A lone figure suddenly burst through the city wall and leaped outside. The swordsmen of the Sword Pool who were just retrieving their weapons from the hidden vault outside the wall were startled. Upon recognizing the young man’s half-familiar face, they finally relaxed, having initially mistaken him for their Sect Leader, one of the top three sword cultivators in the world, who had supposedly been beaten out of the city. This mission had seen their entire sect mobilize. A small group followed Li Yibai to the Ku Xue Villa, while the main force of elite swordsmen followed their Sect Leader on a secret mission. As they approached this city, they passed around a portrait in turns. Their Sect Leader had spoken plainly: upon seeing the person in the painting, kill without mercy.
Nearby, several mounted swordsmen quickly surrounded the area. As the unique sword-pinging secret technique of the Sword Sect echoed, more swordsmen rushed over on horseback. The man in the portrait, who stood right before them, seemed gravely injured. He struggled once but failed to rise. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, his face pale and gaunt, his aura dim and murky, he clearly exhibited signs of a soul and spirit in violent turmoil.
He ignored the encircling swordsmen of the Sword Pool, clenched his fists, and leaned on the ground, staring intently at the elderly man in brocade robes standing on the other side of the hole in the city wall. The old man, having lived in luxury and held a high position in the most prestigious city under heaven, had accumulated a deep aura of authority. The contrast between the two men—one inside the city, the other outside—was immediately apparent in their auras. In the dim light, Liu Haoshi, a towering figure whose physique rivaled the strongest men of the northern wilderness, slowly stepped forward. His presence created an oppressive, suffocating illusion that made the Sword Pool cultivators gasp. Only the few swordsmen with the highest martial cultivation managed to halt their horses from retreating. Most others instinctively followed their mounts backward.
Liu Haoshi inwardly sneered. This young man had been cunning for over twenty years, even managing to escape from Tai’an City last time. Yet now, in his arrogance, he had made one foolish move after another, leading to his own doom. If not for Liu Haoshi standing beside that female demoness, he could have coordinated with Song Nianqing’s Heaven-Piercing Sword strike, delivering a severe wound to the new leader of Zhu Lu Mountain. If the young man had been a bit smarter and fled the city decisively, allowing Luoyang to hold him and Song Nianqing at bay, though the odds would have been slim, there would still have been a glimmer of hope. Since the young man had chosen to meet his end, Liu Haoshi had no intention of being courteous. In the distance of four or five miles, as a Heavenly Phenomenon expert, Liu Haoshi not only shattered the young man’s protective aura but also uprooted the budding Huang Ting Golden Lotus within his dantian, a surprising and joyous bonus. Even the seasoned Liu Haoshi couldn’t help but laugh aloud. After all this time, he had finally found the young man without effort—like finding treasure without searching! Years ago, the attempt to kill that female sword immortal in the capital had failed, and Liu Haoshi had been restless ever since. Now, not only was Xu Que likely nearing his end, but if Liu could also kill this young man who should have died in the womb, he would finally have no further worries. The Liu Clan of Nanyang, who revered him as their ancestor, might even rise to become a new aristocratic family in the post-Spring and Autumn era.
As Liu Haoshi walked from inside the city to outside, from the moment he tore out the young man’s budding Huang Ting Golden Lotus, he did not stop his secret assault for even a moment. With hidden finger movements, he shattered the young man’s escaping aura, ensuring it could never coalesce again.
In Tai’an City, two great experts stood—Han Diaosi in the open, Liu Haoshi in the shadows. Their identities and methods differed greatly, yet they shared one similarity: they both disregarded martial ethics and were pragmatic, much like Bi Yian’er Zhang Julu’s political strategies. Liu Haoshi did not hesitate due to his status as a senior or become careless due to his advantage. As he watched the young white-haired man’s life force gradually fade under his fingers, Liu’s eyes burned with excitement, like uncorking a vintage wine aged over twenty years and drinking it all at once—how exhilarating!
Xu Fengnian struggled to rise, only to be struck mid-air by Liu Haoshi’s invisible foot, as if kicked in the face, sending him flying backward several zhang. Liu Haoshi continued forward. Each step he took seemed light, yet it stirred the heavens and earth, crushing Xu Fengnian’s body and chaotic energy. Liu spoke calmly, “That evil entity that helped you wreak havoc in Tai’an City, the one that devoured the first Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain’s golden aura at the Spring Spirit Lake, is still digesting its meal and remains weak during this yin-yang transition. If you truly wanted to use it as a trump card against me, you should have avoided confrontation and played the coward. Why did you insist on taking my strike for that woman of Zhu Lu Mountain? Even waiting a few more incense sticks would have been better than letting it watch helplessly as you suffer, pouring its energy into you to prolong your life in vain, while I step on both your body and its spirit with every footfall. Though I have killed countless martial experts and suppressed the Jianghu alongside the Human Cat, this is the first time I have so casually humiliated a Heavenly Phenomenon expert. How amusing.”
With each step Liu took, a dull sound erupted around Xu Fengnian, sending up clouds of dust.
Liu halted and stomped hard. Xu Fengnian’s body sank into a deep pit. The swordsmen of the Sword Pool, who had already distanced themselves, saw only a bloodied hand reaching out from the edge of the pit, inching forward in defiance. Liu Haoshi, ever cautious, whispered in secret transmission, “I heard you, the heir of Beiliang, ventured alone into the Northern Wilderness, killing many, even managing to kill Xie Ling and Fifth Mo. Returning to Liyang, you even killed Yang Taishui in the ambush at Iron Gate Pass, which shook the capital. Your mind must be sharp. Yet how did you end up letting yourself be kicked around like this? For a Northern Wilderness woman with no ties to you, you’ve abandoned your title as Prince of Beiliang, forsaken your thirty thousand iron cavalry?”
Liu twisted his foot. Blood splattered from the hand sticking out of the pit. With a sinister grin, he asked a third question in a venomous tone, “Even your mother’s killer you won’t avenge?!”
Each breath brought unbearable pain. Xu Fengnian could barely hear anything but his own heavy breathing. Liu’s three questions rang in his ears like temple bells striking his heart. Xu did not dare sever his spiritual link with the crimson-robed evil spirit—not out of fear of death, but out of fear that Xu Ying would lose control and die before him. After crashing through the wall, he secretly hoped to use this external force to refine Xu Ying’s golden aura, buying time and helping her restore her cultivation. But Liu Haoshi, cunning as ever, struck with hidden layers in each step, damaging the roots without breaking the surface. Truly a seasoned old turtle who had lingered in the Heavenly Phenomenon for the longest time. Xu Fengnian rolled over, lying flat in the pit, forcibly severing his spiritual connection with Xu Ying. He gazed at the gray sky, his vision blurring.
Since taking up the blade again, he had always pursued his goals with meticulous planning, fearing death but never hesitating to do whatever it took. He trained in sword and blade alike. After attaining the Diamond Body, he stumbled upon the Great Diamond. He faked the Finger-Sky Technique and forced his way into the False Heavenly Phenomenon, climbing step by step, falling and rising, gaining and losing, never even pausing to savor his achievements. Now, looking back, he realized he had accomplished many feats he had never dared to dream of before wielding the blade. Xu Fengnian slowly closed his eyes, recalling a saying from Xu Xiao: “No one is born to die, and no one is immune to death.”
Suddenly, an image Xu Fengnian had desperately tried to recall after the Spring Spirit Lake incident flashed through his mind. As his consciousness faded, he plunged into it, as if stepping into the picture itself. It was autumn, golden with ripe wheat, endless under the breeze. On a small path, a woman walked ahead, her delicate hand brushing gently over the wheat, leaving an unforgettable back view. The body Xu Fengnian inhabited felt a surge of pride, as if the dynasty of the Great Qin would last ten thousand generations. “Xu Fengnian” looked down and held a heavy wheat stalk. He looked up, and the woman turned her head. Just as he was about to see her face, the image shattered, everything vanishing into the wind. He reached out, trying to grasp her, but the harder he tried, the more futile it became. In his ears, two unfamiliar yet familiar voices whispered a word.
※※※
Huang Longshi, who had seemed dead drunk, slowly opened his eyes. The candlelight flickered, occasionally crackling like popping soybeans. The girl was long gone. Huang sighed. Ever since he was expelled from the Shangyin Academy, he had spoken countless treacherous words to the kings and ministers of the Spring and Autumn states, all of whom had lapped them up like addicts. Yet the one girl he had finally found, the one he truly wished to speak honestly with, had no interest in his ramblings. Huang poured himself a bowl of wine, took a sip, and picked up a piece of spicy red-braised carp. “A thousand flavors, but none without chili,” he muttered.
This time, he had brokered a deal between Zhu Lu Mountain and the Xichu remnants, with Cao Changqing serving as a guest advisor to Zhu Lu Mountain, while Zhu Lu Mountain provided funds and manpower to support Xichu’s restoration. All his efforts were merely to delay the Zhao family’s unification of the realm. Huang Longshi knew well that all his actions in life were but following the tides.
Huang Zhantu, Wang Mingyin, Xuan Yuan Daban, Li Chungan, Yang Taishui, Han Shengxuan, Song Nianqing… and now, likely, Liu Haoshi, Zhao Huangchao, Gu Jiantang, and others. Counting them off, the older generation of the Jianghu under Liyang seemed to have perished overnight.
After the peace of the Central Plains, Huang Longshi had redirected the world’s qi into the Jianghu, like boiling water—seemingly lively, but in truth, merely Pulling up seedlings to help them grow and exhausting the resources.
With the rise of the imperial examination system and the exclusive promotion of Confucianism, the court grew more orderly, while the Jianghu, barely surviving, fell into silence.
The common people gained peace.
Huang Longshi removed his sable hat, glanced at the sunflower lying across the table, and smiled bitterly, “Why did you go and get involved, my girl? I was hoping someone would be left to visit my grave.”
A young girl ran out of Shen’s Workshop, her black hair adorned with a slanted hairpin.
Outside a small city, insignificant on Liyang’s vast map, Luoyang broke free from Song Nianqing sooner than Liu Haoshi had expected.
Such a small difference in timing, usually negligible, was now enough to change everything.
Throughout history, sword immortals who reached the realm of Land Immortal were rare. Many had only one sword strike in their entire lives that reached the Land Immortal level. The sword immortal Wei Cao from a hundred years ago in the previous dynasty, whose corpse was hung on a mountain by Liu Songtao, was such a case. Song Nianqing’s sword strike was unstoppable. In Liu Haoshi’s eyes, even Wang Xianzhi and Tuoba Pusa would have to be cautious, needing time to counter it. Song Nianqing’s sword had reached the peak of swordsmanship. Having long dwelled in the Heavenly Phenomenon realm, Liu Haoshi knew that if he faced such a strike, he could only retreat. Years ago in Tai’an City, that woman forcefully broke into the Land Immortal realm, barely escaping with half a sword strike that was half-delivered and half-withdrawn, proving the supreme might of a Land Immortal sword. Song Nianqing’s sudden breakthrough of two realms with a single strike had benefited Liu Haoshi greatly, but it had also brought great suffering to Xu Fengnian and the white-robed woman. Originally, upon sensing Luoyang’s presence, Liu Haoshi had planned to strike swiftly and retreat. He had no confidence in facing Luoyang, who could merge heaven and earth into a single sword strike.
Previously, he had been at her mercy. But now, after enduring Song Nianqing’s sword strike, he no longer believed the outcome would be so one-sided.
The white-robed woman abandoned the merged heaven-and-earth sword strike and flew to Xu Fengnian’s side, her expression unreadable.
Liu Haoshi, secretly forming hidden seals with his fingers, sneered, “The fourth-ranked martial expert in the world, the demoness Luoyang, acting so recklessly?”
Luoyang, with her back to Liu Haoshi, remained silent.
On the city wall, a crimson robe finally appeared. The evil spirit, with five arms, clutched its head, tearing at its face with sharp nails, blood streaming, unable to scream.
Inside the city, Song Nianqing, his body torn and bloodied, staggered to sit on the ground. With trembling hands, he painfully removed his worn-out shoes and held them close, dying in the Jianghu.
The blue fish companion that had relied on Luoyang had already vanished within the city’s sword aura. The other, a long-bearded red fish brought from the Qin Emperor’s tomb, appeared out of nowhere. Luoyang snapped off all its whiskers, which quickly merged into her blood vessels.
Liu Haoshi suddenly flung his sleeves.
Behind Luoyang, she was struck as if by a heavy blow, her body shaking violently but refusing to fall. She exhaled a thin stream of golden mist and whispered, “No more waiting. What you left me eight hundred years ago, I return to you today. From this day forth, there is no longer the Great Qin Empress Luoyang. As for you and her… how you proceed is no longer my concern…”
Luoyang bit her lip, saying nothing more, letting Liu Haoshi’s energy strikes batter her back again and again. She spat out centuries of accumulated cultivation, transforming into golden mist that enveloped Xu Fengnian’s body.
Liu Haoshi’s face changed drastically. Without hesitation, he began to retreat.
“Xu Fengnian” slowly rose, his eyes golden. He stretched his arms wide, as if challenging the heavens, then turned quietly to the white-robed woman. His voice was deep, “Luoyang?”
The woman’s form wavered, beginning to dissipate in the wind. Tears streamed down her face, yet she smiled. Like their first meeting eight hundred years ago, when he was not yet emperor and she had not yet entered the palace, she bowed gracefully with a tenderness that the demoness Luoyang would never have shown. With a voice full of longing, she softly called out, “My King!”
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