Chapter 375: The Two Edicts

Tiemeng Pass to the east was ideal for cavalry charges, naturally a place where death came easily.

Two hundred light cavalry faced off against eight hundred, and the two hundred imperial guards fought without fear.

Unlike in previous years, when the sons of aristocrats in the capital had infiltrated this royal unit to enjoy golden rice bowls, after Zhang Julu assumed power, he personally reviewed the guards’ records. Any descendants related to ministers or generals were expelled within a single day. On that day, the camp emptied overnight, and many scions of military families who had joined through genuine merit were also forced out. This made Zhang Julu deeply unpopular among the capital’s officials and generals. Several veteran commanders from the Spring and Autumn era cursed him bitterly when they met, and one old general, who lived on the same street, even blocked Zhang’s gate to confront the purple-bearded man, demanding to know why Zhang, with his grandson’s martial prowess, refused to let him serve as an ordinary imperial guard. Zhang stepped out and blandly replied that while the grandson indeed had the ability to serve, his great-grandson would certainly lack such capability. He was merely closing the door twenty years early. The old general, still holding a high post at the time, failed to grasp the subtle reasoning behind those refined words. Fortunately, he dared not physically confront the prime minister, but he resolved never to associate with him again. The previously amicable families even canceled a long-planned wedding. It was only years later, after retiring from his high-ranking position, that the old general finally visited Zhang’s home to apologize.

The black-clothed youth leapt past Fengzi Camp commander Yuan Meng and Qingniao, confronting a middle-aged martial artist who had charged from the cavalry formation. This imperial guard carried a saber but did not use it. Xu Longxiang seized the man’s arms with both hands, twisting them until the once-muscular limbs withered into shocking, skin-covered bones. Once freed, the guard immediately retaliated, attempting to tear off the thin youth’s hands. Xu Longxiang allowed the attack, then suddenly kicked out. The middle-aged guard, who had secretly protected Prince Zhao Kai all the way, had intended to trade his life for Xu’s arms, tearing them off and enduring the kick to the chest. But as the guard’s arms swelled to the size of large bowls with explosive force, the youth remained unmoved. Instantly, the guard released his grip, pushed down on Xu’s foot, and used the momentum to leap into the air, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow. The martial artist, from a hidden sect, crossed his legs mid-air, as if climbing stairs. But as fast as he was, Xu was faster, grabbing one ankle and yanking the man down. As the youth raised his knee, the guard, who had studied secret manuals within the palace for years, attempted a powerful elbow strike, only to be struck in the abdomen by the knee. His muscular body flew backward, but the cavalry behind him, skilled riders, quickly veered aside. The guard clawed the ground with his fingers like hooks, carving a several-meter-long trench before halting his retreat. Blood seeped from his lips as he stood, his eyes showing a flicker of fear.

If scholars could sell their talents to the imperial household, then naturally many top martial artists would also wish to offer their skills to the court. Unlike the powerless Xu family of Beiliang, serving in the capital’s palace truly meant rising from commoners to nobility. This yellow-robed imperial guard, granted a golden saber by the emperor, was among the most accomplished. On one visit home, his former sect had suffered under the combined pressure of the local governor and general. Upon his triumphant return, wearing yellow robes, the situation reversed completely. The opportunistic governor had an elderly scholar write a plaque for the sect, which he personally sent to be displayed at the sect’s headquarters. Though the guard had initially intended to let bygones be bygones due to palace regulations, afterward, he brought his sect’s senior master’s direct disciple to the capital, who barely managed to become the second yellow-robed golden-saber guard.

The middle-aged golden-saber guard slowly exhaled, joining several others in surrounding the black-clothed youth. In his heart, he thought, even if he died here today, it would still be worth it for the sake of his sect.

Xu Longxiang strode forward in a straight line, his eyes fixed on the woman wearing a white kasaya.

Qingniao charged first, her spear, Moment (Zhina), deflecting an enemy rider’s thrust. With a flick of her wrist, she employed the “drag” and “arc” techniques, piercing the rider’s back as the supposed one-on-one clash ended. Her arc-spear swept back, cleaving the imperial guard’s body in two. She did not linger, and though more guards blocked her spear, she simply charged straight toward the carriage.

The first wave of combatants clashed, and over thirty corpses rolled to the ground.

Like two blades slicing through flesh.

The two wounds continued to widen rapidly.

Yuan Meng speared an enemy rider, lifting the armored man high into the air with a single thrust.

The still-living cavalry twisted mid-air, attempting to land and draw his sword for another fight.

Unfortunately, before landing, his head was cleanly severed by a passing White Horse Righteous Cavalry (White Horse Volunteer).

Yuan Meng laughed heartily, “Hong Henzi, this head is yours! Don’t be stingy this time—buy your Commander Yuan a good feast!”

Hong Shuwen muttered emotionlessly, “Make me deputy commander and I’ll treat you to a courtesan’s company.”

Yuan Meng, with keen hearing, caught the words even amidst the chaos of galloping horses and clashing swords, and laughed back, “Dream on! Bring me ten kills before you ask again!”

Hong Shuwen twisted his Beiliang saber into an upside-down position, ducked under a spear thrust, and used the momentum of his charging horse to slide the blade along the enemy’s spear shaft, slicing off the rider’s arm. The The Phoenix Battalion’s notorious killer then cleaved off half the man’s head.

The horse still ran forward, but the rider was already dead.

With only one Beiliang saber left at his waist, Hong Shuwen said calmly, “That’s two.”

Wang Chong glanced at a White Horse Righteous Cavalry who had died just ahead of him and gritted his teeth.

Suddenly, a red cloud passed overhead, plummeting toward the outside of Tiemeng Pass.

An imperial cavalryman, dying as he fell, faintly saw in the distance a scene of swordsmen forming a flying sword array under a national master’s command. With his last breath, he weakly cursed, “Damn you, you capital scholars! Didn’t you all say the Beiliang heir only knew how to flirt with women under moonlight and flowers?”

※※※

Xu Fengnian had seen the Thunder Pool (Thunder Pool) twice.

Outside Wudi City, Deng Tai’a’s Thunder Pool sword array had slain the celestial being Zhao Xunsu.

Inside the tomb of the Yellow Emperor of the Qin dynasty, the Thunder Pool had been unraveled by the demonic master Luo Yang.

One created, one destroyed.

Xu Fengnian had thus formed his own Thunder Pool of flying swords.

He had once told Xu Beizhi that within a few zhang of the Thunder Pool, flying swords could kill with ease—no exaggeration.

The sickly black-robed monk had initially paid little heed to the young heir of Beiliang’s words about revenge. A martial artist whose internal energy flowed sluggishly—let alone someone like Yang Taishui, even a second-tier expert could easily overpower Xu Fengnian. But when Xu charged on horseback, releasing a sword qi that surged like a breached river, Yang was slightly surprised. Over the years, Yang Taishui had distanced himself from palace intrigues, wandering the martial world. With his deep scheming and vast experience, he could deduce the truth from scattered rumors. Yet he had expected Xu Fengnian, who had received Wang Chonglou’s Great Huang Ting cultivation technique, to have a different level of internal energy and a less ferocious sword qi.

Yang Taishui gently flicked his sleeve time and again.

The twelve flying swords rebounded and danced.

Xu Fengnian halted his horse ten zhang away, hands resting on Chunlei and Chunqiu. Silent, not uttering a word.

This was the power of the Wujia Flying Sword with a fully matured sword embryo—where the mind willed, the blade followed. Moreover, these twelve swords had been infused with the life’s work of the Peach Blossom Sword God Deng Tai’a. Even though he had removed the The Ruyi Sword Embryo before gifting them, the swords themselves had already become smooth and complete.

“Return to the sect.”

The black-robed monk smiled slightly, uttering two words. With one hand in a palm stance before his chest and a sweep of his sleeve, he effortlessly swept six flying swords into his sleeve.

The wide sleeve billowed like a drum.

Of the remaining six swords, Taia flew toward Yang Taishui’s forehead.

The old monk raised his hand, pressing it against Taia. Though his body moved slowly, his hand in the air managed to catch Taia and three other swords.

The remaining two swords, Zhuma and Taohua, struck the monk’s back, but the kasaya rippled like water disturbed by a stone, and the swords had no effect. Yang Taishui caught the two swords between his fingers.

All twelve swords were now in the monk’s sleeve and hand.

Yang Taishui looked toward the young man sitting motionless on his horse and softly said, “Your Highness, will you not leave now?”

Xu Fengnian tugged his lips into a smile, “Not yet. You’re not dead.”

He extended his hand, flicking his fingers in the air.

Six swords remained trapped in the monk’s hand and fingers, but the other six burst from his sleeve.

Yang Taishui murmured, “Finger-snap breaking immortality?”

※※※

The The Way (Dao) is not exclusive to Daoism. The three schools have all been seeking their own Dao.

Confucianism is not merely the rigid doctrines established by the Sage Confucius and his successors.

If not for an unavoidable debt of gratitude, Cao Changqing would have loved to discuss the differences in Dao between himself and the White-robed War Sage.

Cao Changqing attained Confucian Sagehood thanks to the ruins of Xilei Wall, thanks to the Princess’s words—both rise and fall bring suffering to the people—and thanks to the enduring spirit of the scholars of the fallen Xichu kingdom.

He was deeply curious how Chen Zhibao had bypassed the Heavenly Phenomenon realm and directly entered the realm of the Immortal on Earth.

In truth, with Chen’s extraordinary talent, if he had followed the martial artist’s path step by step into the Heavenly Phenomenon realm, then as a Confucian Sage attained the realm of the Immortal, such a Confucian Sage who combined the three schools and the martial path would have left Cao with no choice but to concede defeat.

The current Chen Zhibao was in an unprecedentedly mysterious state—neither a false Immortal realm nor like Wang Xianzhi’s transcendence through sheer force.

A pity.

If only he had waited ten more years.

However, one thing Daguansi was certain was that Chen Zhibao’s silent attainment of Sagehood was deeply connected to the Nirvana of the Two Chan Temple’s Holy Monk Longshu.

After a deep sigh, Cao Changqing reached out.

Replacing Xu Weixiong in uttering the unspoken “Edict.”

He summoned a purple heavenly thunder from the ninth heaven.

Renowned as the unrivaled master of the Heavenly Phenomenon realm, Cao Changqing naturally possessed great charisma.

Earlier, when Chen Zhibao faced Cao Changqing, he had dismounted, gently patted his horse, and let it run free.

He looked up at the descending thunder.

Then suddenly plunged his deep purple plum wine spear into the earth.

Cao Changqing smiled slightly and uttered the word “Edict” once more, this time with his palm facing downward.

Imitating Heaven and Earth!