Wang Sheng swallowed hard, pointed toward the city wall, and trembled, “Master, many people are coming!”
Xu Fengnian, holding the purple sandalwood sword case, smiled and asked, “Scared?”
Wang Sheng frowned and muttered, “How could I not be?”
Xu Fengnian replied softly, “This time, we don’t need to run when the wind gets strong.”
On the outer wall outside Martial Emperor City, a dense crowd of martial experts had gathered. Many of them had hidden themselves for years, sheltered by Wang Laoguai, thereby evading the imperial court’s pursuit and slaughter. At the same time, they understood better than any other martial artists how thick and oppressive the dark clouds above were, casting despair upon everyone, making them feel hopeless. As long as Wang Xianzhi was alive, martial cultivators would have no chance to rise—this was the greatest truth of the martial world for the past sixty years. Eventually, no one believed that the old monster would ever die. Yet Wang Xianzhi not only failed to ascend to immortality but was defeated by a young junior and even died by his hand. This was the most shocking news in the martial world in a hundred years, even more incredible than the time when Li Chungan’s wooden cow and straw horse broke under Wang Xianzhi’s might.
On the city wall, there were indeed many experts. If you randomly picked one and threw them into the martial world, even if their name and title had not been used for years, once they reappeared, sects with good memories would still retreat three steps. These genuine experts coveted the weapons hanging on the walls even more than many pretenders. After Wang Xianzhi left the city, many had acted upon hearing the news, secretly sneaking into Martial Emperor City. When the news of Wang Xianzhi’s death spread overnight across the land, even more people rushed to the East Sea (Donghai). No one would act without profit; naturally, they all came for those long-coveted divine weapons and treasures. They formed groups, hoping to rely on each other during the coming chaos, surviving to get a share instead of dying in the melee. Originally, if any of Wang Xianzhi’s disciples had remained in the city, no one would dare act so hastily. But now, Martial Emperor City was like a once-prosperous family suddenly left without any male heirs, leaving behind a house full of helpless and beautiful women. Whether plump or slender, graceful or charming, even the most discerning men would rush in and take their pick. But suddenly, someone appeared out of nowhere and took all the women, not sparing even a single servant girl. How could the hungry men, who had been watching longingly from the walls, possibly endure such a sight?
Everyone on the city wall was restless, eyes gleaming with greed, yet initially, no one wanted to be the first to act. This was known as the principle of “better you die than me.” However, they also feared that if no one acted, when that person finally turned to leave, no one would dare to intercept him.
Finally, a man leapt down from the city wall, his long narrow blade already drawn, trailing a dazzling flash of light. He called out loudly, “Yan Shan Wang Shan Nu, please accept my challenge!”
As soon as someone left the wall, more than a dozen renowned experts followed without hesitation. Soon, the air was filled with voices announcing their names and titles.
“Fang Shan Jun Mo Zhi Jian Zhou Mu, seeking your guidance!”
“Jian Zhou Pi Pa Shou Xu Wang Feng, respectfully requesting a duel!”
“Nan Jiang Qian Shou Guanyin Fang Bai Gu, here!”
“Yan Dang Shan San Ren Si Tu Hong Zhu, daring to challenge!”
“Sajia is Ling Miao, the monk of Yu Si Shan, here for a challenge today!”
More than a dozen experts, full of vigor, each shouting louder than the last.
This was merely the first wave. Soon, a second, even larger group leapt down from the wall. Compared to the first wave, these were more reserved, most of them silently jumping down.
As the first wave of experts had almost all landed and begun running forward, the second wave was still mid-air when the third wave began to follow one after another.
Like a cascading waterfall filled with countless pearls.
This dazzling and magnificent scene was destined to be passed down in the martial world for generations.
Wang Sheng lowered the curtain, moved closer, and whispered, “Master, these are many famous heroes and villains, even I have heard of them.”
Xu Fengnian nodded and smiled, “Then let me tell you something you’ve never heard before.”
Xu Fengnian looked toward a spot and said calmly, “Before the Jiazi era, the top swordsman in the northwest, He Baiquan, wielded the sword Yu Jia.”
His gaze slightly shifted as he continued, “Song Nianqing’s fourth sword from the Eastern Yue Sword Pond, Mo Shang Cao.”
He turned to the third spot, “Wei Miao, the top expert from Nanzhao, once wielded the ancient spear Long Rao Liang, waging war across three thousand miles of the martial world.”
“Jiang Baishi wielded the saber Bo Zhuo.”
“The great frost saber, passed through the hands of more than ten swordsmen in a hundred years.”
“The two generations of sword champions from Sword Grave wielded swords, wandering the martial world and dying in it. The first is Fang Xin, the second is Ren Zhen.”
Xu Fengnian, as if inspecting troops on a battlefield, calmly listed the names and origins of over a dozen weapons. With each name he called, a corresponding weapon either flew out from the carriage and hovered, or rose from the ground and floated.
Xu Fengnian scanned the area and smiled without speaking further.
Wang Sheng, the young and fearless apprentice, was awestruck today. He no longer wondered why his master could accomplish such an unprecedented feat. If he had to ask for a reason, it was simple: because it was his master. Watching the martial experts rush forward like a tidal wave, Wang Sheng hurriedly warned his master, “They’re less than ten zhang away!”
Xu Fengnian softly chuckled, “Right now, I’m just a paper tiger. The problem is, can they get close enough to tear me down?”
Xu Fengnian raised his hand and gently clapped.
After the clap, not only did Yu Jia, Mo Shang Cao, and Da Shuang saber, along with other famous weapons, join the fray, but over twenty more long-dormant weapons instantly joined the battle.
Each weapon seemed to possess a spirit, either flying low and swiftly, or curving in arcs, or moving methodically, each seeking out an opponent. None of the first wave of over a dozen martial experts were spared. The remaining weapons did not interfere but leapt over the heads of the experts, seeking out the second wave of martial artists behind them.
Xu Fengnian no longer paid attention to the outcome of the battle. He turned to look at his apprentice’s dark face, glowing with excitement, and explained the essence of martial cultivation in the world in a simple yet profound manner: “Buddhism tames the mind-monkey, Daoism slays the three poisons, Confucianism nurtures the righteous qi. All these teachings emphasize forging one’s own body. Simply put, the human body itself is a battlefield. Just like an ordinary person catching a chill, someone with a strong constitution can recover by drinking some hot water, healing on their own. But someone with a weak body needs medicine—external help—to send reinforcements to the battlefield, or else their body will collapse like a mountain of defeated soldiers. As for how to temper the body, there are countless methods, but ultimately, it all comes down to the six words: skin, flesh, sinew, bone, qi, and spirit. You can understand skin, flesh, sinew, and bone. Except for those born with extraordinary strength, martial cultivators generally don’t differ much in physical strength. The real difference lies in the ‘qi.’ There’s a saying in martial cultivation: ‘Three years old can show the potential.’ This means that martial cultivation should begin early, when a child’s body is not yet heavily polluted, making it easier to cultivate meridians and nurture acupoints. Meridians are like the roads through which ‘qi’ flows, cycling endlessly. A few rare experts can circulate their qi through six or seven hundred miles in an instant. Acupoints are the very blessed lands within the human body. Master Lü once left a secret verse: ‘After sixty years of seeking immortals on the mountain, the real treasure lies within oneself.’ When people talk about someone’s talent, they are essentially referring to these two aspects.”
Wang Sheng listened in a daze, but the analogy of meridians as roads was not hard to understand. He whispered, “Master, in the past few years, I’ve traveled many places. Usually, official roads are winding and not smooth, let alone small paths. They are nothing compared to the The Post Road (yi lu), the roads reserved for military messengers, which are much easier to travel. So, are the experts’ qi something like traveling on the yi lu?”
Xu Fengnian was pleased and said, “Exactly. Roads outside the city are legally divided into five levels: lu, dao, tu, zhen, and jing. The yi lu is undoubtedly the fastest for delivering messages. But when you truly enter the inner sanctum of martial cultivation, you’ll realize there’s no fixed principle. Many unorthodox schools in the martial world have taken shortcuts in the matter of qi circulation, finding a shortcut through the Zhongnan Mountains. The four realms of the first level are taken from Buddhism’s Realm of the Indestructible (Jin Gang Jing), the Realm of the Indestructible being the indestructible golden body, while the Realm of Mystic Guidance (Zhi Xuan Jing) comes from Daoist immortals tapping their fingers and asking about eternal life. In my opinion, these two realms are not superior or inferior; however, outside the three major religions, martial cultivators usually believe that one must first have a strong body to generate qi, and then determine victory or defeat through combat. In this aspect, martial combat holds more weight.”
As the master and apprentice chatted casually, the first wave of martial experts mostly sensed the danger and wisely retreated. Among them, Fang Baigu of the Thousand-Handed Guanyin sect, who carried countless hidden weapons, was overly confident. However, as soon as he threw one hidden weapon from his sleeve, he was pierced through the neck by the saber Bo Zhuo. The strong man from the Southern Frontier, clutching his throat, staggered forward for dozens of steps before collapsing and dying. Another swordsman dressed in white was even more unfortunate. He encountered the legendary Da Shuang saber, one of the top ten famous sabers in the world. He turned to flee but was still pierced through the back by this divine weapon, unseen in the martial world for decades. His entire heart was torn apart, and he fell face-first to the ground, dead on the spot. Surprisingly, Zhou Mu, the Ink-Stained Sword, was the only one who could match the flying sword Yu Jia, though only barely.
Wang Sheng was puzzled and asked, “Master, why do these experts seem so worthless now? They’re like those fake martial manuals I bought for just a few silver coins. Is it just because you’re too strong?”
Xu Fengnian didn’t answer directly but said, “Wang Xianzhi once said that even if nine out of the ten top martial experts teamed up, he still believed he could kill them all before dying himself. This was not only Wang Xianzhi’s confidence as the number one expert in the world but also the proper demeanor of someone who dares to stand against the entire world alone.”
Wang Sheng looked admiringly and said, “Master, my idol, the martial arts master Lin Ya, is also one of Master Wang’s disciples.”
Xu Fengnian simply responded with a hum.
Someone on the city wall shouted, “Let’s team up and kill that kid together! Whoever succeeds takes the lion’s share! There’s no way we hundreds of people can’t take down one man!”
Soon, others chimed in, fanning the flames, “Right! Call on our friends in the city! Hundreds or even thousands of us! Even if everyone spits once, we can drown him!”
Wang Sheng was furious and said, “Master, these people are too shameless!”
Xu Fengnian smiled, stood up, placed the purple sandalwood sword case upright, one hand on the case and the other raised high, and solemnly said, “Please.”
Who would care about the broken Mu Ma Niu, once wielded by the legendary Yang Pi Qiu, who only appeared once every five hundred years?
Then what about Bo Zhuo, once wielded by Jiang Baishi? Or the swords Ren Zhen and Fang Xin, the two generations of sword champions from Sword Grave?
The martial world forgot.
But Xu Fengnian was determined to make the martial world remember them again!
After the word “Please,”
Nine swords from the case rushed out first, lining up in a straight line in the air before Xu Fengnian.
The weapons that had previously flown toward the city wall turned back, while those around the carriage and the carriage itself simultaneously radiated their own brilliance.
Four hundred and eighteen weapons.
Four hundred and eighteen streams of martial energy.
The sky and earth trembled.
The four hundred weapons lined up in a straight line.
Before Xu Fengnian, and beyond Martial Emperor City.
A tidal wave.
Who could get close?
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