Xu Fengnian carelessly discarded the once-legendary sword, now reduced to a useless scrap that had once boasted of slicing jade like mud. He asked again, “Who gave you the right to utter the words ‘sword, come forth’?”
Zhongli, the demon master who had long reigned with tyranny over Mount Liuyi, tightly gripped the young swordsman’s hand with both of his own. His legs, now powerless, twitched like those of a dying animal. With a hard pinch, he realized to his horror that his entire internal energy had scattered like a The dam burst, and all his attempts to gather strength proved fruitless. This was truly terrifying. In normal circumstances, anyone who dared to act so brazenly would have been chopped into mincemeat and fed to the dogs. But now, this youth before him, even more demonic than himself, was proving too formidable. Zhongli’s face shifted from red to a sickly purple as he gasped with difficulty, “I heard that the sword immortal Li Chungan of the Liyang Dynasty once spoke the words ‘sword, come forth.’ He was a model for all swordsmen of our generation, so I shamelessly imitated and borrowed the phrase. If the young master takes any offense, I, no, I, Zhongli Handan, shall never utter those words again… not even once for the rest of my life…”
Xu Fengnian let out a soft “Oh,” then raised his hand in a seemingly casual motion, slapping the side of the scholar’s head. Instantly, the head separated from the body and rolled along the ground like a melon. As the headless corpse was discarded, Xu Fengnian softly laughed, “The words ‘sword’ and ‘come forth’ are so ordinary. I suspect it will be difficult for you to keep your promise not to speak them again. To prevent you from breaking your word, I’ll have to lend you a hand.”
The young servant who had just handed Zhongli his sword watched his master’s sudden death with horror. He gave no thought to why his master had perished so easily in a single strike, assuming it was due to trickery and carelessness. Snatching another servant’s famous sword, he unsheathed it with a metallic ring and, eyes bloodshot, shouted, “You vile bastard from the backwoods! Do you even know that Master Zhongli is the next master of the Shen Clan Hermitage? I shall have you torn apart by five horses and left without a grave!”
The furious strike from the enraged swordboy was no small feat in the eyes of seasoned martial artists like Han Fang and Zhang Xiu Cheng. Xu Fengnian hooked his left hand, and the head that had rolled a trail of blood flew back through the air. The swordboy’s strike cleaved it in two, but the blood splattered from the severed head was repelled by a mirage-like barrier. The swordboy himself, however, was splattered with blood. His sword, having sliced through his master’s head like cutting vegetables, now hovered just inches above the scholar’s back, unable to descend further no matter how much force he applied. Slowly raising his arm, Xu Fengnian flicked his finger. The sword vibrated, flew from the boy’s grasp, and slapped across his pale cheek, leaving a red mark as wide as the blade itself. The ancient sword, with a rare cat’s eye gemstone embedded in its hilt, flew from his hand and strangely returned to Xu Fengnian’s grasp, cracking inch by inch. Smiling at the stunned boy, Xu Fengnian said, “I’ve never even heard of the Shen Clan Hermitage. How would I know who this brain-splattered fool was? Your master has just begun his journey to the underworld. Since you are so loyal, why not join him? Otherwise, with your skill in cleaving mountains like swordsmen of old, I’m sure your return to the hermitage will end in nothing but execution.”
The swordboy had just realized the vast difference between them when he managed to utter a single “No,” only to be kicked by Xu Fengnian so hard his body arched like a bow and flew backward for five or six zhang, coughing blood before dying.
Only then did Xu Fengnian ask, “What were you about to say?”
The entire plaza, filled with people of opposing factions, was shaken to their cores.
Hong Qian quietly tried to move away, hoping to escape this place of calamity. Ever since he had cut down the banner, he had severed all ties with the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness, leaving no room for compromise. Now that the powerful patron he had groveled to for so long had died before his eyes, not only would the bloodthirsty swordsman holding the sword surely seek revenge, but even his master Zhang Xiu Cheng and the leader Han Fang would be more than enough to deal with him. Just as he reached the edge of the plaza, Xu Fengnian turned and fixed his gaze on this ambitious bandit who had climbed his way up, smiling, “Master Hong, don’t be in such a hurry to leave. Cutting down that yellow banner was just a matter between you and the band. It has nothing to do with me. But I heard from Qing Zhuniang that years ago, when her husband’s estate was destroyed, it was you who first disguised yourself and lived there for months as a guest scholar before conspiring with outsiders. Later, you speared that scholar to death, and many of the pretty maids who had once laughed and joked with you were slaughtered after you dragged them into your bed. Now that Zhongli Handan is dead, come, come, if you manage to defeat me, Qing Zhuniang shall become your plaything.”
Hong Qian, his face filled with bitterness and regret, replied, “Master Xu, you jest. How could Hong dare to show you disrespect?”
The Taoist Zhang Xiu Cheng suddenly shouted, “I beg you, Master Xu, leave this man to me! Whether you kill or maim me afterward, I shall not resist. Do with me as you please!”
Xu Fengnian countered, “Weren’t you the one who once tried to cut off my head at the tavern at the foot of the mountain?”
Zhang Xiu Cheng calmly replied, “If Master Xu will spare the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness, I shall kill Hong Qian and then offer my own life in atonement!”
Xu Fengnian smiled, gestured for Zhang Xiu Cheng to proceed, and allowed him to deal with the matter.
Looking at the yellow banner with red characters, now lying limp and crumpled, Xu Fengnian murmured to himself, “When officials oppress the people, rebellion becomes inevitable. That is not wrong. But later, when you feast on wine and meat, and go from being unarmed to wielding weapons, in the end, the most lives you take are those of the very people like yourselves. Who, then, is truly avenging whom?”
He glanced at the trembling servants of the hermitage, who had long relied on their master’s might to intimidate others. Now that even the mountain king was dead, what power did they have left? Turning to Han Fang, Xu Fengnian said, “Master Han, lend me seven or eight horses. Let’s ride together to the Shen Clan Hermitage and see this paradise of mortals.”
Han Fang bowed deeply and shouted, “It would be my honor!”
Several bandits from the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness hastily led out over a dozen fine horses from the stables, fearing that the young man, more demonic than any demon, would be displeased with the number and kill them all on the spot. Hong Qian had already been engaged by Zhang Xiu Cheng, and several strong men formed a circle around him. Facing the renowned disciple of the Daoist Sect, Zhang Xiu Cheng, Hong Qian had little chance of victory. Much of his martial skill had been taught by Zhang himself, leaving his weaknesses exposed and his every move countered. As Hong Qian struggled, Fang Dayi seized the opportunity, swinging his axe and carving a deep wound into Hong Qian’s back. Hong Qian no longer had the strength to curse the brute for breaking the rules. At that moment, Xu Fengnian, who had just taken the reins of a horse and was preparing to mount, dashed past, snatching the banner that read “Justice Prevails,” and raced toward Fang Dayi. With one hand, he shattered Fang’s back, and before the bear-like man could collapse, his head was wrapped in the banner like a dumpling, slowly suffocating him to death.
A gentle breeze swept across the plaza, yet it sent chills down the spines of all present.
As Zhang Xiu Cheng ran his sword through Hong Qian’s chest, the latter laughed, “Dying well! Dying gloriously! In my next life, I’ll still be a man, and I pray the heavens make you, Han Fang and Zhang Xiu Cheng, all women…”
Before he could finish his dying words, Zhang Xiu Cheng twisted the sword, tearing his insides.
Xu Fengnian glanced at the Daoist with apricot-shaped eyes and said calmly, “Out of respect for Qing Zhuniang’s words that you still retain some traces of an immortal’s bearing, I shall spare your life. As for what you must do next, we shall decide upon my return with Master Han.”
Unexpectedly, the Daoist was resolute. He flicked the blood from his sword, reversed his grip on the peach-wood sword, and bowed, saying directly, “There’s no need for that. Zhang Xiu Cheng is willing to accompany Master Xu to the hermitage.”
Xu Fengnian coldly ordered the few attendants of the hermitage, “Bring along the two halves of Zhongli Handan’s head.”
A group of riders galloped toward Mount Changle, an hour’s ride away. Outside the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness, there was a luxurious carriage, but since Xu Fengnian refused to ride in it, no one dared to do so either.
Any sect or school that could claim dominion over a mountain was typically of considerable renown. Far away were the Longhu Mountains and the Xuanyuan Clan of Huishan, locked in opposition across the river. Closer were places like the Qingyang Palace, all boasting countless followers. Even minor figures were elevated by association, appearing as divine as immortals. To ordinary people, they seemed shrouded in clouds and mist, naturally inspiring awe. The Shen Clan Hermitage was the undisputed mountain king of Mount Liuyi. The demon before them, who liked to call himself a immortal, was a favorite among the hermitage’s members, ranking among the top five in strength. Rumors had it he was nearly at the second-tier realm. According to the scattered details Xu Fengnian had learned from Qing Zhuniang, the hermitage likely had two second-tier experts, or minor grandmasters, which was quite impressive for a single province. The hermitage’s master was surnamed Shen, while Zhongli was an illegitimate son of the hermitage’s master, though his martial talent was formidable. He was expected to reach the second-tier realm before the age of forty. Whether he was a bastard or not was irrelevant; power made the king, a timeless truth applicable in both court and countryside. The Shen Clan Hermitage was labeled a demonic sect because of its expertise in sexual cultivation and esoteric dual cultivation techniques. In short, anything related to carnal pleasure was their specialty. The Shen disciples who descended the mountain either killed families to abduct young girls as vessels or escorted mature vessels to high-ranking officials. They even had dealings with some noble families of the Northern Barbarians, which was the source of their wealth. Although dual cultivation techniques were often condemned as heretical, some orthodox techniques derived from Buddhist and Daoist scriptures were not inherently corrupt. This might be the reason why the Shen clan produced generations of martial elites.
Han Fang remained silent, riding beside the scholar through the night.
Yet his thoughts churned. This scholar carried a sword but had not drawn it, yet with a single slap had shattered Zhongli’s head. Could he already be at the second-tier realm?! How old was this so-called Xu Lang? How could he have reached such an unfathomable level of strength so quickly? This made Han Fang feel that comparing oneself to others was enough to kill a man. Still, he was not optimistic about Xu Lang’s journey to the Shen Clan Hermitage. Being dragged along was unavoidable, but he could not end up like that swordboy who died the moment he uttered a single “no.” But once they reached the hermitage, how to weigh the pros and cons would be a headache. Leaving aside other matters, the hermitage had two old Shen clan guardians who had long remained at the second-tier realm. Could this Xu Young Master, whose sword had not even been drawn, be reckless with his life or was he truly confident?
Zhang Xiu Cheng, following behind, felt that this scholar carried an unusual amount of malevolence.
It was like ink ground from a superior ancient inkstone—exceptionally thick.
Xu Fengnian held a sword taken from the swordboy, modeled after the bronze swords of the Eastern Yue Sword Pool, thick-hilted and black-lacquered, exuding an ancient majesty. Loosening the reins, he held the sword in one hand and flicked it lightly with the other, producing a clear and resonant sound. Suddenly, he asked, “As for the likes of Fang Dayi, who in the bustling market would recklessly swing an axe without discerning right from wrong, is there nothing but exhilaration, no trace of reluctance?”
Han Fang gave a self-mocking smile, about to speak. Zhang Xiu Cheng spoke first, “Fang Dayi, Hong Qian, and other outlaws were not kind-hearted people even before they came to the mountain. They were ruthless killers, acting on impulse without regard for right or wrong. To their brothers, they were naturally worthy of the title ‘loyal to the skies.’ It’s like those so-called filial sons in the Twenty-Four Paragons of Filial Piety who kill their children to feed their mothers or lie on ice to catch fish—they’re all madmen, defying human ethics. In the past, the band also had some clean-cut sons of officials who I tricked into losing their families, being pursued by the imperial army, and forced to become bandits. They were furious about it, but the leader had his own difficulties. A band of outlaws from all walks of life, a mix of fish and dragons, the loyalty of the brothers depended on men like Fang Dayi. The more educated ones, with their flexible minds, rarely wanted to hang themselves on a single tree. Later, when the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness was ostracized by other bands on Mount Liuyi, scattering like birds and beasts, those educated brothers who left joined other factions and turned against the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness with the greatest zeal. The Third Leader, Song Kui, was lured into the city by a former brother and ended up in prison. Of course, not everyone was like that. Many brothers who came to the mountain without forming factions or creating factions of their own, even after leaving the mountain in disappointment, still held loyalty to the Band of Loyalty and Righteousness, parting ways amicably.”
Xu Fengnian nodded and said, “I’ve learned much from Qing Zhuniang about managing a band, and I understand your difficulties to some extent.”
Zhang Xiu Cheng couldn’t help but curse inwardly, begging this great demon not to learn any more. With such formidable martial arts already, did he also plan to establish a band for fun?
A sudden warmth surged in Zhang Xiu Cheng’s heart. Could it be that Mount Liuyi was about to change hands?
Han Fang also had a moment of understanding. Their eyes met briefly, and everything was understood without words.
A swordboy who had retrieved the expensive sword with the embedded cat’s eye from the plaza rode up, urgently reporting, “Master, someone is trying to escape!”
Xu Fengnian had already discerned the truth through the sound of the horse’s hooves, yet he still turned his head unnecessarily.
The swordboy, who had learned a bit of his master’s ruthless nature, used the sword as a dagger and stabbed toward Xu Fengnian’s neck, catching even Han Fang and Zhang Xiu Cheng off guard with his audacity and fierce temperament.
Xu Fengnian casually threw the bronze sword, which pierced the back of the escaping servant and sent him tumbling from his horse.
With two fingers, he easily caught the tip of the sword. The two horses still rode side by side. Xu Fengnian did not kill immediately but instead took the valuable sword and smiled, saying, “Go, pull the sword from the corpse. As for whether you run or not, it’s up to you.”
The swordboy stood there, stunned, then broke down in sobs.
Xu Fengnian flipped the sword around and kicked him. The boy, just beginning to regain his senses and prepare to draw the sword, flew like a kite and crashed into the mountainside, dying instantly.
Zhang Xiu Cheng was speechless with fear.
What kind of demon was this, whose temperament was even more unpredictable than his methods?
Sitting steadily on his horse, Xu Fengnian tossed the sword to Han Fang, placed both hands in his sleeves, and narrowed his phoenix eyes toward the distant road ahead.
He recalled a time in the past when he had been a poor wretch, and every time he crossed mountains, a little girl who dreamed of becoming a female knight would joyfully sing, “The king sent me to patrol the mountains, I patrol the southern mountains and then the northern ones, and every time she would end with a trill of ‘yo yo yo.’”
Xu Fengnian said calmly, “If that little knight knew that climbing the mountain was just about killing people, would she still recognize me as a good friend?”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage