In the rain-soaked alley of Beiman, a blind female qin player named Xue Songguan once made the rain stop momentarily, creating a narrow confrontation. At the gates of Dunhuang, the most formidable martial cultivator of the age, Luoyang, stepped forward, sending countless raindrops soaring like flying swords to challenge the new Sword Saint, Deng Tai’a, in a duel of sword techniques. Xu Fengnian, though not reaching the realm of the blind qin player who leaped from the King Kong (Vajra) to the Mystic Revelation (Finger Mystery) stage, nor matching the internal strength of Li Chungan of the Snowy Terrace or Luoyang outside Dunhuang, had an advantage—beneath his feet lay a hidden Zhu Pao Yin creature, a dual-bodied, six-armed Heaven-reflecting expert. Their minds were in perfect sync, rivaling Xu Fengnian’s command of twelve flying swords. Xu Ying continuously channeled internal energy into Xu Fengnian like a flood rushing into a lake, raising the water level and lifting the boatman Xu Fengnian to the false image of a sword immortal standing atop the dragon.
Xu Fengnian, fully aware of his own limitations, used celestial power to create tens of thousands of crooked snow swords, their intimidation far exceeding their actual effectiveness. Yet he remained unaware that within his body, a withered pond, like a lotus leaf in decay, held a seed of the purple-gold lotus that had sprouted, its tender shoot swaying gently, exuding a vast and profound aura.
Above the lake, tens of thousands of white swords hovered—slanting, upright, thick, thin, long, short, no fixed form. Yet in terms of sheer momentum (qi-shi), this spectacle was truly rare in the world. Xu Fengnian’s unique insight into the sword path, combined with Xu Ying’s flawless Heaven-reflecting cultivation, culminated in the breathtaking scene atop the Dragon’s Rest Lake (Fulong Lake).
The martial world is inevitably filled with the scent of grassroots—unable to afford swords and blades, unable to obtain secret manuals, struggling in poverty, a single copper coin can bring down even the bravest hero. The martial world is filled with resentment—calling each other brothers with the mouth while stabbing each other in the back. Yet it also holds righteousness—drawing the blade for a swift act, living up to one’s youthful spirit. But the martial world can also possess an immortal aura—cultivators in white robes drifting like fairies, walking lightly across the lake, seen by the common folk as celestial beings. Xu Fengnian, determined to intercept for the sake of old graces, initially seemed like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, an act of chivalry beyond common understanding. But with ten thousand snow swords suspended in the sky, even more ethereal. With unwavering courage, Xu Fengnian pressed his advantage, giving his enemies no chance to catch their breath, his hands suddenly slamming downward.
Tens of thousands of snow swords surged downward toward the cultivators of the Nanhai Guanyin Sect.
The barefoot young woman, who had previously shown no distinction, suddenly smiled and said, “Among the myriad swords of heaven and earth, one blade in my hand is enough.”
She did not draw the talisman sword better suited for slaying demons and exorcising spirits, but instead, like Wang Xiaoping, bent forward and charged through the lake and the gaps between the snow swords, like a white-feathered arrow. With a gesture as if lifting a water bucket, a jet of water erupted from the lake like a dragon rising from the deep, forming into an emerald-green longsword in her grasp. Her intent was clear—to strike the leader first, to cut off the source. What difference did ten thousand swords above her head make?
You wield ten thousand snow swords, I wield one water sword to break them.
Somewhere in the martial world, a strange saying had spread—there is a dragon girl in Nanhai whose sword skills have reached the divine. With wind high and waves swift, she rides a toad across a thousand miles with a single sword stroke.
On the final page of the sword manual, there is a concept of Soul Resonance (Lingxi)—a fortunate accident. More accurately, Xu Fengnian, having lost the King Kong Realm (Vajra stage) and fallen two cultivation levels, could only settle for second best—focusing on close-range sword combat. Within ten zhang, his twelve flying swords claimed to slay all below the Mystic Revelation (Finger Mystery) stage. Unfazed, Xu Fengnian continued to press the snow swords downward.
The debate between sword techniques and sword philosophy has long persisted. For centuries, Li Chungan was the most balanced, with the Green Snake (Green Snake) technique representing the peak of swordplay and the Sword Opens the Heavenly Gate (Sword Opens Heaven’s Gate) representing the summit of sword philosophy. Before his duel with Tuoba Pusa, Deng Tai’a was seen as striving to surpass the Wu family sword tomb, achieving enlightenment through swordplay alone. Only after borrowing swords did he begin to incorporate sword philosophy. This does not mean that the Peach Blossom Sword Saint’s sword philosophy was inferior, only that his achievements in swordplay were more dazzling. To achieve the terrifying realm of slaying a thousand enemies with a single sword requires mastery of both sword techniques and sword philosophy. Piercing through armor may not be difficult, but armor is worn by living soldiers, not wooden stakes to be cut at will. Moreover, all force unleashed in the world carries a backlash. In the past, the old man in the lamb-skin robe suffered from his own sword qi during the Guangling River battle, ten to forty percent of the damage inflicted upon himself.
To wield fire without burning one’s fingers is a feat of speed. A nail driven into metal or stone relies on concentrated force at a single point.
Controlling too many swords inevitably divides one’s focus, inevitably compromising these two supreme martial principles. This is why countless renowned swordsmen in the sword world disdain using flying swords in battle. A short blade is dangerous precisely because it is short. Letting swords fly from one’s hand is inherently unwise. To unleash a rain of swords from the sky is even more absurd—like casting a net across the sky to catch fish, how could it compare to the ferocity of a single fishing hook?
After Lüzu, only Li Chungan truly carried the weight of sword philosophy.
After Xu Fengnian summoned the snow swords from the sky, emphasizing form over force, he had been waiting for this moment of life and death. Yet things had not gone exactly as he had imagined. He had originally feared the old woman, not the young girl charging at him now. Xu Fengnian was naturally cautious, even timid, always expecting the worst in every situation. Facing the cultivators of Nanhai, he harbored one lingering doubt—though cultivators are supposed to be aloof immortals, these sixteen with varying levels of cultivation had ventured deep into the heart of the Liyang Dynasty. They could not all be paper tigers relying on close combat. At first, he had worried that a truly skilled swordsman lay hidden beneath the lake, waiting for the right moment to strike. But Xu Ying’s abundant qi had spread like roots through the lake bed for fifty zhang, detecting no anomalies. If the threat was not beneath the water, then it must be among the sixteen. Yet he had not anticipated that the decisive strike would come from this barefoot girl.
Since he had already known the cultivators would have hidden tricks, and after witnessing the female cultivator’s finger sword, Xu Fengnian had already greatly underestimated the Guanyin Sect. Yet when faced with that seemingly effortless sword strike, he realized he had underestimated them even more.
That water sword, formed three zhang away, returned to the lake as if it had never existed. Yet the barefoot girl still surged forward. Xu Fengnian, already having formed the Thunder Pool (Thunder Pool) formation, sensed danger. As expected, the twelve flying swords, whose sword embryos had reached perfection, inexplicably turned against him at the moment they pierced the cultivator like a sieve. Though they did not strike back, they danced gently around the girl like butterflies, graceful and playful, devoid of any killing intent. Xu Fengnian, who had never lost control of his flying swords, was shaken to the core, a bitter smile forming on his lips. That girl was cunning—her water sword was merely a feint. She herself was the true hidden blade. Her apparent suicide was a calculated move. Xu Fengnian had once heard the old man in the lamb-skin robe say that in the sword world, there are two true geniuses. One, like Deng Tai’a, excels in both sword philosophy and technique—his sword is the peach branch, the rotten wood, the rainwater, anything under heaven. The other is even rarer—born with an innate affinity for swords, then mastering them. Such a person is the ultimate sword embryo. No matter how supreme your sword techniques or how fierce your sword strikes, unless you have attained the realm of the sword immortal, you may find yourself unwittingly serving as a stepping stone for another.
Since the sword had been tested…
Now it was time for the saber.
Xu Fengnian’s hand rested on the hilt of his Beiliang saber.
The old woman suddenly said, “Charcoal-selling girl, return.”
Unexpectedly, after the authoritative voice of the southern cultivator rang out, the barefoot girl with the strange nickname merely chuckled and, instead of slowing down, accelerated forward, determined to challenge the saber.
Before Xu Fengnian could act, the Zhu Pao Yin creature, against his will, silently leapt from the lake bed, seizing the young woman’s delicate feet with both arms and dragging her into the icy water.
Both Xu Fengnian and the old woman from Nanhai wore expressions of helpless exasperation, like parents unable to control a mischievous child.
Xu Fengnian sent a mental command to the Yin creature, then slightly bowed to the old woman who had not yet acted, politely saying, “Xu Fengnian of Beiliang pays respects to the elder of the Guanyin Sect.”
The old woman smiled, her aged face like withered wood meeting spring, deliberately ignoring the word “Beiliang,” and said, “Never expected to meet the disciple of Li Jianshen. It is an honor. The younger generation of swordsmen in Zhongyuan is indeed formidable. Our sect has underestimated the heroes of the world.”
Xu Fengnian calmly asked, “Elder, may I ask you to step back temporarily? I will do my best to make amends to the Guanyin Sect. Regarding the delay in casting talisman swords at Longyan incense burner and your sect’s matter of purging traitors, I will thoroughly investigate and provide a satisfactory explanation.”
The old woman hesitated, then waved her hand. “It’s not about stepping back. On the Crouching Tiger (Crouching Tiger) Mountain, there is a Mystic Revelation (Finger Mystery) expert. On shore, there is Wang Xiaoping of Wudang. If you had truly wished to kill, today would have been the day our sect met its doom. Since you have already shown restraint, I have no face to press further. The sect leader will emerge from seclusion in about three years. During this time, the fifteen disciples of our sect who have come ashore will follow me across the rivers and lakes, tempering their hearts and cultivating the righteous qi. If, in three years, the Youyan Manor can provide seventy talisman swords, I will personally return to the sect and plead for Zhang Dongling. As for the life and death of the traitors, that must still be decided by the sect leader.”
Xu Fengnian smiled and asked, “May I ask, why is the forging of talisman swords so arduous?”
The old woman was surprisingly forthcoming, “Firstly, the materials are rare, similar to Li Chungan’s Muma Niu, all meteoric stones from beyond the sky. Secondly, forging talisman swords is vastly different from ordinary sword-making—one step cannot be missed. The original agreement of eighty-one talisman swords was not our sect bullying others. The Longyan incense burner of Youyan Manor has collected materials over generations, enough for over eighty talisman swords. But Zhang Dongling, though a master at forging ordinary swords, is hindered by his mediocre sword techniques. He works in isolation, narrow-minded, and in the matter of talisman swords, not only has he failed to contribute, but he has also wasted many precious materials.”
Xu Fengnian gestured with his hands, “How many talisman swords can be forged from a short sword like that?”
The old woman replied calmly, “If there are no mishaps, eight.”
Xu Fengnian bowed again, then said seriously, “I can accept the three-year agreement on behalf of Youyan Manor.”
The graceful woman, who had cultivated the finger sword from the Mystic Revelation stage, smiled and said, “If you take the people of Youyan Manor to Beiliang and then renege on your promise, would our sect in Nanhai dare to oppose your thirty thousand iron cavalry?”
Xu Fengnian’s smile was sincere and charming as he tied his hair, saying, “Esteemed Fairy Sister, who is unparalleled in inscribing talismans into swords, you flatter me. How could I be such an untrustworthy person?”
The woman, whose age was impossible to discern, was clearly flustered by his flattery—neither wishing to break into harsh words nor to fall into his trap. But that one word, “sister,” pleased her deeply.
Xu Fengnian patted his Beiliang saber, “I should offer my saber as a token, but it’s rather inconvenient. Elder, feel free to ask for anything to prove my sincerity.”
The old woman thought for a moment and made a strange request, “In the future war between Liang and Beiman, may our cultivators observe from the Beiliang border, without participating?”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “As long as they do not harm Beiliang, there will be no problem.”
The old woman smiled, “Then it is settled.”
Xu Fengnian quickly flattered, “Elder is indeed a transcendent cultivator! Compared to that wretched Longhu Mountain, you are a hundred times more admirable!”
The old woman accepted his praise calmly. The cultivators behind her, who had previously struggled against the rain of flying swords, had greatly improved their impression of her. Especially the sect leader’s favored disciple, the woman smiled, thinking to herself how amusing this young man was—despite his terrifying mastery of countless flying swords, he still acted so frivolously.
The old woman gazed directly at Xu Fengnian. He smiled sheepishly and called out, “Xu Ying!”
The lake surface split like a sword slash as the Zhu Pao Yin creature leapt into the air first, its golden-purple eyes glowing with compassion, sweeping its gaze over the fifteen overseas cultivators.
Even the charming female cultivator, who had been calm before, could not suppress the rising tide of fear when met with that gaze.
The old woman smiled and softly said, “Young Master Xu, your virtue is boundless.”
Then she turned and walked away across the lake.
Fourteen cultivators followed. The woman who had mastered the finger sword surfaced, pulling the soaked young woman with immeasurable seniority from the water. She glanced back with a smile before departing.
The barefoot girl huffed coldly and drifted away.
White butterflies fluttered over the lake.
The old woman slowed her pace, approached the barefoot girl, and apologized, “Senior, I had no choice but to call your name directly.”
The young girl, her delicate nose twitching, waved her off, “No problem. I just hate that Yin creature.”
The old woman smiled, “The line between mortal and immortal, demon and celestial, is thin. It is no longer a Yin creature. Otherwise, I would have acted even at the cost of my life.”
The young woman, not yet twenty, asked, “Why did you stop me from accepting his saber strike?”
The old woman said solemnly, “Since he is Li Chungan’s disciple, he may yet open the heavenly gate with borrowed power.”
The young woman growled, “We’ll see!”
The old woman gently said, “Senior, the evil dragon in Difei Mountain, wounded by Li Yufu of the martial world, is now vulnerable. This is the perfect time to harvest the Mo Li…”
At this, the old woman showed a trace of embarrassment.
The barefoot girl playfully smiled, lifting her foot. A swarm of flying swords, like fish, was dragged from the lake, leaping into the air before diving back in.
This thunderous battle on the lake, though not ending in life or death, left the three to four hundred martial artists of Youyan Manor deeply shaken.
Xu Fengnian had originally intended to borrow swords first and return them afterward, to complete the act with style. But to his shock, nearly two hundred swords were missing. He turned to the lake and cursed furiously.
How could he now persuade Youyan Manor to serve in Beiliang?
Next time we meet, I’ll beat you barefoot back to Nanhai, just like the old man in the lamb-skin robe.
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