In the East Sea, the city of Martial Emperor has always been known for its three peculiarities: the city is always filled with more outsiders than locals; the inner city wall is planted with countless weapons; and last but not least, there lives a man who has lived for over a hundred years and calls himself the Second Strongest in the world. For the martial world of Liyang, not having visited the Martial Emperor City is like a martial artist never having tasted the life of the jianghu. The first peculiarity is not so strange—every year, several masters of the Second Rank and even First Rank experts attempt to ascend the city walls to seek fame. For example, when Sword Nine Huang ascended the tower, it drew top experts like Cao Changqing to watch from the sidelines. Thus, the Martial Emperor City became a place that attracted countless heroes and adventurers.
The second peculiarity is even more understandable. If one fails to ascend the tower, one must leave one’s weapon embedded in the wall. For sixty years, Master Wang, the invincible guardian of the city, faced challenges daily—sometimes three or four in a single day. Over time, the wall became crowded with divine weapons, including a contribution from Song Nianqing, the former head of the Dongyue Sword Pond Sect.
But the third peculiarity remains a mystery: if Wang Xianzhi is truly the strongest in the world, why does he insist on calling himself the Second Strongest? No one knows the truth.
Within the Martial Emperor City, there are many weapon shops, pawn houses, and martial arenas. This is easy to explain—what else can one do in the Martial Emperor City without fighting for fame? Many of today’s renowned martial heroes were once young men who fought their way to glory, one duel at a time.
However, recently, the martial arenas have gone silent. This is because of a strange event that occurred a few days ago—an inexplicable sword strike that entered the city. Last year, the Northern Desolate established a Martial Ranking of Ten, and among the swordsmen, only the Peach Blossom Sword God Deng Tai’a was listed. Yet, it is said that he has already left the continent in search of immortals, and no news of him has been heard since.
Yet, a single sword remained suspended outside the Martial Emperor City for a long time. When the martial artists of the city finally lost patience, the sword finally moved. A child who had been throwing stones at the sword was the first to notice it. Excitedly, he ran home to tell his father, who ran a medicine shop. His father rolled his eyes and ignored him, thinking he had missed the excitement.
Even if it were not a terrestrial immortal’s sword, or even a flying sword from the Wujia Sword Tombs, the sword should have already reached the city tower. But to everyone’s surprise, although the sword did enter the city, it moved extremely slowly—so slowly that it took an entire hour to cross from the outer city to the top of the wall. At the very moment the sword stirred, a renowned swordsman leapt from the tower like a rainbow and landed on the city wall. It was Lou Huang, the fourth disciple of Wang Xianzhi, aged forty-six, wielding the sword “Bodhisattva Man.” A genius in swordsmanship, Lou Huang had chosen a path of forsaking the Dao for techniques—a crooked path, like walking on one leg. Yet even with one leg, he had already left the martial world far behind. Wang Xianzhi had once considered sending Lou Huang to guard the tower when Song Nianqing of the Sword Pond made his second ascent, but unfortunately, Song Nianqing died suddenly, leaving Lou Huang’s true swordsmanship to be imagined.
Lou Huang sat cross-legged, his sword resting on his knees, waiting silently for a full hour. When the flying sword finally arrived at the city wall at a snail’s pace, Lou Huang flicked his sword from its sheath and met the tip of the incoming sword with his own. Yet the incoming sword carried no real force. Still, Lou Huang’s “Bodhisattva Man” did not budge even an inch. Then, rising to his feet, Lou Huang drew his sword and began to retreat step by step, following the motion of the sword. After three hours, Lou Huang exhausted his energy, his tendons snapping, yet he still could not halt the advance of the nameless longsword even by the slightest tremor.
For the next three hours, it was the turn of Lin Ya, the third disciple of the city master. At thirty-two, Lin Ya was also a beauty listed among the “Jade Lip Rankings.” Her tall frame rivaled that of any northern man, yet she carried a unique charm that left people in awe. She was the foremost master of martial arts in the world, yet no matter how fiercely she struck the longsword, she could not stop its steady advance. With her final punch, Lin Ya soared into the sky and delivered a crushing blow. The area beneath the sword, spanning dozens of feet, collapsed into ruins. Unable to accept this result, the fiery-tempered Lin Ya ran like thunder to the martial arena, dragged back a large cauldron, and smashed it down on the sword that seemed to mock her. Still, it was in vain. Lin Ya collapsed to the ground, her eyes vacant.
Next came Gong Banshui, the master of internal energy cultivation. As the eldest among Wang Xianzhi’s four disciples, Gong Banshui was bald, with nine meditation scars on his head. Though he wore Daoist robes instead of Buddhist robes, it was said that he possessed the unshakable body of a Buddhist King Kong (Vajra), mastered six Daoist finger techniques of the Xuanzhi school, and was an expert in energy manipulation. Gong Banshui’s performance was indeed dazzling. Unlike his junior brothers and sisters, he did not approach the sword directly. Instead, from the inner city tower, he flicked his sleeves one by one, sending weapons from the wall to strike the sword. For three full hours, the Martial Emperor City echoed with the sounds of bells, drums, and thunder. Some citizens with weak internal energy suffered greatly and fled the city for safety. Gong Banshui flicked his sleeve 107 times, sending 107 weapons flying. Most of them shattered upon impact. Finally, when the sword was within twenty zhang of the tower, the entire city felt that even the city master himself would be unable to stop it unless he gave his all.
Then, the rarely seen eldest disciple of Wang Xianzhi, Yu Xinlang, stood before the sword. No one witnessed the actual scene atop the city wall, and only the outcome was known. Rumors spread that Yu Xinlang had drawn his blade and blocked the “unreasonable” sword that sought slowness rather than speed. In truth, Yu Xinlang did not even bring a blade. He simply descended alone before the flying sword, circling it slowly again and again. When the sword was only six zhang from the tower, he stood before it, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his two fingers against the blade’s tip.
At this moment, on the top floor of the tower, a scene no one could imagine unfolded. Wang Xianzhi, a tall figure in plain clothes, stood at the window overlooking the city. Inside the tower sat the sword-eating old master. More absurdly, the atmosphere inside was not tense at all—on the contrary, the sword-eating patriarch sat cross-legged, sipping wine, while a green-robed little girl tugged at his two long white eyebrows, tying them into knots with utmost seriousness. The old master, whose true name was long forgotten by the martial world—Sui Xiegǔ—did not get angry. Instead, he smiled indulgently at the little girl’s mischief, his eyes filled with an odd expression.
When Yu Xinlang’s feet left the ground and his body floated, his two fingers finally pressing the sword’s tip downward by half an inch, Wang Xianzhi nodded. He turned around and sat opposite Sui Xiegǔ. The green-robed girl raised her hand, proudly showing off the knot she had tied in the old man’s eyebrows, with a bright smile. Wang Xianzhi, who never smiled in front of his four disciples, gave a faint smile, then gestured to the little girl. She shook her head, clearly finding the old man’s eyebrows much more fun to play with, and continued squatting to carefully tie more knots. Who in the world could possibly treat Wang Xianzhi so casually?
The sword-eating patriarch laughed, “You’ve done all you could for Li Chungan. But with his stubbornness, he wouldn’t accept the idea of reincarnation in Buddhism or Daoism. He refused to become a wandering immortal or seek another life. Li Chungan is Li Chungan—his debts and grudges are settled in one life, and his injustices are resolved with a single sword. That’s the sword god even you, Wang Xianzhi, are willing to admire. Li Chungan has died in every life, and the Green Robe of Fengdu has died with him. As for Deng Tai’a, even if he returns from seeking immortals, his swordsmanship and sword Dao may rival Li Chungan’s, but to you and me, he still doesn’t quite measure up.”
Wang Xianzhi said calmly, “Yu Xinlang could only block half your sword by borrowing the residual force of Lou Huang, Lin Ya, and Gong Banshui. Why did the sword stop?”
Sui Xiegǔ did not answer. Instead, he smiled at the green-robed girl and said, “Little girl, go fetch a good sword from the wall for me to go with my wine.”
The girl, with a lively expression, nodded and ran out. She obediently squatted down and struggled to pull out a nearby sword, then carried it back into the tower with both hands. Sui Xiegǔ laughed heartily, broke off an inch of the sword tip with his fingers, and popped it into his mouth. Seeing the little girl watching him with longing, Sui Xiegǔ chuckled, “Don’t learn to eat swords like me, or you’ll scare all the men away when you grow up.”
Seeing the girl’s attention return to his eyebrows, Sui Xiegǔ turned to Wang Xianzhi and said, “Since you let your disciples block the sword, it’s obvious you don’t want to fight me. That’s fine—I don’t have a sure victory yet. I think Deng Tai’a will be back soon. Compared to fighting you, I’m more curious whether Li Chungan’s loan of a sword across ten thousand miles was worth it. If I defeat Deng Tai’a at his peak, I’ll have a better chance against you. But according to your habit of accepting all challengers, why did you let your disciples take the stage? You don’t seem like an old man on his deathbed, so why did you do something like entrusting your disciples?”
Wang Xianzhi replied calmly, “I am waiting for my final battle. After that, I will ascend. When I leave, the Martial Emperor City will no longer exist. At first, Han Shengxuan wanted to imitate Gao Shulu and slaughter all the First Rank martial artists, so many cultivators fled here. Later, the Martial Rankings established a rule not to include anyone from the Martial Emperor City. Among my four disciples, I plan to send Gong Banshui and Lou Huang to the capital, Lin Ya to the Southern Frontier, and Yu Xinlang—I haven’t decided yet. But the green-robed girl will most likely be left in his care.”
Sui Xiegǔ widened his eyes, “From your tone, your final opponent isn’t me, nor Deng Tai’a, nor even Cao Changqing. Could it be Tuoba Pusa?”
Wang Xianzhi snorted, “That Northern barbarian? He’s only fit to eat my dust. As long as I live, he’ll never be the strongest. His current martial cultivation is no more than what I had thirty years ago. Even if he takes that weapon, he’ll still only match me from twenty years ago. What’s there to fight?”
Sui Xiegǔ frowned, “Back then, Qi Xuanzhen didn’t want to fight you. Later, Hong Xixiang, who had the potential to rival you, chose to dissolve himself. But in my opinion, these two—well, they were really one person—aren’t as strong as they were five hundred years ago. Probably, after Lü Dongxuan, you, Wang Xianzhi, have been invincible for five hundred years. Take Liu Songtao, for example—the leader of Zhulu Mountain, whom I helped defend the pass. He was slightly inferior to Li Chungan. Even two hundred years ago, the sword immortal of the Wujia Sword Tombs, Wu Douping, was only famous because there were no heroes at the time. He dominated the martial world for forty years—no more than another Liu Songtao. Four hundred years ago, the great demon Gao Shulu caused a catastrophe, killing nearly all the top martial artists. He was indeed formidable, but he was only slightly stronger than Tuoba Pusa today. The martial world today is completely different. You, Tuoba Pusa, Li Chungan, Deng Tai’a, and that The woman in white (White-clad woman)—any one of you, except for Gao Shulu’s era, could dominate any martial world for a hundred years. Of course, I’m also in that category.”
Wang Xianzhi sneered, “It’s all Huang Longshi’s fault.”
Suddenly, the green-robed girl ran to Wang Xianzhi and asked curiously, “Grandpa, why don’t you call yourself ‘this old man’ anymore?”
Wang Xianzhi patted her head, pointed at Sui Xiegǔ, and smiled, “This fellow is more than twenty years older than me, but he’s just old—he doesn’t have much skill.”
Sui Xiegǔ, his eyebrows bristling, snapped off a piece of sword and threw it into his mouth, shouting, “Wang Xianzhi, why don’t we fight right now?!”
Wang Xianzhi merely glanced at him sideways and ignored him. The two white eyebrows, now tied into countless knots, snapped straight in the air, fluttering wildly. The little girl panicked and quickly jumped up to grab the long eyebrows that towered over her, hugging them tightly and continuing to tie knots with great patience.
Sui Xiegǔ sighed helplessly and asked, “Do you think Chen Zhibao, who achieved the Confucian Sage realm through the passing of the monk Longshu, is already strong enough to defeat the elusive Gu Jiantang?”
Wang Xianzhi shook his head.
Sui Xiegǔ frowned, “This young man has rare talent. Why did he go to Taian City to become Minister of War instead of becoming a king and ruling from Xishu, where he could cultivate in peace and leisure?”
Wang Xianzhi smiled, “Chen Zhibao is waiting for Cao Changqing, the other Confucian Sage, to die in the restoration of Xichu. Only then can he ‘borrow the momentum’ to defeat Gu Jiantang and finally be worthy of challenging me.”
Sui Xiegǔ was silent for a moment, then sighed deeply, “The younger generation is indeed admirable.”
Wang Xianzhi remained silent.
Sui Xiegǔ smiled and asked, “Putting aside the ten already on the Martial Rankings, who do you think will rise in the next fifty years?”
Wang Xianzhi closed his eyes and said slowly, “As for swords, Lu Baijie, whose sword intent was once promising, was ruined when he became a vice minister of war. Wang Xiaoping, who once strayed from the path, now follows Liu Songtao and is refining his sword Dao through both martial arts and Buddhism. His future is boundless. Qi Xianxia, once only half the immortal aura of Longhu Mountain, has changed greatly after visiting Wudang. He now has the potential to carry the sword Dao. Wu Liuding is too obsessed with winning and will never go as far as his female sword attendant, Cu Hua. As for blades, Yuan Zuozong will surely reach the Heavenly Elephant realm sooner or later. As for Jiang Fuding, it’s hard to say. His nature is too sinister. But since his martial path is most similar to mine, if he’s lucky, he might stay in the Finger Mystery realm his whole life. If he’s lucky, after I ascend, he might even reach the realm of terrestrial immortality. The head of the Wujia Sword Tombs, Xu Yanbing of Beiliang, and the two from Landuo Mountain and Guanyin Sect all have the potential to become terrestrial immortals, but they are unlikely to become the strongest. The martial world is too unpredictable for me to make definite predictions about their final achievements. But among them, only a few will reach the level of the Martial Rankings, differing only in position. However, there are two whose potential is especially unpredictable: Nan Gong Pusha, the blade master of Tingchao Pavilion, and Jiang Si, the fallen princess of Xichu who has already ‘understood the sword.’ But the latter will likely be a fleeting moment.”
Sui Xiegǔ remembered one name in particular, “Jiang Fuding?”
Wang Xianzhi said calmly, “Do you know what my wish in martial cultivation is?”
Sui Xiegǔ frowned slightly, but the little girl, tugged by his long white eyebrows, stumbled. The sword-eating patriarch turned to her with an apologetic smile. The girl smiled back and waved her hand, indicating it was okay.
Wang Xianzhi leaned forward, his fists resting on his knees, “Do you know that you, Li Chungan, Tuoba Pusa, Deng Tai’a, Cao Changqing—your cultivation realms are not that far from mine? Yet, if we were to fight to the death, you would surely lose?”
Sui Xiegǔ laughed bitterly, “Isn’t it because you old bastard has thick skin and a tough body!”
The green-robed girl covered her mouth and giggled.
Wang Xianzhi looked straight at Sui Xiegǔ and asked, “Do you believe that even if the five of you joined forces and fought me, I could still kill you all?”
Sui Xiegǔ narrowed his eyes.
He clearly didn’t believe it.
But he had to believe it!
Wang Xianzhi stood up. The top floor of the tower had no walls or railings on the east and west sides, so he could look out over the East Sea. He said softly, “After I, through martial cultivation rather than the Dao of Heaven, became a terrestrial immortal, I always called myself the Second Strongest. It wasn’t because there was anyone in the world who could defeat me in life and death. I did it out of nostalgia for the jianghu where Li Chungan reigned supreme. Back then, Wang Xianzhi looked up to that lone swordsman in green robes and bowed in admiration. It was he who taught me what a jianghu of one person truly meant. It was Li Chungan who led me down this path I’ve walked for sixty years. If the jianghu thinks my ‘second’ is a mockery of the world, I won’t deny it. Whoever has the strength, come and claim the title of the true strongest.”
Sui Xiegǔ waited silently. Wang Xianzhi smiled, “But more importantly, my enemy is the entire world.”
Wang Xianzhi clenched his fists. The tides of the East Sea rose and fell. “Even if the nine behind the Martial Rankings, plus all the First Rank experts in the world, gathered in the Martial Emperor City, I, Wang Xianzhi, would still not fear defeat—I would only win!”
Sui Xiegǔ’s eyebrows, pulled from the little girl’s hands, floated in the air. The green-robed girl jumped up and down, trying to grab the two long white eyebrows.
Wang Xianzhi relaxed his fists and stood with his hands behind his back. The East Sea returned to calm. “As for Jiang Fuding, if he doesn’t die in Beiliang, he will have the courage to stand against the entire jianghu. Only then can he truly walk the path of a lone warrior. Then, the jianghu may be his and Nan Gong Pusha’s alone, or perhaps with Hong Jingyan, forming a triad. You, Sui Xiegǔ, are bound by swords. Cao Changqing is bound by that woman he once played chess with. You both have attachments, which is why you walk lightly. Yet, those very attachments are the foundation of your strength. The tragedy is that even if you could let go and rise again, you would still refuse to abandon them.”
Sui Xiegǔ sneered, “Do you think everyone is like you, a martial fanatic with no attachments? Gao Shulu only reached the legendary realm of a celestial being by deliberately driving himself mad. Wang Xianzhi, you really are a monster. I don’t understand why no celestial being has come down to subdue you. Why not send a few thousand lightning bolts to kill you?”
Wang Xianzhi smiled faintly.
Celestial beings? Even ordinary terrestrial immortals could be slain by him. He didn’t even bother to look at them. Even if a true celestial descended, they would still have to follow Wang Xianzhi’s rules.
Sui Xiegǔ ran his fingers along his eyebrows and asked, “Then who exactly are you waiting to fight in your final battle on earth?”
Wang Xianzhi countered, “Whose sword did you borrow?”
Sui Xiegǔ shouted, “Go to hell! Do you think I don’t know how strong that brat Xu is? He killed Han Shengxuan only because of my thousand-mile sword control. If he had focused on the jianghu, he might have reached my level. But he has to be the King of Beiliang. How can he, like you, Wang Xianzhi, devote himself entirely to martial cultivation? Give him ten years, no—give him a hundred—he still wouldn’t be worthy of being your final opponent!”
Wang Xianzhi said calmly, “I was driven back a thousand zhang by his two punches.”
Sui Xiegǔ’s eyes widened.
The green-robed girl’s eyes also widened. The old and the young, in perfect unison.
Wang Xianzhi said slowly, “If he dares to cross into the realm of terrestrial immortality, I will kill him immediately.”
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