Xu Fengnian burst out of the massive vortex of the land tornado, shouting “A Sword to Shake the Heavens.” His body, propelled by the force, continued to rise into the sky. At the apex, he crossed his legs and sat, like a celestial being frozen in meditation at the gates of heaven, watching clouds rise and fall. It was perhaps the most carefree scene ever witnessed on earth.
Xu Fengnian gazed outward; endless seas of clouds stretched before him.
After the surge of exhilaration, his body plummeted straight down, piercing through the golden clouds bathed in divine light. Within moments, the land tornado had already receded half a mile away. Xu Fengnian finally ceased his pretense of being a Buddha. Directing his will, the sword Chaolu flew from his sleeve. He stretched out his limbs and lightly tapped the flying sword with the tip of his foot, slightly slowing his descent. If he had summoned other swords still tethered by his internal energy, breaking the flow would have made his fall unstoppable. Thus, with repeated taps and pauses, he gradually reduced his falling speed.
When he was about one hundred zhang from the ground, Xu Fengnian, falling from the clouds, suddenly drew the sword Chunqiu and slashed with the “Shaking Heaven” technique. Fifty zhang later, eleven flying swords emerged together, forming a slanted heavenly ladder in the air. He stepped onto each sword’s blade, while the Huangting energy surged through his body, making his headscarf and sleeves flutter—a truly ethereal sight.
The subtlety of Huangting lay in sowing a single seed that filled the granary; at every moment the energy paused, new energy was born, allowing him to draw the sword Chunqiu. An ordinary Realm of the Indestructible warrior falling from such a height would likely leave a massive crater and suffer internal injuries. Within ten zhang of the ground, Xu Fengnian had exhausted his tricks. He tried to lift his energy one last time, and nearly instantly upon touching the ground, he bent his legs to absorb the impact. Dust rose in clouds. Xu Fengnian, still carrying his book chest, rolled out of the dust cloud, looking rather disheveled.
He looked up at the sky and clouds, as if gazing between heaven and earth.
After a few breaths, his energy replenished, Xu Fengnian sprinted forward again, charging toward the colossal land tornado connecting heaven and earth. As before, he cleaved through its wall with Chunqiu, and once inside, he continued slashing at countless boulders, stepping on stones to ascend, riding the air to float upward. He burst once more from the dark, suffocating vortex of the land tornado. This time, Xu Fengnian did not pause in the clouds to admire the view like an immortal. Instead, he deliberately inhaled deeply, allowing the vortex to pull his body toward it. With the “Shaking Heaven” sword technique, he slashed his way downward.
The demon Luo Yang once said, “If gods or Buddhas oppose me, I shall slay them.” Deng Tai’a had also remarked that Li Chungan’s sword path was to carve through mountains and rivers when met with obstacles. Xu Fengnian refused to believe he couldn’t sever a rootless land tornado. Ascending was natural; though flying boulders like arrows were numerous, they mostly followed predictable paths. But descending was perilous—rolling stones became countless deadly projectiles. Fortunately, Xu Fengnian had once endured the relentless rain needles controlled by the blind woman Xue Songguan’s zither strings. He Hardshiply advanced to the middle of the tornado, changing his breath several times, barely holding on. He gritted his teeth and persisted a little longer, but finally, unwilling to gamble with his life, he reversed course and soared upward with the flow. He leapt out of the vortex, only to fall back in, once again experiencing the sensation of being attacked by five hundred cavalry outside Dunhuang’s gates. During this descent, he was scraped and bruised by debris, bleeding profusely. Fortunately, he managed to nourish his sword even as he was thrown out the third time—blood wasted would be a shame. Amidst suffering, he found joy, a tale worthy of song and tears.
Thus, Xu Fengnian drifted northward with the land tornado. While others traveled by horse or boat, riding a tornado must surely be unprecedented. Yet, upon entering Beiman, he recalled hearing in Feihu City of the Daoist Qilin Zhenren of the Moral Sect crossing thirteen peaks on a single reed, and the legendary feat of Tuoba Busa standing on a whale and crossing the sea. Compared to these two, Xu Fengnian wasn’t far behind.
All things have life and death. After nourishing six swords, Xu Fengnian noticed the tornado weakening, no longer as forceful as before. He began repeatedly slashing at the vortex wall with “A Sword to Shake the Heavens,” hastening the tornado’s dissipation. When finally thrown from the vortex, Xu Fengnian suddenly gathered his energy, rising high above the clouds. He gazed at the setting sun, its golden rays piercing through purple clouds, creating a serene, picturesque scene. Xu Fengnian was entranced. At that moment, a thought crossed his mind: Had she, wielding her sword, ever seen such a sight?
Returning to the mortal world, Xu Fengnian slashed the weakened tornado with Chunqiu’s “Shaking Heaven” technique. Landing should have been uneventful, but Xu Fengnian, still lost in thought, was suddenly kicked from behind, face-planting into the dirt. Though he reacted slightly, he couldn’t evade the ambush. Fortunately, the kick lacked intent to kill. Xu Fengnian slid a long distance along the ground, his tattered clothes now completely ruined. Rising, he saw the last person he ever wished to meet—another Huang Baozhuang, Luo Yang! Amid the golden dusk, on the yellow sands, a figure in white robes danced in the wind.
Xu Fengnian’s heart sank. Facing Tuoba Chunsun and the blind zither player had never been this troublesome. He forced himself to suppress his fear, neither retreating nor fleeing—not because mastering the “Shaking Heaven” technique had given him courage to face death, but because the kick revealed something that prevented him from running away.
Indeed, the female demon, Luo Yang, spoke plainly: “Come with me to the ice plains. I will kill Tuoba Busa, and the treasures will be yours.”
Without hesitation, Xu Fengnian nodded: “Fine!”
Refusing would almost certainly mean death. Circumstances outweighed personal will. Xu Fengnian had no choice but to comply, as long as this female Yama didn’t demand he kill himself with Chunqiu. Luo Yang seemed satisfied with Xu Fengnian’s prompt agreement and walked ahead. Xu Fengnian followed, maintaining a distance of exactly ten zhang behind. This ensured that if she suddenly decided to kill him, he wouldn’t be struck down instantly, at least giving him a chance to fight back.
Focusing on her slender back, she wore a white robe that largely obscured her gender, her hair pinned with a wooden hairpin. When he first met her in Dunhuang, unless he had seen the face of the Qijian Yufu woman Huang Baozhuang up close, Xu Fengnian would never have recognized her as female. She exuded too much killing intent, too much masculine vigor—perhaps mistaken only as a wealthy man with a feminine appearance, as fortune-tellers often described.
During his travels, pretending to be a fortune-teller for money, Xu Fengnian often smiled at unattractive men, saying, “Young sir, your appearance is quite distinguished. A southerner with a northerner’s features—surely destined for great wealth and honor.” But there was always a twist, always an “However,” otherwise, he wouldn’t have coaxed copper coins from their pockets.
After three years of hardship, Xu Fengnian summarized two great difficulties: one, getting another man’s wife into one’s bed; two, getting another’s copper coins into one’s pocket. Unfortunately encountering Luo Yang after the Luminous Pearl shattered by Deng Tai’a, Xu Fengnian had no thoughts of petty gain.
Luo Yang slightly slowed her pace, reducing the distance to nine zhang. Xu Fengnian quietly increased it back to ten. When it became nine again, Xu Fengnian ceased adjusting, allowing her to gradually close the gap to three zhang. This woman, after battling across Beiman and entering the top ten martial experts, defeated Hong Jingyan to become the fourth strongest in the world. Though she lost her third match to Deng Tai’a, stopping at fourth place, since she dared to challenge Tuoba Busa, perhaps her battle with Deng Tai’a hadn’t been an all-out fight. She used rain swords against Deng Tai’a’s swords, and before that, the world knew the demon Luo Yang killed mercilessly, yet never witnessed her using a sword. Thus, her greatest terror lay not in her rank, but in her youth and rapid progress. Clearly, she followed the same path as Wang Xianzhi and Tuoba Busa—growing stronger through battle.
Luo Yang, back turned to Xu Fengnian, spoke calmly: “You’re going to the site where the Wu family swordsmen perished?”
Xu Fengnian replied softly: “Yes.”
Luo Yang said calmly: “Then we’ll meet in Daeo City, Baoping Province, in twenty days.”
With that, she vanished.
Xu Fengnian, having met Luo Yang and made a pact, felt a heavy burden on his heart. He stood still, watching her graceful figure disappear into the distance, his expression darkening. He sighed deeply. On the road to Wu’s nine swords defeating ten thousand riders, he had already encountered a demon—extremely unlucky. Next, he could only hope for no further misfortunes. As this thought arose, Xu Fengnian, who had been a jinx in Dunhuang before, slapped himself hard. Removing his book chest, he changed into another set of clothes and continued walking toward Xihedao.
In Dunhuang, Hongshu had mentioned the site’s condition. Two hundred years ago, when the Wu family’s elite swordsmen completed their near-suicidal feat, Beiman did not vent anger on the fallen warriors’ bodies. Instead, they were buried honorably, each with a tomb, a stele, and a sword. Several sword attendants who hadn’t accompanied them later entered Beiman, living out their days tending graves. Even the Beiman cavalry stationed at the battlefield did not harm the sword attendants. After their deaths, descendants of the Wu family continued maintaining the graves. This sharply contrasted with the Central Plains practice of exhuming and whipping the corpses of enemies. When Central Plains scholars discussed customs between the two kingdoms, they only spoke of the northern barbarians as uncivilized, conveniently ignoring this aspect.
Xu Fengnian counted the journey on his fingers, arriving at his destination in Xihedao. To his amusement, perhaps too many sword practitioners had come to admire the site, leading to a bustling market around the small basin spanning three or four miles. Stalls selling wine, tea, and fruits lined the edges. Without exception, regardless of their primary business, each stall stacked piles of martial arts manuals, most related to Wu family sword techniques. Titles were intimidating: “The Nine Swords of the Wu Immortals,” “The Ten Greatest Sword Techniques of the Sword Tombs,” and others like “Wang Xianzhi’s Eighteen Ultimate Techniques.” All were designed to scare buyers, mostly crudely made, with poorly written characters. Xu Fengnian spent a few copper coins on a bag of dried fruits from Xihedao. Picking up a book titled “Missing This Book Will Regret for Life” from a nearby stall, the vendor, a short, shifty-eyed middle-aged man, immediately spoke enthusiastically: “Young hero, this manual is extraordinary. Reading it and practicing for a few years will surely make you a third-grade martial artist. Don’t look at those stalls selling Wu family sword techniques—they exaggerate, deceiving people with conscience. In this world, how could anyone become a sword immortal by glancing at a book? Here, it’s truly worth the price. This《Buffalo Kung Fu》is the ultimate technique of the Xuanyuan family in Liyang. Though not famous, it’s genuine and practical. I see young hero’s bone structure is unique, clearly a martial genius. This manual originally priced at six taels, I’ll sell it to you at half price—three taels! Just three taels!”
Xu Fengnian ate the dried fruits, looking at the vendor holding up three fingers, merely smiling.
Soon, the neighboring stall’s burly man countered, sitting on a chair with his legs crossed, cracking sunflower seeds while sneering: “《Buffalo Kung Fu》? I’ve got a pile of them unsold. Not three taels, thirty copper coins, buy one get one free. Young sir interested?”
The short vendor turned and shouted: “Zhang Dapeng, you asking for a beating?”
The muscular man threw sunflower seeds at him, stood up, flexed his muscles, and roared: “San Shu, who beats who?!”
The vendor called San Shu retreated, muttering. Seeing Xu Fengnian put down the incomprehensible book, the muscular man immediately switched to a cheerful face, calling out: “Young sir, come here, come here. I’m known here for being honest. Even if no deal is made, friendship remains. Feel free to choose any manual. If you don’t achieve great power in three years, I’ll compensate double. Look at this《Sword Opens the Heavenly Gate》, recording the old swordsman Li Chungan’s famous technique. Look at this exquisite binding, the paper quality, the handwriting—clearly authentic. If you find an identical copy nearby, I’ll twist my head off and give it to you as a chamber pot.”
Xu Fengnian walked over and took the manual. Clearly, it was more carefully made than the densely packed manuals sold by ordinary vendors. Thinking for a moment, he asked: “How much?”
The man, originally intending to say one tael, held back, noticing San Shu planning retaliation from the corner of his eye. He glared, scaring the bastard into silence, then hesitated briefly before forcing a sincere smile: “Ninety copper coins. I never haggle here!”
Xu Fengnian reached into his nearly empty money pouch, pulling out about thirty copper coins, expressionless: “That’s all I have.”
The burly man hurriedly half-took the coins: “Friendship is important, friendship is important. Young sir’s intention matters. Thirty coins will do. Zhang Dapeng is not a money-grabbing person.”
Xu Fengnian placed the manual into his book chest. The vendor Zhang Dapeng couldn’t help but flatter the young customer with a long sword on his back: “Clearly a sword expert, future achievements immeasurable. If you become famous one day, don’t forget to mention Zhang Dapeng’s《Sword Opens the Heavenly Gate》.”
Xu Fengnian nodded with a smile: “Certainly, certainly.”
Seeing him turn to leave, Zhang Dapeng hastily scooped a handful of sunflower seeds from a bowl, smiling: “Don’t mind, this can pass time. Slowly crack them while walking. Maybe you’ll find a few ultimate manuals.”
The site was enclosed by a fence, with stalls set up along its perimeter. Xu Fengnian slowly walked halfway around, encountering no extraordinary figures radiating divine aura. He saw a ragged old man sandwiched between two stalls, in front of him only a cotton cloth, on which lay a few scattered manuals. Probably, business had been cold for years. The shabby old man squatted, dozing off. His two neighbors, one selling wine and one selling tea, had decent business, each with Three or four tables of customers.
Xu Fengnian noticed a wine table occupied only by a young couple, their demeanor outstanding among the basin crowd. He walked over and smiled, asking if he could share the seat. The man in satin clothing frowned, about to refuse, but the pretty woman in golden hairpins gently pressed his hand, softly saying: “Young sir, please be seated.”
Xu Fengnian waved to the tavern owner, casually asking the wine price. Here, selling entire wine jars was rare; it was usually sold by weight and bowl count, all inferior wines barely drinkable, quenching thirst at best, difficult to get drunk. Xu Fengnian ordered a bowl of cheap “Xinghuacun” white wine. Leaning over, he looked at the ragged old man’s few books on worn cotton cloth—nothing special, just trend-following martial arts manuals, nothing innovative. The arrogant young man at the table sneered at this scene, his eyes filled with disdain.
The tavern owner brought a bowl of cheap wine dregs, kindly kicking the old neighbor lightly, grumbling: “Mind your business.”
The squatting old man was startled awake, his eyes murky. Seeing a wine guest looking at his manuals, he hurriedly smiled awkwardly. This smile revealed his missing front tooth, making him look comically absurd.
The drinking man snorted, while the pretty woman stifled a laugh.
Xu Fengnian, holding a bowl of wine, left the bench and squatted before the ragged cloth, smiling: “How much for these books?”
The old man scratched his gray-white hair, grinning foolishly: “Young sir decides, a few coins are fine. They’re all fake anyway.”
Xu Fengnian took out the last six or seven copper coins from his pouch, handing them to the toothless old man. The latter didn’t mind the low price, smiling as he accepted, neatly stacking Four or five manuals and handing them to the young gentleman.
Seeing his stinginess, the man at the table looked even more disdainfully, while the woman felt this young scholar wasted his elegant appearance, lacking in character. Halfway through drinking, she and her companion left the tavern.
Unaffected, Xu Fengnian returned to the wine table, opened his book chest, placed the manuals inside, rummaged around, seemingly delighted at finding treasures. He waved to the tavern owner, smiling: “Boss, any better yellow wine? Price doesn’t matter, two bowls.”
The owner beamed, increasingly attentive: “Yes, yes, coming right up.”
After a brief wait, Xu Fengnian received two bowls of yellow wine from the owner, returned to the toothless old man, handed him a bowl, and asked in authentic Dongyue accent: “From Dongyue originally, old brother?”
The old man dared not accept the wine bowl at first, but upon hearing the familiar accent, he accepted it, surprised: “Indeed!”
Xu Fengnian put down his wine bowl, took a manual from his book chest, secretly inserting a fifty taels silver note, sat cross-legged facing the old man, smiling: “Old brother, keep one.”
The old man didn’t refuse, smiling as he accepted, thinking this refined young gentleman was truly kind.
People came and went, bustling.
An old and a young man sat together, not speaking much, just slowly sipping wine.
After finishing the wine, Xu Fengnian paid the tavern owner and left with his book chest.
The book-selling old man felt delighted. In his spare time, he moistened his fingers, hummed a small tune while flipping the book, suddenly widening his eyes—silver note?
The toothless old man opened his mouth wide, staring at the back figure of the young man with a sword and book chest, quickly closing the not-so-secret manual, shocked yet puzzled.
That day, Xu Fengnian approached the Wu family swordsman’s tomb, close yet not entering.
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