Chapter 794: Understanding
At Mandarin Duck Shoal, two Flying Ascension cultivators were locked in a fierce battle.
This fight had erupted for no clear reason. It was not like the cautious and deliberate actions of an ancient old god on a mountain peak, but rather like two hot-blooded street youths who, meeting by chance on a narrow path, took one look at each other and found the other an eyesore, refusing to stop until one was knocked down.
The heavens and earth were dark and murky. It seemed as if the sun hanging in the sky had suddenly been devoured, swallowed into the belly of the yellow-robed old man. Only the countless vortices, like gods opening their heavenly eyes, made this small world appear even more eerie and sinister.
Even great cultivators like Qin Zao and Yan Ge felt their hearts tremble with fear. Such a pinnacle Flying Ascension realm—how had they never seen him before, or even heard a single rumor? Who was this "Nen Daoren"? Yan Ge could only be certain that this unruly old senior was definitely not some enlightened master from the Divine Continent of the Central Earth.
At Mandarin Duck Shoal, the higher the realm of the watching cultivators, the more clearly they could feel the vast and mighty aura of the Great Dao in motion.
Mandarin Duck Shoal was like a pond that had been drained to catch fish; all the fish seemed to have been thrown onto the shore. Every breath a cultivator took consumed the spiritual energy of their own personal heaven and earth.
For cultivators in the upper five realms, this was not a serious concern. But it was hard on the lower-five-realm cultivators who had accompanied their sect elders on this journey. Even though their teachers helped protect them—either by isolating a small pocket of heaven with supreme techniques, or by sacrificing sect treasures to shelter a space—those distracted young cultivators still feared the sky would fall. Their faces were pale, their bodies unsteady. Many had already been ordered by their masters to sit down cross-legged and begin breathing and circulating qi, using the secret Daoist heart-mind techniques passed down in their ancestral halls to resist the formless pressure of the Great Dao in the world.
Nan Guangzhao had long since summoned a natal artifact of great importance: a rare ancient shrine—a secret technique of refining a mountain into a shrine. Nan Guangzhao's true form stood at the entrance of the shrine, clad in a dharma robe of "Old Dragon" rank, an Immortal Artifact. Spiritual energy surged, water fortune undulated, dragging trails of colorful rainbow light. Each ribbon of light was actually the Dao manifestation of a river.
Nan Guangzhao's true body hid inside the shrine, and the shrine was located at the center of the dharma form's brow, like a red date mark.
Nan Guangzhao circulated his intent, controlling the dharma form as he fought against the astonishingly powerful Flying Ascension cultivator.
It could hardly be called a fight—more like a one-sided slaughter. Nan Guangzhao was doing his utmost to defend and desperately flee.
From within those vortices, an arm would often reach out, wielding an enormous dharma blade. With a single casual slash, it would strike countless sparks from Nan Guangzhao's dharma form, which scattered like rain.
All the middle-five-realm cultivators watching at Mandarin Duck Shoal who did not have their masters protecting them had already activated life-saving techniques or sacrificed various protective treasures. Like motes of dust, tiny specks of light flickered unsteadily in this dark, sunless little world, buffeted by fierce gale winds.
Some upper-five-realm cultivators had to protect nearby lower-five-realm cultivators they had no relation to, helping these pitiful souls avoid having their Dao hearts shatter, their souls leave their bodies, and instantly becoming wandering ghosts. Fortunately, any scattered remnants of Dao techniques from the combatants that went flying everywhere were broken up by great cultivators like Qin Zao and Yu Yue.
On the battlefield, the disparity was clear—anyone with eyes could see it.
Yan Ge, seeing through the origins of the two Immortal Artifacts—the mountain shrine and the water robe—said, "As expected, Nan Guangzhao successfully refined the famous mountains and great rivers of half a broken blessed land. Otherwise, that water robe would never have reached the rank of an Immortal Artifact."
Every time an Immortal Artifact on the mountain was forged and refined, it meant the cultivator possessed a relatively complete Dao. What truly benefited was not the nourishment of the artifact owner's soul—for great cultivators who could own Immortal Artifacts, that small gain was insignificant. The key was that the existence of the Immortal Artifact itself was in harmony with the Dao, hiding profound mysteries, recognized by heaven and earth. Each Immortal Artifact was itself a kind of "certification of the Dao," paving a shortcut to the summit for the cultivator.
Qin Zao asked in confusion, "Back in that huge turmoil, for an outsider like Liu Tui, it was like cultivation at home but disaster falling from the sky. Everyone knew he was innocently caught up in it. But in the end, even he was held accountable by the Confucian Temple, and they erased many of his sect's merits. Yet I never heard of Nan Guangzhao being involved. I only know he sold off the broken blessed land for money. Brother Tian Ni? Is there some story here?"
Tian Ni, who was extremely well-informed on mountain news and managed one of the most influential landscape gazettes in the Central Earth Divine Continent, quickly flipped through the yellowed pages of history. He shook his head and said, "The Confucian Temple was strict about this matter and wouldn't allow outsiders to investigate. I only know that after that unknown swordsman 'ascended' from the blessed land to the Haoran world, he caused his home blessed land to be coveted by various powers. The swordsman himself soon disappeared—even the Confucian Temple couldn't find him. Whether he was silenced or managed to escape, it's hard to say."
Earlier, after the blessed land in Fuyao Continent shattered, the creatures within that blessed land suffered great calamity, corpses littered the fields, mountains and rivers were broken like catkins in the wind. Several behind-the-scenes great cultivators each gained something, reaping the benefits as fishermen. Some obtained treasures, some made money, each grasping their own opportunities. However, one of them, said to be the mountain-topping ghost cultivator who was the chief culprit of the disaster—once as famous as Liu Tui as the leader of the mountain on that continent—was later detained by the Confucian Temple in the Forest of Merits, never to be heard from again. The others didn't seem to have held onto their profits for long either; their endings were not good. Decades later, one of them, an Immortal from Fuyao Continent, died inexplicably—his head cut off by a sword, his body thrown under the sect's archway and on the roof of the ancestral hall.
But unexpectedly, it was Nan Guangzhao, who had no connection at all to that destroyed blessed land in Fuyao Continent, who ended up profiting the most?
The former Fuyao Continent was somewhat similar to Tongye Continent—a mountain situation where two sects stood in opposition. Liu Tui's Celestial Ballad Village and the ghost cultivator Yang Qian Gu's Back Mountain each had a Flying Ascension cultivator sitting atop their mountain.
But the oddly named sect "Back Mountain," because it had so many ghost cultivators—half of its ancestral hall were ghost cultivators—was ultimately not very popular on or off the mountain. Its reputation still couldn't match Liu Tui's Celestial Ballad Village. After Yang Qian Gu was detained in the Forest of Merits, Back Mountain's status in Fuyao Continent plummeted, and finally, Bai Ying, the savage throne, broke through their mountain protection formation, leading to their sect's destruction.
A ghost cultivator sect with a bad reputation—they actually refused to surrender to the great demon Bai Ying. The vast majority fought to the death, with fewer than one in ten cultivators surviving. Only a group of young direct disciples who had evacuated early from Fuyao Continent were able to return from the Central Earth after the war ended. They gathered the scattered fellow sect members, whose situation was even worse than homeless dogs, and rebuilt the sect. Their difficulties far exceeded those of sects like Celestial Ballad Village and Lotus Flower City, which had preserved their ancestral halls.
Legend has it that after the White Emperor City lord appeared in Fuyao Continent, he was especially kind to the returning Back Mountain cultivators. He even said to the few young ghost cultivators, "People are worse than ghosts—what's wrong with having more ghosts in Back Mountain?"
It was also said that the madman of White Emperor City, the young cultivator Gu Can, had exceptionally taken up the position of the first honored guest of the "new" Back Mountain.
Then, a brand new vortex appeared in the sky. Suddenly, a huge hand, white as jade, viciously grabbed the head of Nan Guangzhao's dharma form and pressed it down hard. From a distance, the yellow-robed old man swept his blade horizontally, and the sword light seemed to spread a Milky Way across the sky, cutting Nan Guangzhao's dharma form in two. From the mountain shrine at the center of the dharma form's brow, two ribbons of light as long as waterfalls flew out from the dharma robe of the Flying Ascension old cultivator's true body, eventually forming a sash that stitched the severed dharma form back together.
Nan Guangzhao finally showed some panic. If it were an ordinary sword immortal, with residual sword energy, the dharma form wouldn't fail to stitch itself back together. Why would he need to waste his real cultivation and turn the rivers into a "shame-covering" sash?
Nan Guangzhao could only send a voice transmission: "Daoist friend, I concede."
Unexpectedly, the yellow-robed old man ignored him, took a step forward, twisted his wrist, and slashed his long blade from a distance again—clearly intending to split Nan Guangzhao's dharma form in two from the top of the head.
Just as he dodged that irresistible blade light, an arm holding a blade shot out violently from another vortex, stabbing through the back of Nan Guangzhao's dharma form and emerging from the chest. The dharma blade lifted, its tip slightly tilted, raising the dharma form high. Another arm tightly clamped the dharma form's neck, pulling it backward. Most of the dharma blade had already pierced through Nan Guangzhao's dharma form.
The entire chest of Nan Guangzhao's dharma form was covered with crisscrossing black-gold threads, like a spiderweb spreading relentlessly, rapidly consuming the spiritual energy of Nan Guangzhao's dharma body. Even the true Dao meaning contained in the dharma form itself was being absorbed and stolen by those strange threads. The owner of the dharma blade stepped out from the vortex. His enormous body was pitch black, with only a pair of snow-white eyes crackling with lightning. He released the blade hilt, reached out with fingers like hooks, grabbed one side of Nan Guangzhao's dharma form's head, viciously tore off a large piece of "snow white," and threw it into his mouth, chewing loudly and devouring it with great relish.
Nan Guangzhao, a true Flying Ascension cultivator, a famous old god on the mountain in the Central Earth Divine Continent, was like a man bitten by a mad dog that refused to let go and tore away a chunk of flesh.
At the same time, from another vortex, a golden spear was hurled with great force, regardless of friend or foe, piercing both dharma forms together and nailing them firmly into the void of heaven and earth.
The entire world lit up. From each vortex, weapons flashed and streaked across the sky, stabbing straight at the entangled pair. Each weapon tilted and embedded itself into the bodies of the two dharma forms.
It was like a "flower garden."
The yellow-robed old man casually slashed out a blade—that was the answer.
He cut through the two restrained dharma forms at the same time, from shoulder to ribs, cleaving them open on the spot.
Nan Guangzhao could only continue to control the water robe ribbons, laboriously sewing up the gaps in his dharma form.
This scene made all the watching cultivators' hearts tremble.
This Nen Daoren, who had appeared from who knows where, was so ruthless he even slashed himself.
They saw the yellow-robed old man plant the scabbard on the ground. At the base of the scabbard, where it touched the void, ripples of golden light spread out. Strange golden flowers, not recorded in any book, seemed to spring forth from water, standing gracefully, swaying in a charming dance.
This Nen Daoren's face was ferocious. Concede? Back in his homeland, he had personally killed countless heroes and villains. None of the demon cultivators who ended up in his belly had ever spoken the word "concede."
A cultivation age of several thousand years—he had encountered Flying Ascension demon lords he couldn't handle. If not twenty, at least a dozen. Those who couldn't win would just flee. Those who couldn't flee would die. And every single one of them was a hundred times more troublesome than this nameless fellow. Finally catching a good opponent with a high realm but no real skill—a perfect victim. If he missed this chance, there wouldn't be another. If he didn't cherish it today, shouldn't he be struck by lightning?!
If the Old Blind Man heard about this—with his petty and narrow-minded temper—wouldn't he come to skin and strip him alive?
In the sky of this small world, a golden sea of clouds slowly gathered, thunder rumbling, heart-stopping.
Even Immortals like Qin Zao felt that if this kept up, the situation would become dangerous.
Perhaps the entire Mandarin Duck Shoal, the whole huge island, would be swept clean by that Dao technique.
At the entrance of the shrine at the center of the dharma form's brow, Nan Guangzhao's true body was bleeding from all seven orifices, in a tragic state. The "Dragon King" water robe, which had been painstakingly elevated to Immortal Artifact grade, was stained with large patches of bright red. Obviously, Nan Guangzhao had been wounded in the very foundation of his Dao, and he didn't have time to use techniques to fix the mess. He roared in anger, "Nen Daoren! Are you really going to fight to the death with me?!"
But his voice transmission was much more "circuitous." He forced himself to calm down and asked tentatively, "Daoist friend, why don't we just call it quits? I won't concern myself with Yun Miao's matter anymore, and afterward I will definitely compensate you. In any case, we can negotiate."
The yellow-robed old man sneered. What an eye-opener today! First he concedes, now he wants to talk money?
In the Savage Wasteland, there were none of these fancy tricks. Before a fight, they didn't bother with any damned friendly relations, or whose portraits hung in the ancestral hall, or what great deeds they had done. After a fight, there was no need to beg for mercy. If your luck was bad, if your skills were inferior, you just obediently accepted death!
If backing down worked, would he need to be a watchdog in the Ten Thousand Mountains?!
The crowd heard the yellow-robed old man burst into laughter: "We're only halfway through the fight. You clearly still have plenty of tricks up your sleeve, planning to take them to your coffin? Why not bring them out and show off a bit? What, are you looking down on Nen Daoren?"
He raised the long blade crackling with lightning, gently wiped it with his left hand, condensed a ball of lightning in his palm, threw it into his mouth, and chewed it like a snack. Nen Daoren sneered, "This place of mine isn't for people to watch for free. How about you set up a world of your own, and we change locations to fight? More satisfying, and settle life and death."
On the Confucian Temple side, sparring in Dao techniques was always restrictive. Earlier, when Chen Ping'an fought the Immortal Yun Miao, both sides also had to hold back constantly, carefully measuring their strength to avoid harming innocent bystanders, needing to consider the safety of the many cultivators at Mandarin Duck Shoal.
In the history of the Central Earth Divine Continent, there had been a sudden life-and-death battle between two sword immortals. Within a hundred li radius, countless sword lights, more than a hundred cultivators, couldn't escape in time. They were all strung together like candied hawthorn skewers by the sharp sword lights raised by both sides' flying swords. By the time the two sword lights dissipated, the innocent cultivators' souls had already been ground to shreds.
One of those two sword immortals had originally held a high position, the law-enforcing patriarch of a sect's immortal residence. But he was subsequently expelled from the sect's mountain genealogy, becoming a wandering wild cultivator who had to flee everywhere. That person was none other than the golden-armor continent sword immortal Si Tu Ji Yu, who was traveling in the Central Earth. Later, Si Tu Ji Yu simply went to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Nan Guangzhao continued his voice transmission: "Nen Daoren, we have no grievances or grudges. Why must we settle life or death? If we keep fighting like this, there's no benefit for either of us."
Nan Guangzhao could never have imagined that this yellow-robed old man, back in his homeland, had long been accustomed to settling victory and defeat by settling life and death. Nor could he imagine that Nen Daoren was fighting so ferociously only because he had been stifled and suffocated for too long, holding a belly full of anger.
Nen Daoren sneered, "Whining like a woman. I'll beat you half to death first, then go deal with that little brat in white."
Nen Daoren didn't really think he could completely kill this Flying Ascension cultivator in front of him. Just making him drop a realm would be about good enough.
As Master Li, his master's friend, said: "Leave a little leeway in all things, so you can meet again later."
By Nen Daoren's old fighting style, he wouldn't waste a single word. He'd kill, eat, and clean up, and that was that.
But after leaving the Savage Wasteland, on this journey, the food was delicious, the sleep was peaceful, and he often saw Li Huai flipping through some shabby martial arts novels. In those books, the famous masters who shook the martial world, or the righteous heroes of the white path, when sparring with others, they all talked a lot. According to Li Huai, that was so the bystanders wouldn't get too bored. If both sides just finished the fight in silence, it wouldn't be exciting enough, and there'd be fewer cheers. After hearing that, Nen Daoren thought it made a lot of sense.
Nan Guangzhao's face darkened. He stopped his voice transmission and laid down a harsh word: "Nen Daoren, don't be ungrateful!"
Nen Daoren was startled. Could it be that this guy in front of him was a hidden master?
For a moment, he was suspicious. But then he thought, to hell with it. An old turtle who wasn't even qualified to attend the Confucian Temple meetings—how strong could he be?
Did you think you were Dong San Geng, or Ah Liang?
That Ah Liang—once, just because he was bored, he casually swiped a passing sword cultivator with his claw, didn't even shatter his natal flying sword, just fooling around. After all, his Ten Thousand Mountains and the Sword Qi Great Wall had no conflict with each other. But Ah Liang chased him for several thousand li inside the Ten Thousand Mountains. In the end, even the Old Blind Man couldn't stand it anymore and intervened, and Ah Liang hit him with eighteen consecutive swords.
The woman from the Zhu Clan of Immortal Mist glanced at the green-robed sword immortal who was hovering in the wind. She withdrew her gaze and asked the handsome young gentleman from the Xie Clan of Dense Cloud, who was rapidly flipping through a poetry collection, "Xie Yuan, how old do you think this man is?"
Xie Yuan was busy seeking inspiration from his beloved poetry collection. Composing poetry required using other stones to polish jade. Interrupted in his poetic inspiration, he sighed, looked up, glanced at the yellow-robed old man in the distance, and said offhandedly, "At least a few thousand years old, I'd say."
The woman laughed in exasperation. "I'm not talking about him!"
Xie Yuan was stunned for a moment, then laughed heartily. "Ah, you mean that green-robed sword immortal who also cultivates lightning techniques? If I had to guess, at most a hundred years old. Similar to the 'Sword Immortal Xu' from the Golden Armor Continent—both are great sword Dao talents born in response to our Haoran world's destiny. But the one in front of us is younger."
The old sword cultivator Yu Yue rolled his eyes so hard it hurt, but he couldn't tell Xie Yuan the truth. The green-robed sword immortal in front of him was the Hidden Official that this little rascal Xie Yuan had been thinking about day and night, the same person that made Xie Yuan exclaim, "When I meet him, I need to bow three times."
The most powerful aristocratic families of the Haoran world, especially those that had cross-continent ferry ships going to the Inverted Mountain and traded with the Sword Qi Great Wall, more or less knew about the young Hidden Official who had once appeared in the Spring Bane Temple council hall. But their knowledge was very sketchy. The Sword Qi Great Wall was too strict about it. For example, the Xie Clan of Dense Cloud in the Aiai Continent could only get information through various mountain channels—especially because the Xie Clan and the Liu Clan had been friends for generations and maintained a constant marriage alliance. They learned that the last Hidden Official who succeeded Xiao Suen was very good at business, and also had a very imposing manner. The first time he appeared at the Inverted Mountain, he was accompanied by a large group of local and foreign sword immortals—over a dozen battle-hardened real sword immortals!
Li Baoping was originally a little worried that Li Huai might be caught up in that peak Dao battle. But unexpectedly, Li Huai, like it was nothing, stood steady in place, mumbling to himself.
This is bad. If he loses, it's one thing—at worst, he can drag Nen Daoren and slip away. If that doesn't work, Chen Ping'an is here, so he just needs to hide behind him, and everything will be fine.
But if he wins, not only will it be a backfire for Chen Ping'an, but Nen Daoren will make enemies on the mountain. And then he'll be targeted. In the martial world, you can be a thief for a thousand days, but you can't guard against a thief for a thousand days.
So Li Huai tentatively sent a voice transmission: "Old Brother Nen, can we concede? Otherwise, when I travel the world in the future, I'll have to be terrified every day, worrying about being ambushed."
Nen Daoren felt like he'd been struck by lightning. He steeled himself and pretended not to hear Master Li's hint.
This fight hasn't even warmed me up yet!
Nen Daoren's movements became even more vicious. He slashed out with thunderous force.
He forced that Flying Ascension cultivator to either kneel and kowtow—only a sincere concession would count—or go to his own small world for a thorough and satisfying fight.
Then Nen Daoren thought he'd been hit by another heavenly tribulation. Damn it, in his small world now, of course he could speak freely with Li Huai. But how could Li Huai ignore the countless restrictions of heaven and earth and talk to him?
The master was indeed the master.
Could it be some secret technique that Old Blind Man taught him? But Li Huai had clearly said he hadn't learned a single move or technique from Old Blind Man.
Li Huai, seeing that Nen Daoren hadn't heard his words, turned to Li Baoping and asked, "Baoping, what do we do?"
Li Baoping said, "This senior will stop. As for what happens after, you don't need to overthink it; the senior will handle it properly."
Li Huai grinned. That was a relief. He added a self-evident reason to himself: "Besides, Chen Ping'an is here. Why would I be afraid of trouble? Trouble should be afraid of me!"
Actually, many of Li Huai's thoughts had been different from ordinary people's since he was a child.
For example, back when Li Baoping hung his pants on a tree branch, Li Huai was wailing loudly. What worried him wasn't the shame, or whether Shi Chun Jia with her pigtails would laugh at him for a long time. It was that the new pants were really expensive. If he couldn't wear them home, his mother would be heartbroken. She might even pinch his arm. Going without pants wasn't a big deal—it was quite cool. But getting pinched on the arm really hurt! And even if his mother bought him a new pair later, there would definitely be no money left for chicken legs at home. His sister Li Liu already looked skinny enough, and she wasn't even pretty—how would she ever get married? So those pants hanging high on the tree absolutely could not be lost.
Another example: Old Man Yang threw a few yellowed books into his bulging bundle, so inconspicuous. The covers and first few pages seemed to have been torn off. Inside, there were many mountain techniques with many rules: don't learn this, don't do that, this technique harms the merits of heaven's Dao, that technique will be suppressed by the Great Dao... Learning my foot! So after picking and choosing, Li Huai only learned that voice transmission technique. It was good, with no picky rules, no taboos, and it was practical.
Old Man Yang left a letter for Li Huai, in which he explained some things.
For instance, he told Li Huai to go find an old gentleman somewhere in the future and casually learn a few talisman techniques from him. This man had traveled through the Pearl Bead Cave Heaven, stayed for many years, and often drank with his father. Having an extra skill doesn't weigh you down—having a trade at hand is always more stable than having a few extra silver coins...
It was like when the old folks at home chatter all the time—it's annoying. But when they finally stop chattering, you start to feel sad.
At this moment, Nan Guangzhao's mood was terrible. It was like how his junior Yun Miao felt about his own disciples—he thought this Yun Miao was nothing but a jinx and a troublemaker.
With Nen Daoren, reason was completely useless. Seeing that the guy's posture was that he wouldn't stop until he made him drop a realm, Nan Guangzhao had no choice but to use a last-resort secret technique. He directly offered up a small cave heaven that he had also thoroughly refined.
Nen Daoren laughed loudly, sheathed his long blade, and casually tossed it into his sleeve-like Qiankun space. "Finally showing a bit of Flying Ascension realm demeanor!"
Li Huai said urgently, "Be careful!"
Nen Daoren looked back at the young man in Confucian robes on the shore, stunned for a moment. This kid could actually genuinely care about the life or death of a watchdog? What for? He couldn't figure it out.
Nen Daoren shook his head. Since he couldn't figure it out, he wouldn't think about it. In this respect, he was quite similar to Li Huai. No wonder they got along so well, neither feeling awkward.
As the two Flying Ascension cultivators' figures vanished, Mandarin Duck Shoal instantly became clear and bright, and the sun reappeared.
Almost all the cultivators felt a huge relief, and most of the Qi Refiners, escorted by their masters, hastily flew away from the trouble spot of Mandarin Duck Shoal.
There had been two fights in a row: first a sword immortal and an immortal, then two Flying Ascension cultivators. Even watching was enough to fill their bellies.
Besides, who knew if Nan Guangzhao's small world would shatter on the spot?
The Immortal Yun Miao was certainly the heaviest-hearted cultivator.
He couldn't leave, and not far away was the green-robed sword immortal with his hands in his sleeves, smiling.
Nan Guangzhao, who had always been like half a protective talisman for the Nine True Immortal Lodge, now seemed useless. Who could have predicted a peak Flying Ascension cultivator would pop up to mess things up?
According to common sense, the strongest among Flying Ascension cultivators would all be at the Confucian Temple. A Flying Ascension like Nan Guangzhao, who was left cooling his heels by the Confucian Temple, should have been invincible.
But that Song Zi from Zhulu was now at the Confucian Temple attending a meeting. How was this going to end today?
Several great cultivators of the Central Earth, with extremely high realms, had chosen a cave heaven or blessed land on the mountain to cultivate in seclusion. In the silence of the mountains, they cultivated to attain longevity. But their combat skills did not match their realms.
Yun Miao, who had been secretly plotting all along, was full of confidence. In the depths of his heart, he actually looked down on a few old Flying Ascension cultivators whose souls were decayed and whose qi was stagnant. A thousand-year turtle and ten-thousand-year tortoise—they just lived a long time.
Although he had a flying sword restrained in his hand, Chen Ping'an seemed instead to be the one holding the lifeblood of Yun Miao's Dao.
Chen Ping'an suddenly remembered some words from his senior brother, Zuo You.
He had said that asking a sword question was a very simple thing—it was just one more sword stroke than your opponent.
For example, if you deliver a sword stroke and the opponent dies, the sword question is over. If you both exchange strokes, and the last stroke is delivered by you, then of course you win.
At that time, Chen Ping'an had just finished a "sword question."
His senior brother, from start to finish, hadn't moved an inch, while his junior brother was lying half dead on the city wall.
Chen Ping'an had the audacity to say, "Senior brother, easy for you to say."
Anyway, the sword practice was over, so his senior brother couldn't teach him another lesson. As for whether he would suffer next time—he'd worry about that later.
Zuo You hadn't gotten angry. He only said, "Practicing the sword, studying, interacting with people—in all things, you need to handle heavy matters with a light touch."
Chen Ping'an obediently lay still, not daring to push his luck. He asked a question he had long been curious about: "Senior brother, how did you practice the sword?"
In fact, this question had probably been on everyone's mind at the Sword Qi Great Wall—except maybe the Great Sword Immortal, who wasn't interested in it.
Zuo You said, "Before going to sea, I learned straight-line swordsmanship. After a few years at sea, I mastered curved line. Since the two sword technique lineages were already complete, by the time I came to the Sword Qi Great Wall, it was no longer 'learning the sword,' just 'sharpening the sword.'"
He paused briefly and added, "It was pretty boring. So I wanted to come here and take a look."
Chen Ping'an quickly sat up at that time and asked, "And then? Did senior brother learn a new sword technique lineage?"
Zuo You didn't give a direct answer, only said, "Originally, breaking through the realm wasn't hard. But when I came here, I found that no matter how many horizontals and verticals I had, it still didn't form a world. And because the curved line was still not perfect enough, combining with the Dao wasn't easy."
At that time, Chen Ping'an didn't quite understand what his senior brother was implying.
He only gathered one thing: his senior brother might have been close to breaking through at the Sword Qi Great Wall, but suddenly his vision had become higher, and the bottleneck to breaking through had become bigger than the sky.
It wasn't until Chen Ping'an met Pei Min, then Wu Shuangjiang, and especially today, when the Immortal Yun Miao had offered up the "Rain Pavilion" and "Furnace," with two swords fully charged, and the blade tips aimed at him, that Chen Ping'an instantly felt a chill down his spine, as if a sword edge was inches away, ready at any moment to cut through his dharma robe, his physical body, his soul—one sword to cut everything.
Then Chen Ping'an finally understood the true meaning of his senior brother Zuo You's words back then.
Simply put, once senior brother Zuo You combined with the Dao in the fourteenth realm, then wherever he stood—a world of several li or a hundred li in radius—there would be several, a dozen, or even a hundred Zuo You, all delivering their sword strokes at the same point in a single sword question.
That was probably the ultimate state that all sword cultivators sought.
All things are one sword thing.
This kind of realm from his senior brother was not something that could be learned.
Because it required the purest heart of a sword cultivator.
Chen Ping'an smiled and said to Yun Miao this Immortal, reminding him, "Both Nen Daoren and I are 'outsiders,' as Brother Qing Zhu put it. Ancestor Yun Miao might take this opportunity to rally allies, stir up a common hatred among the Central Earth cultivators against outsiders, and perhaps find a way out of this situation."
Yun Miao's skill in nourishing his qi was excellent—he treated it like a passing wind.
But if this green-robed sword immortal hadn't pointed it out, Yun Miao might have actually found a chance to do just that.
In Yun Miao's heart, his wariness of this man was growing more and more.
To have provoked a sword immortal for no reason was already extremely troublesome. If this sword immortal was also deep, calculating, and treacherous...
Would the Plum Teacher and Orchid Immortal of the Nine True Immortal Lodge, and especially those direct disciples of the ancestral hall, ever be able to go down the mountain for experience again? If every time the sect's cultivators went out—boarded a ferry or flew—they had to worry about catching a flying sword, even if the sword immortal didn't kill, only wounded, then wouldn't the Nine True Immortal Lodge essentially be sealing its mountain?
Yun Miao's heart lake once again heard the man's voice, which made his head ache.
"Earlier, on the shore of Mandarin Duck Shoal, I had the privilege of chatting briefly with the two great cultivators, Qin Zao and Yan Ge. But those two seniors were righteous and indignant, harshly rebuking me. The Nine True Immortal Lodge has such good relations with the mountain world that I almost regret making such a big fuss with Ancestor Yun Miao over a misunderstanding."
Yun Miao sneered coldly in his heart. Yan Ge, that big lackey? Righteous and indignant? He was probably trying to cozy up to you sword immortal! Qin Zao, on the other hand, loved watching a good spectacle and might be willing to lend a hand, but not because he truly wanted to help the Nine True Immortal Lodge out of trouble. He just wanted to fan the flames and stir up chaos. The bigger the mess, the better, since it wasn't his to clean up.
Yun Miao asked in a deep voice, "Who the hell are you? Why do you want to make an enemy of the Nine True Immortal Lodge unto death?!"
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Unto death? That's a bit much. As for me, I'm a wild cultivator by origin. What could I do in the Central Earth Divine Continent? What could I do when I came to Mandarin Duck Shoal? At most, I'm just fishing. If Brother Qing Zhu hadn't provoked me, how could I have built any connection with a big Central Earth sect like the Nine True Immortal Lodge?"
Yun Miao's heartstrings tightened.
Wild cultivator.
Where in the world did wild cultivators most yearn to go? Of course, that White Emperor City in the midst of the clouds.
So when this man mentioned "wild cultivator," Yun Miao naturally thought in that direction.
Chen Ping'an suddenly said, "Ancestor Yun Miao, do you think this is like water flooding the Dragon King Temple?"
Yun Miao's mind shook.
Could it be that this man's attack today was secretly instructed by that person? Was the White Emperor City using this opportunity to knock the Nine True Immortal Lodge into line?
Chen Ping'an, at the same time, was chatting idly with the old sword cultivator on the shore.
Because this chief guest official of the Xie Clan of Dense Cloud had just taken the initiative to ask him something that made Chen Ping'an want to laugh and cry.
"Hidden Official sir, my few direct disciples are all useless. The highest realm among them is only a decrepit old Nascent Soul, unfit for anything important. The others also can't carry the big loads. So... could you...?"
Seeing that the Hidden Official didn't reply, Yu Yue became anxious. No longer being subtle, he got straight to the point: "I will definitely pass on all my sword techniques with all my heart. I'll sell everything I have to help my disciples nurture their flying swords. If in the future I don't cultivate a sword immortal... sword cultivator in the upper five realms, then Hidden Official, just come to my door to hold me accountable!"
Yu Yue was truly covetous.
His old friend Pu He had stepped in dog shit. He had taken two sword immortal seedlings from the Sword Qi Great Wall as direct disciples: the boy Wild Crossing, the girl Snow Boat. The girl's talent for practicing the sword could be called stunning. The boy's talent was even better, especially his way of speaking... It was really something.
People of a kind flock together. Pu He was utterly taken with that boy disciple, more delighted than if he'd had a son in his old age.
Not only Pu He—word was that Song Pin from the Golden Armor Continent, Xie Zhi from Fuyao Continent, Xie Songhua from the Aiai Continent—all these Haoran sword immortals who had traveled far to the Sword Qi Great Wall had taken sword immortal seedlings from the Sword Qi Great Wall as direct disciples. And from what Pu He said, it seemed to be the Hidden Official's careful arrangement. So that was it! Old man Pu had gone to the Sword Qi Great Wall as a Jade Pu realm cultivator and got two disciples. He himself had also been there, as a Golden Core realm. So maybe he could get a half-off deal, and the Hidden Official would give him one disciple?
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "If you, senior, had spoken earlier, I could indeed have helped. But now that we're discussing this, it's a bit late. However, if you, senior, are willing to wait, you can wait until the fifth world opens its doors again. Then, when you travel to Ascension City, I can have someone start picking out candidates for you a few years early. If there's truly a Dao affinity between you, you can take the disciple away from Ascension City."
Yu Yue's heart ached. "That's going to be many years to wait."
Chen Ping'an thought of his own mountain. He actually had nine sword immortal seedlings, but most of them already had arrangements.
Then he thought of two children among them. After a little consideration, Chen Ping'an said, "If you, senior, have time, you could go to Luopo Mountain in Baoping Continent. Over at my mountain, there are two children who might be willing to follow you in learning the sword. I can only say 'might'; I dare not guarantee anything here. It still depends on your, senior's, affinity with them, and the two children's own wishes. Whether it works out or not, you can go to Luopo Mountain and try first."
Yu Yue was overjoyed. "Yes, why not? It would be a wonderful thing to travel to the Hidden Official's homeland, even if I don't end up taking a disciple."
Yu Yue suddenly asked again, "Hidden Official, could I ask for one more thing?"
He found it hard to bring up, but the opportunity was rare, so the old sword cultivator started being subtle again.
Chen Ping'an laughed. "If you, senior, are willing to be a patron or guest official—whether registered or unregistered—I have no problem with it at all. I, your junior, would welcome it. But as for payment in spirit coin, that's really not negotiable. My Luopo Mountain only just recently became a sect-level mountain gate; I don't have much money on me."
Yu Yue burst into laughter. "Then I'll just spend money and buy a guest official position from the Hidden Official! As for patron, forget it. It's not that I don't want to, but I don't have the face for it. Since I can't stay in Baoping Continent often, I'll be an unregistered guest official. If anything happens, I'll just send a flying sword message to the Xie Clan of Dense Cloud. From now on, I'll be hanging around there eating and drinking quite a bit, so you can count on me to come at any call. Hidden Official, rest assured—if I take this guest official position, it will absolutely be a bargain. Not many people in Baoping Continent know Yu Yue. If you need someone chopped, I'll chop them and run, leaving no trace at all. I guarantee I'll handle whatever Hidden Official asks of me cleanly and beautifully!"
Chen Ping'an smiled and said okay.
Yu Yue felt refreshed. Done deal. He'd become a guest official, and there was hope for a closed-door disciple.
Chen Ping'an glanced at that Xie Clan scion and remembered some things.
Two sword immortals from the Aiai Continent, Zhang Shao and Li Ding, had traveled together to the Sword Qi Great Wall and eventually went to a foreign land, never returning to their homeland.
Add Xie Songhua to that, and it was like flowers blooming outside the wall, fragrant beyond. All three sword immortals, male and female, without exception, seemed to have no good feelings for their homeland of Aiai Continent. They weren't willing to cultivate there, let alone establish a sect.
It seemed that the Aiai Continent could never keep its sword immortals.
So if an outside sword immortal was willing to put their name down in the Aiai Continent, that was a huge amount of spirit coin.
For example, Yu Yue had two patron and three guest official titles, not all in the Aiai Continent. He had some in the Central Earth Divine Continent and his homeland, the Liuxia Continent. Those were easy money.
Pu He looked down on him for it, and that was probably justified.
But old man Pu did speak too harshly sometimes. What was that? "Don't eat the hot food at home, go outside and eat shit?"
Liu the Money God had once taken the lead, helping the Aiai Continent privately discuss with the Fire Dragon Immortal about buying back the word "North" from the North Julu Continent. It wasn't that Liu Jubao had too much money and nowhere to spend it. It was a matter of sword Dao fortune.
Chen Ping'an was the first to look into the distance.
He even shifted his gaze before the Immortal Yun Miao and Qin Zao.
Ripples appeared on the sky. The yellow-robed old man strode out, holding a Flying Ascension cultivator by the neck, dragging him like a dead dog.
The yellow-robed old man casually tossed the barely breathing Nan Guangzhao into the river near Mandarin Duck Shoal and laughed loudly, "Lousy Dao techniques."
Yun Miao's eyelids twitched. He voluntarily released the five-colored ropes binding the flying sword and said via voice transmission, "What compensation do you want?"
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Since we might be half-family, how about you continue playing a charade with me?"
Yun Miao said, "I'm all ears."
Yun Miao was certain that this man had a deep connection with that person at White Emperor City.
It was just too similar.
Then the man suddenly changed his tune and said, "I've actually never met Lord Zheng. Ancestor Yun Miao must be mistaken."
Yun Miao's heart settled.
Not only did his speech resemble his, his actions did too.
And his spirit was even more alike!
Nen Daoren drifted down to the shore. During this time, he exchanged a glance with the old boatman he recognized from afar, and both saw admiration in each other's eyes.
From the Savage Wasteland, Tao Ting of the Savage Wasteland; from the Haoran world, Gu Qing Song.
Heroes on the same path, inevitably lonely on the road, so naturally they felt a mutual appreciation.
The commotion at Mandarin Duck Shoal was just too great. Originally, a pink-robed figure who had been idling in a courtyard in Pan River County felt this was a perfect opportunity from heaven. So Liu Chicheng didn't even bother to use any "viewing the mountains and rivers" technique—if his senior brother was here, wherever couldn't he go?
So he half-dragged, half-pulled Chai Bo Fu to come join the fun. From a distance, he saw Chen Ping'an. Liu Chicheng was originally quite cheerful. But then he saw, on the shore, a girl in red. Liu Chicheng quickly stopped flying. He exchanged a glance with the Dragon Bo junior brother, and both saw one word in each other's eyes: retreat!
Unexpectedly, Chen Ping'an had already greeted him with a smile: "Brother Liu, what a coincidence!"
Liu Chicheng patted Chai Bo Fu on the shoulder.
Chai Bo Fu nodded, tilted his head, and immediately fell heavily to the ground, fainting from severe injuries.
Liu Chicheng was caught off guard. "Better you die than me"? He didn't even help Chai Bo Fu. He let his Dragon Bo junior brother fall straight to the ground, his smile brilliant as he waved loudly, "Long time no see!"
Yun Miao looked at that eye-catching pink Daoist robe. Then he looked at the green-robed man who kept saying he had nothing to do with White Emperor City.
A sudden flash of insight hit Yun Miao. With extreme reverence, said to the sword immortal, "I pay my respects to Master Zheng."
Chen Ping'an said, "What are you talking about?"
No matter how bold he was, he wouldn't dare to impersonate the White Emperor City Lord right under Zheng Juzhong's nose.
Yun Miao's voice trembled. "Your junior understands."