Zhang Chunlin fumed, “Has this man gone mad!”
Zhang Dongling, the estate lord, also had his doubts and was deeply worried. The woman was originally a direct disciple of a grand master from the Nanhai Guanyin Sect, destined to inherit her master’s legacy. That was precisely why the sect had been so enraged in the past. Among the millions of martial cultivators in the world, rare talents like her were always regarded as “priceless gems.” After falling in love and devoting herself to family life, her cultivation had long since dissipated like water dripping from a leaky pot, though her discerning eye remained. She too did not believe the guest would gain any advantage. After all, the elderly woman among the sixteen cultivators was not only highly revered within the Nanhai Guanyin Sect, but also held an extremely senior status among all southern cultivators. Though she appeared to be a venerable old woman in her seventies, she had actually lived nearly two centuries. While martial prowess might favor the young, in the art of cultivation, the older one grew, the more formidable one became. Take swordsmanship, for example—Li Chungan, who bore a great grudge with the Guanyin Sect, had risen to the pinnacle before the age of thirty, unmatched after ascending the summit and looking around. But cultivators of the Dao were different. In the past thousand years, only a handful had achieved great fortune before the age of thirty. The martial world often praised someone’s rare talent with the phrase “once in a hundred years,” but for cultivators, even “once in a thousand years” would not be an exaggeration! And it was precisely Li Chungan who had destroyed such a rare genius, a talent worth half a kingdom’s territory.
At once, Zhang Chunlin stepped out of the pavilion, saying, “I shall go stop that madman. The calamity of Youyan Manor must not be borne by outsiders.”
Zhang Dongling and the woman exchanged a pleased glance, smiling as they walked hand in hand down the mountain.
The young calf fears no tiger because it has not yet entered the mountains, unaware of the ferocity of the great tigers. Zhang Chunlin, due to his family background, held such fear toward cultivators that he dared not even draw his sword. One must understand that Zhang Dongling, who jokingly called himself a blacksmith, had only moderate sword skills, but Zhang Chunlin was exceptionally gifted. By the age of twenty, he had already reached the threshold of the Lesser Sage realm. In the past five years, he had trained relentlessly, becoming obsessed with swordsmanship. Yet, faced with these white-robed cultivators from the distant Nanhai, he still hesitated to fight. Thus, when he saw the small boat blocking the way on the lake, he felt some irritation at the guest’s recklessness, but more concern that the white-haired man fishing alone might be caught in the crossfire of Youyan Manor. After all, though Zhang Chunlin was the young master of the estate, his nature remained simple and pure. Even though his talent and lineage came from his mother, he was still Zhang Dongling’s son, possessing a rare innocence of heart. The terrifying aspect of cultivators was not merely their swordsmanship, which could kill and take heads as easily as reaching into a pocket, but that these Daoist adepts were favored by fate. Once they entered the inner sanctum of cultivation, they could, through their own opportunities, grasp one or even several great abilities from the realms of Fingers of the Mystery or Celestial Phenomenon. Ordinary martial artists, even if they were top-tier experts in the Diamond or Second-Rank Lesser Sage realms, could still hold their own against such cultivators before their secret techniques and treasures were revealed.
And on the lake, Xu Fengnian faced off against sixteen cultivators of varying levels.
At the mention of the Northern Liang Saber, aside from the elderly woman at the forefront whose heart trembled faintly, the other white-robed cultivators remained indifferent. The Nanhai Guanyin Sect, secluded in the distant seas, had never submitted to any power—not even during the tumultuous Spring and Autumn Era. Before the rise of the Central Plains…
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