The golden Buddha statue, with a broad, ever-smiling face, seemed to have witnessed all the worldly grudges and struggles in life’s bitter sea, as if to say, why not just smile?
Facing it sat the Demon Queen, dressed in a white gauze dress, legs crossed in a posture of neither reverence nor disrespect.
Escorting the Sword Emperor to his end? Meng Qi was momentarily stunned. Could it be that, aside from the invasion of external demons, his return to this world was also tied to karmic reasons?
In the past, the Sword Emperor had cherished talented individuals and generously offered guidance, providing a profound perspective that had greatly benefited Meng Qi’s sword techniques. Now, as the Sword Emperor approached the twilight of his life, it was quite a coincidence that Meng Qi could do something for him.
While his thoughts churned, Meng Qi remained outwardly calm, still standing with his hands behind his back, gazing at the smiling Buddha statue: “I was moved by stillness and decided to venture out to meet old acquaintances. How could I forget the Sword Emperor? He once guided me with kindness.”
He and the Demon Queen each stared at the golden Buddha in front of them, their eyes never meeting, as if they were merely speaking to themselves.
“Suddenly appearing, then later treating fame and fortune as dung, vanishing without a trace—could there really be a hidden sect in the world?” The Demon Queen slowly stood up and looked at Meng Qi, her voice carrying the huskiness that made her most seductive.
She seemed to expect no answer to that question. After a pause, she asked, “Where is your sword?”
Would the “Soul-Shaking Sword” Meng Qi really be without a sword?
Dressed in a green robe, Meng Qi stood empty-handed, his blades stored within the mustard seed ring. He smiled faintly at her question: “I forgot.”
He turned his gaze to the Demon Queen. Her white gauze clung tightly to her body, accentuating every curve without revealing a single inch of skin, yet it left one’s mouth dry with desire. Her face remained veiled, her peerless beauty only vaguely visible, yet all the more enchanting. Imagination always painted the most beautiful picture.
Yet this bewitching creature, standing silently amidst the meditation hall, the cushion, the Buddha statue, the incense table, and the wooden fish, blended perfectly with the serene atmosphere. She neither seemed worldly nor transcendent, as if she had always belonged in this place, as if it was only natural she should stand here.
“Heaven and Man as One…” Meng Qi sighed inwardly. Back then, his insight had not been keen enough—he had underestimated a Grand Master. If not for Ruan Yushu’s qin music and the Demon Queen merely testing his strength, treating him as a potential ally without truly regarding him as a threat, how could he, with what virtue or capability, have severed a lock of her hair and knocked off her veil?
Only when confronting Grand Masters of equal cultivation level would there be extraordinary phenomena like lightning and thunder. Aside from insufficient cultivation, the need for qi resonance, and the closeness of their strengths, it was difficult to control such situations.
Of course, the Demon Queen of today was undoubtedly stronger than before. Back then, her Heaven and Man Unity still had flaws, while the Sword Emperor had been half a step ahead, achieving perfect Heaven and Man Unity, searching for his own path. Meng Qi wondered if he had found it yet…
Feeling Meng Qi’s gaze—pure admiration without a trace of lust or desire—the Demon Queen calmly asked, “Did you just forget your sword?”
“How could I have reached the state of forgetting my sword? I just left it behind at the inn,” Meng Qi replied with a teasing smile.
Meng Qi turned around, treating this peerless beauty as casually as a meditation cushion or incense burner, hands behind his back, strolling slowly toward the door as if walking in a leisurely courtyard.
The Demon Queen made no attempt to stop him. She turned her gaze back to the Buddha statue, her voice distant: “The Living Buddha has also arrived in the capital. He once declared he would redeem you.”
“From this shore to the other shore—why would I need redemption?” Meng Qi laughed lightly, stepped across the threshold, and walked toward the main hall.
Before the side hall stood a tree, its canopy like an umbrella, the stone bricks dark gray, with weeds growing between them. The green-robed figure slowly disappeared through the doorway.
“Master, who is that expert?” Several white-clad women standing beside the Demon Queen whispered.
Why had he appeared so mysteriously, only to leave just as mysteriously?
And why had the Master allowed it?
The several demon sect guards at the entrance shared the same confusion, straining their ears to hear the answer.
The Demon Queen spoke calmly: “Few are the people the Living Buddha has declared he will redeem, and even fewer still remain alive.”
The white-clad women pondered deeply. Suddenly, one of them gasped: “Soul-Shaking Sword?”
In the past, “Soul-Shaking Sword” Meng Qi had stormed into the Yunyan Pavilion, abducted the real envoy, and slaughtered him outside. Later, he had stirred up chaos in the capital, foiling the Western barbarians’ plans, which had prompted the Living Buddha to make his declaration. But since then, Meng Qi had vanished without a trace, and even the Living Buddha had been unable to find him, so the matter had gradually quieted down.
“Soul-Shaking Sword Meng Qi?” The demon sect guards outside also blurted it out.
At the name… they exchanged glances, as if sensing the damp scent of an approaching storm.
He had actually come too!
So the capital was truly gathering experts from all directions!
Could the Sword Emperor’s situation once again trigger a major upheaval like in the past?
…
The door to the most luxurious private room in Xiaoxiang Pavilion was half-open, allowing servants to deliver dishes and wine.
Passersby couldn’t help but glance toward the room, for inside were great figures of the current martial world—renowned experts, second only to the non-human Grand Masters.
This was a world where martial arts could rival imperial power, where martial experts naturally became objects of courtship and attention, often basking in admiration.
“I think Ruzhen cast a flirtatious glance at me just now. Perhaps I’ll have some romantic luck tonight?” Changsun Jing laughed heartily after finishing a cup.
He had grown broad-shouldered and muscular, his demeanor heroic and spirited, his youthful look replaced by a more mature air, his manner bold and open.
Ruzhen was the most famous courtesan in Xiaoxiang Pavilion.
“Perhaps she was smiling at this humble monk instead?” Sitting opposite Changsun Jing was a monk, dressed in white robes, his shoes and socks spotless, giving an impression of absolute purity. It was none other than the famous Ruyi Monk.
Changsun Jing laughed: “Master is reminding me that one character is monk, two characters are monk, three characters are the Palace of Bliss, four characters are lustful demons?”
“This humble monk is no lecherous monk, but Lady Ruzhen often contemplates Buddhist teachings,” Ruyi Monk replied with a smile, avoiding further discussion. Then he changed the topic: “It has been three years, and you’ve grown so strong. Truly, youth surpasses the old; a new generation replaces the old.”
“I am indeed a rare martial prodigy of a hundred years,” Changsun Jing joked, then turned serious. “Martial cultivation requires training and combat. The army is the best place for that. I followed General Lu on campaigns east and west, fought Western barbarian experts, and battled the demon sect disciples under the Seventh Prince. With guidance from the late Meng the Great, my progress has been swift—far beyond what a wine-loving monk like you could match.”
Ruyi Monk sighed: “Indeed, you are a martial prodigy. Back then during the resistance against the Western barbarians, I merely offered a few words of advice and fought beside you, yet you managed to grasp the secrets of my fists and palms and incorporate them into your saber techniques.”
Their friendship had been forged on the battlefield, deep and enduring.
“Unfortunately, there has been no news of Meng the Great ever since. I’ve been unable to show him my mastery of saber techniques,” Changsun Jing said. Meng Qi had been the first expert to properly guide him after his unexpected fortune, and his gratitude was deep and lasting.
At these words, Ruyi Monk was momentarily stunned, as if recalling his own battle with the “Soul-Shaking Sword” Meng Qi, who had killed the Crown Prince before their very eyes, escaping despite the presence of many experts.
“He was young yet indifferent to fame and fortune, like a wandering cloud or a wild crane, appearing only briefly—truly evoking sighs of admiration and regret.”
Just then, they heard a knock—dong, dong, dong.
Who could it be? Their pupils shrank simultaneously as they turned their heads.
Someone had approached without either of them sensing it!
“An old friend visits,” came a voice, faintly smiling, before the knock even finished.
They saw a green-robed young nobleman standing leisurely by the door, his right fingers still curled as if mid-knock.
Changsun Jing blinked, unable to match this person with the image he had of that past figure. His features had matured, his looks even more refined, but his demeanor had softened from cold severity into a gentle, breezy lake rather than a frozen sea.
“Me… Meng the Great,” Changsun Jing finally stammered, rising in both shock and joy.
With his confirmation, Ruyi Monk dared to believe it was truly the “Soul-Shaking Sword” Meng Qi.
Though the “Soul-Shaking Sword” of old had possessed peerless sword techniques, his actual cultivation level had still been shallow enough for them to see the bottom. But now, he was like an unfathomable sea or a distant, star-filled sky, evoking only four words in Ruyi Monk’s mind: unfathomable depth.
Meng Qi smiled and nodded: “It’s been many years. You’ve become a renowned expert yourself.”
Seeing how much his old friend had changed, Meng Qi felt a sense of time’s passage.
Changsun Jing wasn’t that old yet—only twenty-three or twenty-four. He laughed and said, “Only five years have passed. Meng the Great, it seems your cultivation has aged you less than me.”
Then, growing serious, he bowed respectfully: “Thank you for your guidance back then. Without Meng the Great, there would be no Changsun Jing of today.”
“No need to keep calling me ‘Great.’ Just ‘Xiao Meng’ or ‘Master Meng’ will do,” Meng Qi said casually, sitting down and pouring himself a cup.
“I’ve been still for too long and felt the urge to move. I’ve just arrived in the capital and am still unclear about the situation. Who will brief me on what’s happened in these five years?”
Changsun Jing hurriedly replied: “Five years ago, the current Emperor ascended the throne. General Lu was appointed commander-in-chief and led the army northward to resist the Western barbarians. For the first two years, the Western barbarians were strong, and in the southeast, the Seventh Prince raised a rebellion, making things extremely difficult. Thanks to the Emperor’s firm resolve and the assistance of righteous martial experts like Master Ruyi, and especially the Sword Emperor’s half-move victory over the Living Buddha on the grasslands, we finally turned the tide and achieved victory. Two years ago, the Western barbarians were driven beyond the pass, and General Lu led his forces southward to confront the Seventh Prince. Now, we are on the verge of final victory, needing only to consolidate our position and seize the final triumph.”
“But a month and a half ago, the Emperor urgently summoned the Right Chancellor from the battlefield back to the capital to suppress unrest. Everyone believes the Sword Emperor’s time is nearly up, so General Lu sent me back to investigate.”
“There are credible signs that this generation’s Living Buddha has secretly entered the capital with the Western barbarian envoy, hiding in the Yunyan Pavilion, seeking to avenge his past defeat. It’s also suspected that the Demon Queen, who supports the Seventh Prince, and the retired National Teacher will not remain idle.”
Meng Qi slowly nodded: “So that’s how it is.”
For him, that was enough to know. He had no interest in meddling further in other matters.
Ruyi Monk thought for a moment and smiled: “Master Meng, you must be cautious around the Living Buddha. Back then, he publicly declared he would redeem you. If you meet him today, he might make good on that promise.”
Changsun Jing, familiar with this old case, also warned with a furrowed brow: “The Living Buddha lineage possesses the secret technique of Crown Empowerment, which allows them to inherit ancestral essence, memories, and knowledge. While the former is limited by physical constraints, the latter grants each generation of Living Buddhas immense wisdom and mental strength. There are rumors they can pull people from past lives, like gods or Buddhas, possessing unique supernatural abilities different from other Grand Masters. Moreover, their ‘Solar Flaming Wheel’ martial technique has been famous for generations.”
Meng Qi listened quietly, then suddenly smiled: “Are either of you interested in joining me somewhere?”
“Where to?” Changsun Jing and Ruyi Monk asked in unison.
Meng Qi patted his green robe, smiled, and stood up:
“Yunyan Pavilion.”
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