Chapter 60: The So-called Inconsistent Art Style

As soon as she finished speaking, she drew her long sword and lunged at Meng Qi, completely disregarding whether he had agreed to fight or not.

Seeing that Meng Qi appeared even younger than herself, she refused to believe he could defeat the renowned martial artist “Monkey Shen.”

“Typical spoiled child…” Meng Qi muttered under his breath. However, eager to refine his saber techniques, he unsheathed his monk’s saber and struck from an angle that left Cui Jinxiu thoroughly unsettled, compelling her to withdraw her sword.

Cui Jinxiu had been praised since childhood by her father, elders, older brothers, and senior martial brothers for her martial talent. Fueled by this pride, her swordplay unfolded like a dragon—swift and agile, with flashes of cold light like a shuttle weaving through threads.

Meng Qi’s saber techniques alternated between open and grand, bold and unrestrained, and strange and unpredictable. He always managed to strike from angles where Cui Jinxiu felt vulnerable and uneasy, forcing her into a flustered state before she barely managed to stabilize her defense.

The clangs of blade meeting blade rang out continuously. Meng Qi wielded his saber techniques effortlessly, seamlessly switching between the “Five Tigers Breaking the Gate Saber” and the “Blood Saber Technique,” overwhelming Cui Jinxiu until she felt barely able to breathe, as though her defenses might be shattered at any moment.

After all, the “Ananda Oath-breaking Bladesmanship” was a supreme martial art at the pinnacle of the “Outer Scenery” realm. Though Meng Qi had only just begun to comprehend the essence and variations of its first stance, this alone granted him a far broader vision of blade techniques than most. Through his practice, his understanding of other saber arts deepened remarkably—surpassing even those who had dedicated a decade to the path of the blade. Yet, due to his lack of real combat experience, he had not yet fully synthesized all techniques into a seamless unity.

With a swift swing of his monastic knife, Meng Qi deflected Cui Jinxiu’s sword and retreated a few steps, chanting a Buddhist mantra: “Madam Cui, the night is deep; let us not disturb the tranquility of others.”

“Who else is here?” Cui Jinxiu replied, half-amused and half-annoyed.

Meng Qi smirked: “All things possess spirit; even flowers and grass have life. Disturbing them is not good either.”

The others were momentarily speechless.

After a while, Cui Jinxiu sheathed her sword and softly admitted: “Indeed, I am no match for you.”

Meng Qi chuckled: “Amitabha Buddha, you’re too kind.”

“Hmm… Master Zhen Ding, how does my martial skill compare to that of ‘Shen Hou’?” Cui Jinxiu asked eagerly, hoping to confirm her abilities.

“Madam Cui, your martial skills are superb. Despite not yet reaching adulthood, you already possess the strength of a seasoned expert. You and ‘Shen Hou’ are roughly equal. However, Shen Hou is cunning and experienced in the martial world, areas in which you still fall short.” Meng Qi could naturally see that Cui Jinxiu had already mastered the “Qi Accumulation” stage, and her sword techniques were quite formidable—far surpassing Master Zhang Zongxian and his wife. Yet compared to “Shen Hou,” she still lagged far behind in terms of inner strength, technique mastery, and martial world experience. Should they meet, she might even lose her life. However, there was no need to voice such harsh truths.

Cui Jinxiu’s face lit up with joy as she nodded generously: “Indeed, my experience in the martial world is limited. My family never allows me to travel alone.”

“Miss, the martial world is perilous; it’s not as comfortable as home,” the elderly white-haired man, who had remained silent until now, spoke kindly.

Pouting, Cui Jinxiu retorted: “Master He, a martial artist should travel the world, eliminating evildoers, aiding the innocent, and upholding justice. Only then can one justify a lifetime of martial cultivation. Staying at home all the time is too dull; adventuring in the martial world is far more exciting!”

Without waiting for the old man’s reaction, she turned to Madam Li Xinyu and her husband: “Sister Xinyu, it’s inconvenient to stand here talking. Let’s go into the city first.”

Everyone—Zhang Zongxian, Li Xinyu, and even Meng Qi—enthusiastically agreed.

With the city lord’s daughter present, the guards at the gate naturally posed no obstacles. After checking their credentials, they opened a small side gate to let the group in.

At this moment, Zhang Zongxian approached Meng Qi and whispered softly into his ear: “Master Zhen Ding, we haven’t revealed your martial secrets.”

Such personal secrets, combined with Meng Qi’s status as their savior, meant he had not spread them.

Meng Qi was quite satisfied with this.

The streets within the city were wide and clean, with little litter, giving Meng Qi a direct impression of the city lord’s administrative capabilities.

After walking a few steps, Cui Jinxiu, brimming with curiosity, asked: “Master Zhen Ding, have you heard any legends about immortals in the far west?”

“Legends about immortals?” Meng Qi looked at her in confusion.

Li Xinyu smiled and explained: “Jinxiu loves reading strange and supernatural tales and enjoys talking about immortals.”

“They’re not just stories!” Cui Jinxiu immediately retorted, her face slightly flushed. “Many major martial sects have records of their founding masters ascending to immortality.”

“Haha, every sect likes to embellish their ancestors’ achievements. Tell me, where exactly did they ascend to?” Li Xinyu teased.

Cui Jinxiu had thought deeply about these questions many times, and Li Xinyu’s question struck a chord. Her eyes sparkling, she eagerly replied: “Of course, they ascended to the Immortal Realm! I’ve even read Snow Goddess Palace’s descriptions of the Immortal Realm!”

Knowing Meng Qi was unfamiliar with the Snow Goddess Palace, she paused briefly before elaborating: “The Snow Goddess Palace always claims that their ascended ancestors became deities, sending down numerous divine decrees. These decrees describe the Immortal Realm as a place filled with abundant primordial energy, where cultivation is extremely fast. Almost everyone can strengthen their bodies, and the land is filled with medicinal herbs and immortal plants. Demons and spirits serve as attendants, while true immortals possess the power to pluck stars and moons, and move mountains and seas.”

“This…” Meng Qi frowned slightly as he listened, unable to help thinking of his own Fangzhang Island, which probably could move mountains and seas.

“Legends from ancient times often carry an air of mystery. Let’s take the past sixty years as a test—have there been any verified cases of ascending to the Immortal Realm?” Zhang Zongxian, skeptical of supernatural tales, interjected.

Cui Jinxiu sighed softly: “I know that. That’s why whenever I read these accounts, I always feel a sense of longing, imagining the immortals of old who could summon winds and rains and freeze rivers. Alas, such grandeur no longer exists in our time. Has the martial path truly reached its limit at the ‘Three Secret Treasures’?”

“Jinxiu, don’t take stories too seriously. In the past few centuries, has any official record ever mentioned someone breaking through the Three Secret Treasures and leaving behind corresponding techniques?” Li Xinyu gently stroked Cui Jinxiu’s hair.

Cui Jinxiu shook her head: “In ancient times, the Snow Goddess Palace claimed to have discovered the path to transcend the Three Secret Treasures and break the boundary between mortals and gods.”

“That’s why they became delusional, went mad, and became enemies of the entire world,” Li Xinyu half-seriously, half-mockingly replied, trying to discourage Cui Jinxiu.

Cui Jinxiu’s expression dimmed as she said: “That’s why I’ve always wanted to see the Snow Goddess Palace’s records about the Secret Treasures, but they’ve long been buried by time, leaving no trace.”

“It’s not entirely impossible, Jinxiu. Do you know why we were chased by the Twelve Beasts?” Li Xinyu began guiding the conversation.

“Why?” Cui Jinxiu, ever the curious young girl, was immediately intrigued.

“Because we obtained a treasure map—the Snow Goddess Palace treasure map,” Li Xinyu said through gritted teeth.

“Really?” Cui Jinxiu was both surprised and delighted. “Sister Xinyu, may I take a look?”

“Miss, too many people are listening. Let’s discuss this at home,” Master He reminded them, casting a wary glance at Meng Qi.

Zhang Zongxian laughed: “Master Zhen Ding already knows about this, but he is a hermit of high cultivation, with no trace of greed in his heart.”

Meng Qi had been watching coldly from the sidelines, unwilling to continue the conversation. Deliberately sighing, he said: “Speaking of immortals who can summon winds and rains, I have indeed seen one.”

“What?” Cui Jinxiu’s eyes widened with surprise and excitement as she stared at Meng Qi.

Li Xinyu and Zhang Zongxian were equally shocked and doubtful, mostly disbelieving.

Master He kept his head lowered, seemingly indifferent, as if Meng Qi were merely telling a story to entertain the young girl.

“I once saw an immortal capable of summoning winds and rains in the far west,” Meng Qi repeated.

“Really? Master, what was it like back then?” Cui Jinxiu’s face flushed red, a mix of joy, excitement, and slight doubt.

Meng Qi gazed at the brightly lit street ahead and said: “That person hadn’t ascended yet, so he wasn’t a true immortal. However, when he unleashed his full power, fierce winds howled, dark clouds gathered, lightning flashed, thunder roared, and raindrops fell. Every punch he threw was accompanied by whirlwinds and falling lightning, displaying terrifying, unmatched power.”

“This… this is almost like what I’ve read? Could there really be immortals…” Cui Jinxiu was so excited that she stammered. “Master Zhen Ding, did you personally meet this immortal?”

I did… watched him get killed, Meng Qi muttered inwardly: “No, but I’ve heard other legends about immortals—how two immortals once fought, leaving a hundred-mile wasteland and freezing a great river…”

“A hundred-mile wasteland… a frozen great river…” Cui Jinxiu imagined the scene, momentarily lost in thought.

Next to her, Zhang Zongxian and Li Xinyu regained their composure, mostly dismissing Meng Qi as a monk telling stories to humor Cui Jinxiu. What was his purpose? Did he want to befriend Lord Cui?

After muttering to herself for a while, Cui Jinxiu snapped out of her trance and began asking Meng Qi about the details of what he had seen. Since these were based on Meng Qi’s firsthand experiences, every detail felt so real that even Zhang Zongxian and Li Xinyu began to doubt—could this story be real?

Only Master He remained expressionless, as if watching a few young people boasting and joking around.

“There really are immortals… but why is there no path beyond the Three Secret Treasures?” Cui Jinxiu asked casually, a question rooted in her family’s martial knowledge. Someone else might not even know such things.

Of course, she didn’t really expect Meng Qi to answer.

“Perhaps one must await the convergence of inner and outer realms,” Meng Qi casually replied, echoing the common knowledge shared by Jiang Zhiwei and others.

“The convergence of inner and outer realms… interesting phrasing,” Cui Jinxiu mused with a smile. Zhang Zongxian and Li Xinyu couldn’t grasp its meaning and simply smiled in agreement.

However, Master He’s expression subtly changed. Barely audible, he muttered: “Convergence of inner and outer realms… what is the inner realm? How does one converge…”

He narrowed his eyes and quietly studied Meng Qi.

Cui Jinxiu continued enthusiastically with her immortal topic: “Master Zhen Ding, which direction did that immortal go?”

“He perished,” Meng Qi answered honestly.

“What? Can immortals die too?” Cui Jinxiu asked in shock.

Meng Qi smiled: “He hadn’t ascended yet, so he wasn’t a true immortal.”

This was something he had already clarified earlier.

“But… but…” Cui Jinxiu tried to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she composed herself and smiled: “Master Zhen Ding, a monk saying ‘perished’ sounds a bit odd.”

That was a Daoist term!

Meng Qi smiled: “Madam Cui, you may not know, the current artistic style is just off.”

“Artistic style is off?” Cui Jinxiu blinked, puzzled.

Meng Qi grinned: “It’s like when you scribble randomly on a traditional ink painting—it just looks off…”

He paused, looking ahead at a man emerging from a tavern. Noticing the obvious lump on the man’s forehead and his distinctive features, Meng Qi smiled and said: “Madam Cui, let me show you what ‘off artistic style’ really means.”

Without waiting for Cui Jinxiu and the others to react, he walked straight toward the man from the tavern, clasped his palms together, and solemnly said: “Amitabha Buddha, this layman, I observe that your hall of impressions is darkened…”