Jian Water Mountain Villa."
A faint wisp of green smoke coalesced and materialized beside the man on his horse. She flew with the wind, wearing embroidered shoes—one of the Four Evils of Sushui, the female ghost Wei Wei.
Chen Ping'an added with a smile, "And add this: it might take a long time, so I can only trouble Old Senior Song to wait. When I go to the Central Plains Divine Land in the future, I will definitely come find him for a drink first."
Wei Wei smiled radiantly.
She hovered in the air, no longer following.
She watched that lone rider disappear into the distance.