The glimmer of the blade’s light was hazy and boundless, transforming into countless scenes. Duan Mingcheng seemed to witness the reconstruction of the Snow Goddess Palace, the martial world submitting to his every command without hesitation, the shattering of the boundary between mortals and immortals, ascending to the pinnacle, and soaring into the skies with beauties by his side. These visions were so beautiful and intoxicating that they overwhelmed the senses, making them utterly irresistible.
The light faded, and the crowd dispersed. Duan Mingcheng awoke as if from a dream, feeling an immense sense of loss and longing to return to that moment.
He sighed and said, “Ah, the master’s blade technique is divine, striking straight to the heart. This old man is ashamed of his own inadequacy.”
Duan Xiangfei’s tone, laden with disappointment, completely awakened Duan Mingcheng. Staring at Zhen Ding’s pristine white monk’s robe, which seemed to transcend the earthly realm, and recalling the indescribable brilliance of that blade’s radiance, Duan Mingcheng felt a tremor in his heart. This was truly a blade technique that had reached divine mastery! It truly lived up to its reputation!
Before his eyes, an immense and profound world unfolded once more, brimming with endless mysteries. Previously, he had been like a frog at the bottom of a well—narrow-minded and shallow—even doubting Zhending’s mastery of blade techniques. Who could have imagined such an extraordinary blade technique existed in this world!
Meng Qi had struck Duan Xiangfei with the flat of his blade and pulled back at the last moment, so the blow caused no serious injury—only a few coughs. However, Duan Xiangfei’s heart was deeply wounded. Rebuilding the Snow Goddess Palace had been his lifelong obsession for decades, and now, stirred by the “Return to the Mundane” technique, he naturally felt hurt and ashamed, unable to shake off the dark emotions for a long time.
“Amitabha, if the benefactor’s heart is pure, this humble monk’s blade would find no opening. The benefactor has lost to yourself,” Meng Qi naturally seized the opportunity to cultivate the image of a high-ranking monk.
Duan Xiangfei, after all, was an old fox. After taking a deep breath, his expression returned to normal. “There’s no need for the master to say more. This old man knows his own affairs well. Let’s set off tomorrow and take a boat to Changhua Temple. How about that?”
“How many days will it take?” Meng Qi was most concerned about this point. He was somewhat exhausted now, but he was not afraid of Duan Xiangfei causing trouble. If the latter had ill intentions, he still had the “Sacrificial Body Formula” to enhance his blade technique, the “Bitterly Fragrant Wind,” and the “Fatal Projectile upon Sight”—killing Duan would be no problem.
Without hesitation, Duan Xiangfei replied, “If the wind is favorable, we can arrive in about ten days.”
If the wind is favorable, we could arrive tomorrow… Meng Qi thought to himself, making a cold joke that wasn’t even funny. “Very well then, Old Duan, do you remember my previous request? I’d appreciate it if you could help me gather some common martial arts manuals, preferably ones involving Acupoint striking.”
Duan Xiangfei was extremely shrewd and would not ask unnecessary questions. He smiled and said, “That’s simple enough.”
Meng Qi nodded. Just as he was about to ask Duan Xiangfei to prepare a room for cultivation, a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Old Duan, you mentioned that I can slice through the void and ascend to the Buddhist Pure Land with a single stroke of my blade. Wouldn’t it be troublesome for me to continue wandering the martial world like this? Shouldn’t I disguise myself and adopt an alias?”
“No problem. Changhua Temple lies far to the west, while Tianding City is to the east, nearly a month’s journey apart. People nearby shouldn’t recognize the master. Besides,” Duan Mingcheng said with a sage-like smile, “even if someone recognizes you, I’ll say the master saw the difficulty of breaking the boundary between mortals and deities in this world, so he descended specially to teach the great Dharma and save all beings.”
“Old Duan, your talent for making excuses surpasses your martial talent,” Meng Qi said “sincerely.” This guy’s lying skills were definitely maxed out—truly a sly old fox!
In truth, Meng Qi didn’t care much about this issue. With his current strength, although he couldn’t claim to be unbeatable across the land, he could hold a slight advantage over even a Grandmaster. As long as he wasn’t surrounded by several Grandmasters at once, he wouldn’t face any real danger.
“Thank you for the master’s praise,” Duan Xiangfei replied with a smile, not the least bit embarrassed.
…
The next day, under the guidance of Duan Xiangfei and Duan Mingcheng, Meng Qi, who was beginning to refine his Acupoints, arrived at the riverside. There, already moored, was a grand and luxurious pleasure boat adorned with carved railings and jade-like decorations.
“This was prepared last night by Mingcheng notifying my subordinates,” Duan Xiangfei casually explained as he led Meng Qi onto the deck and into a cabin. Inside, beautiful maids served tea and attended to them meticulously.
Smiling, Meng Qi watched the maids flit about like dancing butterflies and chirping birds, making a joke: “Old Duan, the first time I met you, you were just on a small broken boat. I never expected you to have such a luxurious pleasure boat. A true master never reveals himself easily.”
Duan Xiangfei lifted his teacup, took a sip, and chuckled, “This old man is used to a leisurely life. I just enjoy boating. This time, I was afraid of treating the master disrespectfully.”
“Does I look like a gluttonous monk?” Meng Qi smiled, though he clearly was one.
Duan Xiangfei nodded slightly. “It was my oversight. The master is above worldly matters and wouldn’t indulge in luxury. How about we switch to a simpler boat?”
Meng Qi leisurely skimmed the tea’s surface with the lid, saying calmly, “It’s fine. This humble monk can endure simple food and also enjoy luxurious service.”
“Simple food is emptiness, and luxurious service is also emptiness. The master is truly an enlightened high-ranking monk,” Duan Xiangfei said after a moment, praising him.
That’s your interpretation… Meng Qi smiled, a bit stiffly.
Over the next ten days or so, Meng Qi continuously refined his Acupoints, practiced the “Illusory Form Great Technique” and the fifth level of the “Golden Bell Cover,” trained the “Return to the Mundane” technique, pondered the “Yama Edict,” and occasionally read the “Unique Sword of Solitude,” keeping himself quite busy.
Although cultivation in this world was relatively slower compared to the main world, Meng Qi had already unsealed his acupoints, and with the aid of the “Hollow Form Enhancing Splendor Pill,” the pace was balanced out. Opening the ear acupoints required either forced breakthroughs or gradual tempering, which was unrelated to the world itself. Progress in blade and sword techniques primarily depended on personal insight, experience, and sparring with suitable opponents, which also wasn’t affected by the environment. Therefore, the main challenges were the slow advancement in refining the fifth level of the “Golden Bell Shield” to completion and the “Illusory Form Great Technique.”
However, perhaps due to his shallow foundation in swordsmanship and the difficulty of entering the “Unique Sword of Solitude,” Meng Qi hadn’t made any progress by the time they reached the “Ningcheng” where Changhua Temple was located.
“Master, it’s getting late. Let’s rest in the city for a day and proceed to Changhua Temple outside the city tomorrow,” Duan Mingcheng suggested along the way. He had been very attentive throughout the journey because the occasional insights into martial principles from Master Zhen Ding’s conversations were deeply enlightening.
Meng Qi looked at Duan Xiangfei and Duan Mingcheng and smiled, “Guest follows host’s lead. However, I need to go to a bookstore to buy a copy of the “Yi.”
“Yijing?” Duan Xiangfei asked curiously. This world indeed had the “Yijing,” but it was strange for a monk to read it.
“Just to draw inferences by analogy,” Meng Qi naturally wouldn’t say he was catching up on basic knowledge, and the entry into the “Unique Sword of Solitude” did involve some elements of the “Yijing.”
Duan Xiangfei asked no further questions, instructing Duan Mingcheng to go ahead and prepare at the inn while he and Meng Qi leisurely strolled through the bustling market, bought the “Yijing,” and then entered a lively tavern.
As soon as they stepped in, a cacophony of voices came rushing at them. Meng Qi, having nearly completed the refinement of the Acupoints related to his hearing, slightly focused his mind and could distinguish different voices. Some were discussing the provincial examination, others boasting about slaying bandits in the mountains, and some exchanging recent news from the martial world. Among them were mentions of Meng Qi, such as how Master Zhen Ding was highly respected, with a white beard reaching his chest, and how someone had the honor of meeting him and receiving his teachings. There were also discussions about how several Grandmasters had been inspired and were eager to touch the boundary between mortals and deities.
“We initially believed there was no path beyond the Grandmaster realm, but Master Zhen Ding has cleaved through with a single blade stroke, forging a way between mortals and gods. Truly, it is a blessing for the martial world!”
Upon hearing such words, Meng Qi and Duan Xiangfei exchanged a smile, then ascended to the second floor. Since there were no private rooms, they found a window-side seat.
“Near the Changhua Temple, there’s a ‘Snow-Cleaving Blade.’ If the master wishes to spar, this old man can show you the way,” Duan Xiangfei said with a smile.
Meng Qi nodded. “Thank you.”
After ordering a few vegetarian dishes, Duan Xiangfei suddenly sighed, “The boundary between mortals and deities is elusive. Besides the master, I wonder who else has hope of reaching it…”
“What do you think, Old Duan?” Meng Qi smiled, looking at Duan Xiangfei.
Duan Xiangfei pondered for a moment before replying, “Cui Xu is exceptionally talented and determined. He has refined his forehead Acupoint twice, equivalent to mastering the Illusory Form Technique to perfection, and has opened other spiritual treasures. If he survives, he might truly touch the boundary between mortals and deities.”
Meng Qi’s expression remained unchanged as he replied, “Cui Xu is too eager for quick success and has lost his foundation. Even if he opens the boundary between mortals and deities, it will only be a fleeting moment, like a flower that blooms and vanishes without a trace, leaving only a lingering shadow.”
“What about Luo Qing? He is young but has already opened his spiritual treasures on his own. His swordsmanship is exceptional, nearly reaching the divine level. Given time, he might also open the boundary between mortals and deities,” Duan Xiangfei pressed on.
Meng Qi thought for a moment and replied, “Many prodigies shine brightly in childhood but become ordinary in adulthood. Luo Qing still has a long way to go before reaching the boundary between mortals and deities. There are many obstacles ahead, making it hard to say if he has hope unless he gains a great opportunity.”
Duan Xiangfei straightened his back, his eyes shining with intensity as he looked at Meng Qi and asked, “What about me? Do I have any hope?”
Meng Qi suddenly felt like laughing. It felt like a scene from the “Feast at Hong Gate,” but it was a good opportunity. He suppressed his smile and replied seriously, “Old Duan, you’ve strayed far from the right path. Unless you can find your way back, you won’t have hope.”
“Strayed from the right path…” Duan Xiangfei’s expression darkened as he murmured to himself. He seemed to want to ask Meng Qi how to find his way back but couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he asked, “In the master’s opinion, which Grandmaster has the greatest hope of breaking the boundary between mortals and deities?”
Meng Qi lifted his teacup, gently swirling the tea, and imitated Cao Ameng’s tone as he said, “Among all the Grandmasters in the world, only the Miserable Monk of the Faxuan Sect has hope.”
This was the truth. No one else’s body could withstand the backlash of opening the spiritual treasures and bridging the heavens. Only the Miserable Monk, with decades of pure yang celibacy training, had some hope. Of course, he first needed to find a method to open the spiritual treasures.
“What a bold claim,” Duan Xiangfei had not yet spoken when a voice came from the stairs. It was mature and deep, yet unmistakably female.
Duan Xiangfei turned around and saw a stunning woman dressed in crimson court robes and an expressionless middle-aged man entering together. The woman was extraordinarily beautiful, her curvaceous figure resembling a ripe fruit on the verge of bursting with fullness. However, what drew Meng Qi’s attention was the long sword hanging at her waist. The blade was extremely slender, appearing as though it might snap at any moment.
“I was wondering who it was. It’s just the Hermit Master,” the middle-aged beauty said half mockingly. “I wonder what ‘high-ranking monk’ this is. Please introduce him, Hermit Master. I’d like to see what qualifications he has to comment on the Grandmasters of the world.”
Duan Xiangfei remained expressionless, smiling as he turned to Meng Qi and said, “This is Lady Che, Che Wansiu, with the elegant title ‘Snow-Cutting Blade,’ and this is her husband, Master Xiang.”
Because Che Wansiu was a Grandmaster, others introduced her as Lady Che rather than Lady Xiang.
Meng Qi grasped his meaning and gave a slight nod, signaling that there was no need to conceal his identity. After all, he would eventually cross blades with the Snow-Cutting Saber.
Receiving Meng Qi’s approval, Duan Xiangfei stood up with a smile and said to Che Wansiu, “Lady Che, this monk indeed has the qualifications to comment on the Grandmasters of the world.”
Before Che Wansiu could speak, he added, “His Dharma name is Zhen Ding.”
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