Chapter 822: Lifting the Mountain
(One more chapter before dawn.)
Chen Ping'an, Zhu Lian, Pei Qian, Cui Dongshan, Zhou Mili, Zhou Fei, Mi Yu, Chang Ming, Chen Lingjun, Zhong Qiu, Sui Youbian, Hong Xia, Pei Xiang, Yu Daoxuan, Wei Jin, Ning Yao.
First Peak, Full Moon Peak, Qiuling Mountain, Water Dragon Peak, Cloud-Parting Peak, Fluttering Peak, Qiong Branch Peak, Rain Foot Peak, Big and Little Solitary Mountains, Cornus Peak, Green Mist Peak…
Luopo Mountain, one mountain, observing the ceremony of Zhengyang Mountain's many peaks.
This was a unique kind of ceremonial observation, never seen before in the history of Vase Bottle Continent. It was likely that for a thousand years thereafter, it would be difficult for anyone to imitate such an act.
Zhu Huang had long since given the order: all mirror flowers and water moons on the various peaks of Zhengyang Mountain had been shut down. Holding a jade token in hand, he personally presided over the grand formation of the ancestral mountain. That celestial being, who seemed to be a manifestation of the Way of the Zhengyang Sword, swept his gaze across the old and new peaks. Wherever his gaze fell, invisible sword qi shattered any mirror flowers and water moons employed by other cultivators to exhibit their divine powers. Zhu Huang had no choice in this matter—family scandals should not be aired in public, so today, he would cover up as much as possible.
The white-clad old ape stared fixedly at the sect master by the gate, his voice heavy as he said, "Say that again."
As expected of a first-rate villainous leader, Zhu Huang's expression was exceptionally calm. He smiled and said, "Since you didn't hear clearly, I'll say it again. Effective immediately, Yuan Zhenye's name will be removed from the ancestral hall registry of our Zhengyang Mountain."
The white-clad old ape clenched his fists, veins bulging on the backs of his hands, and sneered, "Zhu Huang, do you truly intend to act so perversely? At the first sign of a storm, you want to destroy the foundation of our mountain? Do you really think these two little worthless things can act with impunity here?"
Zhu Huang let out a faint, melancholic sigh. Weren't these two young men already acting with impunity?
Back then, when they descended the mountain, you, as the mountain's protector, served as an escort for Tao Zi of Qiuling Mountain when they went to the Lizhu Cave Heaven. Since you already made a move, why didn't you just kill those two youths outright? Why leave behind a disaster that would implicate Zhengyang Mountain? Now, both Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang have become sword immortals of extremely high killing power. And what about the quality of Liu Xianyang's lifetime natal flying sword? Even Xia Yuancui and the other two couldn't stop him. And as for Chen Ping'an, you, Yuan Zhenye, don't know—back in the ancestral hall, that young man sat down and drank tea, manipulated hearts and minds like a master. Today's sword challenge is certainly terrifying because of Liu Xianyang, but even more terrifying is this Chen Mountain Lord, who hides behind the scenes, watching everything with a smile!
A sect master and a mountain protector—two sides that should be united in facing a common enemy—had no words for each other, not even in their hearts.
The sword challenge over, Liu Xianyang sat behind a table, drinking wine and eating melon.
He had great admiration for Zhu Huang. Liu Xianyang felt that with this fellow's temperament and thick skin, he was truly born to be a sect master.
Earlier, at the Sword-Pausing Pavilion, Liu Xianyang had taken on three old sword immortals in a sword challenge, not only winning but even dragging Xia Yuancui to the Sword Summit. At that moment, Old Sword Immortal Xia was lying comfortably on the ground, basking in the sun, quite busy—feigning injury while quietly nursing his wounds, warming his sword intent, and probably racking his brain over what to do next, trying to salvage at least a little bit of face.
Old Ancestor Xia Yuancui had extricated himself from the situation, but Tao Yanbo and Yan Chu were both dejected, hurrying towards the Sword Summit in a panic.
Behind the two old sword immortals followed a large crowd of ceremonial guests. Because they had shown up early at the Sword-Pausing Pavilion, it seemed they had no choice but to see things through to the end, now solely hoping that the sword cultivator-filled Zhengyang Mountain could get through this crisis.
When he heard that Zhu Huang intended to remove Yuan Zhenye's name from the registry, Tao Yanbo was thunderstruck. Ignoring all decorum, he shouted at the sect master by name, "Zhu Huang, have you completely lost your mind?! There's a limit to speaking nonsense! Even if you are the sect master of Zhengyang Mountain, you have no right to act arbitrarily today and unilaterally expel a mountain protector!"
Zhu Huang's expression remained unchanged, but inside he was bitter. What's the point of talking about ancestral hall rules? If I'm not careful, the ancestral hall behind me might not even exist anymore.
Moreover, among the old and new peaks, only your Qiuling Mountain, Tao Yanbo, has a relationship with Protector Yuan that can't be disentangled. First Peak is still safe for now.
It's inevitable to suffer some injuries, but it's still better than replacing the sect master and having you all start over from scratch. Especially without me, Zhu Huang, sitting in charge of Zhengyang Mountain, it would never amount to anything.
When that figure in blue robes flew backwards out of First Peak and stood on his sword outside the mountain gate…
The ceremonial cultivators who had originally intended to support Zhengyang Mountain immediately stopped in their tracks. Who dared to go and meet with misfortune?
In the end, only Xu Hun stood alone, looking utterly solitary, as he flew through the wind towards the ancestral mountain, landing on the Sword Summit.
This calmed Tao Yanbo and Yan Chu a little. Today had been full of unexpected events and bad news, but at last, there was some good news.
Although Xu Hun had come, his expression was hard to conceal—extremely solemn. This act of ascending the mountain was a last-ditch effort.
Clear Breeze City and Zhengyang Mountain, two newly promoted sects on Vase Bottle Continent, were mutually supporting; they would flourish together or decline together. Moreover, Xu Hun carried the wart armor on his person, his legitimate son Xu Binxian was engaged to Tao Zi of Qiuling Mountain, and behind the scenes, certain instructions from the Yuan Clan all meant that Clear Breeze City could not hesitate or act as a fence-sitter at this critical moment.
Zhu Huang smiled at Tao Yanbo. "Then let's hold a meeting of the ancestral hall first. You only need to nod or shake your heads, and there will be a result."
Zhu Huang smiled. "Mountain Lord Chen, would you be willing to wait a moment? If a sword challenge later proves unavoidable, Zhengyang Mountain is willing to receive the sword."
At the foot of the mountain, Chen Ping'an clasped his hands behind his back, standing above his Night-Touring sword. The soles of his shoes were still a foot or so above the blade. He smiled and nodded. "Fine. I'll give you the time it takes to burn one stick of incense at most. After that, it's too late."
Then Zhu Huang immediately sent a flying sword message to all the sword immortals on the peaks, ordering all members of Zhengyang Mountain's ancestral hall, whether protectors or guest elders, to come to the Sword Summit at once. All direct disciples from every mountain and vein were to gather at the Sword-Pausing Pavilion without fail.
The groups of peak sword cultivators who had tried to block Liu Xianyang's ascent on the First Peak road had now either woken up on their own or been helped up by elders or fellow disciples. Upon receiving the sect master's order, they either went to the Sword Summit for the meeting or to the Sword-Pausing Pavilion to gather.
Beams of sword light in various colors rose from the peaks—snakes went their way, birds their own. Following the sword-flying rules established by the ancestral hall, high and low, they traced their trajectories and hurried to the ancestral mountain. Yet the sword cultivators no longer had their usual leisurely mood, for above their respective peaks, there were figures who were either sword immortals or grandmasters of martial arts, casting down overlooking gazes. They felt that at the slightest displeasure, a sword beam would shoot down, or a surge of fist intent like a rainbow would strike across the sky, knocking them to the ground, leaving them dead or alive unknown.
Among them, Wei Yueshan of White Heron Ford and Ni Yuerong of Cloud-Passing Tower flew cautiously towards First Peak. These two senior and junior disciples had never felt such deep fellow-disciple affection in their lives.
Leng Qi, the female ancestor of Qiong Branch Peak, was especially awkward. Mi Yu's sword qi was like a formation, covering the sky and blocking out the sun. She felt she simply couldn't break through those rosy cloud sword qis. And if she did strike with her sword, wouldn't that be tantamount to challenging the Great Sword Immortal Mi? The contents of the earlier flying sword message had already made her tremble with fear. Then the sword immortal Cao Jun had casually struck three times, cutting into three of Qiong Branch Peak's wind-and-water treasures, leaving them in ruins, with no trace of any immortal atmosphere left.
But she herself was a member of the ancestral hall, and the direct disciples of Qiong Branch Peak also needed to hurry to the Sword-Pausing Pavilion. If they remained on the mountain, would that be proper?
Mi Yu hesitated. Should he let that woman go to the meeting? If he let her go, he'd lose face. If he didn't, it seemed a bit unmanly, as if he were deliberately making things difficult for a woman. For a moment, he was in a dilemma, so he had to send a mental message to Chief Zhou, humbly seeking advice.
Jiang Shangzhen laughed mentally and suggested, "Vice-Chief Mi, what's so difficult about this? Why not open a small passage, just big enough for one person to pass through, less than a person's height. Let the girls from the mountain file out with their heads down, like birds leaving a branch. Wouldn't that be a landscape painting rarely seen?"
Mi Yu had a sudden realization. No wonder this man was the Chief—much better than himself, the Vice-Chief. He followed Zhou Fei's advice exactly, and the scene did indeed evoke pity.
At the same time, Mi Yu narrowed his eyes, scanning the ceremonial guests on Qiong Branch Peak and nearby peaks, watching for any cherishers of flowers and pityers of jade, anyone who might show anger and take up the cause of the Qiong Branch Peak fairies, thinking he was bullying them.
Tao Yanbo was frantic. This old sword immortal, who managed the mountain's treasury on Qiuling Mountain, had never expected that Zhu Huang would actually hold an ancestral hall meeting, and on top of that, was determined to hold it outside the hall. What kind of decorum was this? No rules, no standards, utterly disgraceful! Zhu Huang dared to act like this, truly a scoundrel who would throw away any face!
Tao Yanbo was grief-stricken and furious. He hated Zhu Huang's heartlessness today, and he hated the betrayal of the ceremonial guests who had come for the ceremony and then left without even drinking a cup of wine or setting foot on the mountain. Did they take Zhengyang Mountain for a latrine?!
But there were simply too many people for this Zhengyang Mountain god of wealth to hold grudges against. Tao Yanbo had to pick and choose whom to curse. But the powerful patrol envoy Cao Bing, the mountain lord Yue Qing who was a close neighbor to Zhengyang Mountain's branch sect, and the True Realm Sect's immortal realm sect master Liu Laocheng—Tao Yanbo didn't even dare to curse them in his heart, only dared to mutter a few resentful thoughts.
Cao Bing's presence at the ceremony was, to a large extent, equivalent to a congratulatory gesture from the Great Li Iron Cavalry border troops. Moreover, Cao Bing bore the surname of a pillar of state. If you asked who was most renowned in the whole of Vase Bottle Continent today, it wasn't Song Changjing, not the Great Li Emperor, not even any peak cultivator, but the two patriarchs of the Yuan and Cao clans. Because across the continent, from emperors and generals to nobles and officials, from the martial world to the marketplaces to rural villages, on the doors of every household hung colored portraits of these two civil and military door gods!
Even in the southern kingdoms that had broken away from Great Li's vassalage, the common people still habitually hung the door-god portraits of these two. The local courts and governments, even if they had some thoughts, dared not force the people to replace them with their own door gods of civil and military heroes.
The pillar that the Yuan Clan had fostered within the border army was not a Yuan Clan scion, but the Grand General Su Gaoshan, who through his brilliant military exploits had been promoted to Great Li's first patrol envoy. Unfortunately, Su Gaoshan died on the battlefield. But Cao Bing was still alive.
Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen and the Divine Edict Sect at most looked down on Zhengyang Mountain; it was unlikely they would truly make an issue of it.
But the True Realm Sect at Letter-Seal Lake and the Central Mountain Lord Jin Qing were definitely set to stand against Zhengyang Mountain.
This meant that Zhengyang Mountain's branch sect, located in the former Zhu Ying territory, would be extremely troubled, with obstacles and difficulties at every turn.
Compared to Tao Yanbo's burning anxiety, the nearby Law Elder Yan Chu's expression shifted between shade and sunlight. After much thought, despite his worries, a flash of insight struck him—a sudden turn in the dark. If the sky falls, let the tall ones bear it first—like Sect Master Zhu Huang, Senior Uncle Xia Yuancui, and Protector Yuan.
Furthermore, Qiuling Mountain's relationship with Luopo Mountain was abysmal; there was no chance of peaceful resolution today. But his own Water Dragon Peak had never had any feud with Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang, nor with Luopo Mountain and the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. Now that things had come to this, with danger at every turn, the final outcome was still uncertain. It felt as if the sect was on the verge of destruction. But no matter what, as long as the green hills remain, there will be wood for the fire. Was it possible that with careful planning, he could help his own Water Dragon Peak and the few mountain veins close to him turn misfortune into good fortune?
Liu Xianyang was actually not lightly injured, but not badly either. He shamelessly asked a relatively plain-looking female cultivator from the Flower Wood Workshop for a handkerchief, tore off a piece, and wrapped it around his head. Now he tilted his head back to stop his nosebleed.
The only strange thing was that Yan Chu and Tao Yanbo, both Nascent Soul cultivators, after he had dragged them into a dream and made a few cuts alongside a riverbank, had injuries far less severe than expected.
Liu Xianyang didn't bother to think more about it; he just assumed that these two old sword immortals from Zhengyang Mountain were not made of paper—they had some skill after all.
But had it not been for Chen Ping'an telling him to spare these two for later use, Liu Xianyang would have gone all out, and Tao Yanbo and Yan Chu wouldn't even be climbing the mountain for the meeting.
Before Chen Ping'an came down the mountain, he and Liu Xianyang had exchanged mental words. Liu Xianyang was genuinely curious—how had this kid managed to make Zhu Huang so agreeable?
"What kind of charm did you use on Zhu Huang to make him willing to expel that old beast from the registry on his own?"
"I gave him a choice between two options: only one of him and Yuan Zhenye could live. Zhu Huang believed me."
"From your tone, it sounds like he could have chosen not to believe?"
"Normal people wouldn't believe it. I'm not crazy enough to kill a proper sect master? At the very least, Patrol Envoy Cao over on the ferry boat wouldn't let that happen."
Liu Xianyang glanced at Zhu Huang then and felt that if this guy knew the truth, he'd probably jump up and curse.
"Even if Zhu Huang was ninety percent sure he could tell himself not to believe it, as long as it wasn't a hundred percent sure, he would rather sacrifice a protector. It sounds unreasonable, but actually it's nothing special. Because that's exactly why Zhu Huang could sit there and talk with me. So as long as he sat there today, even if it were someone else talking to me, they would inevitably make the same choice. Of course, this also has to do with your sword challenge and quick ascent, as well as too many ferry boats leaving the peaks. Otherwise, I'd be in the ancestral hall alone, spitting and talking until my lips wore out, and no amount of tea would help."
The two peak-master old sword immortals of Cloud-Parting Peak and Fluttering Peak had both arrived at Sword Summit.
Liu Xianyang's impression of these so-called pure sword cultivators from Cloud-Parting Peak and Fluttering Peak was also average—neither bad nor good.
Not bad, because they didn't hesitate to strike with their swords on the Vase Bottle Continent battlefield.
Not good, because as sword cultivators, they had never been to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
The cultivators of Vase Bottle Continent, originally among the most useless mountain immortals, had become the most qualified cultivators in the entire Haoran Heaven to stand tall. Now, the various schools of philosophers and Qi practitioners, as well as wild cultivators, rarely looked up to cultivators from other continents. But they most admired the sword cultivators of North Ju Continent, who traveled south with their swords, daring to kill and fight, ready to die at any moment. The number one of the North, Bai Shang; Li Cai of the Floating Lotus Sword Lake; Huang Tong, the law elder of the Taiwei Sword Sect; Pu Yang, the Bone Sword Immortal from Ghost Valley… Which of these wasn't a sword immortal whose sword light could cross rivers and mountains for a thousand li, brightening the night like day?
But the cultivators of Vase Bottle Continent, secluded in their corner, didn't really care about one thing: that the North Ju Continent they most admired, especially those sword cultivators, every one of them was domineering, afraid of neither heaven nor earth, daring to draw their swords on anyone. Yet they only admired one place, and that place was called the Sword Qi Great Wall.
And that place, the Sword Qi Great Wall, which withstood a whole world's worth of invasion for ten thousand years with just one region's sword cultivators—even those who had a bad impression of a certain person had to admit one thing: that person was fortunate to be on their side.
And that person was the friend who was challenging Zhengyang Mountain along with Liu Xianyang.
Liu Xianyang gnawed on some fruit.
Si Tu Wenying, you could have stayed one step longer and watched a little more.
Liu Xianyang reached up to adjust the handkerchief plugging his nose, then raised his hand and waved vigorously. He grinned and called out to a distant Upper Five Realm cultivator, "City Lord Xu of Clear Breeze City! This seems to be our first meeting. Hello there! I'm Liu Xianyang. I'm very familiar with your wife and son. Chen Ping'an has already told you about that family heirloom wart armor of ours, right? City Lord Xu can rest assured—that was my idea. Even if the price wasn't too fair, it's still a deal. I honored it back then, and I honor it today."
Xu Hun turned his head to look at this young sword immortal, whose injuries were impossible to gauge. He said nothing—he had nothing to discuss with Liu Xianyang.
Seeing him play deaf and dumb, Liu Xianyang thought, What's this? We're both Jade Marvel Realm cultivators. Just because you're not a sword cultivator, you can look down on me?
Liu Xianyang was getting annoyed. "Tsk, did Chen Ping'an forget to remind you not to climb the mountain today? Or do you think I'm too weak to wield my sword anymore here at the Sword Summit?"
In an instant, beside a river, Xu Hun quickly donned his wart armor and activated his natal magical art. Like a god, he stood on the earth. But in the blink of an eye, Xu Hun was horrified to discover that the landscape had changed. He found himself on an unknown battlefield. Looking up, he saw golden-armored gods all around, their legs as high as mountains as they trampled the earth. Each step made mountains seem like piles of dirt, carelessly split open. These ancient gods seemed to be charging in formation, making Xu Hun appear utterly insignificant. Just dodging their steps required all his concentration, his body darting about in a panic. He was once swept by the foot of a towering god. Unavoidable, Xu Hun found himself still standing in place, but his soul felt as if it were being dragged out and pulled away. The horrific tearing sensation, even with the wart armor, gave him a heart-wrenching pain and made it hard to breathe. This military cultivator, known for his immense killing power across the continent, was forced to use an unwilling earth-escape technique. With each subsequent tremor of the earth from the gods' footsteps, his spirit swayed as if he were being boiled and refined in a furnace…
Xu Hun knew his true enemy. Straining his divine abilities, he observed Liu Xianyang's movements. The other party made no effort to hide his traces. On the great earth, Liu Xianyang could be seen tiptoeing, casually stepping onto the shoulders of the passing gods, even their heads. The young sword immortal always had a smile on his face, as if looking down from a great height, watching a Xu Hun forced to hide beneath the earth.
Liu Xianyang laughed. "What a waste of that wart armor from our Liu family. If I were wearing it, I could roam around for at least a thousand more years."
Xu Hun was about to speak.
But Liu Xianyang snapped his fingers. The entire river of time seemed to freeze. The golden-armored gods either stood with both feet on the earth or one foot on the ground, the other raised. On the ground were the corpses of great demons, blood flowing like surging rivers. The weapons of the gods lay shattered and scattered, golden light stretching for thousands of li… In this frozen tableau of heavenly anomalies, Liu Xianyang's figure drifted down, lightly stomping his foot. "Xu Hun, how about we make a deal? We'll do it according to your Clear Breeze City's rules. Any objections?"
Xu Hun knew what this little bastard was saying. He was demanding Xu Hun hand over the wart armor, which had already been refined into a natal object!
Liu Xianyang smiled. "If you have objections, that's fine too. I don't have any Mountain-Moving Saints guarding my formation here, so I'll just have to take you through a few more ancient battlefield sites. We're old friends, so no thanks necessary. Uncle Liu is generous—he's got the word 'kindness' stamped right on his forehead."
An old debt that should have been settled was now reopened because you, Xu Hun, insisted on climbing the mountain. Did you think I, Liu Xianyang, was blind and couldn't see that wart armor?! There's no bullying an old mountain immortal quite like this.
Without another word, Liu Xianyang took Xu Hun through one ancient battlefield after another, going upstream, farther and farther. Then the city lord of Clear Breeze City saw a god who should have long since fallen, one of the twelve high-ranking deities.
That god hung high beyond the sky. Because the god was so immense, Xu Hun could see its entirety in one glance. Its golden eyes, full of divine purity, were majestic. Golden light shone forth, and its form was as large as a floating star.
The god merely moved its head slightly, and the great path's aura seemed to shift the stars. It furrowed its brows slightly, as if it had spotted an ant daring to scurry about in the river of time.
Just being suppressed by that far-off great path aura, Xu Hun's seven orifices began to bleed. Countless fine cracks appeared on his body and soul. Xu Hun could no longer care about anything. He cried out, "Liu Xianyang, save me!"
Liu Xianyang sat cross-legged at the edge of the sky and shook his head. "But you don't have a friend like Chen Ping'an by your side. Who's going to save you?"
Xu Hun's Dao heart was on the verge of collapse. Even if he faced an Immortal Realm cultivator, it wouldn't drive him to such despair. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Liu Xianyang, I'll give you back the wart armor!"
Unexpectedly, Liu Xianyang curled his lip. "Since I've already sold it to you, I never planned to buy it back."
Liu Xianyang rested his chin on his hand, watching from a distance as that high-ranking god, in charge of the thunder departments, struck Xu Hun with a fivefold thunderbolt, body and soul alike.
But of course, this injury Xu Hun suffered was like passing through a mysterious ten-thousand-year flow of time, greatly reduced—perhaps less than one-tenth remained? In any case, Liu Xianyang had been wandering through ancient dreams himself, stepping carefully. So far, he hadn't truly experienced the killing power of any high-ranking god. The most dangerous time was when an even higher god just gave him a casual glance, and Uncle Liu was forced out of the dream, lying obediently in bed for several months.
That old scholar Chen Chun'an, who carried the sun and moon on his shoulders, once chatted with Liu Xianyang on a cliff edge. At the time, Liu Xianyang didn't recognize him. The old man had casually remarked that the river of time was like a rope tied with countless dead knots. Countless ants walked on it, living and dying, in constant flux. Perhaps true freedom meant someone could leave that rope?
Back at the Sword Summit, several old sword immortals detected something strange. Then Xu Hun of Clear Breeze City seemed to burst open like a flower of blood. His figure staggered, falling backward to the ground. Then he struggled to his feet, glanced at Liu Xianyang, who still sat leisurely behind the table, and swayed unsteadily. Xu Hun simply flew away from the Sword Summit on the wind.
Xia Yuancui no longer dared to pretend to sleep. While everyone's attention was on Xu Hun, the old sword immortal executed a carp leap, landed lightly, and stood behind Yan Chu.
Law Elder Yan immediately moved two steps sideways, then one step back, standing shoulder to shoulder with Senior Uncle Xia.
Liu Xianyang muttered to himself, "I'm still kind-hearted."
Noticing a large number of gazes shifting towards him, Liu Xianyang slapped the table and shouted angrily, "What are you looking at? The Sword Summit path isn't level—City Lord Xu tripped and fell on his own. You all just watch the show, yet you blame me for not helping him up?!"
Liu Xianyang covered his face and nose, then quickly tilted his head back, adjusted the handkerchief to plug his nose, and buried his face in his melon, continuing to watch the excitement out of the corner of his eye.
That night, Liu Xianyang and his friend were each lying in a wicker chair. The guy next to him, hands tucked into his sleeves and folded over his belly, said that the two of them challenging swords would at most kill a few people—not very interesting. It might be more interesting to make the sword immortals of Zhengyang Mountain turn against each other, challenging each other, cutting each other's hearts to bloody shreds.
Don't worry, when it comes to hearts being struck by swords, that old beast will get the most.
Yuan Zhenye had served as Zhengyang Mountain's protector for a thousand years, diligent and meritorious, with contributions and hardships second to none. He moved mountains, shifted peaks, guarded the mountain for a thousand years, repelled wave after wave of enemies, both open and hidden. He also did all the dirty work in private. In the end, in front of a crowd, at a celebration where he should have been at his most glorious, he ended up abandoned by all.
At that time, Liu Xianyang turned sideways and asked curiously, "Do you hate Yuan Zhenye that much?"
Actually, logically speaking, Chen Ping'an did hold grudges, but he wouldn't go so far as to plan everything so meticulously, scheming against a mere Jade Marvel protector.
Chen Ping'an was silent for a moment, then shook his head, then nodded. Then he smiled brightly, giving Liu Xianyang an answer that was both unexpected yet reasonable—exactly the kind of words Chen Ping'an would say and do.
"It almost killed you back then. So from the very first day I started learning boxing, I've been holding a grudge. I swear I'll make that beast die in both body and soul!"
One wave hadn't yet subsided when another arose.
The clan head of the Xu family of Clear Breeze City, a proper Jade Marvel Realm military cultivator who was both offensive and defensive, had apparently been injured just by Liu Xianyang looking at him. He had come with heroic spirit and grand determination, only to leave wounded and dejected.
Thus, inside and outside Zhengyang Mountain, there was a unanimous thought.
Who the hell compiled the list of Vase Bottle Continent's top ten young talents and the ten reserves? Where were their eyes? How could they have left out someone like Liu Xianyang?!
And the "blind compiler," "Tian Wan" of Cornus Peak, was currently in a residence on Water Dragon Peak, one foot on a bench, gnawing on the remaining half-plate of wine-drenched crab. Standing beside her was a nearly insane Dragon Gate Realm cultivator. As a favored disciple of Law Elder Yan Chu, he managed an important role in the mountain's intelligence network. He racked his brains but couldn't understand what was going on with this female ancestor today—first she called him "Brother Genius," then praised him as "a brilliant talent unmatched in a thousand years," and then started spouting nonsense, saying, "Brother Liu, it's not my fault you didn't make the list. Don't worry, when I see Brother Liu, I'll slap myself seventeen or eighteen times as an apology."
Liu Xianyang hadn't been selected among the top ten young talents. On the surface, it seemed he was at a disadvantage due to age. Actually, it was Tian Wan's deliberate doing. The selected candidates were at most forty years old; Liu Xianyang had happened to be forty-one that year.
Senior Brother Zouzi had been behind the scenes, selecting the top ten young talents and the ten reserves for several worlds.
Junior Sister Tian Wan had followed suit, deliberately choosing the time when Liu Xianyang turned forty-one to compile those two sinister lists for Zhengyang Mountain.
The cultivator in charge of Zhengyang Mountain's intelligence asked in a trembling voice, "Ancestor Tian, have you come here today to discuss something with this junior?"
In the past, he had always called her Tian Wan directly by name. But today, Tian Wan was like a madwoman. He was panicking.
Tian Wan glanced at him sideways. Her voice was the same, but her eyes and expression were not. "Brother Genius, you don't even deign to drink and eat crab with me at the same table? Look down on me? Believe me, I'll run out with my clothes in disarray and shout that you were lusting after me, drunken and disorderly, and that you molested me!"
That Dragon Gate Realm cultivator had no choice but to sit down trembling. For the first time, he poured a cup of wine for Tian Wan and cautiously reminded her, "Ancestor Tian, the sect master has ordered that we need to go to First Peak."
Then Tian Wan suddenly raised a pinky finger, her eyes full of seduction, "What's the hurry? Let's drink first before leaving."
It disgusted him to the core.
At the gate of First Peak, the blue-robed sword immortal who had said he would wait the time it takes to burn one stick of incense looked around and smiled. "Within the rules, do as you please."
Mi Yu glanced down at Qiong Branch Peak below. The women left on the mountain all looked up at him, their eyes as moist as autumn water.
Mi Yu was quite annoyed. Did they all think he was an old bachelor who didn't care what he got? Hadn't they heard that back home, at least half of his bad reputation was due to the jealousy of those young and old bachelors?
Old sword cultivator Yu Yue was overjoyed, rubbing his hands together.
After Liu Yu left Qiong Branch Peak, she didn't follow her master directly to the ancestral mountain's Sword-Pausing Pavilion. Instead, she descended sharply, landing at the gate of First Peak. She went to support Yu Lin, who was weakly waking up, his aura feeble. Sweating profusely, she asked in a trembling voice, "Mountain Lord Chen, can we leave?"
Chen Ping'an nodded and laughed. "Of course."
Yu Lin and Liu Yu actually had nothing to do with this sword challenge. They had just been pushed forward by Zhu Huang and these old sword immortals to deliberately disgust Liu Xianyang and the Dragon Spring Sword Sect.
Liu Yu's character wasn't bad, but this Yu Lin was another story. He and Zhengyang Mountain were indeed a good match; it was fitting that he had been cultivating here from the start.
Chen Ping'an said to this young peak master of Rain Foot Peak via mental voice, "You can't even act convincingly. No wonder you were kicked out of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. From now on, here at Zhengyang Mountain, keep at it. Imitate the example. First practice until you reach the Nascent Soul realm, learn to strike like Tao the Money God and Yan the Law Elder, then practice until you reach the Jade Marvel realm, and you can imitate Old Ancestor Xia."
Yu Lin's lips trembled, his face ashen.
Before today, even though he had suffered a great humiliation at the Dragon Spring Sword Sect, after arriving at Zhengyang Mountain, he was still a top-tier darling of heaven. He had even broken through to the Golden Core realm, becoming a forty-year-old young sword immortal. He had already opened the Rain Foot Peak and could accept direct disciples. The lineage of sword cultivators on Rain Foot Peak could now branch out, full of hope. One day, he would challenge the Dragon Spring Sword Sect, challenge Divine Show Mountain!
Chen Ping'an turned his head and smiled. "Aren't you leaving yet? When you go, remember to act out the part to the end. If you're lively and vigorous, clearly having the strength to challenge but not daring to, your reputation will be ruined. Soon enough, even this Zhengyang Mountain won't want you."
For the various cultivators of Vase Bottle Continent who weren't involved, today was already enough to fill their bellies just from watching the excitement. They were almost too full.
First, the Wind Thunder Garden's Garden Master Huang He appeared at White Heron Ford, delivering a sword strike from afar. The sword light scattered, falling on all the peaks at once, like pulling back the curtain for outsiders to observe Zhengyang Mountain. It was an excellent start to today's ceremony.
If they had only seen that landscape painting, it would have been worth the trip. Even the wild cultivators who couldn't get a seat at First Peak hadn't wasted their journey to Zhengyang Mountain's territory.
At the feast, the immortal wine was wine; the market liquor was also wine. Different prices—one cost immortal money, the other bought plenty of excitement.
Then came Liu Xianyang, the direct-line sword cultivator of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. At the ancestral mountain's gate, he engaged in one sword challenge after another, full of surprises, leaving onlookers dazzled and exhilarated. Liu Yu of Qiong Branch Peak, Yu Lin of Rain Foot Peak, the female specter of Full Moon Peak—each took a sword strike but none stopped Liu Xianyang's ascent. Moreover, the two sword formations of Cloud-Parting Peak and Fluttering Peak were like paper, crumbling under Liu Xianyang's challenge. Then the groups of sword cultivators from Qiuling Mountain and Water Dragon Peak suffered heavy casualties—some fell in realm, some broke their swords, and one Dragon Gate Realm sword cultivator's corpse was tossed behind him at the foot of the mountain.
And no one had expected this young sword immortal, previously unknown on Vase Bottle Continent, not only to successfully climb the mountain unchallenged but also to have the three old sword immortals guarding the Sword-Pausing Pavilion fail to stop him from reaching the summit. Even Xia Yuancui, the respected old sword immortal of Full Moon Peak, ended up in the same situation as Yu Lin, dragged by Liu Xianyang to the Sword Summit.
During all this, as if in response to the sword challenges, one immortal ferry boat after another, one peak cultivator after another, either openly or stealthily, left Zhengyang Mountain's territory one after another.
Was there ever such a ceremony in the world?
One pure martial artist after another, one sword immortal after another, hovered in the high sky, each standing over a different peak.
Wasn't this clearly a scene of moving mountains? What Luopo Mountain was moving today was Zhengyang Mountain itself.
As for the blue-robed sword immortal, the master of Luopo Mountain, now at the mountain gate, how would he deliver his sword challenge?
Unimaginable.
With Liu Xianyang's series of sword challenges fresh in mind, the spectators on the peaks felt that any greater surprise was unlikely.
After Liu Yu and Yu Lin left.
Chen Ping'an looked up at the Sword Summit, where the ancestral hall meeting was taking place, and considerately reminded them, "Half the incense stick's time is up."
As he spoke.
Above the Sword Summit, a single, pure, and refined dot of sword light appeared.
Even Wei Jin looked up, focusing attentively at that dot of sword light, as if he found it quite unexpected.
That initial mustard-seed-sized dot of sword light instantly stretched out into bright, majestic streaks of sword light. Each one was a straight line, spreading out rapidly in all directions.
Then each sword line stopped simultaneously. There were ten white straight lines in total, barely visible. Where it stopped, it condensed into tiny calligraphy characters: Jia, Yi, Bing… Ren, Gui—ten fine small characters formed by sword qi. They were golden and dazzling, brilliant and eye-catching.
These ten golden characters, dense with sword intent, began to rotate slowly. The ten long sword-light lines turned with them, casting thin shadows over First Peak of Zhengyang Mountain.
Then came a second burst of sword light shooting outward. This time, it was the sword path evolution of the twelve earthly branches, splitting into twelve sword-light trajectories, each with its own character. Controlling the sword-light lines, each a bit shorter by a few zhang than the heavenly stems, they began an orderly rotation. This cast twelve more negligible but utterly breathtaking "cool shades" over First Peak.
Immediately after, the seed-sized sword light at the center split into twenty-four straight sword-light lines blooming outward. At the tips of these sword lights, golden characters representing the twenty-four solar terms abruptly stopped. Moreover, unlike the pure straight lines of the heavenly stems and earthly branches, when these characters appeared, a sword path that seemed to reach a state of heavenly connection manifested twenty-four different seasonal scenes of the year.
After that, twenty-eight more sword lines rose, like the twenty-eight constellations, arrayed as stars revolving in the sky, eventually forming a circular river of stars.
Then thirty-six peaks manifested, born like a mirage, standing in the territories carved out by the swords in the sky.
Then came the sixty-year cycle of the heavenly stems and earthly branches, like some strange bookkeeper arranging the years of the vast ages of heaven and earth.
There were still seventy-two sword lines, as if copied from the rivers of three continents, then forced straight by immortals using great divine powers.
After that came one hundred and eight shortest sword lines, eventually connected into circles by golden characters at their tips, like one hundred and eight precious pearls.
Rings of sword light, layer upon layer, densely packed, sword qi ascending to the heavens, covering the sun, sword intent vast and orderly.
One man challenging with his sword, arrayed in the sky.
Thus, the entire ancestral mountain of Zhengyang Mountain, all the cultivators at Sword Summit and Sword-Pausing Pavilion, were cast into the shadows of the sword light.
When it came to creating one's own boxing techniques, compared to the boxing questions at the Merit Forest, where Cao Ci, who claimed his new boxing techniques were "less than thirty," was somewhat inferior.
But I am a sword cultivator. Cao Ci, are you capable of creating a sword technique? Try that.
Chen Ping'an thought about it—that was too shameless. He couldn't make such a comparison with his friend Cao Ci.
Suddenly, he moved sideways. His blue robes drifted down to the ground. Chen Ping'an raised his arm, two fingers together, and gently touched the white jade hairpin in his topknot.
Up at Sword Summit, the meeting had actually begun. The matter under discussion was simple: each person expressed their opinion. A nod meant agree to remove Yuan Zhenye's name from Zhengyang Mountain's gold-and-jade registry; a shake meant refuse.
But some of the old ancestors were hesitating, not being straightforward.
Chen Ping'an took a step back, reaching out to grasp the hilt of Night-Touring.
He only learned afterward that Qi the Master had once said to that mountain-moving ape that if he had left Lizhu Cave Heaven when he was young, he would have trampled Zhengyang Mountain underfoot.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, his body slightly stooped. This made things much easier instead. He murmured, "Shall we take a walk?"
Holding Night-Touring, he swept his sword in a single horizontal cut. Sword light bloomed, slicing horizontally across Zhengyang Mountain's foot, directly severing the mountain root of one of its ancestral mountains.
Not only that, but Chen Ping'an, his right hand holding the sword with the tip pointing at the mountain gate, tapped the sword guard with his left hand.
The entire First Peak was lifted, rising several zhang off the ground!
Then the sword formation in the sky shrank slightly in scale, and before anyone could react, it crashed down with lightning speed, completely smashing the ancestral hall atop Sword Summit. Dust flew everywhere, a shocking spectacle.
You all go ahead and continue your meeting.
I'll first split a peak, then lift a mountain, and tear down your ancestral hall.