At the Snowy Ridge, dark clouds loomed overhead, and the storm was about to break.
Did he really dare to challenge Kunlun?
Upon hearing his grandson Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng’s words, Xuan Yuan Da Pan threw his head back and laughed heartily, completely unbothered by the imminent confrontation.
This was not mere arrogance on Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s part. Counting on his fingers the opponents he had once challenged, one could see the truth: in his coming-of-age years, he had wounded the family patriarch so severely that the latter never recovered; in his thirties, he faced the Spear Immortal Wang Xiu, narrowly losing by half a step; at forty, he entered the Wujia Sword Tomb alone, forcing the Sword Crown of that generation to use the Flying Sword Art, a loss that still brought honor. After that battle, he spent ten years cultivating sword techniques, confident enough to rival Li Chungan, the Sword Saint of that era, and yet he lost again. Then he turned to blade techniques, fighting against the young Gu Jiantang, and lost once more. Not to mention that he had even tested his internal energy against the immortal Qi Xuan Zhen, naturally losing, but if his cultivation were truly mediocre, would Qi Xuan Zhen, who had spent his entire life meditating atop the Demon-Slaying Platform, have even deigned to fight him?
Though Xuan Yuan Da Pan seemed to lose every duel, earning the mocking epithet “Xuan Yuan the Unbeaten,” one must not forget that even Qi Xuan Zhen, the only one in five centuries to rival the Patriarch Lu, and Li Chungan, the unrivaled swordsman of his time, were formidable figures. And even the once-unremarkable Gu Jiantang now stood as a peerless master of blade techniques, claiming second place so that none would dare claim first. Considering all this, how many would dare to underestimate this venerable patriarch of the Xuan Yuan clan? The world tends to glorify the past while belittling the present. Xuan Yuan Da Pan had lived nearly a century, and unlike Li Chungan, whose cultivation declined until his final days, Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s strength had steadily risen. It was widely believed that he had already reached the Heaven’s Will Realm when he turned eighty, and in recent years, he had devoted himself to the dual cultivation of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism, integrating the three into one. With his unyielding perseverance, he might yet attain the Realm of a terrestrial immortal. The Dragon and Tiger Mountains had not produced a Grand Immortal since Qi Xuan Zhen ascended to heaven, and once Xuan Yuan Da Pan achieved immortality, he would repay the old grudge against the Taoist ancestral temple. At that point, even if Gu Jiantang’s blade techniques were peerless, how could he stand against a terrestrial immortal?
Those well-informed about Li Chungan’s ascent to the mountain often speculated maliciously that the one-armed old swordsman sought to prove himself against Xuan Yuan Da Pan. Most doubted the fallen sword saint, whose cultivation had greatly declined. Gambling stakes were set across the martial world, betting on Li Chungan’s chances against various top-tier experts, all offering extremely high odds, indicating the general lack of faith in him. As for the odds against Wang Xianzhi and the new Sword Saint Deng Tai’e, they were so high that a mere 5,000 taels bet on Li Chungan’s victory could bankrupt the bookmakers.
The martial world is forgetful and unkind, much like how scholars often look down on one another—this has been the case since ancient times.
Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s ten-year retreat had clearly elevated his cultivation. The proof lay in his hair, which had turned from frost-white to dark black again, a sign of returning to the purity of youth, a subtle omen of attaining the Immortal of Eternal Life. Qi Xuan Zhen, during his demon-slaying days at Dragon and Tiger Mountain, had appeared as a youthful man in his twenties despite being in his seventies.
Xuan Yuan Da Pan was in no rush to strike. He had waited twenty years for this day. As one ages, patience grows. He gazed at his eldest grandson, a young man performing elegant gestures far from the mundane, his eyes devoid of emotion. To Xuan Yuan Da Pan, blood relations were neither sacred nor binding. Those who obeyed and showed promise were nurtured; those who were mediocre and unremarkable, even if they were his own children or grandchildren, were discarded without hesitation. Was he ever the kind of affectionate elder who doted on his grandchildren? Compared to his own immortality, familial affection was trivial. This eldest grandson, once filled with promise, had been given a rare second chance. The first was during his coming-of-age ceremony, when Xuan Yuan Da Pan asked him if he wished to learn martial arts. But the stubborn boy insisted on studying governance like Xun Ping of Zhizhang City, aspiring to bring peace to the world. That was tolerable enough, but Xuan Yuan Da Pan was genuinely impressed by his grandson’s talent. Even if he remained an unpolished gem, it was acceptable to keep him at home, gathering dust. Later, when Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng encountered a woman in distress and begged the family to rescue her, Xuan Yuan Da Pan gave him another chance. But this grandson, who squandered his talents, refused again. Enraged, Xuan Yuan Da Pan no longer regarded him as his eldest grandson and instead turned to nurturing Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan, who was less gifted but ambitious. Later, the woman herself requested to practice dual cultivation techniques with him. Xuan Yuan Da Pan merely went along with the flow. Since he had already decided to abandon Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng, a young and attractive daughter-in-law was just another suitable furnace for cultivation—more was better.
Xuan Yuan Da Pan calmly watched the whirlwind summoned by Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng’s powerful energy. It formed a massive funnel, its base spinning violently on the Snowy Ridge, as if reaching up to the heavens, tearing black clouds from the sky and intensifying with each passing moment.
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng extended one hand, drawing an arc, and slowly raised the other, whispering, “Rise again.”
Another colossal whirlwind erupted from the left side of the Snowy Ridge.
The heavens and earth swirled with endless sand and stone around the dragon-like vortex.
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng clenched his fists, his momentum surging without the slightest sign of exhaustion. His robe billowed like a ball of energy as his power climbed to its peak. He slowly declared, “Third rise!”
A third whirlwind rose from the right.
On the Snowy Ridge.
Three dragons drawing water!
Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s gray-white hair was blown wildly by the wind, yet he remained calm. “Stealing the power of heaven—this is your Heaven’s Will Realm? Such a trick may intimidate others, but to harm me? Hilarious!”
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng said nothing. The three whirlwinds surged toward Xuan Yuan Da Pan, who stood unmoving. They converged suddenly, compressing the venerable patriarch of Huishan at the center, who did not even deign to dodge.
“Excellent!” Xuan Yuan Da Pan roared with laughter. He extended his clawed hands, plunging his left into two of the whirlwinds. The vast ocean of internal energy, accumulated over nearly a century, began to churn like a boiling cauldron. His disdain for Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng’s celestial power stemmed from his own cultivation philosophy. Broadly speaking, the sages of the three teachings had each left behind fragments of wisdom for future generations to ponder the Dao. Among them, Zhang Susheng of the North proposed that reading nurtures the grand and righteous energy of heaven and earth, and that those who are unbalanced will cry out. Thus, martial experts who entered the martial Dao through Confucianism were especially adept at resonating with heaven and earth, using their own strength to move the heavens. This was undoubtedly a magnificent spectacle, but to Xuan Yuan Da Pan, who pursued power through sheer force, it was ridiculous. This patriarch had never bowed to heaven, earth, ruler, or teacher, believing only in his own fists, much like Li Chungan, who once declared that a single sword strike would shake heaven and earth and make ghosts weep.
What nonsense was this about the Dao failing and fleeing to sea? What nonsense about enduring hardship in this life for blessings in the next? All nonsense! The more Xuan Yuan Da Pan delved into the mysteries of the three teachings, the more he reaffirmed his original path: with my own hands, even immortals, Buddhas, and demons must retreat and vanish!
Moreover, Xuan Yuan Da Pan had a clear and undeniable goal that proved his chosen path was not only viable but correct.
The King of Martial Arts City, Wang Xianzhi!
In this world, those who could rival Xuan Yuan Da Pan were few and far between. Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng, a discarded family member, was not even worthy of being his opponent.
With a roar, Xuan Yuan Da Pan tore through two of the whirlwinds. The black clouds above, deprived of their foundation, struggled briefly before dispersing and returning to the sky.
As he dealt with the last whirlwind, Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng suddenly leapt forward, leaving a crater in the ground. Like a rainbow, he pierced through the whirlwind, emerging to strike Xuan Yuan Da Pan with a palm strike.
Unfazed, Xuan Yuan Da Pan sneered, changing his claw into a fist and aiming straight for the center. Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng slightly shifted his hand, ignoring the fierce palm energy, and merely touched the back of the fist. Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s expression shifted slightly. He retracted his right fist and used his left hand to stick to the middle joint of the wrist, attempting to dislocate it. But Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng suddenly transformed his hand into a box-like shape, pressing downward diagonally, and with a sudden strike to Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s shoulder, he disrupted the elder’s balance, sending him lurching forward.
But Xuan Yuan Da Pan was a master of combat techniques. Using the momentum, he prepared to deliver a shoulder strike like Mount Tai, aiming to crush his grandson’s chest. However, the emotionless Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng deftly switched back to the grasping hand, pushing Xuan Yuan Da Pan back to his original position. For a moment, the latter, despite possessing a rare and formidable strength, found himself unable to move or stand still.
All of this happened in the blink of an eye, a rapid exchange of attack and defense.
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng struck again with a palm, and Xuan Yuan Da Pan countered with a fierce elbow strike, believing he had timed it perfectly. But Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng’s palm was merely a feint, concealing a hidden force. At the moment of impact, his energy surged like a flood breaking through a dam, faster and fiercer than Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s elbow strike, striking the latter’s chest.
A visible ripple spread between them from the impact.
Xuan Yuan Da Pan’s tall and muscular body was pushed back ten zhang!
Under the eaves of Niuniu Jiang, the wind chimes, taut and straight, finally snapped and fell to the ground.
Could Xuan Yuan Da Pan, renowned for his strength, actually be driven back?
At that moment, an old swordsman slowly ascended the Snowy Ridge, unfazed by the shocking scene. He lowered his head and announced, “Father, Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan has been killed by Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng.”
Xuan Yuan Da Pan merely hummed indifferently, watching his grandson, who was clearly determined to defy him to the end. He asked, “How many moves did it take to kill your younger brother, who had just entered the Finger-Sky Realm?”
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng, who had remained expressionless, suddenly smiled, coughing slightly as he covered his mouth and replied, slightly muffled, “I promised to kill him with the Finger-Sky Realm, but I actually used the Heaven’s Will Realm. So, just one move.”
The ancient sword Baopu on the waist of Xuan Yuan Guo Qi let out a mournful cry, his face filled with fury.
Xuan Yuan Da Pan nodded. “That final palm strike just now was the same. The earlier moves were mere distractions.”
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng, his face pale, replied calmly, “Trivial skills, of course insufficient to slay an evil dragon. May I ask, Grand Patriarch, have your hands warmed up yet? If so, Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng shall not hold back.”
Xuan Yuan Guo Qi, watching nearby, was momentarily stunned.
Xuan Yuan Da Pan let out a heartfelt laugh, pointing at Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng. “You brat, your arrogance is charming. You were always the one I valued most in all of Huishan. Truly a pity.”
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng coughed again, lifting his head to gaze at the rolling clouds. “When I was young, I read the line, ‘Ants trying to shake a great tree—how laughable their self-importance.’ At the time, I thought it was indeed laughable. But upon deeper reflection, I believe the word ‘laugh’ should be replaced with ‘respect.’”
Ants shaking a great tree—respectful self-importance?
Among the three with the “Jing” generation name in Huishan, Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan was already dead, and Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng was soon to follow.
Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng turned his gaze back, one hand behind his back, the other extended. “Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng invites the Grand Patriarch to meet his end!”
Xuan Yuan Guo Qi was instantly shocked into silence.
The once-sickly eldest son—when had he become a tiger capable of fighting his father, Xuan Yuan Da Pan?
Could even Huishan, which prided itself on its terrestrial peace, escape the fate of one mountain not being able to hold two tigers?
At Zhaoyao Mountain’s Snowy Ridge, the storm was about to break.
At the main gate, Xuan Yuan Jing Yi was truly enraged, especially after his niece Xuan Yuan Qing Feng interfered, adding fuel to the fire. Did that lazy young prince really think he had come to Huishan merely to admire the scenery? Huishan had mutual support with the nearby Dragon and Tiger Mountains, and even dared to defy the mighty Guangling King Zhao Yi, the paramount power in the southeastern empire. How dare this young prince from the distant Beiliang, who had not even inherited his title, come here to cause trouble? It was true that he harbored some apprehension toward this northern dragon who had crossed the river, but not true fear. What truly made Xuan Yuan Jing Yi hesitate to unleash his full power was not merely the empty shell of Xu Feng Nian, nor even Li Chungan, still ranked eighth in the world, but rather the crippled butcher himself.
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi cast a sidelong glance at Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, sneering, “Traitorous little slut! Just like her shameless mother, she dares to show her face here, trying to salvage the declining fortunes of the eldest branch. Isn’t it shameful for a young lady to parade herself around? First, she consorted with Yuan Ting Shan, a crude fellow from the countryside, then flirted with the Song family, the literary elite, and now even this infamous Beiliang prince? She’s disgraced the Xuan Yuan family of Niuniu Gang!”
Changing his expression to a warmer one, Xuan Yuan Jing Yi turned to his most trusted guest expert, Hong Biao. “I must trouble you, Brother Hong.”
Hong Biao replied calmly, “It is my duty.”
Inside the courtyard, the yellow-maneed youth, who had just punched off a guest expert’s head, was idly kicking the decapitated corpse’s hands, making the Huishan people shudder.
The Youth, with strength unmatched in the world, grinned when he saw Hong Biao step forward.
At that moment, a steward from the second branch rushed over in a panic. A guest expert from the third branch, harboring ill will, tripped him. The steward performed a spectacular face-plant but, ignoring the urge to glare, scrambled to his master Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s side. The steward, inexplicably chilled to the bone, trembled as he whispered into his master’s ear, “Third Master is dead.”
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi thought he had misheard and frowned. “What did you say?”
The steward’s body shook as he repeated, “Third Master, Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan, is dead.”
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s eyes widened, but he quickly suppressed his shock, striving to remain calm. “How did he die?”
The steward, hugging his chest as if to ward off the autumn chill, whispered, “The Lady says it was Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng who killed him.”
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi finally snapped, “Nonsense!”
The steward, his face twisted with Grievance, replied, “It’s true! Third Master’s body is still lying in the courtyard, and no one dares to move it.”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, who already knew the truth, allowed herself a cold smirk.
She had never felt such exhilaration.
The young prince, naturally inclined to mischief, seized the moment. Inside the courtyard, Qing Niao was chasing a fan-wielding man like a stray dog. Xu Feng Nian laughed loudly, “Qing Niao, come back! The back courtyard of Niuniu Gang is already in flames. Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng has killed Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan. Fratricide! How tragic!”
The entire crowd was in uproar.
The guest experts were not blind. Except for a few martial fanatics who were out of touch with reality, most were shrewd individuals. Considering Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s unusual behavior, they realized that the young prince’s shocking words were not far from the truth.
Was the great tree of Huishan about to fall?
If it fell, the monkeys would scatter. Those who were too slow would be crushed. Especially those who had tied their lives and fortunes to the branches, destined to die the most tragic deaths.
But would it fall? Would Huishan change?
Almost no one believed it.
Even if Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng had truly killed Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan, as long as the Grand Patriarch remained in the Niuniu Pavilion, the sky would not change!
As for how Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng managed to kill the Grandmaster Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan, no one could figure it out, so they simply stopped thinking about it and turned their attention to that young prince who had caused such a stir upon arriving at the mountain. Some clever-minded wandering martial artists secretly considered whether they could attach themselves to the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion. People always seek higher ground. Though Huishan’s martial arts manuals were numerous, could they rival the treasures of the Tingchao Pavilion? Though the Grand Patriarch’s martial arts were unfathomable, he was still confined to the martial world. Even the vast martial world was nothing compared to the Beiliang King, who once coldly looked down upon it from his horse’s back.
Suddenly, the scene completely spiraled out of control.
“Look! What’s happening at the Snowy Ridge?!”
“Could it be man-made whirlwinds?!”
“Goodness me! This is the Three Dragons Drawing Water! Has the Grand Patriarch emerged from seclusion? Is he about to ascend to heaven?!”
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi turned his head, his face dark and grim.
Xu Feng Nian seized the opportunity, spouting nonsense. “Hey, old man Xuan Yuan Jing Yi! If you don’t let me pass now, everyone will miss a once-in-a-century spectacle.”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, ever the troublemaker, added fuel to the fire. “Uncle, the prince’s visit to the mountain was arranged by my father and approved by the Grand Patriarch.”
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi hesitated. Letting that omen of disaster pass would cost him face, but if he insisted on confrontation, allowing the prince to spread rumors would destabilize Huishan’s people. Wait! Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s mind suddenly clicked. If the steward’s words were true and his third younger brother Xuan Yuan Jing Xuan was already dead, and his eldest brother had gone to the Snowy Ridge to seek his own death, and his father Xuan Yuan Guo Qi had no interest in becoming the family head, then after the Grand Patriarch ascended to immortality, who would rule Huishan with absolute authority? What a fortunate coincidence! Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s heart leaped with joy, though he still feigned hesitation.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s decision.
“Is it going to rain?” Xu Feng Nian looked up at the sky and smiled at Xuan Yuan Jing Yi. “Lend me a path, and maybe an umbrella. Not too much to ask, right?”
Xuan Yuan Jing Yi’s face flushed with anger, but he clearly took a step back. “Go get an umbrella,” he ordered a nearby steward.
Xu Feng Nian led his entire entourage to the Snowy Ridge, but Xuan Yuan Jing Yi only brought his trusted experts Hong Biao and Huang Fang Fo.
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng walked last.
Unbidden memories surfaced—scenes she thought she had long forgotten.
That man, who once joked that a day without reading made his meals tasteless, had personally taught her how to read, saying that opening any book brought benefit, even if one did not seek deep understanding. He taught her how to write, how to compose essays, saying that at the beginning of a book, one could use clever phrases to astonish the reader, even if the ending was weak. He once let her ride on his shoulders, laughing and saying that a good dog is not one that barks loudly, and a virtuous person is not one who speaks well. One should learn to be like a dog before becoming a good person. Many of his words and actions had been incomprehensible to her as a child. When she grew older and could finally understand, she had only prejudice and disdain for him, mocking his poetry and writings: “When spring comes, I do not speak first; which insect dares to make a sound?” “The river rises and falls easily, the wall grass bends left and right, the small-minded man is fickle.” “Eat tea, eat rice, eat hardship, eat bitterness. To be able to eat is a blessing; to eat more is beneficial…”
Now, reading and rereading these words, Xuan Yuan Qing Feng found herself weeping silently.
At the Snowy Ridge, the storm raged, lightning flashed, and thunder roared.
Torrential rain poured down, drenching the group.
Huishan seemed to be at the end of its fate.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage