Chapter 1074:

Xu Fengnian glanced at the young man whose internal energy was surging violently. In the martial world, there were countless “second-generation elites” with powerful mentors, but someone like Wei Hongji was truly a rare gem. He teased, “What, planning to intimidate others with your master’s reputation?”

Wei Hongji shook his head with genuine sincerity. “I dare not, nor do I wish to.”

Xu Fengnian curled his lips, neither confirming nor denying.

A young hero, lacking both Wei Hongji’s discernment and patience, strode forward boldly, laughing heartily. “Brother Wei, leave this violent brute to me. Consider it my contribution to cleansing the martial world.”

Wei Hongji shook his head again, signaling caution.

A breeze swept across the mountaintop.

Everyone turned their heads in unison to see two figures ascending the peak, swords strapped to their backs, arriving at Guan Nan Terrace. Both exuded an air of extraordinary elegance.

One of them held the pitiful child aloft, glaring fiercely. “There’s a limit to throwing things around. Whoever did this, step forward. I promise I’ll only beat you half to death!”

Xu Fengnian pointed at Wei Hongji, who had no time to explain—nor could he even if he tried.

A sword’s energy arrived in an instant!

The next moment, the tip of the sword hovered just an inch from Wei Hongji’s chest, its green glow tearing through his robes in a flash.

Standing at death’s door, Wei Hongji remained motionless—this time, he truly dared not move.

The young swordsman, whose appearance surpassed even Wei Hongji’s, slowly withdrew his sword and sheathed it behind his back, frowning. “Pathetic. Utterly boring.”

He even reached behind his head to pat the hilt of his sword, chuckling softly. “Apologies, my dear. Next time, I’ll find you a more fitting opponent.”

Wei Hongji, defeated in a single move, stood pale-faced, sweat pouring down his forehead.

The two uninvited guests both carried their swords strapped to their backs rather than at their waists. The one who had struck was strikingly handsome, exuding the heroic aura typical of northern men—tall, imposing, and majestic. His companion, a female attendant of the same age, carried her sword sheath slung diagonally across her back. Though her stature matched a man’s, her charm was undeniably captivating.

With their looks alone, they were already halfway to conquering the martial world.

The child, finally finding his footing, snapped back to reality and stumbled tearfully to his sister’s side. She knelt to embrace him, soothing him gently.

The swordsman turned with a smile. “Qing Yuan, what do you think of this view for sword contemplation?”

The woman, whose eyes naturally brimmed with emotion, gazed into the distance, taking in the vast landscape before nodding.

The young swordsman, who had effortlessly humbled Wei Hongji, sighed in relief. “At least this trip wasn’t wasted.”

Upon hearing the name “Qing Yuan,” Wei Hongji’s frustration vanished, replaced by excitement. “You’re Wu Wushan, the current Sword Crown of the Wu Family Sword Tomb, and Qing Yuan, the Sword Attendant?!”

The man raised an eyebrow. “You know us?”

Wei Hongji wiped his sweat and smiled candidly. “Your reputations precede you, like thunder echoing in my ears.”

Wu Wushan scoffed. “Titles and lineages—such scholarly nonsense. Vulgar beyond belief.”

Qing Yuan, the Sword Attendant, ignored everyone, walking straight to the southern edge of Guan Nan Terrace. She sat cross-legged, placing her sword sheath across her lap, hands folded over her abdomen, leaving the crowd with an enigmatic silhouette.

Wu Wushan followed his attendant, then turned back with disdain. “You can all scram now. Don’t disturb Qing Yuan’s sword contemplation.”

Wei Hongji opened his mouth but swallowed his words, left with nothing but a bitter smile.

Defeated by superior skill, he could only accept the humiliation.

Compared to others like Dou Changfeng, the disciple of the famed “Divine Fist” Feng Zongxi, Wei Hongji—though also one of the Ten Young Masters—far surpassed them in both temperament and cultivation. Otherwise, figures like Li Baiyi, the current sect master of Dongyue Sword Pool, Zhang Chunlin of the Youyan Manor, and Wei Chi Duquan of the Kuai Xue Manor wouldn’t have befriended him.

Wei Hongji harbored no resentment toward the man who had shifted blame onto him. Instead, he clasped his fists in farewell.

The woman from the Fufeng Ma Clan of Liaodong understood the gravity of the situation. While the martial world at large bowed to the imperial court, a select few still held themselves above kings and nobles. Unfortunately, the two Wu Family disciples before her—whose lineage embodied “the sword arts of the world”—belonged to that elite group. Thus, she refrained from pressing the issue, especially after seeing her brother unharmed. Her desire to confront the peculiar master-servant pair faded entirely.

After all, the previous generation’s Sword Attendant of the Wu Family was a true female sword immortal, one of the rare grandmasters listed in the martial rankings.

The new Sword Crown, Wu Wushan, and his Sword Attendant, Qing Yuan, had swept through the Central Plains unchallenged. Their journey to Difei Mountain wasn’t because they had truly conquered every northern swordsman. Though Li Baiyi of Dongyue Sword Pool held high status and wielded formidable swordplay, his skills paled in comparison to his predecessors, Chai Qingshan and Song Nianqing. With the Sword Pool’s talent pool dwindling—despite the emergence of prodigies like Song Tinglu and Shan Eryi—they lacked a leader capable of bearing the sect’s weight. After Chai Qingshan fell in the heroic battle at Jubei City, the once-dominant Dongyue Sword Pool collapsed, its struggles known only to the young sect master, Li Baiyi.

In contrast, the Wu Family Sword Tomb flourished. Beyond the Sword Attendant Cui Hua, who ranked among the martial elite, Wu Liuding remained, having returned from the northwestern frontier to enter seclusion for the legendary “Closed-Life Sword Trial.” Once he emerged, the Wu Family would boast two grandmasters simultaneously. Moreover, the hundred swordsmen who had followed the Prince of Liang to battle beyond the northern passes had since regrouped in the Central Plains under the leadership of Zhu Huang and Nalan Huaiyu, founding the Shengqi Tower. With fewer than a hundred members, they had already secured a place among the top twenty sects, wielding significant influence. Their rise further bolstered the prestige of their ancestral home, the Wu Family Sword Tomb.

Wu Wushan suddenly turned his gaze to the lingering master-servant pair. The calm flow of his sword intent erupted like a spring striking rocks. “Still here? I’d hate to dirty my Li Zhu Sword.”

Legend held that the Wu Family Sword Tomb housed three hundred thousand blades, piled into mountains. Among them, the famed Li Zhu Sword—ranked seventh—bore the verse: “Of thirty thousand swords on the mountain, Li Zhu is the fairest.”

Before Li Zhu, only a handful of legendary blades stood higher: the old Sword God Li Chungang’s Mu Ma Niu, Deng Tai’a’s Tai’a (used to slay countless immortals), the Da Liang Long Que from the sword case of the Western Chu Empress Jiang Shi, the Su Wang carried by Sword Attendant Cui Hua, the still-unclaimed Xiong Yi, and the sixth-ranked Ju Ge.

Xu Fengnian sighed and said to Xu Baozao, “Let’s go,” before turning to leave.

The girl remained indignant. “You’re not weaker than him!”

Xu Fengnian chuckled. “These two are even more formidable than the so-called ‘Four Sages’ of Jiagu Terrace. Wouldn’t you be afraid?”

Xu Baozao huffed, her pretty face a mix of pity and frustration.

Instead of retracing their steps, Xu Fengnian led her north along a narrow mountain ridge. Xu Baozao couldn’t resist asking, “What’s next?”

Xu Fengnian grinned. “To meet the two you’ve long admired. Remember to act reserved—don’t pounce on them like a starving tiger.”

Xu Baozao was baffled. “What nonsense are you spouting?!”

Then it dawned on her. She eyed him skeptically. “You can really take me to meet the young sect leader and Master Bailian?”

Xu Fengnian revealed, “And Qi Xianxia too.”

Xu Baozao was torn between belief and doubt. “How do you know?”

Xu Fengnian smirked. “Guess?”

Xu Baozao rolled her eyes, then abruptly asked, “Do you think that Sword Attendant is good-looking?”

Xu Fengnian gave her a strange look. “Do you fancy that haughty Fufeng Ma woman? Love at first sight?”

Xu Baozao was utterly lost. “What are you talking about?!”

Xu Fengnian smiled. “Exactly. Didn’t you realize Qing Yuan is a man?”

Xu Baozao froze, stunned by the revelation. Catching up to Xu Fengnian, she pressed, “But if she were a woman, would you like her?”

Xu Fengnian laughed helplessly. “No matter how rare beauties are, the Rouge Rankings keep updating. If I had to fancy every pretty woman in the world, wouldn’t that be exhausting?”

Xu Baozao sneered. “Given your character, if that Sword Attendant were a woman, you’d never have left Guan Nan Terrace so soon. You’d have fought Wu Wushan for three hundred rounds, showing off every flashy move in your arsenal!”

Xu Fengnian rubbed his chin, as if seriously considering it.

Xu Baozao’s expression darkened with righteous fury. “How are you any different from those lechers on the mountaintop?!”

Xu Fengnian laughed heartily. “At least I’ve got better self-control.”

Xu Baozao cursed, “You lecherous, shameless, debauched, philandering—”

Xu Fengnian flicked her hair bun playfully. “The whole mountain reeks of your jealousy.”

Xu Baozao gaped, then scoffed. “Even if I went blind and fell for some martial world rogue, I’d never be foolish enough to like someone like you.”

Xu Fengnian nodded repeatedly. “Then I’ll burn more incense at the temples, thanking the gods for sparing me.”

Walking beside him, Xu Baozao flailed her arms, shrieking, “Xu! I’ll drag you down with me!”

Xu Fengnian lazily extended an arm to keep her at bay, taunting, “Even if you’re eager for a lovers’ suicide, shouldn’t you ask if I’m willing?”

The girl’s anger dissolved into sudden sorrow. She stopped, tears streaming. “Ever since leaving home… everyone’s been bullying me…”

Xu Fengnian halted too, speaking softly. “Believe me—those who deceive themselves cannot escape heaven’s judgment.”

Xu Baozao blinked through her tears, too distraught to process his words.

Xu Fengnian sighed and changed the subject. “Need a lift?”

Xu Baozao blinked.

Xu Fengnian grabbed her shoulder and soared into the wind.

Fortunately, Xu Baozao knew little of the martial world’s depths. While it wasn’t unheard of for grandmasters to traverse great distances—akin to the Daoist art of “shrinking the earth”—doing so silently, especially with dead weight, was a feat bordering on the celestial.

Some things simply weren’t written in books.

The scholar’s dream of the court’s heights, or their reluctant retreat to the martial world’s depths, was a far cry from the realms of Lü Zu, Gao Shulu, Li Chungang, Wang Xianzhi, and Xuan Yuan Qingfeng. Theirs was a different world entirely.