Chapter 623: Forging Swords
Clear bugle calls resounded across the battlefield as the Demon Clan began to withdraw their troops.
This opening phase, which had lasted for two full ten-day periods, still saw the Demon Clan army unable to reach the city wall.
The sword immortals on the wall remained peerless. On the Barrenwild World side, powerful great demons had made only a few appearances; the number of Flying Ascension and Immortal stage great demons who had displayed divine abilities was no more than a handful, and none had truly charged into the formations. Thus, the Sword Qi Great Wall seemed to have firmly gained the upper hand.
During this period, two battles were universally recognized as the most outstanding. One was when Zuo You once again, alone with his sword, went deep into enemy territory, nearly destroying a Gengwu military tent that was relatively forward in position. This provoked two Flying Ascension stage great demons to make a move. Even then, Zuo You did not retreat. His sword qi surged like a mighty torrent. From the wall, looking down at the distant earth, it was as if a solid, miniature world had appeared out of nowhere. Boundless white sword qi, with Zuo You at its center, formed a colossal semicircle that blotted out the sky. Wherever it passed, the flesh and souls of the Demon Clan were shattered, reduced to powder.
On the Sword Qi Great Wall, Zuo You himself was nowhere to be seen.
Only sword qi and sword light were visible.
Mi Hu, an Immortal stage sword immortal who had recently quietly broken through his bottleneck, stood beside his younger brother Mi Yu, who was still at the Jade Purity stage. The two brothers had different feelings.
Mi Hu felt that if Zuo You’s sword qi could be even more abundant, it would be truly exhilarating—a sword immortal of the world should be like this.
Mi Yu’s face showed bitterness, thinking that this guy Zuo You really had too much sword qi.
If the solitary Zuo You’s fierce battle with those two Flying Ascension stage great demons took place on the earth of the human world, then the other battle truly happened in the heavens. Chen Chun’an made a move, actually pulling down one of the Barrenwild World’s bright moons from the highest reaches of the sky to the earth.
Almost the entire Barrenwild World fell into great panic, worrying that the increasingly huge full moon would slowly descend into the mortal world.
The gray-robed old man of Mount Support Moon still did not intervene, instead looking up and remarking with a smile, “Good technique, scholar.”
Truly worthy of Chen Chun’an, who was hailed as someone who had raised another peak within the lineage of the Secondary Sage.
Among the eight continents outside of Central Earth Divine Continent—Chen Chun’an of the Bodhi Continent, Fiery Dragon True Person of Northern Jambu Continent, and the Great Wealth Deity Liu of the Snowy Continent—each had their own strengths. Even the haughty cultivators of Central Earth Divine Continent dared not lightly claim that these pillars of the three continents were insufficient.
The gray-robed old man allowed that Flying Ascension stage peak great demon, who styled himself Master of Lotus Flower Hermitage, to go all out in a contest of strength with Chen Chun’an.
That Flying Ascension stage demon cultivator, who had refined half of the moon’s essence, had every advantage of time and place.
But even so, he could not stop Chen Chun’an’s heaven-defying methods. The full moon slowly descended toward the ground.
The so-called slowness was actually an illusion. If there were ancient gods or enlightened beings living on the moon, they would have experienced the terrifying speed of the moon’s plummet.
Outside the battlefield, the more advanced the cultivation of the Barrenwild World’s cultivators, especially those close to the upper five realms, the more they felt that suffocating pressure. They could also see the “moon palace” of the bright moon clearly. There were lifeless mountain ranges, and for those with even keener eyesight, they could see ruined palaces, huge withered trees, ancient bones that had crushed the mountains, and floating garments as large as lakes.
In the Haoran World, a sage of the military strategists had once said something that seemed more praise than criticism.
“Pity the pure Confucian is not overbearing; his writings failed to reach the heavenly path.”
If the person who said this had witnessed Chen Chun’an’s move on the Sword Qi Great Wall, he would not have made such a mistaken remark.
And the Sword Qi Great Wall’s most familiar of the nine major continents of the Haoran World was not Central Earth Divine Continent, but the South Bodhi Continent, which was closest to Daoxuan Mountain. They were well acquainted with the pure Confucian Chen Chun’an.
This was also thanks to Ah Liang’s extensive propaganda, saying that among scholars, Chen Chun’an was a quite extraordinary master—like an old master wielding a hammer, both literary and martial, capable of writing essays and fighting. Impressive, impressive.
However, in the end, that full moon was not completely pulled down to the earth. The Master of Lotus Flower Hermitage went all out, stalemating Chen Chun’an for a full half hour.
Thus, that night, the full moon was closest to the ground, exceptionally huge and bright.
These two battles were truly the most fitting examples of immortals fighting.
They greatly boosted the morale of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Sword cultivators drew their swords faster, and the waterfall of sword qi, formed by tens of thousands of natal flying swords, surged even more fiercely.
But compared to the waves of Demon Clan troops that surged forward to die, the number of Demon Clan cultivators who actually charged into the formations was still small.
So, the battle merits accumulated by the sword cultivators on the Sword Qi Great Wall were mostly meager.
Thus, that female sword immortal named Xie Songhua from the Snowy Continent could be said to have made a spectacular debut, reaping a large amount of battle merit.
After the Demon Clan army ceased their attack, they no longer left their dead exposed on the battlefield as before, allowing sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall to “pick up money” from the field.
They began to respect the fallen Demon Clan cultivators, trying to collect their corpses. Bones and all belongings were carefully counted, archived, and returned to their descendants.
The Sword Qi Great Wall naturally would not allow the Demon Clan to casually clean up the battlefield.
The key point was that the temporary withdrawal of the Demon Clan army was full of profound tactics.
One great demon held a golden pot carved with a rat bringing treasure pattern. After sacrificing it, all spiritual artifacts and magical treasures, now ownerless, automatically left the battlefield and flew rapidly toward the golden pot.
Another great demon possessed a black jade dragon plaque carved with a cloud-chasing dragon. Suddenly clenching it, the plaque became dazzling. Black flood dragons, as long as fingers, swam out from the plaque. Once away from the plaque, they seemed like evil dragons freed from a suppression, suddenly transforming into colossal beings. Their four claws slammed heavily into the ground, easily raising dust dozens of feet high, attempting to kill the sword cultivators who had left the wall.
The great demon Chongguang, who had once been in charge of a siege, sacrificed one of his natal objects—a bowl of water. He gently exhaled, rippling the water’s surface, and suddenly a deep small vortex appeared, as brilliant as a starry river.
The souls of the Demon Clan on the battlefield formed land tornadoes, sweeping southward, trying to merge into the water bowl.
Gathering souls either allowed them to be released back into the Barrenwild World outside the battlefield, or they could be accumulated in the treasure to prevent being refined by the sword qi and sword intent here.
The purest and most refined spiritual qi of heaven and earth seemed never to favor humans, but in reality, for cultivators who had the full advantage of time and place, there would be a mysterious closeness.
The many ancient sword intents on the Sword Qi Great Wall were the best example.
But the broken limbs, bones, and blood seeping into the earth would greatly alter the battlefield’s fate.
Sword immortals had to deal with this—they couldn’t completely eliminate it, but they could remove as much as possible.
Otherwise, the “timeliness” that belonged to the Sword Qi Great Wall would tilt toward the Barrenwild World.
This was the sword cultivators’ greatest reliance, aside from the old chief sword immortal and the city wall under their feet.
Thus, the strangest scene appeared on the battlefield: even though both armies had ceased fighting,
the great demons and sword immortals were increasingly active.
Cultivation treasures left on the battlefield, damaged spiritual artifacts, were snatched up by both sides using their means.
More often, during the disputes, they shattered on the spot.
But compared to the previous military confrontation, now on the vast battlefield, no matter how much noise the sword immortals and great demons made, the spectacle was still limited.
After the ceasefire, there was a brief respite. According to previous rules, sword cultivators could have a breathing period of up to half a month, at least three to five days.
Chen Ping’an did not immediately leave the wall. He still sat cross-legged there, watching the distant exchanges between enemy and us.
Liu Xianyang walked over and sat down beside Chen Ping’an. He had to go meet up with his classmates soon. This time, while studying abroad at the Sword Qi Great Wall, the emphasis was still on the word “study.” As for killing demons, regardless of how the other Confucian disciples of the Secondary Sage lineage saw it, Liu Xianyang wasn’t that concerned. If Chen Ping’an hadn’t been sitting here, Liu Xianyang might not even have been willing to make a move. Liu Xianyang had always lived more freely than Chen Ping’an, more comfortably.
As for when they would leave the Sword Qi Great Wall, no one knew. It depended on the will of that Chen family sage. Liu Xianyang scratched his head, gazing at the sharp sword lights that appeared and disappeared on the distant battlefield, and said, “My battle merits, count them all as yours.”
Chen Ping’an hummed in acknowledgment, smiling as he handed over the Sword-Nourishing Gourd.
Liu Xianyang shook his head and said, “Not drinking. Even if I wanted to get drunk and lose control, I’d need a pretty girl by my side, right?”
He had heard that this guy had compiled the “Bi-Sword Immortal Seal Manual” on the Sword Qi Great Wall. Liu Xianyang planned to ask Chen Ping’an to carve him a pair of seals: one straightforward, carving “Great Sword Immortal Liu”; the other, more honest, carving “Liu Xianyang, Preserving Chastity Like Jade.”
Chen Ping’an lowered his voice and asked, “That Demon Clan cultivator, after you struck with your sword, he came out unscathed?”
Liu Xianyang smiled and said, “He’s also a sword cultivator, with protective treasures. Not so easy to kill.”
On the other side, Qi Shou’s area was quite lively.
Many people had come. After all, Qi Shou had just broken through to the Nascent Soul stage during the great battle, and he had single-handedly defended a position. It was indeed a cause for celebration.
Qi Shou, true to his role as the leader of his small faction and a member of the Qi family, quickly gathered a dozen or so friends, both male and female.
Some were acquaintances of Chen Ping’an, such as the Dragon Gate stage sword cultivator Ren Yi, who had been the first to block the way on the street.
Also, the Golden Elixir stage sword cultivator Pu Yu, who had been responsible for the second challenge. He was a rather elegant young man in white.
There were also a few female sword cultivators of similar age. Half of them came to congratulate Qi Shou, and the other half were drawn by Qi Shou’s two neighbors. They had completely different temperaments from the genteel ladies of the Haoran World. Right now, they boldly looked at Chen Ping’an and Liu Xianyang, not hiding their appraising gazes. Their so-called whispers were not at all quiet.
On the Sword Qi Great Wall, during the brief gaps between rotations of battle, when they had some leisure, familiar sword cultivators would occasionally chat about battles elsewhere. Among the topics were the second boss and that scholar from the Bodhi Continent—there were quite a few things to talk about.
As for which sword cultivator had died, or whose natal flying sword had been destroyed on the battlefield,
they would at most just say “oh” and nod to acknowledge it, then there was nothing more.
Chen Ping’an shook the Sword-Nourishing Gourd and teased, “Now you’ve got one, so are you drinking or not?”
Liu Xianyang jumped off the wall, muttering, “Gotta go, gotta go.”
After Liu Xianyang left, one of the female sword cultivators asked with a smile, “Second boss, what’s your friend’s name? Does he have a wife or a little woman right now?”
Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “When he was here just now, why didn’t you ask yourself?”
The woman chuckled and said, “I was shy.”
Chen Ping’an felt helpless. The way she had looked at Liu Xianyang earlier was as if he weren’t wearing any clothes, with not a hint of shyness.
Her name was Situ Longqiu, a concubine-born daughter of the Situ family on Taixiang Street. She was a View the Sea stage bottleneck sword cultivator and a close friend of Dong Bude. Among sword cultivators of her generation on the Sword Qi Great Wall, her realm was neither high nor low, but she was cheerful and full of worldly spirit. The interesting things about the Sword Qi Great Wall, after she embellished them, often became even more interesting. Many rumors originated from her and Dong Bude’s hearsay. Most true stories would sound false, while false stories seemed more real than truth.
Back when Dong Bude came to the Ning residence to ask Chen Ping’an to carve three book seals, one of them was for Situ Longqiu.
The second boss’s upright character and fair dealing; Situ Longqiu’s “I swear it’s true”; Gu Jianlong’s “Let me say this fairly”; Dong Huafu’s spending money like water; and Wang Xinshui’s “I can fight first, I’ll settle after the fight”—these were the latest five wonders of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
The old five wonders of the Sword Qi Great Wall were: Ah Liang’s reliable gambling and washing his hair with saliva; the Hidden Officer’s best temper, never hitting anyone; Old Deafie’s speaking human words to humans; Lu Zhi’s unparalleled beauty; and Mi Yu’s “true feelings never last.”
Actually, they had nothing to do with swordsmanship or realm.
Now, Chen Ping’an and Situ Longqiu were probably a kind of meeting of experts.
Situ Longqiu suddenly asked with a smile, “Is Yandang Mountain famous in the Haoran World?”
Chen Ping’an shook his head and said, “It’s just an obscure mountain in the Vasebottle Continent. Its feng shui is good, but it hasn’t become famous yet. However, I have a good friend who travels through mountains and wilderness, writing travelogues. He mentioned this place to me. The scenery is extraordinary, including the Great Dragon Falls, so I remember it well.”
Situ Longqiu said regretfully, “I thought it was one of the world-renowned Five Great Mountains.”
Then she brightened up and said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s still very good.”
Because the seal that Dong Bude had given her had a side inscription with a rather rare and eccentric content: “Resting at the Great Dragon Falls on Yandang Mountain, in the third watch of the night, I dreamed of stars filling the sky, couldn’t sleep for joy, and jumped barefoot into the thick grass.”
After getting the seal, she had asked many well-read friends, but none could give her any information about the Great Dragon Falls on Yandang Mountain.
Chen Ping’an remembered something and said with a smile, “But there’s good news. Yandang Mountain is very likely to become one of the reserve assistant mountains for the new Eastern Sacred Mountain of the Vasebottle Continent, promoted to be one of the reserve sovereign mountains. Its fame should grow a lot in the future.”
Situ Longqiu was stunned. “Reserve sovereign mountain? What nonsense is that?”
Then she laughed. “Anyway, it’s good news.”
Situ Longqiu turned and walked back to Qi Shou’s group, then together they flew their swords north toward the city.
Guo Zhuijiu came running over and immediately crouched beside her master. She whispered, “Master, don’t worry, I won’t tell the mistress. The mistress is important, but I’m more on your side.”
Chen Ping’an smiled lightly and said, “Both you and Sister Situ are immortal maidens in my hometown.”
Guo Zhuijiu asked curiously, “Immortal maidens? Do they fart? If they do, is it smelly? Would they hold it in under their skirts? Otherwise, they wouldn’t be immortal maidens, right? If I were a man admiring immortal maidens, I couldn’t stand that. So if I were an immortal maiden, I would only secretly fart under the covers, lift the corner of the blanket, fan the air, and probably not smell it myself.”
Chen Ping’an was long accustomed to Guo Zhuijiu’s wild thoughts. He took another sip of the water elixir wine from the Sword-Nourishing Gourd—his poor water mansion, nearly depleted of spiritual qi, was slightly soothed. He patted the girl’s head, stood up, and said, “Come, let’s go find your mistress.”
Master and disciple went to find Ning Yao.
Guo Zhuijiu hopped and skipped, but unfortunately she wasn’t carrying her little bamboo basket. She casually asked, “Master, how many great demons did you kill this time?”
Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Master was lucky just to survive.”
Guo Zhuijiu pivoted smoothly, without any hesitation, and nodded. “Master showed mercy, sparing their dog heads for a little while longer.”
Chen Ping’an asked, “How’s your father doing?”
Guo Zhuijiu grinned. “I met him on the way. He allowed me to find you first and come home later.”
This simple phrase, with its “met him on the way” that could be pondered further, warmed Chen Ping’an’s somewhat gloomy heart amid his first experience of a large-scale war. It was like the clouds parting and the moon shining brightly.
The position Chen Ping’an was responsible for was relatively central, not too close to Ning Yao and the others.
Guo Zhuijiu didn’t mind the distance. Accompanying her master on travels was good; every extra step was fine. Maybe by walking, the little junior sister would surpass the not-so-tall senior sister.
They went to the left. Along the way, they passed the Jade Purity stage bottleneck sword immortal Wu Chengpei, who still hadn’t drawn his sword once. He had always used the entire battlefield as a whetstone to forge his sword.
On the Sword Qi Great Wall, there were all kinds of bizarre natal flying swords. Some could transform into a golden body of an ancient god; some could create talisman arrays; some could have five thunders coiling around the sword, unleashing the Five Thunder Orthodox Method with each strike. There were even a pair of Earth Immortal sword cultivators who were lovers: one flying sword could transform into a flood dragon, while the other was named “Dotting the Eyes.” When the two swords cooperated, their power multiplied, no less than that of a sword immortal. The variety was endless.
No wonder the Sword Qi Great Wall had no need for other types of cultivators.
Pang Yuanji also hadn’t left the wall. By his side was a girl who admired him, Gao Youqing, the younger sister of Gao Yihou.
When they saw Chen Ping’an and Guo Zhuijiu, Pang Yuanji smiled and nodded.
Chen Ping’an learned on the spot, smirking as he asked, “Brother Pang, how many great demons have you killed?”
Pang Yuanji smiled and said, “The same as you.”
Chen Ping’an said, “You’re an Earth Immortal great cultivator, and you’re competing with a second-stage cultivator? That’s beneath your dignity.”
Guo Zhuijiu ran over to Gao Youqing, stood on tiptoe, and patted Gao Youqing’s head with a kind and benevolent expression. She nodded and said, “Youqing, remember, a married daughter is like water spilled. You’re not married yet, so restrain yourself, you must restrain yourself.”
Gao Youqing reached out and slapped away Guo Zhuijiu’s hand, glaring. “Green, don’t talk nonsense.”
Her peripheral vision, however, lingered on the white-clothed Pang Yuanji.
Chen Ping’an and Guo Zhuijiu continued walking. Chen Ping’an spotted a young man on the wall who was spitting saliva everywhere and signaled Guo Zhuijiu to stay quiet.
But after Chen Ping’an took a few steps, Gu Jianlong felt something was off. He quickly spotted the benevolent-looking second boss. Without a word, Gu Jianlong called his friends and hurriedly flew his sword back into the city.
By Ning Yao, two unfamiliar faces had appeared.
Chen Shi, a worthy of the Chen family of pure Confucians, and Qin Zhengxiu, a gentleman from the Mountain Foot Academy in the Bodhi Continent.
Neither of them had killed any demons like Liu Xianyang. The reason was simple: they weren’t sword cultivators, and since the Demon Clan army couldn’t approach the city wall, they couldn’t help much. Moreover, sword cultivators required tight, seamless coordination when striking. Some of Chen Shi and Qin Zhengxiu’s techniques and divine abilities, though powerful, could easily disrupt things.
So the two close friends spent their time on a genuine tour. They walked the entire walking path on the wall, and after returning the same way, they took advantage of the battle lull to greet Chen Sanqiu and the others.
Because the Confucian gentleman who had taken the sword “Haoran Qi” from the Sword Qi Great Wall in his early years was a close friend of Qin Zhengxiu—they had become gentlemen at the same time.
That gentleman had asked Qin Zhengxiu to convey his regards.
Qin Zhengxiu was chatting with Diezhang.
Diezhang was talking about some inside details of the battle. She said that in the earlier engagement, the Sword Qi Great Wall didn’t need to maximize casualties too early. In fact, they would even pull back the line appropriately in the future to slowly grind down the Demon Clan army. But if it became urgent and the Demon Clan army reached the wall, possibly succeeding in assaulting the wall, many sword immortals would leave the wall to firmly hold the front line, cutting off the battlefield. Then, led by Earth Immortal sword cultivators, they would descend the city for close combat. The mid-five-realm sword cultivators, with lower combat power, would only be responsible for holding the wall.
Chen Sanqiu and Yan Zhuo were squatting nearby, watching the fun and snickering. They imitated the second boss, hands tucked into sleeves, like farmers watching their crops from the ridges.
Diezhang speaking so softly to someone was rare.
Ning Yao was resting with her eyes closed.
Earlier, after Qin Zhengxiu introduced himself and mentioned his relationship with that Confucian gentleman, Ning Yao had spoken a few extra words, which was unusual. Then she had left the group to nurture her sword intent alone.
Dong Huafu was chatting with Fan Dache about what to eat and drink when they got back to the city. Dong Huafu said that Fan Dache had performed well this time and should buy a pot of Qingshen Mountain wine to celebrate.
Chen Shi suddenly said, “There might have been a traitorous sword cultivator who paid the price of losing a natal flying sword to secretly send information to the Demon Clan.”
This was an extremely unwelcome statement.
This was probably one reason why Chen Shi, whenever he left his family, inexplicably made enemies everywhere.
But Ning Yao and the others didn’t show any particular expression.
“It rains, mothers marry, shops need to earn money. Who can stop it?”
Dong Huafu turned his head and said, “To survive, they paid the price of a natal flying sword. I wonder if you scholars from South Bodhi Continent would dare to spend half a life to survive. I’ve heard that ordinary scholars who don’t cultivate have plenty of knowledge, but they can’t withstand pain. As the saying goes, no knife at home, no well in the backyard, hanging oneself looks too ugly, the porch pillars are too hard, and the water is too cold?”
Qin Zhengxiu frowned.
Chen Shi, on the other hand, smiled. “There are indeed such sayings. What can we do? There are too many scholars in the Haoran World; both good and bad exist.”
Dong Huafu glanced at the young scholar a few times and nodded. “You’re easy to talk to. Later, you’ll treat me to a drink.”
Chen Shi found it amusing and asked with a smile, “Shouldn’t it be you treating me to a drink?”
Dong Huafu grinned. “Dache.”
Fan Dache immediately and helplessly said, “Even the second boss can’t get Dong Black Charcoal to spend money.”
Qin Zhengxiu turned his head. Two people were approaching. One was a young man wearing a workshop dharma robe and a sword from the sword workshop. His face was pale, looking like a sickly weakling who couldn’t fight. But because of Liu Xianyang, Qin Zhengxiu knew that this was Chen Ping’an from the Longquan of Great Li in the Vasebottle Continent, now a direct disciple of the Wen Sheng lineage and the junior brother of the great sword immortal Zuo You. Earlier, Liu Xianyang and Chen Ping’an had fought side by side, and Qin Zhengxiu was amazed. Liu Xianyang had hidden his abilities—even Chen Shi, who was very close to Liu Xianyang, had only just learned that Liu Xianyang was a sword cultivator.
Chen Ping’an smiled and made a deep bow. “I have met the gentleman and the worthy.”
Qin Zhengxiu and Chen Shi returned the bow.
Dong Huafu muttered, “A student of the Secondary Sage lineage meets a disciple of the Wen Sheng lineage. Even if they don’t fight, they should at least argue.”
Ning Yao stood up and said, “Let’s go back.”
Chen Ping’an summoned his talisman boat and boarded the ferry.
Qin Zhengxiu and Chen Shi declined Chen Ping’an’s invitation, saying they wanted to continue exploring the Sword Qi Great Wall.
The talisman boat headed north.
On the ferry, aside from Chen Ping’an, everyone was a sword cultivator.
Chen Ping’an and Guo Zhuijiu sat on one side, rowing vigorously.
Chen Sanqiu and Yan Zhuo rowed on the other side.
Dong Huafu shook his head. “Too shameful.”
Fan Dache agreed.
On the wall, Qin Zhengxiu watched that scene.
On the ferry, aside from Chen Ping’an, everyone was a sword cultivator, but none chose to fly on their swords.
Chen Shi smiled. “Liu Xianyang often boasts to me about Chen Ping’an from his hometown—how clever he is, how fast he learns, and aside from being a bit taciturn and not talkative, he seems to have no flaws. At first, he swore with certainty that Chen Ping’an would be the best porcelain maker in the world. Later, Liu Xianyang stopped mentioning dragon kiln porcelain.”
Qin Zhengxiu said, “Probably even Liu Xianyang didn’t expect that Chen Ping’an would become the closed-door disciple of Mr. Wen Sheng.”
Chen Shi glanced at the departing talisman boat. “I imagine Chen Ping’an also didn’t expect Liu Xianyang to become a sword cultivator.”
Chen Shi sighed. “My elder sister once said that the Pearl Bead Cave Heaven in the Vasebottle Continent is a blessed land of outstanding people and excellent feng shui.”
Inside the Jiashen Tent.
The sword cultivator Yu Si entered. Except for Li Zhen, everyone’s gaze converged on him.
The boy in clogs asked, “How was it?”
Yu Si smiled. “Good heavens, I’m sure he’s a sword cultivator, not some Confucian student cultivating Haoran righteousness. But his swordsmanship is mysterious.”
Saying this, Yu Si raised his arm, emitting a faint bloody smell. “Look, the dharma robe is completely undamaged.”
Yu Si rolled up his sleeve. His arm, originally wrapped in several golden talisman pages, was now bloody and mangled. He laughed bitterly. “Good thing I had some protective items. Otherwise, even if I didn’t die, I would have been flayed by this guy’s unnoticed sword intent.”
The boy in clogs asked, “How did Liu Xianyang deliver his sword?”
Yu Si shook his head. “Sorry, I really don’t know how he struck. No sound, no warning, it just came… Like when the seniors glance at you, and you get goosebumps.”
The boy in clogs frowned. “Is it because Liu Xianyang’s sword qi is so fast that it passes through the flow of time without causing even a ripple? For example, Qi Shou, who just broke through, has a flying sword named ‘Heartstrings,’ whose innate ability reduces the natural resistance of the river of time to the flying sword to a minimum, making it extremely fast. Or is Liu Xianyang’s natal flying sword even stranger than that?”
The young woman said, “The great sword immortal Han Huaizi from Northern Jambu Continent, and the new sword immortal Liu Jinglong from the Supreme Sword Sect, have a natal flying sword that is extremely mysterious and cunning. Although its name is unknown, it is hailed as ‘close to the Dao.’”
Yu Si shook his head vigorously, swinging his arm a bit, distressed by the destruction of those golden talisman pages. “His realm shouldn’t be that high; he’s definitely not an upper-five-realm sword immortal. It’s just his swordsmanship that’s too strange.”
A message flying sword entered the Jiashen Tent.
After reading the secret letter, the boy in clogs showed a smile.
Everyone in the tent smiled a little.
The boy stood up, walked around the desk, and with two fingers together, drew a circle.
Inside the tent, a hanging scroll about ten feet long appeared in midair.
The boy in clogs said in a deep voice, “The Guiwei Tent has sent intelligence to all military tents. This is a distribution map of the Sword Qi Great Wall’s defenses. Each upper-five-realm sword immortal’s approximate role and some relatively fixed positions are recorded and marked on the letter. Additionally, Nascent Soul sword cultivators with formidable killing power who can defend a region independently, along with all Golden Elixir sword cultivators with great killing power, have special detailed records—especially the youngest talents like Ning Yao. Some Dragon Gate and View the Sea stage cultivators have separate annotations.”
The boy in clogs began to report important sword immortals and cultivators, their sword positions, and specific defensive duties. Each time he said a name, the young woman wrote a very tiny name on the scroll. Fortunately, everyone in the Jiashen Tent had excellent eyesight. Even if their realm wasn’t high, with a little focus, they could see the tiny words clearly from close range.
The names on the scroll were in three colors: gold, vermillion, and black. They corresponded to upper-five-realm sword immortals, Nascent Soul sword cultivators, and all middle-five-realm sword cultivators, including Golden Elixir stage.
The boy in clogs emphasized, “Anyone with a name on this scroll, even if it’s an inconspicuous black color, the lower their realm, the more we need to find opportunities to kill them.”
The young woman said, “Then shall I mark these special names with golden ink?”
The boy nodded. “Yes. For example, Sword Immortal Guo Jiazhi’s daughter Guo Zhuijiu, and Gao Yihou’s little sister Gao Youqing.”
On the scroll,
were the ten peak figures of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Plus great sword immortals like Yue Qing, Yao Lianyun from the Yao family, Han Huaizi from Northern Jambu Continent, and Li Tuimi, a guest of the Yan family.
In previous sieges, the great demons of the Barrenwild World had not considered such details, but when they did, things always changed faster than plans.
This time, the Barrenwild World had sixty military tents including the Jiashen Tent, with nearly five thousand cultivators. Some, like the Jiashen Tent, were only responsible for their own territory’s battle situation. More tents had to handle one major matter each.
This was because the Jiashen Tent was relatively special: it had too many potential sword immortal seeds, so it didn’t need to be distracted. Li Zhen of Mount Support Moon, Bei Qie, Tantun, Yu Si, the young female sword cultivator Liubai—the entire Barrenwild World had gathered a hundred sword immortal seeds, and this single Jiashen Tent had as many as five. That was the maximum.
Other tents would handle other matters. For example, the Guiwei Tent needed to pay extra attention to the movements of the main sword cultivators on the Sword Qi Great Wall, recording each sword immortal’s attacks: why they struck, at whom, the intensity and killing power, whether they had broken through—and a crucial and covert point: identifying if they were intentionally holding back. If so, they would be marked, and their future battlefield performance would be observed to see if they continued to be so “polite.” If the answer was yes, besides confirming their sincerity, the number of troops in the corresponding tent’s battlefield could be appropriately reduced, and the offensive need not be too fierce. But it must never be too obvious—otherwise, if the two sides reached a tacit understanding and the Sword Qi Great Wall saw through it, given Chen Qingdu’s temper, that sword immortal’s fate would certainly not be good. Then, killing the chicken to scare the monkeys, how would those sword immortals dare to secretly show goodwill?
There was the Xinmao Tent, which was additionally responsible for the specific deployment of all upper-five-realm cultivators from our side, allocating them to other tent battlefields.
The Gengyin Tent managed military supplies. The Yiwei Tent was in charge of subsequent troops, leading them to predetermined positions behind the battlefield, setting up camps, ready to go to battle at any time, and arranging a suitable advance route.
As for why the peak great demons of the Barrenwild World, except for a few, seemed to be absent—besides the battlefield not yet requiring these big shots to act—they were actually very busy. Mobilizing half the world’s forces to attack the Sword Qi Great Wall was an unprecedented feat in the history of the Barrenwild World. Behind the battlefield, many unruly separatist forces were not willing to obey orders. Some extremely powerful individual great demons truly didn’t understand how to read the situation, requiring suppression. There were those who outwardly obeyed but hid their resources. The most troublesome were internal conflicts and incessant infighting. There was even a group of sword immortals who refused to be upright sword immortals and didn’t want to fight openly, instead acting as insidious assassins. They specialized in assassinating leaders leading troops north, thus hindering the advance of various northern Demon Clan armies.
When a sword immortal was determined to kill and flee, it was a huge problem.
Defeating a cultivator was worlds apart from killing a cultivator.
Why, knowing that Chen Ping’an was fishing, did the Jiashen Tent still want to kill him? It was because Chen Ping’an had killed Li Zhen, not just won. Someone like that, who would become a huge trouble once truly grown, was worth the Jiashen Tent staking an upper-five-realm sword cultivator. But at that time, due to a lack of intelligence on the female sword immortal Xie Songhua from the Snowy Continent, they couldn’t accurately assess her sword style and killing power. The Jiashen Tent paid a huge price. The boy in clogs unhesitatingly took the blame on himself. Even if it meant possibly losing the chance to be granted a surname by Mount Support Moon and be recorded in the genealogy, he still felt no regret.
In war, people die, many people die. It’s not a child’s game. As long as you win, everything can be made up. But if you lose the war, it’s hard to say who will be the master of the Barrenwild World.
The territory of the Barrenwild World was probably about two Northern Jambu Continents larger than the Haoran World.
Compared to the relatively prosperous Haoran World, the Barrenwild World, to some extent, was like an empty shell: barren lands, scarce resources.
Although it had its unique advantages, it still fell far short of its neighbor.
But this huge disparity was a comparison of one entire world to another.
Moreover, the reproduction and expansion of the Demon Clan were extremely fast.
In addition, Demon Clan cultivators had almost no moral constraints.
There were also some large dynasties with vast territories, fertile lands coveted by other forces, and many feng shui treasures with abundant spiritual qi, said to be no less than the cave heavens and blessed lands of the Haoran World and the Qingming World.
Yu Si took a gulp of cheap wine, wiped his mouth, and laughed. “That Chen Ping’an—I glanced at him on the battlefield too. Like Tantun said, he’s very crafty. Going head-to-head with him is extremely troublesome.”
Li Zhen said, “He dropped in realm and isn’t a natural-born sword cultivator. It would be very forced for him to act now. Being able to hold his position was thanks to the help of Liu Xianyang and Qi Shou. Even so, calculating his own flying sword’s killing power, assessing enemy strength, and focusing on details and attrition are his strengths.”
The woman said, “To deal with this guy, we must create an overwhelming situation.”
The boy in clogs asked, “Then shall we try a siege? Li Zhen, you lead the attack, Yu Si helps suppress, Tantun is responsible for picking off the leftovers. As for whether it works, we’ll try.”
Bei Qie suddenly said, “Replace Li Zhen with me.”
Li Zhen’s face darkened.
Bei Qie said, “It’s my master’s idea.”
Only then did Li Zhen’s expression improve slightly.
Among the peak great demons of the Barrenwild World, even notorious overlords like the Bone Valley great demon Bai Ying and the Lord of Yeluo River were often criticized.
But Bei Qie’s master was a more accessible figure, as he often wandered the four directions without a sect or residence.
Yet there was almost no criticism of him. At worst, people said he had only his realm and was unwilling to contribute to the Barrenwild World.
It was said that during the Thirteen Conflict back then, if he had been willing to fight, there wouldn’t have been the trouble of the two subsequent siege battles.
But he directly refused.
Two great demons who broke their oaths and died—disciples from their sects, losing their minds, went to seek revenge on him.
He didn’t even draw his sword; with a single punch, he killed the leading Jade Purity stage Demon Clan, reportedly just one punch.
The other cultivators were all killed by the then still-young sword cultivator Bei Qie, who was a half-breed, with his sword one by one. Only a few ants were lucky enough to escape back to their sects to deliver the message, then rushed to apologize. Finally, the two Jade Purity stage Demon Clan served as his attendants for several years, helping Bei Qie feed his sword.
The principles of the Barrenwild World had always been simple and straightforward: the bigger fist has more reason.
If the Barrenwild World had its own orthodox historical record, every page would be steeped in heavy blood.
Many local powers that had barely achieved the prototype of a dynasty or signs of a great kingdom were wantonly trampled and destroyed by capricious peak great demons.
Many capital cities, painstakingly built by several generations of monarchs, would become ruins overnight, covered in blood.
For example, the Bone Valley great demon Bai Ying had six trusted generals, each of whom delighted in turning a thousand miles of a country into tombs, reducing it to marionettes of bones, then raising them like venomous insects, eventually leaving behind a few usable materials.
Only sword cultivators, regardless of realm, could avoid such inexplicable calamities.
This was a rule set by Mount Support Moon.
The sword cultivator seeds of the Barrenwild World were like the scholarly seeds of the Haoran World—arguably, they were even better cared for.
This was the strangest thing of all.
The common enemy of the Barrenwild World was the Sword Qi Great Wall and its sword cultivators.
But no matter how the Barrenwild World attacked, no matter how many times it ended in bitter failure,
they always had a pure respect for the sword immortals and sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
On the battlefield, they fought ruthlessly.
Off the battlefield, when speaking of the sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall, those who had personally experienced battle might have a deep hatred, but they never resorted to slander or abuse.
Ning Yao returned alone to the Ning residence, saying she would go into seclusion to forge her sword.
The others had a drink at Diezhang’s tavern. Fan Dache had long accepted his fate and treated everyone with borrowed money.
The drink was quick. Chen Sanqiu and the others each went home. Guo Zhuijiu flew over roofs and walked on walls, heading to see her little bamboo basket. She had missed it a lot.
In the end, only the tavern’s big boss and second boss remained, along with many drunkards who came to satisfy their cravings. Diezhang was busy with business, while Chen Ping’an crouched by the roadside drinking.
Yu Juanfu and Zhu Mei had also come to drink.
Yu Juanfu carried a wine jug and walked toward Chen Ping’an. The sword cultivators sitting around the second boss immediately grinned and made room, one after another, considerate.
Yu Juanfu sat down on the steps beside him. Zhu Mei stood not far away; she couldn’t learn the code of brotherhood from Sister Xi.
Yu Juanfu asked, “Chen Ping’an, is your fist technique not widely spread in the Vasebottle Continent?”
Chen Ping’an shook his head. “Very few people learn it, only a handful. In terms of the number of practitioners, it’s a small style. In terms of the height of its fist intent, it’s a great style.”
Yu Juanfu nodded. “Chen Ping’an, strive to reach the Far Travel stage as soon as possible. As for you and Cao Ci, don’t dwell on genius or not. On the martial path, even if you two are ahead, that’s not a bad thing—at least for me. Don’t be like those mountain cultivators who only take the single-plank bridge.”
Chen Ping’an raised his wine bowl and smiled. “Mutual encouragement.”
After drinking, Yu Juanfu left with Zhu Mei.
Chen Ping’an greeted the kid Taoban and returned to the Ning residence. But at the gate, he told the waiting White Stewardess that he needed to go back to the city wall.
He piloted his talisman boat out of the city, passing below the private residences of sword immortals.
At the wall, he first went to find his senior brother Zuo You.
After explaining his thoughts, Zuo You smiled. “It’s best to think that way. It saves me some trouble. With your current cultivation, how much can you really do? The final direction of the situation will go as it will. Your patching and mending, though well-intentioned, won’t amount to much. But before that, I have a question for you. Set aside realms and identities for a moment. Just consider a possibility: if you were to die here and that could defend the Sword Qi Great Wall, would you die?”
Chen Ping’an was silent.
Zuo You said, “Anyway, it’s just an impossible possibility. So you only need to know the answer in your heart. Don’t struggle too much with yourself. How can you struggle with heaven and earth? Don’t think that having many thoughts is a bad thing. Our Confucianism teaches that things have roots and branches, events have beginnings and ends. Knowing the order brings one close to the Dao. Buddhism has its stages: gradual enlightenment, sudden enlightenment, calm reflection. Daoism also talks about accumulating millet. Take it slowly.”
Chen Ping’an looked down at the southern battlefield and said softly, “Senior brother’s instruction, I will remember.”
Zuo You remembered something. “Don’t slacken in your studies. I’ll give you another two small questions. Think about why Buddhism and Daoism have such different approaches to creating statues of gods. Also, the four great Bodhisattvas of Buddhism—wisdom, compassion, practice, and vows. According to Mr.’s sequential theory, what order is better, even the best? Is it wisdom first, giving rise to compassion, making great vows, and then practicing? Or is it having compassion first, making vows, and generating wisdom through practice? Think it over for yourself.”
Chen Ping’an nodded. “Yes.”
Then he smiled bitterly. “Senior brother, these are not small questions.”
Zuo You said, “To me, they are small questions. To Mr., they are not even questions.”
Chen Ping’an took his leave and went away. His mind stirred slightly, so he didn’t go to the thatched cottage to find the chief sword immortal.
Instead, something else arose that required Chen Ping’an’s attention.
Zuo You frowned. “Can’t you be more straightforward? Do you have to torment my junior brother like this?”
If that chief sword immortal weren’t indeed highly skilled in swordsmanship, Zuo You would have said, “Who do you think you are?”
Chen Qingdu came to Zuo You’s side, hands behind his back, smiling. “Being the best with the sword is great. Every day feels fresh and refreshing.”
Chen Qingdu’s gaze landed on a distant small world.
Inside that small world was a proper school. A man in Confucian robes was teaching a group of teenagers and children.
He first discussed the pioneering of poetry and literature, using “The white sun is close to the mountains” and “Spring grass grows by the pond” as examples. He explained that although these two lines seemed simple and straightforward, they actually occupied all the advantages, leaving no room for later poets.
This Confucian scholar was named Zhou Mi. Behind him were paired screens with gold-and-green landscape paintings. On the desk in front were books and scholarly supplies, including the four treasures of the study, as well as a small set of nine items like paperweights and ink rests.
The more ostentatious and impractical magical treasures—like the miscellaneous literary antiques common among ordinary immortal mountains and secular powerful gates in the Haoran World—were often treasured by many Demon Clan cultivators in the Barrenwild World.
This Zhou Mi was the second-highest great demon on the throne in the ancient well deep abyss, second only to the gray-robed old man, even higher than the sword-carrying, big-bearded man Liu Cha.
He was hailed as the “Ocean of Learning” of the Barrenwild World, Mount Support Moon of scholarship.
He had read extensively, was knowledgeable in everything, and excelled in every field. He was highly skilled in Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism, the hundred schools of thought, poetry, mathematics, calligraphy, painting, epigraphy, phonetics, and exegesis.
Zhou Mi styled himself the Old Bookworm and was also known as the Peerless Old Fox.
Among his disciples were Shou Chen, Cai Ying, Tong Xuan, Tong Yin, Yuzao, and Liubai from the Jiashen Tent. They were all among the hundred sword immortal seeds.
In addition, an earlier group of disciples were now individuals of the military, commercial, and technical schools.
Zhou Mi’s disciples could only have their surnames after the Sword Qi Great Wall was breached.
In fact, the person responsible for writing this genealogy was Zhou Mi himself.
It was said that the Bone Valley great demon Bai Ying had once asked curiously, “Master Zhou, do you want to become the master of culture and education in our world?”
Zhou Mi smiled and answered, “Not enough.”
Today, Zhou Mi again talked about trivial knowledge—how to be innocent in character and worldly in dealings. He talked for another half hour.
Moreover, he often first asked the students for their answers, then as the teacher, Zhou Mi gave his own answer. If someone had a brilliant interpretation, Zhou Mi would directly give them a desk item. Today, he gave a student a book seal he had personally carved with the inscription “Endless Streams and Mountains.”
When Zhou Mi first started teaching, he had openly said to all his first-generation disciples that the scholars of the Haoran World no longer valued principles. Of course, there were reasons for that, and the rights and wrongs, goods and bads, were very complicated. But the scholars of the Barrenwild World were far from reaching that level. They weren’t qualified to have principles, because their foundation was too poor. So at the beginning of studies, they should be reverent. All of Zhou Mi’s disciples had only one task: every day, they copied the classics of the hundred schools.
Today’s last question was Zhou Mi talking about people and time.
This touched on a fundamental tenet: Zhou Mi firmly believed that the Demon Clan gained intelligence and took human form, but only by reading books could they truly become human.
Zhou Mi wore a smile and elaborated on his thoughts.
Before the age of ten, time is a slowly flowing stream, so slow that it seems one will never grow up and cannot see the distant scenery.
After twenty, one doesn’t care about the passage of time; it’s fine whether fast or slow. Taking an extra look is a waste of time.
After thirty, time starts to sprint, catching the traveler off guard.
After forty, it becomes like a surging river about to enter the sea.
After sixty, it suddenly changes again—a quiet lake, still and unmoving.
At the final moment, it’s like a waterfall suddenly plunging into a deep pool.
Some disciples understood deeply; others were less attentive.
Zhou Mi didn’t judge them for it. He just smiled slightly and said, “The purer the knowledge, the less substantive it seems on the surface. But in my personal view, the true power in the world is not high position or a strong fist. It is a person’s ability to truly influence how many people’s hearts. If you take it to heart, good. If you don’t, it doesn’t matter. As long as you have a skill to stand on and the long years pass, as long as you don’t lock your heart, you will have the chance to rise step by step. The scenery on the great path is excellent. Once you reach the Haoran World, you can pick and choose as you like.”
After saying this, Zhou Mi turned his head to look at the landscape screens. In truth, he was looking at a spot on the Sword Qi Great Wall. He smiled and said, “Don’t say the sky is high and has no eyes, don’t say the earth is thick and has no heart.”
Chen Qingdu smiled. “You still have a long way to go before you can establish a sect and claim to be a patriarch.”
In the night, a simple-looking man passed through the newly opened gate of Daoxuan Mountain, coming from the Sword Qi Great Wall to the Reverence Sword Pavilion.
Walking beside him was the father of Yan Zhuo, who had used a disguise. He was the head of the Yan family, Yan Ming, who had done business with transcontinental ferryboats in the Haoran World for countless years.
The Reverence Sword Pavilion was closed, so only the two of them walked through it. The simple man began to take down the scrolls of sword immortals one by one.
Yan Ming said, “Chen Ping’an, help carve a seal. I’ll send the plain seal to the Ning residence later via Yan Zhuo. The fee will be one Rain Grain coin. You don’t need to think of the inscription; just five words: ‘Ascending the wall is like visiting a grave.’”
Chen Ping’an had just put away a scroll. He thought for a moment and asked, “Can I add five more words?”
Yan Ming smiled. “What do you mean?”
Chen Ping’an said, “‘Drawing the sword is like offering a libation.’”
Yan Ming was silent for a moment, then nodded. “I won’t let you carve five extra words for nothing. Two Rain Grain coins.”
Chen Ping’an shook his head. “Uncle Yan, no need to pay.”
Yan Ming asked, “Too little? So you just refuse?”
Chen Ping’an was speechless.
Yan Ming gestured for Chen Ping’an to continue his work. Walking beside him, he said with a cold expression, “A scholar, throwing punches and swords on the Sword Qi Great Wall. If you can, talk a little more ethically. If I weren’t a businessman, I would think that every word of yours deserves payment.”
Chen Ping’an carefully put away all the scrolls.
Why did the chief sword immortal ask him to do this? Why did he come to the Reverence Sword Pavilion to retrieve all the sword immortal scrolls? Chen Ping’an couldn’t guess or figure it out.
He just obeyed.
The two walked out of the Reverence Sword Pavilion together. As Chen Ping’an descended the steps, he suddenly said, “Uncle Yan, can I sit for a while?”
Yan Ming nodded. “I’ll wait for you at the gate. Don’t stay too long.”
After Yan Ming left,
in the deep night and silence, there was only one moon in the sky of the Haoran World.
Chen Ping’an sat alone on the steps, staring blankly into space.
Loving someone means taking care of her for life, giving her your own life too.
If I go first, the last thing I see is her. If she goes first, the last thing I see is her.
Can you find a friend to drink the best wine with, not caring about the cost? Drink the worst wine, but still enjoy it?
Can you keep some deceased people alive in your heart, so that whenever you recall their words and actions, you feel you haven’t done enough?
Growing up isn’t a slow change of years, nor is it moving from one place to another. It often happens in an instant.
When the heart goes, the flying sword goes. Body, mind, and life are all free.
But how exactly does one become a sword cultivator?
For some reason, the ancient remnants of sword intent on the Sword Qi Great Wall had never favored Chen Ping’an, not even a single thread.
Chen Ping’an exhaled, stood up, and made up his mind. Even if he didn’t have a very suitable natal object, he would improvise, gather the five elemental attributes, and get back to the third stage of Qi refiner cultivation, the Willow Tendon stage, as soon as possible.
But this move would be like forcing a plant to grow—in the long run, it would leave him stuck at the Man-Trapping stage for a long time.
Together with Yan Ming, he quietly returned to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
According to the chief sword immortal’s earlier instructions, Chen Ping’an gave the inch-object containing all the scrolls to Yan Ming, then returned to the Ning residence on his own.
On the wall, Chen Qingdu put away Chen Ping’an’s inch-object. Instead of opening it and taking out the sword immortal scrolls, he cast a forbidden spell and threw it back to Yan Ming. “Give it back to that kid. Tell him the inch-object has a small glitch and can’t be opened for now. We’ll talk later.”
Yan Ming left the Sword Qi Great Wall with a stiff neck.
Chen Qingdu and Zuo You, one standing and one sitting, gazed into the distance together.
Chen Qingdu suddenly asked, “Is your junior brother an idiot? He already had the last element, so why didn’t he refine it?”
Zuo You said, “That was Fiery Dragon True Person’s work, involving the fundamental true qi of a pure martial artist. With Chen Ping’an’s current realm, it’s impossible to separate it. One mistake, and everything falls apart. Chen Qingdu, don’t talk about it like it’s easy. For the sake of your Sword Qi Great Wall, do you want his Qi refiner cultivation to drop three realms and his pure martial arts to drop another before you’re satisfied?”
Chen Qingdu laughed. “What’s the use of you being the senior brother? Can’t you help?”
This statement hit a nerve, because Zuo You really couldn’t do it.
His swordsmanship was too high, his sword qi too abundant. It would easily conflict with the thing Fiery Dragon True Person had buried, turning Chen Ping’an’s small human world into a brutal battlefield.
To be honest, on the Sword Qi Great Wall, if Chen Qingdu didn’t do it, no one could.
But who would dare to ask Chen Qingdu to do anything?
Zuo You actually dared, but he knew that if Chen Qingdu was unwilling, it was useless.
Chen Qingdu was silent for a moment. “Can Chen Ping’an endure suffering?”
Zuo You nodded. “Yes.”
Chen Qingdu asked with a smile, “If I want to separate that seed of fire and refine it into the fifth natal object, it will cost something. Chen Ping’an will have to walk a path similar to ‘emaciating the body to achieve the true spirit of a god.’ Don’t worry, it’s only similar, not exactly that. Otherwise, not to mention you, Old Scholar would fight me to the death.”
For the first time, Zuo You hesitated.
Zuo You was in a dilemma.
Chen Qingdu clicked his tongue. “What a waste of being a senior brother. You’re not as decisive as your junior brother. Chen Ping’an has already agreed.”
Zuo You immediately stood up. “I’ll go protect the formation. I’ll leave the wall for now. Any missed strikes, I’ll make up for later.”
Chen Qingdu grabbed Zuo You’s shoulder. “Protect your grandmother’s formation. Stay put. Successfully refining the natal object is a foregone conclusion. As for the path afterward, what’s the point of protecting the formation? You’re not bad at killing, but teaching and saving people are really not your forte.”
Zuo You was truly furious.
He had put up with this chief sword immortal not just once, twice, or five times. Showing disrespect to Mr. and then mercilessly bullying his junior brother? Did they really think Zuo You was a mud bodhisattva without a temper?
Chen Qingdu increased the pressure of his hand and smiled. “Zuo You, it seems you still don’t trust your junior brother.”
Zuo You frowned and asked, “How sure?”
Chen Qingdu raised one finger. “One is one. Isn’t that enough?”
Zuo You was skeptical.
Chen Qingdu laughed. “Zuo You, your swordsmanship is so high. Would I dare to lie to you?”
Zuo You directly pulled his sword from its sheath.
The entire Sword Qi Great Wall instantly sensed that phenomenon.
But Chen Qingdu shifted his position slightly, grabbing the sword blade with his hand, letting the long sword slide through his palm.
On the wall, thousands of sparks shot out.
The battle began anew. On the wall, Liu Xianyang was not there this time; he was by Chen Chun’an’s side.
Chen Ping’an and Qi Shou were still neighbors.
Qi Shou thought it was strange. Today, Chen Ping’an felt a little different.
He still wore the same workshop dharma robe, but at his waist was a jade bamboo folding fan. He turned to Qi Shou and smiled. “It’s only been a few days, and Brother Qi’s presence is even more impressive than before.”
Qi Shou immediately understood, but then thought again—he wasn’t sure if this was another kind of disguise. So he said impatiently, “Stay away from me.”
That Chen Ping’an opened his folding fan, gently waving it to create a breeze. After casually summoning four flying swords, he shook his head with a sigh. “Brother Qi, Brother Qi, who gave you the confidence to look down on a third-stage great cultivator with your mere Nascent Soul stage?”
Qi Shou ignored him, but that day he was especially ruthless in killing enemies with his sword.
Originally, Qi Shou wanted to ask why Zuo You had suddenly drawn his sword earlier, but now he didn’t want to say a word.
Near the thatched cottage, on the wall, Zuo You asked the chief sword immortal via mind voice: “After the natal object is successfully refined and he endures the suffering, can he then nurture a natal flying sword? What grade would it be?”
Chen Qingdu looked blank. “Did I say that? When have I ever said such good things? Can a natal flying sword be given away for free?”
Zuo You turned his head to look at the old man by the thatched cottage door.
Chen Qingdu put away his smile. “I once borrowed a locust wood sword case. Repaying one with one, I only let Chen Ping’an become a sword case first, or a sword sheath. As for whether he can eventually nurture a uniquely blessed, destiny-born natal flying sword, and what grade it will be, that depends on his own fortune.”
Zuo You took a deep breath, then shot out over the wall. Once again, sword in hand, he left the city alone, drilling into the formations to find Flying Ascension stage great demons.
In the secret chamber of the Ning residence.
Chen Ping’an, a third-stage cultivator and seventh-stage pure martial artist, had only sent his yin spirit out traveling the Sword Qi Great Wall. His true body and yang spirit’s outer body remained at the Ning residence.
Because the chief sword immortal said that his yin spirit had accumulated too many thoughts, too mixed. No amount of sword-washing could make it pure. Even if he could wash it into a state of pure brightness, it wouldn’t be Chen Ping’an anymore.
Chen Ping’an concentrated his mind. What he repeated in his heart was a line from a book: “The essence soars to the eight extremes, the mind travels a thousand fathoms. In silent stillness, thoughts connect a thousand years.”
When his mind sank into silence, nearly falling asleep, only one pair of deep inner thoughts remained, slowly swimming like flood dragons at the bottom of his heart lake. But they didn’t fight each other; instead, they coexisted peacefully.
A sword cultivator’s body, mind, and life are all free.
The greatest killing power, reaching beyond the heavens!
Chen Ping’an suddenly opened his eyes and said in a deep voice, “I ask the chief sword immortal to strike!”
In the secret chamber, sword light exploded.
Chen Ping’an’s skin split open instantly. Even his Golden Body stage physique seemed like paper. In the blink of an eye, his entire body was bloody and mangled. Then his limbs and bones, his internal organs, even his eyeballs were completely dissolved by the sword light. In an instant, only a white skeleton remained.
In the end, even the skeleton was gone.
In the endless night, a bewildered young man stumbled along a road without any light, walking aimlessly.
As he walked, he came upon a stooped child in straw sandals, walking slowly with a large basket on his back.
The child stopped, looked up at the young man, and seemed very sad. As if he didn’t understand why the older version of himself was still so hard.
So the child was heartbroken. He didn’t want to walk anymore. He squatted down, leaned against the large basket that could never be filled with herbs, and sobbed.
The young man staggered, crouched down, and stared at the version of himself that had never grown up.
They looked at each other.
The young man said three words to the child.
“I’m sorry.”
Then the child wiped his tears and reached out his hand.
The young man took the child’s hand, stood up, and walked forward together.
The young man was still dazed, but from the bottom of his heart, he started telling the child about the beautiful things he would encounter in the future, as if he had completely forgotten the suffering, both spoken and unspoken, during his growth. As if he couldn’t remember those unpleasant people and things, that complicated world.
The child gradually began to smile. He looked up at the grown-up version of himself, with some anticipation.
Finally, the child stopped. He gripped the ropes of his basket tightly, smiled brightly, and then pointed the way ahead for the grown-up version of himself.
The young man looked up. At the end of the road, where there was originally no light at all, a flickering, uncertain speck of light appeared.
Suddenly,
the world became clear and bright, flooding with radiance.