Xu Fengnian’s earlier sword practice resembled a penniless beggar who lived and lounged daily inside a golden palace, constantly complaining about poverty. After beginning his training, he moved books as if moving mountains, devouring knowledge voraciously until his vision broadened immensely. Although he had heard the elderly Bai Fa Lao Kui speak of sword flight severing heads as celestial powers, he treated such tales as mere legends—never daring to imagine witnessing them firsthand. Now, as the Prince looked upward at the two swarms of countless flying swords streaking across the sky, his scalp tingled, his blood surged, and his face turned dazed. He muttered in awe, “Mother of all heavens, this craftsmanship is beyond appreciation.”
The two surviving guest elders, who had narrowly escaped death, exchanged glances filled with terror. How could another swordsman-sage appear so soon after Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng, who had entered the Ru Sheng realm through heterodox means, was reduced to ashes? The old man clad in a tattered sheepskin coat, who enjoyed picking his ears, was indeed Li Chungan, the former unrivaled Sword Saint. However, since Deng Tai’a’s emergence, his rare displays of swordsmanship carried an aura part demon, part immortal—so who would still question whether the aged sword deity could rival the new sword deity? Yet here they were: hundreds of swords from Hui Mountain flew forth without issue, but the thousand peachwood swords from Longhu Mountain, scattered across distances of several miles from Gu Niu Gang, even those belonging to remote Daoist temples, had all been summoned to Da Xue Ping by merely the old master’s gentle call of “Sword, come forth!” Wasn’t it said that Li Chungan’s cultivation had greatly declined after his arm was severed and his sword broken? Neither capable of battling Wang Xianzhi nor confronting Xuan Yuan Da Pan, Huang Fang and Hong Biao had previously shown little confidence in him. Yet now, this retired swordsman of twenty years had reached the realm of prophetic utterance—how profound had his Daoist insight become?!
There was a secret legend in the jianghu: the ultimate sages of the Three Teachings each possessed extraordinary powers. Confucian sages bore the righteous aura of heaven and earth, thus their words carried heavenly authority. Earlier, when Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng knelt before heaven and earth, uttering the words “seeking death,” it summoned thunderbolts as thick as mountain ridges—a clear example. Daoist immortals could curse into reality, wielding spells to slay demons and uphold heavenly justice. And many Buddhist Bodhisattvas had made great vows, their words capable of shaking a thousand worlds. Li Chungan’s abilities were no different—truly worthy of the title Sword Immortal.
Still holding the umbrella for Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, Xu Fengnian muttered, “This display of swords descending from the heavens is mighty indeed. If only they could fly back to Longhu Mountain too—then those arrogant Daoist priests would know better than to strut around so proudly.”
Li Chungan, standing with his back to the prince and facing the Demon-Slaying Platform, seemed to hear Xu Fengnian’s ramblings. His soaring aura abruptly condensed, and the 1,300 flying swords instantly plummeted into the valley below. He turned with a disgruntled expression, saying, “Always showing off, huh? Remember, there’s always someone stronger, and skies beyond skies. Longhu Mountain has stood in opposition to Liang Chan Temple for a thousand years—it cannot be underestimated. There may even be a hidden Daoist Patriarch unwilling to ascend to heaven. Besides, I’ve long since passed the age of seeking conflict. Now I only wish to take Xiao Jiang as my disciple. Sigh, what a pity she wasn’t here—had she seen this, my chances of taking her as a student would have increased significantly.”
Xu Fengnian had wanted to tease the old swordsman for putting on such a grand display without achieving anything meaningful, but he lacked the courage. Hearing the term “Daoist Patriarch” for the first time, he asked curiously, “What is a Daoist Patriarch?”
Li Chungan headed toward the residence of Gu Niu Jiang, scratching his crotch. The rain had made everything sticky and uncomfortable. He explained, “A Daoist Patriarch is the present-day Grand Master of Daoism, equivalent in rank to a Buddhist leader. However, this position is too hot to sit upon comfortably. Those qualified to hold it within both the Buddhist and Daoist sects possess strong moral character and are unwilling to be the conspicuous ones. Meanwhile, those eager to seize the title are often fame-seekers too close to the imperial court, lacking popular support. Thus, aside from Qi Xuanzhen, who was truly worthy of the title, the position of Patriarch has remained vacant for a century. As for the Buddhist side, the white-robed monk Li Dangxin, who journeyed ten thousand miles westward in search of scriptures, once had the opportunity to become the leader of the Bodhisattvas. But word has it he simply married and had a daughter, so both the positions of Patriarch and Buddhist Leader remain unfilled. I’m telling you this now because, while I was commanding swords on Da Xue Ping, I sensed several mysterious auras on Longhu Mountain. Among them, someone from the Celestial Master’s Mansion tried to interfere, and another from Zhenjun Temple attempted to disrupt. That wasn’t particularly strange. What puzzled me was that one aura from Yunjin Mountain had grown so powerful it could be called heavenly fortune, yet it refused to intervene.”
Still holding the umbrella to shield Xuan Yuan Qing Feng from the wind and rain, Xu Fengnian tightened his grip on the handle and said darkly, “It must be that strange Daoist named Zhao Huangchao! He claims to be a member of the Liyang royal family who came to Longhu Mountain to cultivate. Back at Jianya on Mount Kuanglu, he performed the feat of a celestial soul leaving the body, riding a dragon to descend upon us! He appeared no older than thirty or forty, yet who knows how many centuries he has truly lived. This Daoist monk constantly speaks of upholding heavenly justice—what a grand and imposing figure he cuts!”
Xu Fengnian naturally omitted many details, for the battle between dragon and serpent was too obscure and mystical, and Xuan Yuan Qing Feng was present as an outsider.
Under the umbrella, Xuan Yuan Qing Feng’s skirt was soaked through. Slowly regaining her senses, she spoke coldly and emotionlessly, “Not long ago, I accompanied someone to Yunjin Mountain in search of a Dragon Serpent. There, I saw a middle-aged Daoist fishing in a deep pool. At the time, I assumed he was an ordinary cultivator pretending to be a reclusive sage. He debated the scriptures of the Three Teachings with Song Keli, the heir of the Song family, speaking with great arrogance. He referred to Zhang Shengren of the north simply as ‘Master Zhang,’ as though he had lived two thousand years earlier and could sit side by side with sages themselves.”
Li Chungan frowned, “Zhao Huangchao, the Daoist who mastered all Three Teachings? I’ve never heard of him. Even when I met Qi Xuanzhen twice, he never mentioned such a person. But judging from this Daoist’s cultivation, he would be more than qualified to become a Daoist Patriarch. Xu lad, how did you manage to provoke such a celestial being? Enough for him to leave his body and ride a dragon in such a grand display? With this Daoist’s power, he could have remained hidden in Longhu Mountain for a hundred years without revealing his name—clearly, he is not one who seeks fame. Zhao, a surname of emperors, huh. Ha! Now I understand. He must be concerned with the gathering and dispersing of heavenly fortune. If that’s the case, you should thank Cao Changqing for taking Jiang away early. Otherwise, if Zhao Huangchao had encountered her and pierced the mysteries, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. Back at Mount Kuanglu, even if I had opened the heavenly gate, it might have been useless.”
Xu Fengnian grinned and asked, “So what about now?”
The old man scolded, “Do you think I have nothing better to do than fight your battles? Do you think battling a celestial being is some trivial matter?”
The mention of celestial soul projection and riding a dragon sent a chill through Xuan Yuan Qing Feng’s heart. She had always been a proud and obsessive woman, born into the highest aristocracy of martial cultivators. As the sole daughter of the main branch, she possessed a photographic memory and was a walking martial arts library. Only someone like Song Keli, a scion of a prestigious scholarly family with genuine talent, could earn even a slight measure of her respect. Yet since this umbrella-holding young man arrived in Jianzhou, her entire world had been turned upside down. Her father, who had finally displayed celestial prowess, was killed. The three elders of the Reverence for the Written Word generation, who should have upheld Hui Mountain’s prestige for the next fifty years, were all dead. The once-unshakable Xuan Yuan Da Pan was slain, and her grandfather, Xuan Yuan Guoqi, was driven to leap from the mountain. The two guest elders at Da Xue Ping had turned traitor. Had her father still lived, they would have remained obedient. Now, with Gu Niu Gang left with barely half a master, how could she control those once-loyal retainers who had become wolves the moment the tree fell?
Seeing that this woman had no intention of rising, Xu Fengnian, growing impatient, reminded her, “Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, it’s not practical for me to keep holding this umbrella forever. Now that Gu Niu Gang is leaderless, this is your golden opportunity to realize your ambitions. Don’t waste it.”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng struggled to rise, but after sitting too long, her legs had gone numb. She nearly stumbled back into the water, but Xu Fengnian kindly reached out to help. She suddenly found strength from somewhere and shoved him away fiercely. She sneered, “Is it my ambition you’re helping me with, or are you trying to seize control of the Xuan Yuan clan of Hui Mountain?”
Xu Fengnian’s expression turned mocking as he shamelessly replied, “Let’s speak plainly—I like it. Since you’ve brought it up, let’s settle this properly.”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng met his gaze head-on, saying, “Then speak.”
The old sword saint ignored the two’s scheming and walked directly toward the gate of Gu Niu Jiang’s mansion. As he stepped onto the platform, he bent down and picked up the string of wind chimes. Xu Fengnian, speaking with measured eloquence, said, “You’re probably worried that I’ll seize the nest and make you my puppet, draining Hui Mountain’s centuries-old treasures, right?”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng replied without hesitation, “Exactly. Your family is powerful, your ambitions high, and I’m sure your appetite is no small thing.”
Xu Fengnian laughed and said, “Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, let me be perfectly clear. All I want from this Gu Niu Gang is to take copies of the secret manuals back to Bei Liang’s Ting Chao Pavilion. Everything else, I don’t want. Since we’re doing business openly, and I’ve accepted your favors, I’ll naturally help you secure your position as head of the Xuan Yuan clan. If anyone dares oppose you, let them taste the blades of Bei Liang. Besides, the old sword saint is now a terrestrial sword immortal. Whether it’s borrowing his might or riding his coattails, who would dare object? At worst, I won’t remain in Hui Mountain, but no one will dare confront you directly. That’s one deal. As for whether you’ll rule comfortably or struggle, that depends on your own skill. If you need my help later, you’ll have to offer more favors. In business, even brothers must keep clear accounts. How much more so for us, who are anything but close?”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng replied coldly, “You yourself said we’re enemies. What business can we do? At worst, I’ll just give up and hand this mess to my brothers. What’s stopping me from leaving the mountain?”
Xu Fengnian clicked his tongue and said, “Now you’re being unreasonable. Your father, Xuan Yuan Jing Cheng, gave his life to create this situation. With your stubborn nature, could you really let it go? You’re fooling no one. I have no patience for games. To be blunt, Hui Mountain is in turmoil now. If it weren’t for my admiration for your father’s actions, I wouldn’t be speaking to you so politely. I wouldn’t be standing here holding an umbrella for you. Besides your temper, what other skills do you have to show me? If you really anger me, do you think it would be hard for the Prince of Bei Liang to install a willing puppet? The title of Bei Liang’s prince isn’t small, you know. And conveniently, those few who could resist that pressure are all dead!”
Observing Xuan Yuan Qing Feng’s expression, Xu Fengnian continued persuasively, “Hui Mountain has never been able to rival the Daoist stronghold of Longhu Mountain. Without my support now, you’ll be suppressed for decades. Besides, I’m from Bei Liang, and I’m leaving soon. Once I’m gone, what trouble could possibly arise? If you still worry, then you must truly lack ability. Honestly, the reason I’m helping you despite our past is because of Wen Hua, the swordsman with the wooden blade. He once said that once he masters the sword, he’d strike your aristocratic behind with it. But if you leave your family, Wen Hua won’t bother a poor, ordinary girl. And I won’t get to see the show—how boring would that be?”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng stepped out from under the umbrella, ignoring Wen Hua’s teasing, and asked, “Pitiful?”
Xu Fengnian didn’t answer. Instead, he handed her the umbrella. When she made no move to take it, he leaned it onto her shoulder and looked up at the gray rain, saying, “If Wen Hua were here, he’d say the heavens are urinating again—how mischievous.”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng hesitated for a moment.
At that moment, Hong Biao stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and said solemnly, “Miss, from this day forward, I will follow your every command!”
Huang Fang smiled, saying, “I only wish to continue reading quietly in Hui Mountain, hoping one day to attain Jing Cheng’s realm. Whoever opposes you opposes me.”
Xuan Yuan Qing Feng was stunned, saying nothing.
A deep, resonant voice echoed from the Celestial Master’s Mansion on Longhu Mountain, “Since Sword Immortal Li has borrowed the swords, will he dare return them?”
Li Chungan, still examining the wind chime, couldn’t be bothered to respond.
Then, as Xu Fengnian exchanged meaningful glances with the old swordsman and silently mouthed two words, Xuan Yuan Qing Feng caught sight of it.
Li Chungan rolled his eyes, then shouted an extremely vulgar phrase toward Longhu Mountain, “Nonsense!”
That alone wouldn’t have moved Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, but the old swordsman’s next words were truly bold, “That was Xu Fengnian’s idea!”
In an instant, Xuan Yuan Qing Feng burst into laughter.
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