The world has only heard of the old generation’s sword deity, Li Chungan, who once uttered the words “Sword comes” at the snowy plaza of Huishan Mountain, humiliating Longhu Mountain. Such a magnificent phenomenon is merely hearsay, impossible to truly appreciate its splendor and grandeur. When thousands of swords float and soar across the sky, standing beneath them would feel like the weight of Mount Tai pressing down. Zhang Dongling of Youyan Village, who had thought himself doomed, exchanged glances with his wife. They were both awed by the unfamiliar guest who severed the river and intercepted the The White-robed Immortal, wielding hundreds of swords to suppress immortals, yet perplexed as to why he intervened.
Zhang Dongling was generous and charitable, seemingly a prodigal son who mismanaged his household, though his sword skills were mediocre, failing to secure Youyan Village’s status in the martial world. He resorted to such measures to cultivate friendships, akin to haphazardly casting a net in hopes of catching a few carp whose potential would later blossom into dragons. Over the years, he had grown disillusioned. Most martial artists had become as slippery as loaches, their passion and righteousness worn away along with their youthful edge. This time, entrusting his child to a crisis, only one or two acquaintances came to witness, while the rest offered excuses. Some even sent polite refusals, while more famous swordsmen who had once borrowed swords forgot their gratitude, ignoring promises to repay kindness with generosity, simply vanishing without a trace, continuing to play famous heroes in their localities.
Fortunately, Zhang Dongling took it in stride. Since he disregarded life and death, he accepted things as they were, not dwelling too much on those hypocritical individuals. His son, Zhang Chunling, however, was furious, sarcastically dubbing them a title of “gentleman swords” and “righteous men.”
After witnessing the spectacle of hundreds of flying swords, Zhang Chunling turned to Zhang Dongling, his voice trembling. “Father, is he a descendant of our ancestral friends?”
Zhang Dongling shook his head with self-mockery. “Unlikely. Two hundred years ago, when Youyan Village was flourishing, two ancestors successively served as the leader of martial heroes, perhaps having such remarkable friends. But now, it’s impossible. You’ve seen the incense-burning friendships I’ve bought with half the village’s hidden swords. Even your Uncle Cao Yu, who once shared life-and-death bonds with me, is stuck at the second martial rank after many years. But the figure on the lake is clearly beyond the Realm of the Indestructible Diamond. Otherwise, he couldn’t have stopped those cultivators’ charge.”
Zhang Chunling was a whirlwind of emotions. “Could it be the young Lu Zu from Longhu Mountain, Qi Xian Xia? But that doesn’t fit. He has neither a whisk nor Taoist robes. Now, there’s a rumor that the exiled princess of the fallen Xichu Kingdom can wield swords into the Qingming realm, but she is definitely a woman.”
Zhang Dongling laughed freely. “Who knows? Forget it, we can only leave it to fate and not trouble ourselves needlessly. In this fierce battle, with our skills, we can’t even lend a hand without possibly causing more harm. If Youyan Village survives this calamity, I would willingly kowtow a hundred times to this unknown benefactor.”
Zhang Chunling asked cautiously, “Father, I want to learn swordsmanship from him. Is that possible?”
Zhang Dongling replied helplessly, “If you want to learn, that young sword immortal must be willing to teach you.”
From the Xiaoxue Courtyard, five female servants emerged, two of whom had even pretended to carry swords before. Since Youyan Village was renowned for cultivation and sword forging, one attaining the Dao meant all others ascended with him. Even the servants practiced techniques considered highly advanced by outsiders. But when the words “Sword comes” were spoken, swords leapt from their sheaths. The two women outside the Xiaoxue Courtyard not only failed to notice how their ancient swords had left their sheaths but were also pulled forward, nearly falling to the ground. They were too shocked to speak, their minds blank, unable to comprehend why such a handsome young man, who had been so amiable as to warm wine with them by the hearth, would do this. Even the gatekeeper Zhang Mu and the chief steward Zhang Han were moved to tears, murmuring that the master and mistress must have been rewarded for their kindness, with divine intervention bringing such a celestial figure to Youyan Village.
A woman in purple, holding a qin in one hand and a jar of wine in the other, slowly approached the pavilion on Wolong Hill.
The qin was a refined treasure from Xiaoxue Courtyard, and the jar of yellow wine had cooled from boiling to warm. When she was seven or eight zhang away from the pavilion, she leapt forward, sat cross-legged, placed the qin on her knees, and tilted her head back to drink a mouthful of yellow wine.
She suddenly pressed her hand against the strings.
A resounding clang echoed like a phoenix’s cry from the ninth heaven, clear and unparalleled.
On that year’s mountaintop at Huishan, when the scholar attained sainthood, there was no snow at the grand snowy plaza, only a torrential downpour. After the turbulence had calmed, before Li Chungan re-entered the realm of earthly sword immortals, there was a man she despised intensely who had not yet turned white-haired, and who had held an umbrella for her. She did not know whether she hated him for coming to Huishan, setting off a chain reaction that ultimately led to her parents’ deaths, leaving her with a lifelong guilt. Or whether she resented him for having the coveted status of the Beiliang Crown Prince, allowing him to avoid the suffering she endured, like a frail water plant with no support. She did not know why she had conspired with a tiger, willing to strike a deal with such a carefree beggar upon their first meeting, nor when she had stopped hating him so intensely. Was it when she learned of his journey to the Beimang wilderness, where his fortune was exhausted like blank paper, while she gained a surge in cultivation from absorbing the imperial seal, finally allowing her to pity him? Or was it when he learned of the wooden-sword wanderer’s broken sword, and though deeply despondent, he did not speak of it to anyone, only sharing with her, while lying on a reclining chair, a rare earnest dream and a snowman? Or was it in the muddy snow of the Taian City, when he bent down under the table to gently tie a knot in her skirt hem as they walked to the Jiujuguan?
Sitting atop the pavilion, Xuan Yuanqingfeng finished a jar of wine and tossed it high into the lake.
Wang Xiaoping, the sword-obsessed, might have been the last “outsider” to join the commotion. He stepped out of the courtyard gate, looked up at the fierce snowfall, and recalled seeing his master carrying his young junior apprentice up the Wudang steps, and his eldest senior brother silently following behind, constantly brushing snow off the junior apprentice. Wang Xiaoping, who rarely smiled, smiled genuinely. The resentment he had held for his eldest senior brother’s loss and regain of the Huangting, and the junior brother’s sacrifice to reforge the three-hundred-year Dao path, all dissipated at this moment. Looking at the young man’s back on the lake, Wang Xiaoping patted some snow off his shoulder. Brothers, the burden you entrusted to me, Wang Xiaoping, even if I once disliked Xu Fengnian from the bottom of my heart, I will bear it!
Wang Xiaoping, who had gone up the mountain to practice swordsmanship and come down to seek the Dao, kept smiling as he strode boldly toward the lakeside, stretching out a hand forward.
He gathered the heavy snow into a long sword.
Crystal clear and translucent.
Who dares to come ashore? Wang Xiaoping, who had done the deeds of slaying demons and monsters, would also kill these so-called overseas immortals!
In fact, Xu Fengnian never expected Xuan Yuanqingfeng and Wang Xiaoping to intervene. It had nothing to do with trust or distrust; he was simply used to relying on no one for anything. Of course, the Zhu robe yin entity at the bottom of the boat was an exception. Their friendship, between a living person and a yin being, had been forged through numerous life-and-death battles. Together, they had slain the demon lord Luoyang at the Yellow River Dragon Wall, visited Xu Huainan at the Weak Water, killed the fifth Mohe on Tibet Mountain, executed a secret ambush at the Iron Gate Pass, confronted the Tianmo descent in Taian City, fought against Liu Haoshi, and finally left the palace together. Xu Fengnian trusted her, which was trusting himself. Thus, the yin entity, named or rather renamed Xu Ying, secretly replenished her cultivation at the bottom of the boat, allowing Xu Fengnian to borrow hundreds of swords to face sixteen The White-Robed Immortal. Only then could he feel at ease.
A dense swarm of flying swords, like a locust cloud, fell with the immense force of a celestial being patting a giant peak, ruthlessly crashing down. Xu Fengnian only now truly experienced the prowess of these overseas cultivators. In a one-on-one fight, he was confident he could kill each of them within ten moves, except for the leading old woman. However, seven male cultivators had formed a Big Dipper formation with their talisman swords, accumulating their Wei, which could not be underestimated. The more than 300 flying swords aimed at them merely destroyed the formation and severely injured one cultivator guarding the formation’s eye, lightly wounding three or four others, while the rest remained capable of continuing the battle. The Guanyin Sect had always been famous for having more women than men, so Xu Fengnian took out six hundred swords and hurled them at the eight female cultivators. The strange sword formation created by the talisman swords rotated like a spinning bead, forming a mirror-like surface that not only failed to injure anyone but also did not destroy a single talisman sword. One sword alone flew toward the old woman but was entirely reflected back before it could reach within a zhang of her.
This was the first time Xu Fengnian had controlled such a massive number of flying swords, and his technique was inevitably clumsy and sluggish. However, after three journeys, his mind had been polished to perfection, like the twelve sword embryos of Deng Ta’a’s flying swords. He would not lose momentum after the first surge, then weaken, then exhaust. After one wave of flying swords struck from above, he swept his hand in a half-circle, commanding the vast swarm of flying swords to rapidly circle around the boat, launching a second wave to attack from the side. The lake surface was torn apart by the sword qi, splashing countless fragments. The white Feather-like snowflakes, before falling into the lake, was further churned into chaos. Where Xu Fengnian stood gave the impression that within the universe, he wielded thousands of black swords to slay a million white snowflakes!
On the lake, everyone followed the rotation of the flying swords. The two groups of The White-Robed Immortal, men and women, stepped lightly on the lake’s surface, walking side by side, facing the ominous swords that seemed like ghosts from Fengdu disrupting the living world.
At this moment, the old woman standing motionless nearest to Xu Fengnian, the eight female cultivators with flowing robes were like flying immortals from Dunhuang, their talisman swords forming a wide mirror that changed from horizontal to vertical.
The eight talisman swords themselves were incredibly lively and nimble, achieving a seemingly still and profound realm under the cultivators’ qi traction.
The male cultivators were slightly more hurried. Their talisman swords, made of different materials, merely flew out one by one, doing their utmost to deflect the 300 incoming flying swords. The cultivator who had previously sat on the lake to “show off” actually had considerable cultivation. After the cultivator guarding the formation’s eye was severely injured, he immediately took the Tianzhu position. Before the battle, he still had some arrogance from his status, but now there was no sign of impatience, showing the demeanor of a master cultivator who had entered the hall.
Their mission against Youyan Village to obtain talisman swords was twofold: to take the swords and to gain experience. The cultivators certainly understood the essence of learning from others’ strengths. On their journey north, one senior sister had already improved her cultivation by observing the moon by a pond, gaining insight into the Fantasy style translation:
Mystical of the vast Zhixuan realm. According to the cultivators’ unique saying, it was like exploring the dragon palace and retrieving the dragon eye. If anyone could gain the natural wonders of heaven and earth and luckily attain the great Fantasy style translation:
Mystical of the Tianxiang realm, they would be considered as having achieved the Luminous Pearl and completed their mission.
The flying swords clashed against the talisman sword formation.
The sound was like mountains collapsing and stones cracking, far more Deafening than firecrackers at the Spring Festival.
The old woman remained unmoved, flicking away the incoming swords without looking at the white-haired young man who seemed to dominate the The Grand Momentum. She merely glanced gently at the two groups of favored disciples from the same Zong but different Pulse, showing no trace of unusual expression.
After two waves of flying swords, Xu Fengnian’s sword-control techniques improved at an astonishing speed.
Xu Fengnian raised both hands, initiating the third wave. Another 300 flying swords still charged recklessly toward the male cultivators, while nearly 700 other swords ignored the highly cultivated old woman altogether, sweeping toward the female cultivators. This time, the flight was particularly spectacular. The swords no longer gathered densely like a swarm of arrows but seemed chaotic and disorderly, making them unpredictable and impossible to block entirely with a single sword formation. Cultivators excelled in focused cultivation, embracing simplicity and ultimately swallowing the heavens and earth. In terms of physical strength, most were far inferior even to second-tier martial artists. Let alone 700 flying swords, even a few swords piercing their bodies would be enough to end the lives of these White-clad Fairy.
A female cultivator with the beauty of a Enchantress but an elegant demeanor calmly spoke, “Form the Treasure Bottle Formation!”
The eight swords formed a large bottle, like the Goddess of Mercy of the South Sea holding a treasure bottle. The talisman swords changed from movement to stillness, their qi interweaving into a net, weaving a great web.
The female cultivator who left the Treasure Bottle Formation smiled slightly, withdrew her talisman sword, and gently blew on it, whispering, “Point Sword. Point the mountains to fill the sea.”
After encountering the “bottleneck” that every cultivation master of the Goddess of Mercy of the South Sea Zong faced, she left the island, observed the moon, and gained insight into the Fantasy style translation:
Mystical of Zhixuan, achieving the “Point Sword” and finally breaking through the bottleneck.
The White-clad Fairy did not control the sword but extended her middle finger, folding her thumb over her ring finger, continuously pointing at the sword blade.
A single spark of light became a talisman, and countless sparks formed an immortal’s scroll.
The flying swords filled the sky, The sky is blotted out.. First, one fell into the lake, followed by two, four, eight.
Whether it was because human effort had finally reached its limit, she let nearly a hundred flying swords fall into the lake before flipping the sword, “Point Sword. Point the sea to destroy the mountains.”
A hundred swords in the lake leapt back onto the surface, now under her control, turning their blades toward Xu Fengnian’s flying swords.
This not only significantly reduced the pressure on the Treasure Bottle Formation but also allowed the male cultivators in the Big Dipper Formation to catch their breath and adjust their formation. Some even took out their own refined treasures, no longer limited to talisman swords in countering the flying swords.
Xu Fengnian, standing at the bow of the boat with wind and snow not daring to approach him, was neither angry nor frightened. He sneered, “You think the words ‘Sword comes’ mean only the sword in the sheath can kill? If I control ten thousand swords, even as light as cotton fluff, I can still crush you!”
Xu Fengnian’s sleeves fluttered wildly.
On the lake of the world, a million white snowflakes each condensed into a line, forming short swords and inch-long blades.
The universe instantly seemed to freeze, as if all things had ceased.
Only swords.
Innumerable swords.
Black and white intertwined.
At this moment, the young man with a saber at his waist but controlling swords, to the people watching on the shore in stunned disbelief, seemed to be saying:
As long as no celestial being appears,
I shall have no equal in this world.
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