On the prestigious Huishan Mountain, renowned for its dominance in the martial arts world of the southeast, if Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan was likened to a sharp sword drawn from its sheath, then Xuan-Yuan Jingyi was a blunt knife—less sharp, yet more beneficial to the family. Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan’s temperament was unsuitable for social interactions. That eldest grandson, often seen like a dragon’s head emerging briefly from obscurity, was solely devoted to his studies, leaving many burdens naturally to fall upon Xuan-Yuan Jingyi. Skilled in welcoming guests from all over the land and adept at nurturing warriors, the second branch of the family had seen its status rise steadily over the years, becoming increasingly stable. Six or seven out of ten guest warriors were aligned with him, and the two hundred cavalry were all under Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan’s command. Renowned bandits and heroes from nearby provinces would raise their thumbs and praise him as the “Timely Rain of Jiangdong.” Once, a beautiful servant girl mocked a lame martial artist who had come to the mountain seeking recognition, causing the latter to descend in shame and anger. Upon hearing this, Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan immediately beheaded his favored servant girl, took her head down the mountain to apologize to the martial artist, who at the time was merely an unknown figure in the martial world but is now the second-ranking guest warrior of Huishan.
Among the generation bearing the name “Jing,” three branches emerged, and with the distribution of resources inevitably leading to shifts in power, there was no possibility of all three branches advancing equally. The eldest grandson, Xuan-Yuan Jingcheng, was already widely considered a withered tree, sparse in branches and leaves, offering no shade or comfort. Meanwhile, Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan was overly domineering, even daring to utter the absurd and outrageous phrase “eating dumplings and eating one’s brother’s wife.” Coupled with his self-assured mastery of martial arts, he inevitably came across as aloof and distant.
Did Xuan-Yuan Jingyi harbor ambitions of one day residing in Guniu Jiang? Currently, he was in a precarious position; he himself had no desire to contend, yet he was pushed forward by others, as if he had no choice but to compete. Within great families, only carefree dogs existed, never carefree people. The bitter consequence of not competing was already exemplified by his elder brother Xuan-Yuan Jingcheng.
Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan was a tall and imposing figure, hailed in his youth as the “graceful gentleman of Jiangdong,” though his demeanor was sincere and his sharpness restrained, making him easily approachable. Now facing off against those uninvited northerners from Beiliang, Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan felt a headache but not fear. With over a hundred archers by his side, their strength far surpassed that of ordinary soldiers. A volley of arrows would create a downpour of projectiles. Moreover, upon hearing that the son of the “Butcher” had arrived, the guest warriors of Huishan were united in indignation, even those aligned with the third branch rushed to join. To Xuan-Yuan Jingyi, unless the opponent had the old sword immortal Li Chungan as a trump card, it would be like using a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken—overkill. Even if Li Chungan were alone and still formidable in his old age, could thirty guest warriors not surround and subdue him? Yet many things in the world defied ordinary logic. Though the battle seemed destined for victory, Xuan-Yuan Jingyi dared not be too reckless. If, in a moment of recklessness, he were to slay the Beiliang prince, what benefit would that bring to Huishan?
Xuan-Yuan Jingyi gazed from afar at the young prince beneath the ceremonial gate. The disparity in numbers was clear. Since victory in this game of chess was assured, all that remained was to gauge the appropriate force with which to strike. As he pondered, his thoughts drifted. He was confident his martial arts talent was no less than his younger brother’s. Yet over the years, his father, Xuan-Yuan Guoqi, had been deeply immersed in swordsmanship, spending most of the year either in secluded cultivation or seeking out reclusive sages to refine his sword techniques. Xuan-Yuan Jingyi, burdened with managing the affairs of a powerful clan, inevitably neglected his martial cultivation. In their youth, aside from some basic physical training, their eldest brother had completely avoided martial arts, placing Xuan-Yuan Jingyi and Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan on equal footing. By the time they reached adulthood and into their thirties, Xuan-Yuan Jingyi even surpassed his younger brother. However, after reaching middle age and burdened with family affairs, Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan began to surge ahead, leaving the others far behind. How could Xuan-Yuan Jingyi not resent his elder brother? If it weren’t for Xuan-Yuan Jingcheng’s refusal to learn martial arts and take on responsibilities… At this thought, Xuan-Yuan Jingyi couldn’t help but mock himself. Years ago, he had secretly felt grateful for his elder brother’s lack of ambition. Later, he realized that the seemingly powerful position he held was neither appealing nor secure.
On the grand Guniu Ridge, the mighty guest warriors were divided into three factions, clearly aligned with either Xuan-Yuan Jingyi or Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan, while the undecided ones remained. The outcome of who would become the next clan leader was still unclear, and this group of martial lords had clearly resolved to wait for clear signs before making a move. Those gathered around Xuan-Yuan Jingyi were generally more moderate in temperament, known for their good reputations in the martial world, embodying the image of righteous heroes who punished evildoers and upheld justice. Upon seeing the prince’s party ascending the mountain with blood-stained clothes, they all displayed expressions of righteous indignation.
In stark contrast were those aligned with Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan—mostly outlaws who had fled to the mountain seeking refuge, notorious for their fearsome reputations. Among them were several of the most infamous bandits in the southeastern empire, including a notorious womanizer known for his debauchery.
The final group was a mix of both good and evil, indifferent to conventional morality. They were referred to by the orthodox factions of the imperial court, who held some sympathy for the martial world, as “wandering warriors.” These individuals generally avoided major crimes, occasionally performing small acts of kindness when the mood struck them. Over time, they had accumulated a modest reputation.
At this moment, two senior guest warriors exchanged a brief, disdainful glance. Xuan-Yuan Jingyi allowed himself a slight smile—this was precisely the effect he had deliberately cultivated. The number of guest warriors on Huishan was staggering, most of them quite formidable, though a few were merely skilled in peculiar techniques. Huishan lavished these warriors with luxurious lifestyles, offering them women and secret manuals as needed. Yet, the clan’s leaders kept meticulous records, and only a handful—seven or eight at most—were truly recognized as worthy of attention on Guniu Ridge. Among these, the top-ranking guest warriors, Huang Fangfo and Hong Biao, were particularly notable. Hong Biao was the very cripple who had once been mocked by a servant and later rose to prominence. He lived up to Xuan-Yuan Jingyi’s expectations, displaying martial talent on Huishan’s sacred grounds that rivaled even Xuan-Yuan Jingxuan’s. His cultivation advanced rapidly, and his bold, ancient manner of conduct, coupled with a heroic bearing, made him the most popular among the guest warriors. More importantly, Hong Biao was skilled in military strategy and tactics. After being granted command of the cavalry, he significantly strengthened the second branch, enabling it to overpower the third. He was truly a fortunate general for Xuan-Yuan Jingyi.
Huang Fangfo, the chief guest warrior of Huishan, was a first-rate wandering warrior in the martial world, nearly reaching the level of a grandmaster. After encountering a major bottleneck in his martial cultivation, he had come to Huishan seeking secret manuals to overcome it, hoping to use external methods to break through. Normally, the leaders of Guniu Ridge would not trouble Huang Fangfo with such matters, for guest warriors were not like loyal servants who could be summoned and dismissed at will. These masters followed the rule of staying only as long as their interests aligned with the clan’s, leaving when they did not. Moreover, the most difficult people to please were scholars and martial experts. Originally known for its arrogance and dominance, Huishan had, under Xuan-Yuan Jingyi’s leadership, cultivated its influence over the past decade by adhering to the principle that harmony brings wealth, avoiding the arrogance of a powerful establishment. This inadvertently elevated the status and pride of the guest warriors, making their tempers increasingly capricious. Few could match Xuan-Yuan Jingyi’s efforts to win favor by sacrificing a concubine. Huang Fangfo was also a man of exceptional intelligence, a master of the eighteen martial arts, rarely encountering an equal in the martial world. Yet, he was inexplicably held back at the threshold of grandmasterhood. He even risked venturing to the western regions and the northern steppes in search of a breakthrough, but the level he sought remained just out of reach. Eventually, during a duel on the Spring God Lake with Xuan-Yuan Guoqi, where the two exchanged sword techniques and developed mutual respect, he was invited to Huishan. Now the leader among the wandering warriors, Huang Fangfo treated both Xuan-Yuan brothers with courtesy but not with complete openness. Instead, he often found himself drinking and discussing history with the eldest brother’s seemingly inept son, sharing a deep rapport.
A great family aspiring to dominate the martial world naturally engaged in both petty scheming for small gains and grand strategies for the entire martial realm.
Hong’er, the boy with the strength of a demon, walked barehanded into the central plaza. Xuan-Yuan Jingyi had already received word that this emaciated youth had killed over a dozen people on his way up the mountain, tearing off limbs with terrifying brutality. With the old masters and his father absent, Xuan-Yuan Jingyi stood as the banner of Huishan, accustomed to the comforts of high status and deeply concerned with appearances. He resolved to give the young prince a humiliating welcome, coldly ordering, “Release the arrows.”
The bowstrings emitted a shrill buzz, and a hail of arrows rained down upon the foolhardy youth.
The first level of the highest martial realm, known as the Realm of the Indestructible (Jin Gang Jing), was derived from Buddhist terminology, symbolizing an indestructible body akin to the Buddha’s immortal form. The Vajra Dharma Body (Jin Gang Fa Shen), or Indestructible Body of Diamond, was hailed as the strongest physical form in the three realms. Immortal Lü Dongxuan once wrote a humorous poem: “Having inherited the Taoist art of longevity, I have already attained the Indestructible Body of Diamond.” This poem was considered humorous because it mixed Buddhist and Taoist concepts, yet later generations did not dare to dismiss it lightly. Both Buddhist and Taoist traditions used this term to boast, hence in Taoism, the Realm of the Indestructible was also referred to as the lesser longevity realm, to distinguish it from the greater longevity realm. Clearly, there was a hint of arrogance in the Taoist tradition. Most who cultivated the Realm of the Indestructible in later life borrowed the power of their internal energy to achieve the effect of “ Unmoving as Mount Kunlun” (unmoving like Mount Kunlun), rendering their bodies impervious to blades and axes. Below the Realm of Celestial Phenomena, the King Kong and Mystic Revelation were the two highest realms, both following this principle. Li Chungan’s remark that there were now more Realm of the Indestructible warriors than cattle was an exaggeration, but it was due to the young prince’s high profile. Ordinary people rarely saw Realm of the Indestructible warriors display their skills, let alone encountered a minor grandmaster who was just one step away from breaking through to the highest level.
The arrows traced an arc through the air, aimed directly at Hong’er. The archers, skilled in their craft, far surpassed ordinary soldiers in both accuracy and force.
Xuan-Yuan Jingyi narrowed his eyes, waiting for the boy to be pierced and turned into a porcupine.
Hong Biao, with his short and stocky build, was unremarkable in appearance, far from the ethereal presence of the chief guest warrior Huang Fangfo, yet he possessed a boldness tempered by an unusually meticulous mind—a classic example of a rough man capable of delicate tasks. Watching the rain of arrows, he expressed concern: “Master, I’ve heard that the old Taoist master Zhao secretly took on a disciple, the young prince of Beiliang, whose martial roots and physique are quite exceptional. Could this boy be him? If we provoke both the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion and the Dragon-Tiger Mountain, won’t there be endless troubles?”
Xuan-Yuan Jingyi chuckled softly, “You suspect he’s the young prince of Beiliang, but I don’t know that. Besides, if he truly is Zhao Xitou’s esteemed disciple, he should have some ability. Otherwise, would he dare treat Guniu Ridge like a tavern at the foot of the mountain, coming and going as he pleases?”
Hmm?
Xuan-Yuan Jingyi and Hong Biao both paused in surprise.
The hail of arrows descended fiercely from the sky, yet the boy showed no sign of internal energy flowing, nor did he dodge or evade. He simply brushed away a few arrows with his hand, while those he couldn’t deflect struck his body harmlessly, snapping like eggs against stone. A few arrows aimed at his anticipated movements hit the ground, sparking from the force of their impact, demonstrating the archers’ immense strength and the arrows’ deadly speed. This only made the scene all the more bizarre. Without using internal energy to fortify his body, yet able to shatter those arrows upon impact, the discerning guest warriors of Huishan exchanged puzzled glances.
Huang Fangfo remarked calmly, “What an extraordinary Born under the stars Realm of the Indestructible! I’ve only heard elders speak of it as a rare phenomenon, never truly believing it. Today, I’ve witnessed it firsthand.”
At the edge of the guest warriors, a handsome man fanning himself with an autumn fan had a pair of flirtatious eyes, yet there was an unmistakable air of sinister charm about him. The front and back of his fan were painted with dozens of women, each marked with their names and family backgrounds, described in a dozen or so words, all filled with lewd and provocative language. These women had all fallen victim to his advances. He had already collected over a dozen such fans, carefully preserved as heirlooms for future generations. This self-proclaimed master of love and art had indulged in romantic escapades for years. If it weren’t for poisoning the daughter of a prefect two years ago and angering the authorities, he wouldn’t have come to Huishan to live under others’ scrutiny. Life on the mountain was far less enjoyable than in the secular world. Though Huishan was beautiful with its clear waters and charming women, such earthly pleasures were reserved exclusively for the direct descendants of the Xuan-Yuan clan. He had long harbored resentment and complaints. His reputation was abysmal, making him a target for public hatred. Yet, it was hard to imagine that such a notorious lecher could compose verses like “Life is fleeting, a hundred years at most; go forth and drink heartily, cursing the ages.”
Upon seeing the young man, supposedly the Beiliang prince, wearing a saber at his waist, he felt an immediate dislike. In his life, he hated two kinds of people the most: ugly women, for they would offend his eyes, and men more handsome than himself, for they often ended up maimed by his hand. The boy’s martial prowess was impressive, but after a moment’s consideration, seeing his dull and expressionless face, he assumed the boy was merely strong in brute force. As for that, he felt no fear at all. To be a flower-picking thief, the most crucial skill was the ability to escape quickly. Thus, his lightness technique ranked among the top even in the presence of many martial experts on Huishan. He felt that staying on Huishan had become unbearably dull. All the exceptional and beautiful women had already been claimed, visible but untouchable, which was frustrating beyond words. Huishan was a place teeming with hidden dangers and formidable figures. Trying to sneak into the gardens here was akin to seeking death. Perhaps it was better to descend the mountain and avoid the sight of it all. Two years had passed, and the storm had likely calmed. It was time to return to the martial world. The younger generation, who only knew how to secretly slip sedatives into women’s drinks, were truly disgracing the art of flower-picking. Flowers should not be plucked so crudely; the highest form of flower-picking was to pick them, enjoy them, and then replant them in a pot to bloom even more vibrantly, rather than recklessly breaking them, leaving them lifeless forever. Since he was leaving, but had enjoyed good food and hospitality in the past two years at Guniu Ridge, he felt he owed someone a favor. Today’s situation was tricky. He knew many of Huishan’s guest warriors were secretly afraid of offending the Beiliang King’s reputation and dared not act. But he was different. Once he left the mountain, whether it was the emperor himself or a feudal lord, who would dare to stop him? Where couldn’t he roam freely? This was Long Xuan Yu we were talking about.
Hong’er turned to look at Xu Fengnian. After receiving a nod of permission, he began to sprint with all his might.
“You mustn’t use that desperate technique, The Tyrant Sheds His Armor, again. If we can’t win, we’ll just run. It doesn’t matter if it’s embarrassing. As long as the green mountains remain, there will always be firewood. We’ll get our revenge someday.”
The heir prince turned his head to banter with Qing Niao beside him. As he spoke, a tone of regret crept in. “It’s a pity that Wen Hua isn’t here today. Though he may not be much of a fighter, he’s unmatched when it comes to verbal duels. He can curse someone until they’re steaming with rage, cursing their ancestors for eighteen generations without repeating a single word. Even Xu Fengnian, who learned countless verbal tricks from village women, would admit his inferiority and have no choice but to concede defeat. Back then, when we encountered Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, who I mistakenly thought was named Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, it was merely a trivial matter of two rascals unwilling to yield the path to a noble lady. It could have ended with a mere fight and some swallowed pride. But that bastard Wen Hua had an incredibly sharp tongue—he called her dog his father and her his mother, spouted nonsense about her having smelly armpits that could repel mosquitoes, and even made lewd gestures pretending to drop his pants and show off his buttocks. Even Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, who usually had the temperament of a bodhisattva, couldn’t help but fly into a rage and beat him up. This trip to Mount Hui would be a little less exciting without Wen Hua, whose verbal prowess rivals that of a land-bound immortal.”
Qing Niao dashed forward with her spear, her figure no less startling than that of Huang Man’er.
First a foolish boy, then a delicate girl—apart from the old sword immortal Li Chungan, was there no other master of note by the side of the Beiliang heir?
Long Xuanyu followed the rules and requested a challenge from Xuan Yuan Jingyi. Almost simultaneously, a guest martial artist renowned for his powerful boxing technique stepped forward. Seeing Qing Niao, the maid in green, charging with her spear, Xuan Yuan Jingyi didn’t even need Long Xuan Yu to speak before gesturing for him to deal with the reckless girl while assigning the boy to be captured by the other guest martial artist.
The outcome was already decided.
Xuan Yuan Jingyi had more or less predicted the result, but it was his own side that ended up being decisively defeated!
The guest martial artist, famous for his boxing skills, perhaps underestimated his opponent. In the first exchange, the boy stood firm and took the full force of a double-fist strike to the chest, his feet sinking into the floor, shattering it beneath him. Then, with a single punch, the boy shattered the guest’s head clean off!
Actually, “shattered” wasn’t quite accurate—the entire head was smashed clean off the body.
Hong Xiao, laughing loudly as he flew toward the girl in green, was about to say something mocking when he caught sight of this scene from the corner of his eye. He swallowed his words in terror. Sure enough, a spear strike came down suddenly, carving a crack in the ground that stretched two zhang long, the momentum increasing as it went. Fortunately, he dodged sideways quickly; otherwise, wouldn’t he have ended up like a watermelon sliced in half by a blade?
The woman made the entire Mount Hui understand what it meant for spear techniques to be fierce as a coiled snake striking with thunder.
Long Xuanyu’s martial arts skills in lightness were undoubtedly superb, but that red spear danced like a shadow following form, each strike shattering stones, and even when sweeping through the air, it roared with force.
Huang Fang, who had seen much and knew much, was once again stunned after witnessing the King Kong-like youth. He murmured, “Has the legendary Wang Xiu’s ‘ In an instant’ finally appeared in this world? But even that could be accepted—how could a young girl wield such overwhelming power?”
Xu Fengnian kept glancing at the old man in sheepskin, thinking that this was the perfect moment to strike while everyone was still in shock and seize the leader of the villains, Xuan Yuan Jingyi. Missing this opportunity would be a terrible waste.
Li Chungan rolled his eyes and said, “You’re worried about that girl, aren’t you? I don’t understand why you care so much for her, yet you won’t just take her. For a woman, that kind of care is the most real.”
Xu Fengnian, embarrassed and angry, snapped, “Don’t talk nonsense! Master, why don’t you act already?”
The old sword immortal raised his hand slightly, grumbling, “Wait a bit longer. Look over there.”
Xu Fengnian followed his gaze and saw Xuan Yuan Qingfeng slowly approaching. She called out to Xuan Yuan Jingyi, “My father has invited the young prince to Gu Niu Gang to view the scenery, and the permission of the elder has already been obtained.”
When these words were spoken, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Frowning, Xuan Yuan Jingyi said, “Qingfeng, don’t be childish.”
Clearly, he regarded her words as a fabrication of the elder’s decree.
Xuan Yuan Qingfeng replied calmly, “If Uncle doesn’t believe me, you can go to Gu Niu Gang yourself and ask the elder.”
Xuan Yuan Jingyi narrowed his eyes and smiled, “That won’t be necessary. But if the young prince wishes to make friends through martial arts, let’s settle this fight first.”
He turned to the guest martial artist seated second, saying, “Brother Hong, why don’t you spar a bit with that younger generation? Only by personally stepping forward can we show the sincerity of Mount Hui’s hospitality.”
Hong Biao, expressionless, prepared to move. Xuan Yuan Jingyi, meanwhile, subtly observed the tiniest changes in his niece’s expression. He held no affection for her—how dare she, a woman, attempt to wrest power from her own uncle? Truly, her ambitions soared higher than the heavens while her fate was thinner than paper! Xuan Yuan Jingyi waited for her to speak, convinced that Yuan Tingshan, already more exhaling than inhaling, had been discarded by her like a useless pawn, and that she had now turned to the Beiliang heir for support, hoping to use external force to counter the authority of the elder in Gu Niu Gang? But did this notorious young prince truly possess the ability to challenge the elder? Still, Xuan Yuan Jingyi understood his niece’s feelings—once one entered Gu Niu Gang and emerged again, it was a completely different world for any woman.
Xuan Yuan Qingfeng herself was already in a state of emotional turmoil, determined to go all-in, naturally paying no heed to Xuan Yuan Jingyi’s repeated mistaken assumptions.
In the backyard of the main family estate, a composed young widow silently watched the wine kettle gradually reach the perfect temperature.
The wine was named Danggui, brewed with pre-Mid-Autumn Osmanthus harvested from Mount Hui’s ancient tea leaves. The wine was golden-yellow and transparent, with a slight greenish tinge, its aroma a blend of tea and osmanthus. It tasted slightly bitter at first sip, but upon savoring, it revealed a long-lasting sweetness with endless aftertaste, embodying the meaning of bitterness preceding sweetness. Yet, this wine was not popular on Mount Hui.
Mount Hui was also known as Yaoshao Mountain. The ancient text *Shan Hai Jing* recorded in its “List of Great Mountains” that Yaoshao Mountain was abundant in osmanthus trees. However, after the Xuan Yuan family seized this blessed land, they enjoyed its blessings for centuries. But fortune does not last forever; their prosperity gradually waned, and even the ancient osmanthus trees began to die one by one. Last year, even the last two-thousand-year-old osmanthus tree—named Tang Gui, which had outlived even the sixteen-hundred-year-old Celestial Master Mansion of the Dragon and Tiger Mountains—withered away. Thus, apart from a few jars brewed last year from the last harvested osmanthus, the Danggui Osmanthus Wine would never be made again.
Everyone on Mount Hui knew that the eldest son, Xuan Yuan Jingcheng, was a strange man, obsessed with drinking Danggui wine while reading the classics of sages. The elders also remembered how, every year on Xuan Yuan Qingfeng’s birthday, this scholar—who once stubbornly dreamed of passing the imperial exams and refused to learn martial arts—would take his young daughter to measure her height against the Tang Gui tree. But after she turned fifteen, the now mature and worldly Qingfeng came to regard this tradition as a humiliation and refused to continue, growing increasingly distant from her father. In recent years, only a few guest martial artists like Huang Fang, who could actually converse with the scholar, had the privilege of tasting the bitter osmanthus wine with its amber hue. Xuan Yuan Jingcheng loved the bitter taste of the wine, living up to his reputation as an eccentric.
Xuan Yuan Jingcheng brewed three jars of Danggui wine every year, sending two of them to the courtyard, keeping only one for himself.
Thus, he was always short of wine to drink, while here, the wine remained untouched year after year, two jars accumulating more and more, the aroma growing richer with time.
Finally, she opened one of the wine jars and brought out a set of wine utensils that hadn’t been used in years—utensils crafted by that man himself.
Indeed, except for martial arts, there seemed to be nothing else that man couldn’t do.
Sitting alone, she poured a cup of wine onto the table, as if hesitating whether to drink or not. Unexpectedly, she suddenly grew angry with herself, reaching out and knocking the cup away.
After a while, she got up to retrieve the cup and noticed two small lines of writing engraved on its bottom, the handwriting elegant and otherworldly.
“Life may be bitter, but it’s of no consequence. A beloved one returning home makes all well.”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage