Xu Fengnian, relying on his newly attained King Kong physique, squeezed himself into the herd of oxen, yet still suffered greatly. A slight misstep led to violent collisions with the powerful wild bulls, leaving him tossed about like a cuju ball. Despite his stubborn nature, Xu Fengnian refused to easily leap out of the herd. Many times he was swept off his feet and instantly trampled by dozens of wild oxen. These white-hoofed beasts often weighed two or three thousand jin, making the experience unbearable. Eventually, he flipped an ox’s hoof and leapt onto its back. Fortunately, the mirage-like protection conjured from the Dahuang Hall safeguarded him; otherwise, he would have been left nearly naked or forced to lie or sit on the ox’s back to rest or cultivate his sword. Then, he would recklessly jump back into the narrow gaps between the herd, continuing to slide like a fish. Initially, each collision with the oxen left him in a mess, provoking his temper until he nearly wished to unleash sword qi to obliterate dozens or hundreds of the beasts. Suppressing his frustration, he finally grasped the art of moving with the herd by harmonizing with the Dahuang Hall techniques. When the herd rested, he distanced himself, sitting alone in meditation while commanding his sword to fly. Once, when a pack of wolves targeted a calf, Xu Fengnian did not kill them but stomped his foot with such force that it seemed to shake the heavens, scaring the wolves away. After several days of ups and downs, Xu Fengnian exuded the aura and scent of the oxen, almost becoming one of them, accepted by many in the herd.
When Xu Fengnian once again passed through the entire herd from the rear and finally led them in a charge, the herd followed him for more than ten miles.
Seeing a vast expanse of lush grassland, Xu Fengnian lay on the lakeside meadow, panting heavily and contentedly. He had finally grasped the essence of the sixth page of the sword manual, realizing how narrow-minded he had been about the technique initially. If combined with the rolling sword technique, it would be like fish in water, complementing each other perfectly. Turning to look at the Chunlei hanging at his waist, he mockingly said, “Chunlei and Xiudong are a pair of sisters. After parting ways, you unfortunately followed me, the good-for-nothing, while Xiudong stayed with the White Fox. I mustn’t disgrace you too much.”
Xu Fengnian took off his black long robe and white undergarment, bent over to wash them in the lake, revealing the soft silk armor on his body, a treasure coveted by martial artists. The armor had once been pierced by a hand strike from the Haha Girl at the chest, but after returning to Beiliang, the skilled craftsmen of the Jujige quickly mended it. This secret organization was now likely busy repairing the several lost Fujiang armor sets. The formidable combat power of the Beiliang army owed much to the efforts of the Mohist leader and the Jujige. The armor had twelve sword sheaths, each storing a flying sword. Before entering the north, Xu Fengnian could control only four or five swords at most. After battling the demon Xie Ling in Liucheng, observing the lotus blooming in the city, he had an epiphany, opened another meridian, and during the confrontation with the wild oxen in the canyon, he broke through the Jue, opening three new meridians. Now, he could control eight or nine swords. Xu Fengnian spread his clothes on the grass, sat cross-legged, and controlled nine flying swords, creating a dazzling display. The reason why good arithmetic skills benefit martial cultivation is precisely because each flying sword requires different focuses on the flow of energy, thickness, and pathways, demanding the swordsman to divide his mind into nine parts. Of course, this does not mean that Xu Fengnian is only three swords away from the previous swordsman, Deng Ta’a. Controlling swords and commanding swords differ by only one character, but they remain an insurmountable barrier.
The nine flying swords in the air were Qingmei, with a curved blade and green body; Zhuma, segmented like bamboo; Chaolu, shining brilliantly when sunlight reflected on it; and Chunsui, whose eyes sparkled like a young beauty’s gaze. Taohua had a pink blade, as seductive as a charming beauty; Wubing Emei was as fine as a single black thread; Tidu Pifu was the smallest but sharpest; Zhuque had a red glow flowing along its blade; and finally, Huangtong, a broad yellow blade. Each of the nine swords had its unique qualities. The other three swords, Xuanjia, Ta’a, and Jinlu, were even more remarkable, especially Ta’a, which was said to have a qi that could reach the stars. Xu Fengnian dared not easily control them. The twelve swords were like beautiful women, each with different temperaments. Qingmei, Zhuma, Chaolu, and Chunsui were like neighborhood girls, easy to cultivate. Taohua, Emei, Zhuque, and Huangtong were like noble ladies, requiring more time to master. The other three were like peerless beauties, stubborn and unyielding. Xu Fengnian diligently served them daily, but their growth was painfully slow. However, after incorporating the golden blood of the Buddha, Emei fell, and the others followed suit, except for Jinlu, which almost instantly achieved half of its sword embryo, a tremendous surprise. After cultivating Jinlu, the golden glow in his blood completely faded, giving Xu Fengnian a sense of relief. He couldn’t sacrifice the other eleven swords just to cultivate Jinlu; that would be too wasteful.
As Xu Fengnian wielded his flying swords to cut through the water grass, he wondered what Deng Ta’a would think upon seeing this scene. After exhausting himself, he recalled the nine swords into their sheaths, smiled, leaned back, crossed his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, dozing off. Through his association with the geomancy master Yao Jian, he had learned some basic skills in tasting soil and water, and gained some knowledge about dragon veins. Yao Jian had said that the world’s dragons originated from Kunlun, with three main branches: one heading to Tai’an, one to the East Sea, and one into the north. The Qingnang geographical text mentioned that old mountains lacked vitality while young mountains had auspicious energy, hence the practice of searching mountains for young dragons. The closer to Kunlun, the more difficult it was for western-born dynasties to arise in accordance with the times. Without delving into the political aspects, in terms of feng shui, the initial placement of Xu Xiao, the heteronymous king, to garrison Beiliang against the north, and the deployment of the imperial clansmen, the Yan Chi and Guang Ling princes, to the southeast to suppress the dragon energy, reflected the hidden self-interest of the Zhao family emperor, who wanted outsiders to guard the gates and family members to watch over the treasures. Among them, because the Guang Ling prince shared the same parents with the current emperor, he was stationed in the East Sea area, showing great thoughtfulness. However, the theories of dynastic fortune and personal destiny often had many contradictions. Li Yishan was particularly resistant to these ideas, and as a result, Yao Jian was also scolded several times.
Xu Fengnian suddenly stood up, dressed himself, and then saw a middle-aged Taoist priest approaching, dressed differently from the Central Plains’ Taoist attire. Upon seeing him, the priest merely glanced at the Chunlei and then showed no further interest. The priest had a mustache shaped like the Chinese character ‘ba’ ( Bushy Eyebrows), almond-shaped eyes ( Apricot eyes), wore a short brown robe, had a multi-colored silk sash tied around his waist, and carried a sword with an ancient copper pattern on its sheath. His appearance was refined and had the bearing of a celestial being. In the accent of the Southern Court of the north, he asked, “Have you seen an old monk carrying a bamboo staff?”
Xu Fengnian calmly shook his head and said, “I have not seen him.”
The middle-aged Taoist priest smiled, but his smile was cold. “Oh? Then you must be a spy from Beiliang.”
In the north, Taoism was the state religion. The Qilin Immortal of the Moral Sect was a highly revered national teacher with a status as lofty as the heavens. The great Taoist had six disciples, all of whom were regarded by the north as rain-bringing immortals. Before the Empress of the north ascended the throne, Taoism was not prominent, and Buddhism was flourishing. Since the Qilin Immortal was honored as the national teacher, it was said that the emperor wrote a yellow paper edict, and 316 people were granted titles at the same time. As a result, Buddhism gradually declined, and Daoist temples of all sizes sprang up like mushrooms after rain in the northern imperial city. Hundreds of Daoist priests of the Moral Sect rose to prominence, most of them advancing rapidly in rank and being revered as honored guests by high officials and nobles, wielding the power to decide life and death with a single word.
Xu Fengnian expressed surprise and asked, “Master Dao, are you from the Moral Sect? I have often heard of the miraculous deeds of the Moral Sect’s immortals in Gusezhou. Could they all be false?”
The sword-bearing Daoist priest sneered, “Buddhism preaches equality among all beings, but has it ever truly been equal? I know I have no hope of attaining the Dao. What I do while traveling through the empire is to cut down evildoers with a single sword.”
Xu Fengnian, seemingly forced by circumstances to bow his head, Helplessly said, “I indeed saw an old monk heading north. He asked me for half a bag of water. The old monk said he was from the Liuchansi Temple and was going to the Qilin Monastery to discuss Buddhism with the national teacher.”
The almond-eyed Daoist priest listened to every word and, with a cold snort, floated away.
Xu Fengnian waited until the Daoist’s figure disappeared, confirming that there was no possibility of him returning or hiding, before allowing his qi to surge forth. With a contraction and expansion, the calm surface of the small lake beside him erupted, creating ripples that spread out in waves. Xu Fengnian knew from these few days of swimming among the cattle that he had reached the initial stage of the King Kong body. He was not surprised. Below the second level, martial artists were judged by how much armor they could break, and reaching the second level was already a great fortune, enough to be called a prodigy. Scattered throughout the world, they were seen as dominant figures, revered by ordinary people as invincible masters. However, only after entering the first level did one realize that previous achievements were but fragments of the whole. Once the grand picture of a thousand miles unfolded, it was truly a breathtaking sight. Just like Xu Fengnian’s current swordsmanship, a sword might fly past, but he no longer focused solely on where the flying sword finally stopped. He could also vaguely see the arc and trajectory of the sword’s movement before. Xu Fengnian guessed that once he reached the Zhixuan level, he might be able to predict the sword’s path in the next instant. As for the profound mysteries of the Tianxiang level in the first tier, he could not even begin to fathom them. Xu Fengnian looked at the lake surface gradually returning to calm and murmured to himself, “Food must be eaten one bite at a time, and a woman’s clothes must be removed one piece at a time. The Reason that Wen Hua spoke of always makes sense.”
Now that he had grasped the swimming fish technique, Xu Fengnian did not disturb the herd of oxen and rested by the lake for a day and night. He then took the opportunity to focus on cultivating the sword embryo of Jinlu, which was far ahead of the others.
The great path is elusive and hard to find, even the sages say that the path cannot be pursued by floating on the sea. The sword path is no different. The sword tomb of the Wu family takes a unique approach, seeking the Dao through techniques, not pursuing the mystical realm of exhaling a sword, but diligently climbing to the peak of sword techniques. Sword cultivation is one such unique and beautiful path. Xu Fengnian, having obtained twelve flying swords outside the Wudi City, was fortunate to cultivate them all at once, like a madman, tirelessly enjoying the process. It could not be considered a waste of talent, living up to the gift of his new sword god uncle. As for when he would be able to control the sword to take a head, Xu Fengnian would only allow himself a few moments of secret joy in his idle time, not daring to hope for instant success. The old abbot, the holy monk Longshu, praised his exceptional talent, but Xu Fengnian neither belittled himself nor became arrogant. He simply smiled, knowing that Li Chungan and the White Fox were already ahead of him, giving him no reason to be proud.
Xu Fengnian walked slowly along the lake, his internal qi previously seeking complexity, following the rolling sword qi, and upon entering the King Kong stage, returning to simplicity, beginning to seek simplicity by running his qi with the swimming fish technique. He didn’t know how long he had walked when he suddenly heard the distant sound of a Qiang flute.
Looking up, he saw a group of nomadic herders building black and white tents and large and small felt tents near the water. Every time the ice and snow melted, the grassland herders would drive their carts to find new pastures for their livestock. From April to August, the climate was warm, and the grasslands were lush, making it the golden season for herding. However, the life of nomadic herders was not as free and easy as outsiders imagined. The migration of the northern grassland tribes in the north had to follow the rules established by the Xiti. They could only set up camps on the grasslands within the borders. Although the grasslands were vast, the pastures were already divided among the various Xiti. The most noble and powerful were the royal clans, with vast territories. Only a few tribes that had saved the lives of the kings and princes of the north in previous generations had the right to roam freely. Generally speaking, even in times of drought, withered grass, and winter snowstorms, tribal Xiti would not allow herders from neighboring tribes to enter their territory to seek refuge and protect their livestock. Therefore, there were constant internal conflicts on the grasslands. Even the great Xiti of the royal household would engage in fierce battles, spilling blood everywhere, until the Empress of the north ascended the throne and worked to suppress the Xiti of the Yelü and Murong clans, improving the situation slightly.
Following the melodious sound of the Qiang flute, Xu Fengnian saw the graceful back of a woman facing the lake, playing the flute. She puffed her cheeks to change her breath, playing a solo that was both graceful and sorrowful. Xu Fengnian was well-versed in music, but not very familiar with the Qiang flute. There were a few high-quality Qiang flutes made of Sichuan Min bamboo in his mansion, and only the senior maid Hongshu in the Wutong Garden was skilled in playing it. Xu Fengnian stood and listened for a long time, feeling a touch of melancholy. In the quiet of the night, he had indeed missed the scene of sleeping peacefully with his head on Hongshu’s thighs. The elasticity of those beautiful legs, Tsk tsk. Xu Fengnian quickly swallowed, silently reciting Daoist mantras to calm his mind, only to find that not thinking about it was better. When he deliberately tried to achieve a pure state of mind, his internal energy surged instead. Having entered the King Kong stage, the Dahuang Hall’s sealing of the golden casket became almost irrelevant, and for a moment, the young prince felt his old lecherous habits returning.
Xu Fengnian had a headache. There were only two paths before him: either act like a beast dragging a woman into a field, or be a Fool who strictly adheres to etiquette in a Under the melon patch and beneath the plum tree situation, not even as good as a beast.
The young prince was very depressed, both in his heart and in his pants.
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