Chapter 824: Spirit Man in the Heavens, Sword Light Falling Straight Down
The Suspended Sword Formation crashed to the ground, shattered the Ancestral Hall, and sword essence ripples scattered in all directions. On the entire First Line Peak, winds surged and clouds churned. Especially at the Sword Resting Pavilion, where ancient trees reached the heavens, the sword essence agitated the leaves, causing countless fallen leaves to drift and sway, gently landing on the ground. A large group of Zhengyang Mountain's direct disciples seemed to have stepped prematurely into an autumn of turmoil, their eyes filled with nothing but sorrow.
This time, no one thought that the young sword immortal from Luo Mountain was speaking the madman's delirious ravings.
Behind the Sword Resting Pavilion stood a tung tree planted personally by Zhengyang Mountain's founding patriarch over two thousand years ago. It had grown unharmed through the ages, its trunk soaring into the clouds, which was why so many leaves fell today.
At the Sword Summit, the sect master Zhu Huang and that sword formation immortal from the Sword Summit only protected the spirit tablets, incense burner, and portraits of successive patriarchs within the Ancestral Hall. Everything else—the painstakingly crafted and generationally inherited seats, the priceless immortal wood beams and pillars, the floor tiles whose craftsmanship surpassed even that of the imperial palace—all seemed to have become fleeting clouds and smoke, scattering with the dust.
This outdoor council, which violated ancestral precedents and established rules, had only two absentees: Tian Wan of Dogwood Peak and Zhu Huang's closed-door disciple Wu Tijin. Even Yu Lin of Rain Foot Peak had arrived on his flying sword. Earlier, Zhu Huang had proposed to expel Yuan Zhenye from the register, then immediately added, "I, Zhu Huang, as the eighth mountain master of Zhengyang Mountain, the first sect master after it became a sect, and a Jade Pure realm sword immortal, agree to this matter. Afterwards, all of you need only nod or shake your heads. In today's council, no one needs to speak."
Thereupon, Xia Yuancui of Full Moon Peak was the first to second the motion. The disciplinary patriarch Yan Chu hesitated for a long time, ignoring the heartfelt persuasion of Tao Yanbo of Autumn Order Peak, and eventually nodded in agreement. Those mountain peaks and sword veins close to Full Moon Peak and Water Dragon Peak—such as Leng Qi of Qiongzhi Peak included—had no choice but to follow these high-ranking and powerful senior patriarchs in drawing a clear line with the white-clad old ape.
As for Zhengyang Mountain's more than a dozen patrons and guest elders, once Zhu Huang, Xia Yuancui, and Yan Chu had stated their positions, they all nodded one after another. Sacrificing Yuan Zhenye today was far better than personally entering the fray and fighting Luo Mountain, risking damage to their fundamental paths. Who would compensate them then? Just consider the earlier Suspended Sword Formation that manifested the Great Way from a single golden speck of light—it was far too imposing. Even the mere shadows of its sword light falling across the mountains made them feel as if needles were pricking their backs. Each of them weighed the matter: if those sword lights were to cut into their physical bodies, it would be like slicing tofu.
If Zhu Huang had not taken this stance and had instead been willing to rally support, they would not have minded adding luster to the proceedings. As patrons and guest elders, it was their duty to help First Line Peak unleash a few top-tier immortal techniques. But since Zhu Huang had taken this attitude, no one was foolish enough to act rashly, staking their lives, property, and future on the Great Way to send charcoal in the snow for Zhengyang Mountain.
On the contrary, several old peaks including Cloud Dispelling Peak and Fluttering Peak—their peak masters and sword immortals—all shook their heads, vetoing the sect master Zhu Huang's proposal.
One old Golden Core cultivator even directly cursed Zhu Huang's action as a muddleheaded act that would ruin a thousand years of heritage, betraying his conscience, devoid of any righteousness, and would only bring shame to Zhengyang Mountain's successive patriarchs. Instead of taking the lead to draw his sword and repel the enemy when outsiders attacked the mountain, Zhu Huang would rather be led by the nose, abandoning a hardworking and meritorious mountain-protecting elder. "You, Zhu Huang, are not even fit to be a sword immortal, let alone serve as mountain master. So what truly needs to be discussed today is not whether Yuan Zhenye's name should be erased from the register, but whether you, Zhu Huang, can continue as sect master—"
Zhu Huang said with a smile, "As I said earlier, you need only nod or shake your heads. No need to speak."
The result was that the old Golden Core cultivator was directly apprehended by that sword formation immortal, who reached out and grabbed him, stuffing him into his Sleeve Cosmos.
Liu Xianyang shifted his seat, switching to another table, and continued drinking wine and eating melon.
A female patriarch turned her head to glare at Liu Xianyang, her eyes blazing with anger. "Liu Xianyang, if you and Chen Ping'an want to challenge the mountain with swords, why must you go to such great lengths, scheming in the shadows, gathering friends and allies, racking your brains to scheme against our Zhengyang Mountain? If you truly have skill, learn from He Yuan of Wind and Thunder Garden—fight your way from Egret Ferry all the way to the Sword Summit. That is the conduct of a sword immortal!"
Instead of fighting fire with fire, Liu Xianyang nodded vigorously like a chick pecking at rice. "Right, right, right, ma'am of advanced age, you're older, so everything you say is correct. Next time if there's a chance, I'll definitely drag Chen Ping'an along to challenge the mountain like that."
When it came to quarreling, the hometown town was a hidden dragon and crouching tiger, a place full of masters. Among the younger generation, aside from the wealthy children of Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Alley, such as Zhao Yao and Xie Ling—who might be slightly less skilled—everyone else had been steeped in such things since childhood. In every small alley, by the Dragon Locking Well, under the old locust tree, among the ridges of the Dragon Kiln, across the street and through the walls—everywhere was a training ground for sharpening one's verbal skills.
That female patriarch, wearing a golden silk crown and an emerald green dharma robe, was indeed infuriated by Liu Xianyang's reckless and incorrigible words, her body trembling uncontrollably.
The white-clad old ape stepped forward, his expression indifferent. "There's still half an incense stick left. Continue your chat. I'll go deal with that muddy-legged upstart who gets cocky at the first sign of success."
Liu Xianyang raised his wine cup in one hand and gave a thumbs-up with the other. "Patriarch Yuan is invincible across the continent. He once exchanged blows with Song Changjing, kicked at Piyun Mountain, crushed countless ancestral houses. The Cao ancestral house in Mud Bottle Alley, the Yuan family's in Erlang Alley, the Li family's at the far west end, the Xie family's in Peach Leaf Alley—unbeatable against all. Who dares to settle accounts with the Mountain Moving Patriarch after the autumn harvest? Now that he has broken through a realm, dealing with Chen Ping'an is no more than a piece of cake."
Upon hearing this, the patriarchs of Zhengyang Mountain's various peaks, as well as the patrons and guest elders, were all shocked.
Exactly how many forces had this mountain-protecting elder provoked during his travels in the Pearl Grotto-Heaven back then? No wonder that Cao Jun, who claimed his ancestral home was in Mud Bottle Alley, had successively challenged Qiongzhi Peak and Backsword Peak with his sword. And what about that Dali Patrol Envoy Cao Ping? The ancestors of the Cao and Yuan clans had come from the Pearl Grotto-Heaven, one civil and one martial, complementing each other perfectly, helping the Dali Song Clan rise in the north and establish a foothold, preventing them from being annexed by the Lu Dynasty, and ultimately giving rise to today's Dali Iron Cavalry dominating the Haoran world. That was a fact known across the continent.
Zhu Huang smiled. "Sword Immortal Liu, please don't jest."
Those few remarks of Liu Xianyang were, of course, complete nonsense. But at this moment, everyone was already suspicious and fearful. A few words could be like adding fuel to the fire, snow on top of frost. Zhengyang Mountain could not withstand such turmoil.
Behind the mountain-protecting elder Yuan Zhenye, a Dharma form of an old ape emerged. With a heavy stomp of his foot, he landed between the Sword Summit and the Sword Resting Pavilion, simultaneously activating his lifebound divine ability of mountain moving, pressing First Line Peak down. With a thunderous crash, the peak settled onto the ground, and the feng shui and qi of the surrounding mountains immediately stabilized.
Earlier, that little bastard from Mud Bottle Alley had actually dared to cut open the ancestral mountain, then lift First Line Peak with a single sword, raising the ancestral mountain several zhang off the ground.
This act of stepping on a mountain to root it in place was a display of power that made many of the guest elders and patrons uneasy. Was it possible that following Zhu Huang's lead might cause them to bet on the wrong horse? No matter how Zhu Huang might mediate and salvage the situation later, at the very least, they would have forged a real enmity with Yuan Zhenye.
The white-clad old ape retracted his Dharma form behind him. His entire body's true qi surged like a great river in flood, his wide sleeves billowing with a cracking sound. He grinned fiercely. "The upstart has gained fame—die beneath my fists!"
Yuan Zhenye leaped into the air, rising high. Beneath his feet, the mountain trembled. His burly form turned into a white rainbow, twisting at high altitude before plunging in a straight line straight toward the mountain gate.
Liu Xianyang stood up, adjusted his nose, and carrying a flask of wine, walked to the cliff's edge of the Sword Summit. He squatted on a white jade railing, drinking wine while watching the battle.
A thick and unparalleled fist force, like an immortal flying sword, illuminated heaven and earth with a blinding white light. It struck the spot where the green-clad figure stood outside the mountain gate, creating a huge sunken pit like a lake.
At the Sword Resting Pavilion, the direct disciples of Zhengyang Mountain's various peaks craned their necks, eagerly watching. When they saw Patriarch Yuan deliver that punch, each of them was dazzled and shaken. Some young sword immortals clenched their fists in silent applause.
Many of the guest observers were seeing Yuan Zhenye's actual combat prowess for the first time.
What a mountain-protecting elder—truly worthy of his reputation. That punch of Yuan Zhenye's was heavy and forceful, clearly capable of killing a Nascent Soul cultivator.
Perhaps even a Far Traveling realm martial artist with a sturdy physique, if hit by that punch, would be instantly dismembered, flesh and blood exploding.
But above that "lake" of dry land outside the mountain gate, the green-clad figure remained motionless, suspended in midair, a smile on his face. One hand behind his back, the other gently waving to disperse the surrounding dust.
The white-clad old ape landed at the mountain gate, turned his head to glance at the long sword embedded in the plaque of the memorial archway, then withdrew his gaze. He stared at the green-clad sword immortal, who had walked step by step to today relying on luck. "Do you need me to leave your body intact? Otherwise, these useless trash from Luo Mountain won't be able to stop me in time, making it hard to collect your corpse later."
Chen Ping'an said nothing. He simply crooked his finger at the white-clad old ape, then tilted his head slightly, forming two fingers together and tapping his neck, signaling Yuan Zhenye to strike him there.
Yuan Zhenye's eyes narrowed. With a bang beneath his feet, the earth rumbled and shook. The deep mountain roots beneath First Line Peak quivered with residual motion, causing the surrounding heaven and earth's spiritual energy to ripple and sway. If the confrontation between the two sides were a landscape painting, then at that moment, all the mountain observers using the art of Viewing the Mountains and Rivers would see a tremor in that section of the painting. The white-clad old ape vanished in a flash. The next moment, the green-clad figure was viciously swept by a punch to the neck, instantly sent flying dozens of zhang horizontally.
Chen Ping'an gently flicked his wrist, his figure halting abruptly. He shook his neck, his eyes full of laughter, as if to say: Let you try, no need to hold back, don't be polite with me.
Even though sword immortals were uniquely blessed—able to temper their flying swords while simultaneously nourishing their spirit and physique—making sword refining and body forging both efficient and twice the result with half the effort—enabling them to be among the four troublesome types on the mountain—they could break all laws with a single sword and possess bodies comparable to martial cultivators and pure martial artists. Yet even that green-clad sword immortal from Luo Mountain, along with his good friend Liu Xianyang, were both already in the Jade Pure realm. Could a Jade Pure realm sword immortal truly forge his personal microcosm into a body as solid as a city, so indestructible?
Only now did some of the observing cultivators who knew the identity of "Zheng Qian" begin to believe that she might truly be the young mountain master's first disciple.
And that white-clad old ape truly exuded the bearing of a peak master. Each time he delivered a punch, he did not press the advantage. He stopped after each strike, as if deliberately giving the green-clad opponent room to catch his breath and rest.
This mountain-protecting elder of the Upper Five Realm, bearing great fortune, was undeniably a cultivator, yet he had always made his name through physical combat across Bottleneck Continent.
The white-clad old ape's expression darkened. "Bastard cub, you really won't fight back?!"
The green-clad figure, who currently bore no sword on his back, remained silent throughout.
Yuan Zhenye laughed scornfully. He opened an ancient-looking fist stance, bending his knees slightly, lowering his head as if bearing a mountain on his back. As soon as the stance was assumed, an extraordinary phenomenon occurred: he seemed to devour the spiritual qi of heaven and earth. The inherently conflicting spiritual qi and pure true qi actually harmonized, entirely transforming into a mighty fist intent. Not only that, but after the stance fully opened, his fist intent behind him coalesced into a Dharma form like a mountain cultivator's path realization—a series of towering mountains. At his feet, his fist force surged like a rushing river, echoing the Daoist true man's step-pacing and star-treading, laying out a spirited immortal pattern. Ultimately, the white-clad old ape trod upon a brand new True Form Diagram of the Five Sacred Mountains of Bottleneck Continent, delivering his punch like an ancient immortal lifting a giant mountain while treading on rivers.
He refined the divine abilities of the mountain moving lineage and forged his fist intent into a furnace of mountains and rivers.
Chen Ping'an glanced at that half-baked True Form Diagram. It seemed that this mountain-protecting elder had not been idle over the years and had actually come up with some new tricks.
A guest observer from Green Mist Peak sighed in admiration. "Such fist technique can be said to have reached the pinnacle, beyond the power of a mere martial master."
Pei Qian shot a sidelong glance at that person, barely restraining herself from doing what she did to the Left Guardian of Qilong Alley—pressing the dog's head down and making him open his dog eyes wide to see what real fist technique was when her master displayed it.
Everyone saw that burly old ape, with the momentum of separating heaven and earth, smash his fist down at the young sword immortal's head.
In the blink of an eye, the white-clad old ape stood where the green-clad figure had been.
And that young mountain master still did not fight back, letting that punch hit him right on the forehead.
Had the old ape's punch been launched in such a way that dodging was impossible?
From the "lake" on First Line Peak to the lush green Full Moon Peak, a streak of green was pulled in an instant, stretching into a long line.
Almost everyone instinctively turned their gaze toward Full Moon Peak. The green-clad figure hovered in the air, but behind him, the entire base of Full Moon Peak was buffeted by gusts of wind, sweeping across the peak. Countless immortal trees snapped and broke. Some immortal residences that were caught in the crossfire were torn apart like paper, shaved away by that fist intent.
Just looking at the sliding path of the green-clad sword immortal—between the two peaks, a trench several zhang deep had been carved into the ground.
The white-clad old ape followed like a shadow, another punch delivered. The fist force blossomed brilliantly, a dazzling white light as large as a well mouth, crashing straight into him.
That punch sent the green-clad figure, who had been back against the mountain, clean through Full Moon Peak!
Yuan Zhenye followed the "mountain gate path" he had blasted open, slightly spreading his overbearing and mighty fist intent. Countless rocks shattered along the way. Finally, he stomped down on even more cliff faces, causing a large portion of a cliffside inscription on the back mountain of Full Moon Peak to collapse. His burly form transformed into a rainbow and shot forward. With another punch, he sent that little bastard, who was truly determined not to fight back, hurtling like lightning toward the summer retreat lake halfway up Autumn Order Peak.
The green-clad figure, after receiving this heavy blow, flew backward with extreme speed. But just as he neared the water's surface, his figure suddenly halted in midair. The tips of his toes lightly touched the lake, sending out ripples that expanded in circles.
The green robes fluttered, an immortal standing on water.
But the entire lake beneath his feet instantly exploded. Boiling water rolled, surging waves rose into the sky, and mist billowed upward. Countless cultivators watching from nearby pavilions and towers were instantly drenched like drowned rats.
This heart-stopping scene caused Xia Yuancui's eyelids to twitch uncontrollably. You two damn bastards, if you're going to fight, take it somewhere else! Don't wreck the feng shui treasure land of my peak!
The white-clad old ape punched down from above.
I heard you liked to pray to gods and buddhas since you were a kid—then obediently sacrifice yourself and become a water spirit!
Chen Ping'an simply stretched out his palm and casually blocked that punch.
The green-clad sword immortal and the white-clad old ape descended together. The summer retreat lake was instantly emptied, the water rushing in all directions along the slopes, cascading down Full Moon Peak.
On the spirit path climbing Full Moon Peak, it was as if a creek had taken the steps as its riverbed, noisily pouring down to the foot of the mountain.
Near the summer retreat lake, the direct disciples of this peak and the guest observers were thrown into chaos. They had to use their own methods to resist the surging waves that crashed against the shore and then shot into the sky. The most troublesome aspect was that the waves contained fist intent, which, along with the lake water, blotted out the sky and the sun, unstoppable. Many cultivators' spells were shattered, their lifebound objects were jolted like drifting duckweed, their dao hearts unstable, and they hastily retracted what they had just summoned.
When gods fight, mortals suffer. Below the mountain summit, what difference was there between qi refiners who were not even Earth Immortals and ordinary mortals in the marketplace?
Everyone was terrified. That Mountain Moving Patriarch had served as Zhengyang Mountain's mountain-protecting elder for a thousand years, and his time cultivating in the mountains was even longer. Having such dharma and fist intent might still be somewhat plausible, but that young sword immortal from Luo Mountain, who had appeared out of nowhere, was at most about the same age as Liu Xianyang. Where did he get such a foundation of cultivation?
The ten young and reserve figures selected across Bottleneck Continent—Ma Kuxuan of True Martial Mountain, with his cultivation roots and talent; Jiang Yun and Liu Baqiao, with their masters' inheritances; Xie Ling, with his family background and fortune—however they rose, there was always a traceable pattern.
Not only was the lake empty, but even the mud at the bottom had been scattered, revealing the bare green stone of Full Moon Peak's mountain roots at the lakebed.
The water receded and the rocks emerged—that's what it was. To create such a scene, it took only one punch: the white ape delivered it, the green-clad caught it.
Chen Ping'an stood on the slightly damp green stone. Cracks kept sounding beneath his feet. The bottom of the summer retreat lake looked as if a spiderweb had appeared. He raised his hand, employing a water technique to scoop water back into the lake.
The white-clad old ape stood on the shore, his expression unchanged.
After several punches, a single breath of pure true qi still coursed through mountains and rivers, not yet exhausted.
Xia Yuancui communicated via heart voice with a few fellow disciples nearby. "Junior Disciple Tao, my Full Moon Peak only lost some stones, but your Autumn Order Peak's fine summer retreat lake has suffered such a calamity. It won't be easy to repair."
Yan Chu said, "Yanbo, half an incense stick is half gone again. Still no decision? As I see it, since the overall situation is settled, whether Autumn Order Peak nods or shakes its head, it won't change anything."
This disciplinary patriarch's implication was, of course, a kind reminder to the similarly senior Tao the Money God—at least preserve a bit of heroic spirit for Autumn Order Peak, so that it would sound better when told to outsiders. Crossing the river and burning the bridge was the intention of Zhu Huang and First Line Peak, but Autumn Order Peak was different—their backbone standing firm, it might earn them a new look from all the outsiders staying on the various peaks to observe.
For Yan Chu, it was best if Tao Yanbo's Autumn Order Peak continued to put up a brave front. Managing all the finances of Zhengyang Mountain, Autumn Order Peak actually held more real power than Yan Chu himself, the disciplinary patriarch from Water Dragon Peak. If Water Dragon Peak and Autumn Order Peak could swap positions from now on?
Zhu Huang's expression turned displeased. He said in a deep voice, "Things have come to this point—stop each playing your own little abacus."
The so-called "one incense stick then sword challenge" earlier—that wasn't just something Chen Ping'an made up. It was roughly the time limit for the sword summit immortal beside Zhu Huang to maintain his current realm.
Could this fellow be a stomach worm inside Zhengyang Mountain? How did he know everything so clearly?
Thus, what Zhu Huang truly feared in his heart was not a sword immortal, nor a mountain master, but this kind of needle-in-the-cotton mindset.
Inside the summer retreat lake, after Chen Ping'an used his technique to scoop the water back in, the water level was shallow, crystal clear to the bottom.
Chen Ping'an finally spoke, asking with a smile, "Back then in the town, you had your hands tied—understandable. But on your own turf, why so girly? Afraid of killing me?"
Because Yuan Zhenye was, after all, still a qi refiner. In the Pearl Grotto-Heaven back then, the higher his realm, the more he was suppressed, constrained by the Great Dao at every turn. Even each inhalation and exhalation would affect the qi flow of the small grotto-heaven. A slight misstep, and Yuan Zhenye would lose a great deal of his cultivation, delaying his breakthrough. Given Yuan Zhenye's status, he naturally knew about the ancient ten-thousand-year-old flood dragon within the Yellow Court Kingdom, or even the dragon belonging to the water spirit cultivating in the Fengshui Cave of the Qiantang River in the southeast region—both had the chance to become Bottleneck Continent's first Jade Pure realm mountain and marsh spirit.
This mountain-protecting elder had probably already considered the Upper Five Realm as something within his grasp, and was determined to contend for the "first" to gather the continent's fortune in his body. At most, at the Kiln Affairs Supervisory Office, he happened to encounter the incognito princely lord Song Changjing, and couldn't resist exchanging punches with him, thinking to use physical combat to hone his own dharma and make further progress.
Yuan Zhenye grinned ferociously. "I've seen people looking for death, but I've never seen someone so desperate to die. Grandpa Yuan will satisfy you today!"
The white-clad old ape's elderly face took on some of his ape true form. Hair instantly sprouted over his head and face, like countless silver threads flying.
The old ape lunged in a long stride, sweeping his leg into the green-clad figure's ribs, kicking him out of Autumn Order Peak, sending him flying toward the nearby Qiongzhi Peak.
Under that kick, the qi mechanism was as chaotic as great thunder shattering in a tiny area. The entire Autumn Order Peak radiated outward in waves, like a line of iron cavalry passing through. Wherever it went, rocks shattered, vegetation pulverized, residences exploded. Even the clouds and mist outside Autumn Order Peak tilted, as if dragged toward Qiongzhi Peak.
From beginning to end, the green-clad sword immortal kept his promise to never fight back. Like a dragonfly skimming the water, he touched the ridge of an immortal mansion, the tip of an ancient tree branch, and the top of a green bamboo stalk, then stopped.
The Luo Mountain's Second Seat, who was guarding Qiongzhi Peak, hastily withdrew the myriad rays of glowing sword energy.
The white-clad old ape crashed into that bamboo grove, causing countless green colors to burst forth in an instant across Qiongzhi Peak. Thousands of green bamboo stalks burst out of the ground, flying around wildly.
But this time, Yuan Zhenye's punches were incredibly fast—few could see them clearly. Most could only vaguely perceive that streak of white rainbow surging irresistibly through the clusters of green, his fist intent tearing heaven and earth apart. As for the green-clad figure, there was no sign of him.
The next moment, a streak of green arced out of Qiongzhi Peak, an extremely long curve that just looped around Cloud Dispelling Peak, then passed by a small tributary peak. The white-clad old ape contracted the mountains and rivers, suddenly manifesting his true Dharma form. His enormous palm swept sideways, directly smashing off an entire section of a blue mountain peak. The mountain flew like a flying sword toward the green-clad figure. The latter casually flicked his sleeve, and the mountain peak shattered into pieces in midair, falling like sword rain. That green figure used the momentum to fly even faster toward Rain Foot Peak over a dozen li away. The old ape's Dharma form followed in giant strides, one shoulder crashing into the summit of Rain Foot Peak, shattering it again, and sending debris shooting toward Chen Ping'an.
At the same time, the old ape's Dharma form kicked a toe deep into the ground and gave a light shout. With a flick of his toe, he broke off a small hilltop from the earth, lifting it into the air. Together with the summit of Rain Foot Peak, one front and one back, they simultaneously smashed toward that green-clad sword immortal.
The ferocious old ape, his savagery unleashed, then uprooted two more small tributary peaks, grabbing one in each hand, and hurled them at that reckless little bastard.
The old ape's towering Dharma form stepped across the landscape, planting one foot on the summit of a broken ancient great mountain from a long-vanished southern kingdom, staring ahead.
Chen Ping'an formed two fingers together into a sword slash, cleaving the Rain Foot Peak summit in half. With a wave of his left sleeve, he sent the two halves back to their original positions. Then with two light flicks of his fingers, he directly halted the two small tributary peaks in midair.
The green-clad figure drifted down slowly to land atop Green Mist Peak.
Pei Qian quickly landed and stood beside her master—it wouldn't look right otherwise.
Chen Ping'an laughed. "It's fine. The old beast didn't eat enough today—his punches were soft. When he tried to toss mountains from a distance, it was even more like willow fluff drifting. Far less forceful than our little Mili tossing sunflower seeds."
Upon hearing this, the black-clad little girl was so happy she couldn't close her mouth. She hugged her mountain-walking staff, quickly raised both hands to cover her mouth, her faint eyebrows, squinting eyes, joy as big as a table.
She wasn't that strong at all—no, no—the good mountain master was just teasing; no one should believe it. But if they did believe it, she'd have no way to make them stop.
Cui Dongshan chuckled. "Our Right Protector didn't even need to lift a hand today, but his name is already spreading far and wide."
Xiao Mili laughed heartily. "Empty fame, all empty fame."
Chen Ping'an then used his heart voice to speak to Pei Qian. "Keep an eye on First Line Peak. If anyone dares to pop up, beat them back."
Pei Qian nodded. "Got it."
Chen Ping'an lightly tapped the ground, and in an instant left Green Mist Peak. Silent and soundless, compared to the white-clad old ape's truly earth-shattering mountain-moving might, it had no presence at all.
The green-clad figure passed by the two mountain peaks that seemed frozen by a stop spell, dragging the mountains behind him, facing the old ape's Dharma form, which was stepping on a mountain peak, from a distance.
The remaining half incense stick was about to end.
Chen Ping'an used his heart voice to laugh. "Don't worry. At First Line Peak, at least Tao Zi will definitely make a move. I remember seeing her for the first time at Fortune Street; I knew she was an extremely clever person since childhood. But if Ancestor Yuan keeps showing off your invincible posture and rampaging through the mountains, how can she still stand up for you? Three punches—your last three punches. Ancestor Yuan, think carefully: do you want to keep letting outsiders watch the spectacle, or let the experts see the true path? I'm fine either way."
After speaking, he tossed the two mountains back to their respective positions—Cloud Dispelling Peak's tributary peak and Rain Foot Peak's summit—to serve as new peaks.
The white-clad old ape abruptly retracted his Dharma form, standing on the mountaintop. He took a deep breath. With just that ordinary inhalation and exhalation, a series of strong mountain winds arose between several peaks. The gale howled, scattering clouds and winds, shattering cliffs and trees. Yuan Zhenye, standing at the peak, surveyed his surroundings. A thousand li of mountains and rivers lay prostrate beneath his feet. Within his field of vision, the only thing was that green-clad figure, utterly grating.
As that little bastard from Mud Bottle Alley had said, there was probably still about three punches left.
Yuan Zhenye's dharma and fist intent merged. It was as if thousands of years of cultivation dharma were the heavens, and his fist intent, accumulated and honed over a thousand years, was the earth. Using his personal microcosm as a bridge of immortality, he united the two, reaching the mysterious state of the union of heaven and earth.
At the highest point of his life's momentum, he delivered his first punch—a trade of injury for life, equivalent to the peak fist punch of a Stop Realm martial artist.
A little muddy-legged brat should spend his whole life wallowing in the mud. Having gotten a taste of fortune by luck, you don't know to cherish it, don't understand the truth of hiding away to enjoy blessings. Instead, you dare to put on airs at Zhengyang Mountain? Then a single punch will smash you to pieces, sending everything back down to the mortal world. Your fate will be even worse than that Full Moon Peak female cultivator whose white bones were sun-dried in Wind and Thunder Garden's square by Li Tuanjing.
If there were any accidents, there was still a second punch to entertain the guest—equivalent to the full force blow of an Immortal realm sword immortal.
The last punch—whatever sword immortal, whatever mountain master—die on the side!
At First Line Peak, Tao Yanbo's face was full of exhaustion. Among the various peak sword immortals, plus the patrons and guest elders—nearly fifty people in total—only a mere seven or eight Zhengyang Mountain sword immortals shook their heads.
The rest all nodded, agreeing to Zhu Huang's proposal.
According to the rules of the Ancestral Hall, from this moment on, Yuan Zhenye was no longer Zhengyang Mountain's mountain-protecting elder.
Zhu Huang said, "Yuan Zhenye, stop. Although you are no longer a registered immortal master of Zhengyang Mountain, I am willing to plead with Luo Mountain. No matter what price Zhengyang Mountain has to pay, I guarantee you can walk out of Zhengyang Mountain territory alive today. Then you must leave Bottleneck Continent."
At the same time, Zhu Huang sent his heart voice to that green-clad sword immortal. "Mountain Master Chen, as long as Yuan Zhenye attempts to sail across the sea and travel to another continent in the future, I will personally lead Xia Yuancui and Yan Chu to cooperate with your Luo Mountain and jointly kill this beast!"
Chen Ping'an paid him no heed. He simply squinted his eyes with a smile, neither refusing nor agreeing.
Yuan Zhenye also remained unmoved. The white-clad old ape turned his head to glance at the Sword Summit. On his old ape face, there was no expression at all.
Perhaps it was that grief greater than the death of the heart, or perhaps this Mountain Moving Patriarch, bearing the fortune of an entire continent, was actually fully confident, still with tricks up his sleeve, ready to turn the tide.
What the white-clad old ape saw with his eyes and thought in his heart was that this year, the ancient tung tree on the mountain had already shed its leaves before autumn had even arrived.
In past years, flowers bloomed and fell, leaves turned green and yellow, all undisturbed. Only the rustling sound of a broom sweeping the ground remained.
Yuan Zhenye stomped down, shattering the entire mountain summit. With momentum like a rainbow, he charged toward that green-clad figure hanging high in the sky.
His fist intent, perfectly rounded, seemed taller than the mountains themselves.
As the punch was delivered, it was like the thunder pool cracking open and bursting forth.
Almost everyone instinctively looked up. They saw the green-clad figure hit by that punch, vanishing instantly.
But the one who had thrown the punch, Yuan Zhenye, was actually thrown backward more than ten zhang. Both his sleeves were shattered, his two sinewy arms became a mess of blood and flesh, bones exposed—a horrifying sight. Then the white-clad old ape suddenly shot upward, roaring, and threw his second punch toward the sky.
In the sky above a thousand li of mountains and rivers, there was only the continuous rumble of thunder, endless, with no sign of the green-clad figure.
The thunderclaps seemed to ring right next to everyone's ears. Many cultivators of insufficient realms had to cover their ears, struggling to circulate their internal spiritual energy to protect their dao hearts.
Earth Immortal cultivators watching from the various peaks hurriedly used their techniques and divine abilities to help the suffering cultivators nearby, dispersing the falling rain of dharma and fist intent ripples.
Yuan Zhenye put his hands behind his back. Both his fists had dissolved into flesh and bone, his eardrums had shattered. His hair was disheveled, his temple hairs snow-white, stained with blood flowing from his ear holes, clumped together.
At the Sword Resting Pavilion on First Line Peak, a young female sword immortal cried out sharply, "Grandpa Yuan, let me help you!"
A beautiful woman in purple robes, as if disregarding life and death, was alone, about to fly her sword toward the sky.
But just as she left the ground more than ten zhang, a young woman with a bun hairstyle flew through the air at great speed, reached out and grabbed her by the neck, yanking her backward off her flying sword. She casually threw her back onto the square of the Sword Resting Pavilion, where she landed in disarray, battered and embarrassed. Tao Zi was about to retrieve her sword into its sheath, but the female martial artist reached out, grasped the blade, gave it a gentle twist, broke the long sword into two, and casually embedded them into the ground beside Tao Zi.
The guest observers had learned their lesson—they no longer picked up sesame seeds and lost the watermelon. They cast a glance or two at the commotion at the Sword Resting Pavilion, then continued to look upward, together with the white-clad old ape.
That man had taken two punches and still hadn't fought back.
And he wasn't dead?
The answer was obvious: not only was that fellow not dead, he was completely unharmed.
At the edge of the sky, the green-clad figure seemed to be strolling leisurely, descending step by step.
Then the green-clad figure stopped, lifted his shoe, gently put it down, and twisted his toe as if to say: crushing you, Yuan Zhenye, is like crushing an ant.
Yuan Zhenye's eyes bulged wide. He clenched both fists, now only white bone, and roared upward, "Who the hell are you?!"
He absolutely could not believe that this green-clad figure descending from the heavens was that muddy-legged little bastard from Mud Bottle Alley, who only knew how to be clever.
Chen Ping'an laughed. "The kiln worker from Mud Bottle Alley back then, the mountain master of Luo Mountain now. Aren't they both named Chen Ping'an? Who else could I be?"
Chen Ping'an raised both hands, and in each palm, a sun and a moon formed and coalesced.
The great sun shone brilliantly pure, the bright moon glowed softly radiant.
Sun rises, moon sets; moon sets, sun rises—circling back and forth, forming a solemn golden circle, like the path of a deity patrolling heaven and earth.
Then Chen Ping'an twisted his wrists. Lifebound stars of the Five Elements manifested, showing five colors, slowly revolving around the sun and moon.
Sun, moon, and stars, as if receiving a decree, orbited around one person. The sun and moon hung together, a silver river spanned the sky, following rules and norms, suspended in heaven and revolving.
After that came a series of landscape diagrams: Bottleneck Continent, Indus Leaf Continent, North Juju Continent, appearing and disappearing, some colored, some sketched in outline. Various mountain and river spirits with dotted eyes flashed by in the scroll like passing flowers. Among them was a single Inverted Mountain that had already journeyed to Bright Obscurity Heaven.
In an instant, the green-clad figure stood at the center, a spirit man in the heavens.
Even Jiang Shangzhen was somewhat shaken and couldn't help asking, "Brother Cui, what kind of sword technique is this?!"
Cui Dongshan said with a grin, "Of course it's sword technique. But you could also call it a fist technique pioneered by my teacher. Both fist and sword are acceptable—no need to separate them. For pure martial artists, in the ten thousand years since, none have been more formidable in the world. This is the peak."
Cui Dongshan waved his snow-white sleeve. "After all, he is my teacher. Nothing to be surprised about."
Otherwise, how could the teacher have narrowed the martial gap with that Cao Ci?
The key was the unprecedented state of 'ten realms' exuberance.
Pei Qian was radiant with pride. See? Wasn't it still her who was smart? Her teacher could teach fist techniques, but as for feeding punches, it was absolutely not allowed.
The extradimensional demon Tianmo, borrowing Shi Rou's body, couldn't help but repeat his old trick, raising his arm and shouting, "Hidden Hand Ancestor's martial arts are invincible, his sword techniques unmatched! To hell with the White Jade Capital's true invincibility! Dao Two keep being second for ten thousand years..."
But this white-haired boy, possessing Shi Rou's body, fortunately remembered to use a technique to isolate heaven and earth, preventing his words from leaking out. The only flaw was that it wasn't entirely satisfying, since the Hidden Hand Ancestor couldn't hear these iron-boned heartfelt words.
She Yue looked at that bright moon for a while, held her breath, focused, and stared carefully. Finally, she sighed. Although that fellow had returned half a percent of her moon essence when he was at the forge, probably out of consideration for Liu Xianyang, this young Hidden Hand's heart and hand were both black. What kind of brain did a scholar have? He learned everything like a true imitation. Could it be that she, too, would have to study at a school in town for a few days?
She Yue asked, "Will this old ape run away?"
Ning Yao shook her head. "His body and heart are both dead."
On the ferry boat, Yu Huiting found the scene thrilling, murmuring, "No wonder he could become the Hidden Hand on the Sword Qi Great Wall."
Wei Jin said, "Yuan Zhenye is about to use his trump card."
Yu Huiting asked curiously, "Uncle Wei, how do you know?"
Wei Jin remained silent. Couldn't she think for herself? Even if she couldn't guess the truth, if she waited for a moment or two, she'd naturally know the answer. What was the point of asking?
Yu Huiting mistakenly thought that Uncle Wei was thinking about something, so she pressed on, "Uncle Wei, is it that the mountain-protecting elder's next punch will be even more ferocious, trying to exchange lives?"
Wei Jin was too lazy to even turn his head to look at her. Rarely putting on the airs of a senior, he said casually, "I heard your training in the mortal world went well, and you have a good reputation in the Dali border army. But don't get complacent—avoid arrogance and impatience. When you return to Wind and Snow Temple, put more effort into cultivating your heart."
His implication was actually to remind her that in mountain cultivation, she needed to use her brain more.
Yu Huiting didn't think much of it. She only took it as the most distant Uncle Wei of Immortal Terrace unexpectedly showing concern for someone. Her face immediately bloomed like a flower.
Wei Jin knew he had wasted his words.
Yuan Zhenye stepped onto the void, once again manifesting his massive true form of the mountain-moving ape. His pale gold eyes fixed deathly on that former ant above him.
Upon his body were many purplish-golden chains of fortune, flowing like rivers within the riverbed of his sinews, bones, and blood vessels. This was the dao protection bestowed upon the first mountain and marsh spirit in the continent to ascend to the Upper Five Realm.
Chen Ping'an also had a pair of golden eyes, but his were far more concentrated and pure than Yuan Zhenye's. He sneered, "What, do you need me to say I'm Zhu Yan for you to recognize your ancestral lineage?"
Yuan Zhenye's expression was fierce. "Keep laughing, you mongrel. One more punch and we'll both be reduced to jade and stone. Remember to find a good place for your reincarnation..."
Chen Ping'an crooked his finger. Come on, I'm begging you to kill me.
The half incense stick was already up. I can even give you an extra punch.
Cui Dongshan tried to hold back, but still couldn't help bursting into laughter.
Jiang Shangzhen was also helpless. Who would want to compete in fortune consumption and dao suppression with this young mountain master of ours, who was targeted from all sides by both the Haoran and Barren Wilderness worlds?
As for that Mountain Moving Patriarch's nonsense, no need to quibble. He would soon shut up completely.
Jiang Shangzhen asked in heart voice, "The suppression of the two worlds is still there, but it doesn't seem as obvious now. Did he find some way to break it?"
Cui Dongshan revealed the key in one sentence. "Teacher merely truly understood a Buddhist saying: 'Desiring to ferry all sentient beings is actually being ferried by all sentient beings.' This allowed him to follow the current and ascend to a certain realm. 'Always lost in the dharma, yet everywhere an opportunity for the dharma without obstacles.' Teacher had this heart first, then this realm."
Jiang Shangzhen nodded. "Impressive."
But Jiang Shangzhen knew very well that Cui Dongshan made it sound easy. What Chen Ping'an had truly gone through was an absolute torment of body and mind.
Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes. "No shit."
At the Sword Summit, Liu Xianyang shook his empty wine flask and casually tossed it over the white jade railing. He clasped his hands behind his head. The grudges of the past were all in the past now.
Outside the bamboo building at Luo Mountain, there was no longer any mirror flower, water moon from Zhengyang Mountain. But that was fine—they still had Chief Zhou's methods.
Inside, Cao Qinglang and everyone else each had a handful of melon seeds, left by Little Mili before she went down the mountain, asking Sister Warm Tree to pass them around, one handful for everyone.
Wei Bo left Piyun Mountain and quietly appeared here, followed by the concealed Nascent Soul sword immortal Cui Wei, who softly greeted, "Mountain Lord Wei."
Wei Bo smiled and nodded. "You've worked hard."
Cui Wei was momentarily speechless.
I'm a registered guest elder at the Jise Peak Ancestral Hall, just keeping an eye on my own mountain. What hard work?
Wei Bo seemed to feel that what he had said was a bit off, and he self-deprecatingly remarked, "I need to change this habit."
Earlier, when he was inspecting the Red Candle Town at the junction of three rivers, at that bookstore, the water god Li Jin had even joked, saying that he was a mountain lord of Bottleneck Continent and a mountain god of Jise Peak.
Wei Bo felt there was some truth to it. Water God Li's words were quite witty. Who was the official superior, and who was the subordinate? So he had taken several dozen books from the bookstore without paying.
On the table, the little incense fire figure from the Prefectural City God Temple, who had come to Luo Mountain to check in today, was diligently gathering melon seed shells into a heap like a small mountain.
Seeing that Mountain Lord Wei was around, and that Chen Lingjun was not present to protect him—the same little guy who had helped spread the nickname of Mountain Lord Wei far and wide—he quickly crouched behind the "small mountain." As long as I can't see Wei Nightwalker, Wei Nightwalker can't see me.
Within the private mountain and rivers for a thousand li around Zhengyang Mountain, once Yuan Zhenye manifested his true form, even the common market folk could look up and see the mountain-protecting elder's massive figure.
As for the guest observers, they simply couldn't understand how that green-clad sword immortal from Luo Mountain had managed to take one punch after another under this old ape's attacks.
The senior patriarch Xia Yuancui communicated via heart voice: "Junior Disciple, your choice seems ruthless, but is actually wise. If it were me making the decision, I might not have been as decisive."
Regardless, with Autumn Order Peak no longer contending for the position of sect master of the subordinate sect, Full Moon Peak's direct sword immortals had a greater chance of taking on that burden.
Yan Chu nodded. "When weighing two harms, choose the lesser. Looking back, the sect master's action had no hesitation—truly admirable."
Only Tao Yanbo stood dumbfounded and silent. From now on, how would his Autumn Order Peak position itself? Amid these shattered loyalties among the various peaks of Zhengyang Mountain, would the sword immortal lineage of Autumn Order Peak still have a place to stand?
No longer the mountain-protecting elder, Yuan Zhenye, in his true white ape form, delivered the highest dharma and most peak fist intent of his life toward the sky above.
Before the old ape threw the punch, he let out a loud laugh. "Dead is dead—don't think this old man will beg for mercy from a bastard like you!"
As for the outcome, after half an incense stick of non-stop punching, how could Yuan Zhenye not know in his heart?
Yuan Zhenye's punch was delivered, and a golden ripple appeared in the sky, rapidly expanding in all directions. Across the entire Zhengyang Mountain territory, it was as if a magnificent golden wave swept slowly past.
The old ape's arm that delivered the punch shattered like a mountain collapse, everything breaking apart, a torrential rain of blood splattering everywhere.
In the air, the old ape still maintained the forward punch posture. But within the small world of several li around the green-clad figure, the sun, moon, and stars still revolved in perfect order, the great dao flowing in an unbroken cycle.
The old ape, having lost one arm, tilted his shoulder slightly, just brushing the edge of that small world. Where the daos clashed, starlight sprayed in all directions, fiery rain fell from the sky—a magnificent sight.
Chen Ping'an said, "Then it's my turn."
The heavenly anomalies abruptly converged. The ten-realm martial artist, returning to the true layer: his fist technique was sword art, as if a sword art from ten thousand years ago was descending upon the mortal world.
A massive vortex appeared at the edge of the sky. A golden sword light, as if patrolling the river of time for millions of years, broke through the air, striking the old ape's true form on the head, sending Yuan Zhenye crashing straight down to the ground of Zhengyang Mountain. His head hit the earth, landing squarely on Backsword Peak.
The sword light fell straight down, lingering for a long time—like a golden sword that invisibly connected heaven and earth, piercing through the old ape's skull and slanting into the ground.
Yuan Zhenye prostrated on the ground, roaring. His hands pressed against the earth, struggling to lift his head and rise. Then the green-clad figure stood in a straight line on top of his head, forcing Yuan Zhenye's face to droop immediately, pressed tightly against Backsword Peak.
Chen Ping'an raised his arm high. In his palm, the Five Thunders converged like a heavenly tribulation coalescing. With a swift press downward, he struck the back of Yuan Zhenye's neck.
Then, with his left hand reaching out, the long sword Night Traveler from the memorial archway at First Line Peak came as a rainbow. The green-clad figure held the long sword, dragged it along, and slowly walked across the old ape's neck, the sword light gently cutting through.
In the end, he severed Yuan Zhenye's massive head like that and let it roll down the mountain.
From his sleeve, talismans continuously flew out like a long river, completely destroying the headless body of Yuan Zhenye.
At the base of the mountain, the head's eyes were still fiercely fixed on the green-clad figure at the summit. The eyes gradually dimmed, either unwilling to die or still having unfinished wishes, refusing to close no matter what.
Chen Ping'an nodded at it.
For some reason, Yuan Zhenye seemed to understand the meaning of that youth from Mud Bottle Alley back then. He nodded slightly, finally closed his eyes, and, exactly like the Full Moon Peak female ghost cultivator Situ Wenying, chose to leave behind all his remaining Jade Pure realm residual dao rhyme and surviving fortune for Zhengyang Mountain.
Earlier, the old ape had had the option to detonate his golden core and nascent soul, but in his final living moment, he had only one thought—as if speaking to the man on the summit: "I beg you, don't kill Tao Zi!"
And that green-clad figure, as if foreseeing this, meant with his nod: I am not you.
Yuan Zhenye's soul dissipated. Faintly visible was a vague white-clad old man, his figure stooped, standing by the head at the base of the mountain. His last words in this life, spoken while looking up at that youth, were asked via heart voice: "Who is it that kills me?"
Chen Ping'an did not answer. He simply waved his sleeve, dispersing the soul.
Night Traveler returned to its sheath, slung across his back.
He raised his foot and stomped heavily. The entire summit beneath him split into four or five pieces.
No longer was there Backsword Peak in the human world—only a green-clad figure with a sword on his back, a far traveler.
Such is the journey of the Great Dao: one who holds a candle and travels by night does not fear ghosts. It is the ghosts who should fear people.
Except for the observing crowd from Luo Mountain.
All the sword immortals and disciples of Zhengyang Mountain, as well as all the guests remaining on the old and new peaks, felt a strange suffocation at that moment.
It was as if, at that instant, beside each and every one of them stood a green-clad sword immortal from Luo Mountain.
That green-clad figure flew with the wind to the Sword Summit, which had lost an Ancestral Hall.
As the sect master of Zhengyang Mountain, Zhu Huang immediately clasped his fists in salute. "Zhengyang Mountain's Zhu Huang pays respects to Mountain Master Chen."
Liu Xianyang rolled his eyes. He exchanged a glance with Chen Ping'an, then took the lead to fly away with the wind. Looking around, he spotted that round-faced girl standing among the reeds and immediately scampered over toward Egret Ferry.
Chen Ping'an looked around, said nothing more, and followed Liu Xianyang, flying away with the wind. Along the way, he turned his head to give a brilliant smile toward Egret Ferry. Then he came to the white-clad youth and the black-clad little girl, rubbed Little Mili's head, and said softly with a smile, "Let's go home."