Chapter 577: So Many Sword Immortals Watching
Pang Yuanji held two fingers together before him, smiling gently. "I don't have many flying swords—just one. But it's fast enough. I hope it won't disappoint you."
On the street, sword aura burst forth, then trickled like countless streams meandering aimlessly, spreading out chaotically before converging into a river of sword aura.
Sword intent was everywhere. The drinkers in the taverns on both sides clearly felt a bone-chilling cold slowly seeping in from the avenue.
Pang Yuanji had not been chosen as the Hidden Officer's disciple by sheer dumb luck. Everyone knew in their hearts—he was the one most likely to inherit the Hidden Officer's legacy in the past hundred years of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Where the demon clan gather in greatest numbers—there shall I strike with my sword.
Which sword cultivator would not yearn for such a realm?
For a sword cultivator, especially a heaven-blessed genius hailed as having a natural sword embryo, the quality of their lifebound flying sword would indeed determine the heights they could ultimately achieve.
After Pang Yuanji spoke those words.
From the taverns, large and small, came a relentless cascade of jeers, dripping with mockery.
Pang Yuanji's lifebound flying sword was named "Time." Time flows like water, so flowing water is ever-changing and the sword formless. If Qi Shou's most fundamental lifebound sword, "Bouncing Beads," offered a visible display of quantity, then Pang Yuanji's lifebound sword was simply unreasonable. Most unreasonable of all was not just its immense power, but that with that "Time" sword, Pang Yuanji was reputed to be "a sword that comprehends all laws." The flying sword could not only temper his physical body but also nourish his three souls and seven spirits, making cultivating techniques twice as effective with half the effort. Coupled with the astonishing talent Pang Yuanji had displayed since childhood—able to grasp things by analogy and mastering a wide variety of mixed yet refined knowledge—he had earned the nickname "Pang the Hundred Schools."
Pang Yuanji wore no dharma robe. He had no semi-immortal weapon like Qi Shou's, which came with his family name. Nor did he have any redundant military alchemical pills.
Chen Ping'an walked forward slowly, a cascade of fist force cascading like a waterfall. He moved along the street as if rowing a boat upstream.
As he walked, the pure martial artist's fist intent clashed with the supremely refined sword aura. This caused the group of onlookers of insufficient cultivation to lose sight of the azure-robed swordsman's face and form. The scene on the street was like wine in a bowl—a man, like a copper coin dropped into the wine, was shaken about in a white bowl, making the coin at the bottom hard to discern.
Ning Yao, who had been standing still all along, said softly, "About that fight—how Chen Ping'an won and why Qi Shou lost. I'll tell you the details later."
Yan Zhuo's eyes lit up as he stared blankly at that receding figure. He sighed deeply, "As long as my brother is willing to make a move, he's guaranteed to beat anyone."
Then Yan Zhuo turned his head and grinned. "Right, Sanqiu? Who was it who said, 'If he talks big, he can knock Qi Shou down with one hand'?"
Chen Sanqiu looked bewildered and said, "It must have been Dong the Charcoal who said that."
Dong Huafu snapped angrily, "Bullshit your mother's egg!"
Diezhang felt helpless. Dong the Charcoal had actually spent the most time with A Liang out of all of them, probably the only one on the Sword Qi Great Wall who had ever pissed on A Liang's body—a "supreme expert." So Dong the Charcoal was either as silent as a gourd or, once he opened his mouth to curse, all his foul words were learned from A Liang. If the listener took it to heart, they'd be both amused and enraged.
A middle-aged sword immortal who had quietly arrived at the rundown tavern sat beside the one-eyed, bearded man. He wiped the dust off the table, smiled, and nodded. "The fist force is pure, and the fist intent is profound. Hard to imagine that Cao Ci could ever have beaten him three times in a row."
The bearded man, who had earlier taken a kick from the Hidden Officer, showed no discomfort and continued drinking. He said hoarsely, "You came too late. If you had seen Cao Ci practicing his fists on the city wall with your own eyes, you wouldn't be so surprised. However high Cao Ci's achievements, however fast he breaks through the realms, I find it only natural."
Saying this, the bearded man glanced at Chen Ping'an, who was advancing calmly and slowly through the flood of sword aura. "Of course, this young man is indeed very good. I saw him jogging back and forth on the city wall back then. At the time, I couldn't imagine he would reach today's martial arts realm. Even if the old great sword immortal had told me then, I might not have believed it."
The middle-aged sword immortal, who had just arrived from Southern Bodhi Continent not long ago, smiled. "I heard he's from the Pear Blossom Cave Heaven in Vase Bottle Continent. I wonder if he has any connection with the Great Li vassal lord Song Changjing."
The bearded man shook his head. "Not sure. He doesn't look old, but you can tell at a glance he's an old hand, used to fighting. Your Haoran Heaven's pure martial artists—do you have that many fights to spare? Even if a master teaches you the techniques, if you haven't truly faced life-and-death situations many times, you can't produce that kind of aura."
"He doesn't look like an outsider. He looks more like the most authentic young man of the Sword Qi Great Wall."
The sword immortal from Southern Bodhi Continent raised his wine bowl, clinked it lightly against the other's, took a sip, and sighed. "Great as the world is, someone like me who doesn't like drinking—only here have I cultivated a craving for alcohol in my belly."
The bearded man twitched the corner of his mouth. This taciturn Jade Core realm sword cultivator rarely showed any resentment, but now he sneered coldly, "All because that bastard set the trend. 'A bachelor who doesn't drink will be a bachelor for ten thousand years. A sword immortal who doesn't drink—an infant soul takes a walk.'"
Three fights were over.
The fourth was about to begin.
How exhilarating!
The slightly chubby girl pounded the windowsill vigorously, her face flushed with excitement. "Did you see that? Did you see that? Isn't my eye good? Don't be shy—say it out loud!"
No one paid her any attention.
This made the girl somewhat annoyed, and then she noticed that Sister Dong beside her was acting strangely.
Curious, she asked, "Sister Dong, is it that you suddenly realized Sister Ning has found such a good man, and when you look at yourself, you see you're not getting any younger, and after all this searching, you still haven't found a suitable one? Are you feeling really awful inside? Then learn from me—when I'm happy, I speak up; when I'm miserable, I say it too. I'll drink with you. I'll lend you some of my happiness!"
Dong Bude lay on the windowsill, rubbing her face vigorously with both hands. She sighed deeply and nodded. "Terribly awful. For so many years, I've never been able to match up to that girl Ning."
The girl comforted her, "Sister Dong, you're older! In this regard, Sister Ning can never compare to you. A sure win!"
Dong Bude turned her head, reached out, grabbed the girl by the neck, lifted her lightly, and said with a smile, "Say that again, a little louder. I didn't hear it clearly."
The girl's feet left the ground, and she was furious. "Sister Dong! From today onward, show me some respect! If you're not careful, I might end up as Chen Ping'an's little wife someday! Then you'll be in big trouble! When he sees how much you've bullied me, he'll be furious and come after you—just like he did with Qi Shou! I won't be able to stop him then, no matter how much I want to. I'll have no choice but to watch helplessly as Sister Dong bounces around on the ground!"
Dong Bude set the girl down on the floor with a thump and laughed. "What nonsense is this? Go say this in front of that girl Ning."
The girl stood up, shook her shoulders. "I'm not stupid. Do you really think I can't see the looks he and Sister Ning exchange? I'm just joking around. My mother often says, 'The man you can't have is the best man in the world!' I know she says that deliberately for my father to hear. Every time, my father looks as pitiful as if he'd eaten shit. Scold her? He doesn't dare. Hit her? He can't win. Get angry? It seems unnecessary."
Dong Bude pressed the girl's head, making her "kowtow" repeatedly while laughing and cursing, "Little girl, you're not even grown and you already have a dirty mouth. Are you really not afraid your parents will spank you until your butt blooms?"
After Dong Bude let go, the girl rubbed her swollen red forehead with her hands, didn't look at Dong Bude, clenched her fists, and pounded the windowsill heavily. "Annoying! I've decided: after he beats Pang Yuanji, I'm going to learn fist techniques from him! If he won't teach me, I'll kneel at Sister Ning's doorstep. I'll kneel for the time it takes one or half an incense stick to burn—that's plenty of sincerity! Once I've learned fist techniques, just you wait, Sister Dong! Be careful when you walk at night!"
Even Dong Bude found herself helpless against this girl.
A pit in her brain couldn't be filled with reason.
Suddenly, Dong Bude sighed. "So many sword immortals watching."
The girl was about to say something when Dong Bude hooked her arm around the girl's neck and yanked her close. The girl's head tilted, her eyes rolled back, and she stuck out her tongue, pretending to be dead.
On the street.
The young martial artist in azure robes and white jade hairpin did something strange.
He did not rely on the tough physique and agile movements of a martial artist. He did not aim to cross the "river" as quickly as possible to get close to Pang Yuanji.
Instead, with a slight shake of his arm, he took out a large stack of ordinary yellow paper talismans and scattered them. In an instant, forty or fifty talismans of various kinds were thrown out.
Almost all the talismans were instantly shredded by the sword aura.
But Chen Ping'an continued like this, walking slowly, yet the speed at which he threw the talismans was dazzling.
Pang Yuanji smiled. With his two fingers forming a gesture, he stepped on a celestial pattern.
Behind Chen Ping'an, ripples appeared, and another Pang Yuanji materialized.
On the rooftops of both sides of the street, twelve more Pang Yuanjis appeared.
Every "Pang Yuanji" at the higher points was either forming Daoist hand seals or Buddhist mudras. Beneath each one's feet appeared a talisman array. Between the Pang Yuanjis, between the arrays, fine threads of various colors slithered like dragons and snakes, connecting and aligning, finally forming a talisman array that encompassed the entire street.
Not only that, but the two Pang Yuanjis standing in front of and behind Chen Ping'an also began to move slowly. As they walked, they casually tapped and pointed, drawing talismans in the air that hung suspended. These were all kinds of bizarre, ancient seal scripts and cloud patterns. Many virtual talismans written in the void glowed with intensely bright spiritual light. Some talismans shimmered with watery spiritual energy, some wove with lightning, some coiled with fire dragons—a myriad of manifestations.
After Chen Ping'an threw out over a hundred yellow paper talismans in one final, concentrated burst.
He stopped instantly. His fist stance rose again. The dense fist intent that had been surging violently through his body now sheathed itself like a sword returning to its scabbard. From a contracted fist stance, he delivered a swift and fierce punch.
The fist shot out like a rainbow.
Thunder rumbled, erupting from the ground.
The entire river of sword aura on the street shook violently.
Most of the river's sword intent converged around the azure-robed figure, like heavy troops besieging a city.
The two Pang Yuanjis on the street continued walking at an unhurried pace, still reinforcing their talisman array.
Pang Yuanji had not watched the first three fights for nothing.
This Chen Ping'an had too many tricks up his sleeve, one after another. The key was that he was still hiding his true strength.
For instance, that left hand of his, which had yet to deliver a truly full-power punch.
And then there was Chen Ping'an's true speed—Pang Yuanji still couldn't figure it out.
In the fight with Qi Shou, Chen Ping'an had set up quite a few carefully crafted deceptions.
Below the level of sword immortals, except for Ning Yao and him, Pang Yuanji, plus those Nascent Soul sword cultivators, everyone else could probably only watch the spectacle.
Deep down, Pang Yuanji felt a bit helpless.
You, Chen Ping'an—a pure martial artist and a lower fifth-realm Qi practitioner who happened to possess a lifebound flying object after Grand Refinement—fine. But those two imitation sword-immortal flying swords that can really scare people—what's the deal with those?
Who knows if he's hidden another one?
Pang Yuanji felt that the guy was entirely capable of such a malicious act.
Beyond that, Pang Yuanji's wariness intensified.
The talismans Chen Ping'an had thrown out were in fact precisely surveying the fine details of the sword aura river.
So Pang Yuanji, without hesitation, withdrew the sword aura, giving him no more opportunity to investigate.
----
Earlier, after Chen Ping'an and his group had left the Ning residence.
On the training ground, Nalan Yexing, the old servant of the Ning family, had been diligently guarding the third-generation master of the Ning household. Now he crouched on the ground, extending five fingers and gently stroking the earth.
The old woman from the Yao family, Bai Lianshuang, who had come with her young mistress to the Ning residence years ago, stood nearby, fuming. "You old dog! Why aren't you watching that side? If something goes wrong, what then? Can your dog life afford to pay for it?"
Nalan Yexing said calmly, "Is it as dangerous as the battlefield in the south?"
Bai Lianshuang grew even angrier. "The treachery of the human heart—is it ever a bit less dangerous than battlefields? Nalan, you old dog! Do you really not understand, or are you pretending not to?"
Nalan Yexing withdrew his hand, looked up, and said nothing.
Bai Lianshuang sighed, softening her tone. "Have you ever thought that a promising young man like young master Chen, if he had chosen a legitimate daughter of any other great surname on the Sword Qi Great Wall, wouldn't need to expend so much effort? He would have been carefully tended and made a comfortable, happy son-in-law early on. And here at our place—just you and me, two old immortals. The Yao family is still sitting on the fence. Since even the Yao family hasn't made a statement, it means that before trouble comes, no one is backing our young mistress and her husband. When trouble comes, it'll be too late."
Nalan Yexing said, "That old Yao is nursing a grudge."
Bai Lianshuang hesitated, then asked tentatively, "What if we leaked some news about our young master's betrothal gifts to the Yao family?"
For once, Nalan Yexing spoke firmly to the old woman. He turned his head and said gravely, "Don't demean Chen Ping'an. And don't insult the Yao family."
Bai Lianshuang nodded, refraining from retorting—a rare occurrence.
Nalan Yexing explained, "Since you've said it yourself, Chen Ping'an chose our young mistress. There's no other way. He convinced us; he'll have to convince others too. If he can't convince them, then he'll beat them into submission!"
Bai Lianshuang complained, "I wasn't asking you to meddle, to help Chen Ping'an fight dirty. I just wanted you to keep watch, to avoid accidents. You've been rambling all this time and haven't gotten to the point."
Nalan Yexing said helplessly, "Fine. I'll break my agreement and tell you the truth. The reason I can't leave this place and have to stay here, scratching my heart out, is Chen Ping'an's idea. Otherwise, I'd have gone over there long ago to pick a corner and drink."
Bai Lianshuang asked suspiciously, "He talked to you about this in advance?"
Nalan Yexing nodded. "Even if I had the nerve, I wouldn't dare fool you about something like this, would I? It was Chen Ping'an's own idea."
The old man stood up and laughed. "The reasoning is simple. If the Ning residence doesn't send elders over there, the Qi family won't have the face to do so either. As for that fight with Qi Shou—even if he loses, he'll lose gracefully. He'll make sure Qi Shou never truly feels he's won. If Qi Shou dares to break the rules, to go beyond just deciding victory or defeat and suddenly attempts to decide life or death, overstepping his bounds, then Chen Ping'an can force the old ancestor behind Qi Shou to come out and clean up the mess. Then, how much face and substance the Qi family can salvage will depend on whether the onlookers at the time will allow it."
Bai Lianshuang sank into thought, carefully mulling over these words.
Nalan Yexing added, "You and the young mistress might not know this yet, but Chen Ping'an sought me out twice in private. The first time, he asked in detail about the backgrounds of Qi Shou, Pang Yuanji, and Gao Yehou—from the names of their flying swords, temperaments, fighting habits, to their teachers. He questioned me about both battlefield life-and-death fights and one-on-one duels. The second time, he asked me to mimic their flying swords so he could fight them. His only principle was that my sword strikes had to be one fraction faster than their lifebound flying swords. Of course, I didn't refuse. We sparred in that cramped little room of Chen Ping'an's; there was no need to hurt anyone—just touch. Chen Ping'an laughed and said that if he truly let loose and punched with all his might, at the very least, these heaven-blessed geniuses would find that deciding victory or defeat against him was not something they could simply do. By the end, it would be beyond their control whether it was life or death."
Bai Lianshuang's expression turned strange.
Nalan Yexing's smile grew even stranger. He casually pointed toward Diezhang's shop. "Are you still worried about Chen Ping'an? Shouldn't Qi Shou and Pang Yuanji be the ones troubled by him? When you're up against an opponent like that, and the realms aren't too far apart, you'll probably be utterly annoyed to death by him. Chen Ping'an can take a beating—you've punched him yourself, Bai Lianshuang. Don't you know?"
Nalan Yexing paced slowly, his heart at ease. "This kid—he's easy to talk to, knows his manners. When he came to me, after I helped him with his sword practice, we had a little drink. He talked a bit more than usual. You should have seen it—Chen Ping'an after a few drinks, his boots off, sitting cross-legged like me, bold and easy. The look in his eyes then, along with the words he spoke—what a sight it was."
Nalan Yexing showed a hint of nostalgia.
The Ning residence really did need a master of the house. It was too stuffy otherwise.
Bai Lianshuang glared. "When you see him, call him Young Master Chen! To me, you can call him Young Master-in-law. Calling him Chen Ping'an like that—are you out of line? Who lent you that dog courage?!"
Nalan Yexing felt utterly aggrieved. He had barely earned some face with Chen Ping'an, and now with this old woman, every bit of it was gone.
The old woman muttered to herself, "Old dog, do you think Young Master Chen could win all three fights?"
Nalan Yexing had his answer ready. "Of course, I hope so. But if the third fight is against someone like Pang Yuanji, Qi Shou, or Gao Yehou, it'll still be difficult. Say it's Qi Shou—the most likely—if that little brat doesn't get careless, Chen Ping'an will have a real fight on his hands. A very real fight."
And sure enough.
Both old people clearly sensed the overwhelming aura of an ancient sword echoing on the street near Diezhang's shop.
Then that immortal sword, which Chen Ping'an had left in the side room of his small residence, left the Ning residence on its own.
The old woman kicked Nalan Yexing in the knee. "Get over there and see what's happening! You jinx—it's Qi Shou drawing the High Candle from its sheath!"
Although Nalan Yexing's expression remained calm, he was actually a bit anxious. In ordinary sparring, without deciding life or death, why would a half-immortal weapon and an immortal sword face off?
Nalan Yexing threw caution—and their agreement—to the wind.
But he didn't expect that at the critical moment, Bai Lianshuang would suddenly calm down instead. Though her expression was grave, she shook her head. "Forget it. We have to trust our young master-in-law. He's anticipated this."
Nalan Yexing asked tentatively, "Are you sure I don't need to go?"
His implication was clear: if something goes wrong over there, what should I, Nalan Yexing, do afterward? You, Bai Lianshuang, can order me around as you please, but you can't blame me for failing in my duty.
Bai Lianshuang nodded. "I said so!"
Nalan Yexing glanced at her.
The old woman snapped, "Old dog—watch your dog eyes!"
Nalan Yexing knew she was in a bad mood at the moment, so he held his tongue.
After all, it wasn't as if he hadn't been putting up with her for just a year or two.
Not long after, a Golden Core sword cultivator hurriedly rode the wind, landing on the training ground. After bowing to the two elders, he said, "Chen Ping'an has won three fights. The opponents were Ren Yi, Pu Yu, and Qi Shou."
This Golden Core sword cultivator, nearly a hundred years old but still young in appearance, was named Cui Wei. He was technically an unregistered disciple of Nalan Yexing. Nalan Yexing didn't take it seriously, but Cui Wei had always observed the rites of a master and disciple. In fact, over the past ten-odd years, he had been dragged down by the great disaster that befell the Ning residence. His life had been very difficult, yet he never wavered.
The old woman shouted in approval.
Nalan Yexing asked, "Was Chen Ping'an badly injured? Why didn't you stay to protect him? Did you just come running here to claim credit first?"
Cui Wei laughed. "It looks like there's going to be another fight. After I deliver the news, I need to hurry back to watch."
Nalan Yexing grabbed Cui Wei by the shoulder. "Tell me the details of the three fights!"
Cui Wei said wryly, "Master, the fourth fight is Chen Ping'an against Pang Yuanji—and Chen Ping'an challenged him himself. It would be a shame to miss it. When I rushed to the Ning residence, I noticed that two more sword immortal seniors from Northern Kuru Continent had arrived on the scene."
Nalan Yexing asked, "And the High Candle?"
Cui Wei smiled knowingly. "Sword Immortal Gao Kui settled it with one word, revealing the truth. So Qi Shou only held his sword but never struck. He's already sheathed it and gone."
The old woman, however, had no time to rejoice. Her expression changed slightly. "What? The young master-in-law is going to fight Pang Yuanji in another bout?!"
Nalan Yexing laughed instead. "I'm very relieved."
The old woman pointed. "Go keep watch!"
Nalan Yexing shook his head. "No need. Winning against Qi Shou has already proven that Chen Ping'an knows his limits—and his punches have a plan too."
Before his unregistered disciple Cui Wei, he still had to maintain the demeanor of a senior.
But Nalan Yexing subtly shifted his feet.
The old woman waved her hand. "Cui Wei, trouble you to go back and keep an eye on things. If things take a turn for the worse, send word to the Ning residence by flying sword."
Cui Wei quickly departed by flying sword.
On the Sword Qi Great Wall, sparring matches between two sword immortals—the kind that would turn heaven and earth upside down, with their sword aura blotting out the sun—were not to be missed.
But Cui Wei didn't think the fights between Chen Ping'an, Qi Shou, and Pang Yuanji were any less spectacular.
In fact, they were very spectacular.
Otherwise, four upper fifth-realm sword immortals, including Gao Kui, wouldn't have been drinking over there.
Cui Wei even guessed that with more sword immortals arriving one after another to witness the last match between the younger generation, there might end up being as many as ten sword immortals gathered on that street!
Back when Cao Ci of the Central Earth Divine Continent appeared on the Sword Qi Great Wall and conflicts arose, how many sword immortals were willing to show themselves?
Although that was largely related to the fact that Cao Ci's martial arts realm wasn't high at the time, and his punch came quickly. But setting all reasons aside, just looking at the number of sword immortals watching, Chen Ping'an—who had only arrived at the Sword Qi Great Wall a few days ago—had already, without knowing it, caught up to a certain someone from years past. But that person's fight was a chaotic melee, with not a trace of heroic spirit or sword immortal elegance.
The old woman murmured, "If only the master and mistress were still here..."
Nalan Yexing had nothing to say but a sigh.
The old woman rubbed her eyes and smiled. "It's good enough now."
----
On the city wall of the Sword Qi Great Wall, two thatched huts—one large, one small—stood close together.
A young man with a face like polished jade stepped out of the small hut, came to the northern section of the city wall, gazed north toward the city, and said with a smile, "Senior Left, even the Hidden Officer went over there to join the fun. Won't you take a look?"
On the city wall, a man sat cross-legged, a sword lying across his knees. His eyes were closed in meditation. Around him, sharp sword aura, both condensed and ethereal, appeared and disappeared unpredictably. It was a good thing the man standing nearby was Wei Jin, the sword immortal of Snow Wind Temple.
Wei Jin was a once-in-a-generation genius of Vase Bottle Continent—after Li Tuanjing and before Ma Kuxuan. As for all three, it was widely acknowledged that Li Tuanjing, who had died stuck at the Nascent Soul peak, had talent not inferior to Wei Jin's. But unfortunately, he was trapped by love and had wasted his chance to become the first Immortal realm sword immortal in Vase Bottle Continent's history. So overall, he was still inferior to Wei Jin. As for Ma Kuxuan of True Martial Mountain, a military practitioner, the consensus on Vase Bottle Continent was that his talent was probably slightly inferior to the two seniors, Li Tuanjing and Wei Jin, but his fortune in the Great Dao was too good. His ultimate achievements might even surpass Wei Jin's. As for Li Tuanjing, the former master of Thunder Wind Garden—since he had already died via sword dissolution, everything was over for him.
Zuo You never opened his eyes. His expression was indifferent. "Nothing worth watching. A temporary contest of victory means nothing."
Wei Jin knew Senior Left's temper, so he wasn't too cautious with his words. He laughed. "That doesn't really seem like the proper attitude of a senior brother toward his junior brother."
Zuo You shook his head. "I never acknowledged that matter. Besides, according to the rules of our lineage, without hanging the founder's portrait, without offering incense and kowtowing, he was never considered my junior brother."
Wei Jin didn't press further.
Senior Left was a man of few words. It seemed that speaking a single sentence was more exhausting for him than drawing his sword against an enemy.
Zuo You and Wei Jin—two sword immortals, one from Central Earth Divine Continent and one from Vase Bottle Continent. Zuo You had already removed himself from the world's sight, drifting like a lonely ghost across the vast ocean for over a hundred years. The two had nothing to do with each other ordinarily, except that they both knew A Liang and Chen Ping'an.
Zuo You had a favorable opinion of Wei Jin's swordsmanship and character. This young man Wei Jin, who had received considerable kindness from A Liang, was one of the few sword cultivators on the Sword Qi Great Wall that Zuo You was willing to exchange a few words with.
But Wei Jin had only recently broken into the Jade Core realm and become a sword immortal. In contrast, Zuo You had been renowned across the world for a hundred years. It was only right for Wei Jin to call him "Senior Left."
Wei Jin sighed with emotion.
Every sword cultivator has a sword immortal they admire most in their heart.
For example, at the Immortal Platform of Snow Wind Temple, his master—who wasn't highly cultivated but whom Wei Jin would respect for life—had always admired Li Tuanjing, who had suppressed the True Sun Mountain with his sole strength. His master's greatest wish before he died was to have the chance to ask Li Tuanjing about the sword path. Even if Li Tuanjing said only one word, it would be a life without regret. Unfortunately, his master was thin-skinned and low in cultivation, so he never fulfilled that wish. By the time Wei Jin roamed the martial world and happened to meet that "blade warrior" in a bamboo hat and went into closed-door cultivation to break through his realm, wanting to challenge Thunder Wind Garden as a sword immortal and as the disciple of his master, Li Tuanjing had already passed away.
For Wei Jin, life was always like this. What he didn't seek would often come in abundance. What he desperately sought would slip away in an instant, fading further and further away.
Fortunately, upon arriving at the Sword Qi Great Wall, Wei Jin's state of mind broadened.
Here, there was the great sword immortal who had lived alone for ten thousand years, there were those from Northern Kuru Continent who had come to die generously, and of course, there was the senior Zuo You, who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, seemingly a cut above all sword cultivators in the Haoran Heaven.
In the recent war, Zuo You alone had wielded his sword deep into the heart of the demon clan army, carving a path with his sword aura without even needing to draw his sword. Treasures and magical implements that came close to him were reduced to dust.
It wasn't until he found that one great demon he had singled out that Zuo You finally fought in earnest.
That was a battle of gods and demons, causing countless casualties. The land within a hundred li was overrun with demon clan.
Unparalleled grace.
With just that one battle, Zuo You became the most beloved outsider among the native sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
After the war ended, Zuo You sat alone on the city wall drinking. The great sword immortal Chen Qingdu appeared and said, "High swordsmanship is not enough."
Facing even him, whom A Liang respectfully called "the great sword immortal," the anchor of the fortress, Zuo You answered only one sentence: "Then my swordsmanship is still not high enough."
At that time, Chen Qingdu put his hands behind his back, turned and walked away, shaking his head with a smile. "That old scholar who knows best how to adapt—how did he teach a student like you?"
Zuo You didn't bother to reply.
The reason was simple: he couldn't beat this old man.
Otherwise, he would have spoken with his sword, to make sure this senior, the oldest prisoner of ten thousand years, would show more respect when mentioning his teacher.
Wei Jin lowered his head, gazing at his open palm. He smiled. "First match—Chen Ping'an won, easily. His opponent was a Dragon Gate realm sword cultivator."
Zuo You was silent for a moment, still not opening his eyes, but he frowned. "Dragon Gate realm sword cultivator?"
Wei Jin thought Senior Left was dissatisfied with the low level of Chen Ping'an's opponent, so he said, "The second match was against a young Golden Core."
Unexpectedly, Zuo You frowned even more. "Only ten years? Has it been ten years already? And he's already able to fight a Dragon Gate realm sword cultivator?"
Wei Jin's mood was complicated.
Senior Left—did he have so little faith in his own junior brother?
Soon, Wei Jin remembered something: Senior Left, when he was studying under the Sage of Literature, hadn't been at a high realm either, and he wasn't a born sword embryo either.
Zuo You said calmly, "You don't need to tell me the details of the fight."
So Wei Jin just observed the battle mentally on his own.
Zuo You continued to temper his own sword intent against the soaring sword intent of the entire Sword Qi Great Wall.
In his youth, not focusing on study and instead diverting his attention to martial arts and swordsmanship wasn't a good thing.
After experiencing many things, when he turned back to reading, he found it difficult to absorb simple truths.
His mind was full of how to get along harmoniously with this world—being picky, choosing only knowledge that was useful to him, knowledge that could solve immediate problems. That was considered good knowledge. Knowing even more of that kind of knowledge would still be quite beneficial for ordinary people, after all—everyone needs peace of mind. But for his teacher's students, especially the last disciple... it wasn't very meaningful.
Wei Jin was silent for a long time. After watching the second fight, he sensed a slight change in Zuo You beside him and couldn't help but ask, "Senior Left, since you are still concerned, why won't you even see him?"
Zuo You frowned. "I said, I don't consider him my junior brother."
That young man could be his teacher's disciple, he could be Qi Jingchun's junior brother—but that still didn't mean he was Zuo You's junior brother in his heart.
Otherwise, why would Zuo You call himself the senior disciple, acting as if Cui Chan, the recognized senior disciple of the Sage of Literature, was nothing?
An extreme example: was there any junior brother in the world who would spend all his time flirting with his little wife and leave his senior brother out in the cold?
I don't regard you as my junior brother—but is that an excuse for you, kid, not to treat me as your senior brother?
Wei Jin quietly watched the battle from afar.
Zuo You suddenly opened his eyes, squinting as he looked toward the street in the city.
Wei Jin held back his laughter and said nothing.
At that moment, that Qi family disciple had just drawn his sword from its sheath.
Zuo You quickly closed his eyes again.
Wei Jin smiled knowingly.
The lineage of the Sage of Literature was all about reasoning.
----
Elsewhere on the Sword Qi Great Wall, the Hidden Officer landed beneath the city wall, took a hop, stepped onto the wall, and walked upward.
Her steps didn't seem fast, but in an instant, she was on the city wall. An elderly sword immortal from Northern Kuru Continent stationed nearby saluted her with folded hands.
The Hidden Officer nodded, took a big step from the northern section of the city wall to the southern side, grabbed her two goat-horn braids, pulled them upward, swayed, and rose slowly into the air.
Then she frowned, reluctantly turned, and rode the wind like an arrow shooting toward a certain spot on the city wall beneath her. The thick sea of clouds above her head was blasted away. In an instant, she appeared beside a thatched hut. "Hey! I haven't been drinking!"
An old man stood with his hands behind his back, smiling. "Let's discuss something."
The Hidden Officer said, "Haven't been drinking. Lately, no strength to fight. I'm not going south."
The old man laughed. "So naughty and mischievous. Do you really not plan to get married?"
The Hidden Officer, dressed in a loose black robe, now looked like an angry little black cat.
Her wide sleeves fluttered; black mist coiled around her.
It turned out that while speaking, the old man had already stood beside her. He bent down and reached out, placing his hand on her little head.
That billowing black robe instantly sagged. She lowered her head, shuffled her feet, and said in a low voice, "If you have something to say, say it!"
The old man waved his hand. "Go play by yourself. Nothing now."
She snapped angrily, "Chen Qingdu! Are you messing with me?!"
Chen Qingdu laughed. "Your tone suggests you're not too convinced, our Hidden Officer?"
Her face darkened.
The next moment.
First, near the thatched hut on the Sword Qi Great Wall, a small world abruptly appeared.
Then almost all the sword cultivators on the city wall felt the entire wall shake.
Inside that small world.
The great sword immortal held the Hidden Officer's head with one hand. Her feet were dangling in the air, her back against the city wall. She was seething with murderous intent, but she couldn't escape.
Chen Qingdu said calmly, "It's not that I can't control you. It's just that I have some guilt on my mind, so I can't be bothered to discipline you. You're young and naive, so I've been especially lenient with you. Got it?"
The Hidden Officer was silent for a long time, then nodded.
Chen Qingdu released his hand, and the Hidden Officer slid to the ground.
The old man said, "Go play."
The Hidden Officer said "oh," turned around, and swaggered away, her two sleeves swinging wildly.
The old man stopped and looked south toward that barbaric world.
He smiled.
The world is like wine—drunk before flowers, drunk under the moon, drunk for ten thousand years.
Chen Qingdu glanced back north.
If the realms are not too different, being an enemy of that kid—you really can't lack cunning.
----
The talismans were no longer useful.
Chen Ping'an still had three flying swords—Fifteen, Pine Needle, and Thunder-Eater—to help him discern the various truths and falsehoods of Pang Yuanji's lifebound sword.
The two Pang Yuanjis on the street responded with ease. One stopped and diverted his mind to control three strands of sword aura, entangling Chen Ping'an's three flying swords.
The other controlled the sword aura to wear down Chen Ping'an, who was punching nonstop, draining the martial artist's true energy and refined fist intent.
As for the twelve Pang Yuanjis on the rooftops, they were busy constructing a new talisman array.
Pang Yuanji had chosen the clumsiest method: step by step, turning the entire street into his own small world.
Like a sage presiding over an academy, or a deity ruling a mountain peak—his cultivation would be elevated by one full realm!
In the end, as a Nascent Soul sword cultivator, he would be able to decide the victory or defeat with a single sword stroke.
His opponent clearly understood Pang Yuanji's plan.
But it seemed he lacked the power to stop it. Even though the momentum of his punches was already breathtaking enough to make the onlookers tremble, and each collision of fist force and sword aura had shattered the street surface beyond recognition.
Still, both sides observed an unspoken rule: no matter how chaotic, Pang Yuanji's sword aura would not enter the taverns in the slightest, and Chen Ping'an's fist force followed the same principle.
Just as Pang Yuanji was about to complete his work.
The young martial artist finally held nothing back.
In the blink of an eye, he parted the river with his fist and arrived before the Pang Yuanji ahead of him.
Not only that, but a flying sword of pure white rainbow light appeared out of nowhere, without warning, flying toward the Pang Yuanji behind him, who was controlling the sword aura to handle the existing three flying swords.
This was nothing.
A figure in white shot up from the ground. His yin spirit traveled far into the clouds.
Where his fist struck, that Pang Yuanji was punched to pieces.
The flying sword "First Day" shredded the second Pang Yuanji.
Meanwhile, Chen Ping'an's yin spirit suddenly halted high in the air. From above, he used an inverted version of the "Cloud-Steaming, Great Marsh" style. Fist force rained down like a storm, covering every rooftop and every Pang Yuanji.
At the same time, on the street, Chen Ping'an's true body, after withdrawing his punch, crouched slightly, as if collapsing into a compressed fist stance. A burst of fist intent erupted, never before displayed by Chen Ping'an—like spring thunder cracking, a dragon stirring its spine. Beneath his feet, almost the entire street caved in and sank. Chen Ping'an, now high in the air, had already passed above his own yin spirit. Toward a certain spot, he delivered the most powerful punch of his life.
Above the city, the fist intent shot straight ahead, like a knife cutting through white paper.
Then came the noise: a thunderous roar above everyone's heads.
The Pang Yuanji who appeared out of thin air in the sky, facing that straight-coming fist force, instantly gathered his flying sword. A golden dharma body, several zhang tall, materialized, crossing its arms before Pang Yuanji in defense.
That dharma body was not towering, but its golden light was dense like water.
Pang Yuanji and the golden dharma body were blasted back to a higher altitude together.
By the time Pang Yuanji stabilized his form, the golden dharma body had suddenly transformed from a mustard seed into a vast realm, becoming several tens of zhang tall. It stood behind Pang Yuanji, holding a dharma seal in one hand and a huge sword in the other.
Chen Ping'an stepped onto First Day and Fifteen.
Faced with such a grand spectacle, he did not retreat but advanced, climbing rapidly upward.
At the windows, outside the taverns, heads popped out, necks craned, eyes wide with shock.
These two were fighting without any regard for the rules.
Yan Zhuo said softly, "Ning Yao, won't you talk him out of it? There's really no need to go this far. Pang Yuanji isn't a bad person. Chen Ping'an is a good one too. If it were Qi Shou, I'd be happy to see Chen Ping'an punch his brains out. But like this, they really might end up deciding life or death."
Ning Yao said impatiently, "Can't talk him out of it."
Dong Huafu was bewildered. Was there anyone in the world that Sister Ning couldn't talk around? A Liang, the great sword immortal—they all held Sister Ning in high regard. Besides, Sister Ning had matured early. Even those two had never treated her like a child. She was the first among them, and still the only one, who could discuss major matters with A Liang and the great sword immortal. Even Dong Huafu's own sister admitted she was far inferior to Ning Yao.
Ning Yao added, "And I don't want to."
Dong Huafu was instantly relieved. That was exactly the kind of thing Sister Ning would say.
Pang Yuanji raised one hand high and pressed it down heavily.
The golden dharma body behind him, as tall as a mountain peak, raised a mysterious dharma seal intertwined with lightning and smashed it down.
The young martial artist punched through the seal, still having strength to spare, and aimed his fist at Pang Yuanji!
Pang Yuanji remained unmoved. He swept two fingers horizontally.
The dharma body swung its great sword horizontally, slamming it heavily into the azure-robed young man's waist.
Chen Ping'an's feet were planted like roots. Instead of being sent flying or crashing to the ground, he was merely pushed sideways a dozen zhang by the blade. When the force of the great sword in the dharma body's hand lessened slightly, he continued to climb diagonally, throwing another punch with his left hand.
This scene made every sword cultivator below Earth Immortal realm feel their scalps go numb and a chill run down their spines.
The dharma seal condensed again. The great sword was raised high once more.
Twice, Chen Ping'an's form vanished and reappeared in a slightly higher spot between Pang Yuanji and the golden dharma body. He aimed a punch directly at the head of Pang Yuanji's true body.
With a bang.
Pang Yuanji was smashed from the air straight down into the ground beneath the street. No sign of him—only dust flying. He didn't reappear for a long time.
The azure-robed figure stepped on two flying swords and slowly descended to the street. His left arm hung limply at his side. His right hand needed no description.
He happened to land beside that immortal sword.
Standing at the edge of a great crater, covered in blood, he slowly turned his head and looked toward his beloved girl in the distance.
That young swordsman in azure robes and white jade hairpin gently pressed his bare-boned palm against the hilt of that immortal sword, winked at her, and smiled brilliantly.