At Zhahe Pavilion, it was said that immortal cranes often dwelled there. However, when Xufengnian and his company dismounted to rest, they didn’t spot even a single mountain pheasant. Instead, they found six or seven Daoist nuns surrounding a young nobleman exuding lofty bearing. Dressed in Taoist robes, he carried a peachwood sword of the Shenxiao sect, its wooden frame releasing a faint, pleasant fragrance. Upon his head was a controversial Xianyou headdress, decorated with intricate swirling cloud patterns, especially at the back where two long, flowing ribbons hung down like sword tips. As he moved, the ribbons swayed elegantly—yet elder Daoist sages considered such attire undignified for youths, as not every young practitioner had the audacity to wear it. The female Daoists, gentle and beautiful like chirping nightingales, enhanced the young Taoist’s unrestrained aura. This dashing disciple of Qingyang Temple leisurely lay on a long bench within the pavilion while several nuns beside him peeled green chestnuts and fed him piece by piece. To old rogue Mengtou and his ilk, such a scene would have seemed like divine splendor indeed.
Upon seeing Shuxiu first, the young Taoist from Qingyang Temple was delighted. Upon noticing Yuyouwei, dressed in white cat attire, he paused in surprise. Then, seeing Jiangni step down from the carriage, admiration flooded his eyes. He gently pushed the nuns aside, stood up, and fastened his peachwood sword to his waist before exiting the pavilion. With an elegant bow, he courteously greeted them deeply. As he straightened, he smiled toward Xufengnian and spoke slowly: “This humble Daoist of Qingyang Temple is Wu Shizhen…”
Xufengnian had no intention of allowing the Taoist to indulge in self-praise. He had Lü Qiantang lead the way and walked directly toward Zhahe Pavilion, rudely interrupting: “Wu Shizhen? Who is Qingcheng King Wu Lingsu to you?”
The female Taoists had initially found Xufengnian quite appealing—the young prince’s appearance resembled his mother greatly, possessing eight parts refinement and grace, though unlike his father Xu Shao’s boldness. If not for four years of journeying and sword training that diminished much of his effeminate charm, he would have been even more alluring to women. Of course, he was far superior to Wu Shizhen in presence. Although Xufengnian had grown stronger in physique, his refined aura remained more pronounced than before, surpassed only by the White Fox-Faced Man. Today, apart from that, there was no rival. Though the female disciples of Qingyang admired Xufengnian’s noble and handsome appearance, having spent time with Wu Shizhen, they were accustomed to his elegant discourse and found Xufengnian’s bluntness and directness hard to tolerate. Immediately, they frowned—this impudent young noble had the audacity to directly address the Qingcheng King by name!
Wu Shizhen glanced at Lü Qiantang and Shuxiu, who stood forming a triangle behind Xufengnian. He could see that Shuxiu was a refined and seductive vixen, but Lü Qiantang’s crimson- Rosy Cloudsgreat sword dwarfed ten of his peachwood blades.
Yet Wu Shizhen displayed no panic, maintaining his smile as he calmly replied: “The Temple Master is my father.”
Xufengnian sneered, “So you do have an impressive father—Qingcheng King! Sounds mighty indeed. There are only two kings of non-imperial blood in our dynasty, lucky you were born into such a prestigious family.”
All the female disciples were enraged, whispering in anger, cursing this disrespectful intrusion. But Wu Shizhen, the son of Qingcheng King himself, merely chuckled lightly: “Judging from your accent, you must be from Liangzhou?”
Xufengnian haughtily nodded. Born to be North Liang’s infamous scion—second-to-none, not even third—he required no effort to pretend, naturally radiating a domineering aura that sent chills down people’s spines. He pointed his Xiuwinter blade toward the smiling Wu Shizhen and imperiously declared: “My father rivals Qingcheng King. He wields military authority. He accumulated a fortune over the years. I grew tired of seeing so much gold and silver piled high at home, so I heard Qingcheng Mountain had immortals, thus I came seeking elixirs of immortality. If I can live an extra hundred years, I’d gladly move a million ounces of silver or ten thousand jin of gold here to Qingyang Temple! At minimum, I demand some refined texts on sexual techniques. So you, the Taoist named Wu Shizhen, since you claim to be the son of a King, lead me to the Qingyang Temple atop the mountain! If your father proves unworthy of the title, I’ll tear down your entire Qingyang Temple!”
Wu Shizhen glanced toward old Daoist Wei Shuyang, dressed in the robes of Jiudou Dao, saying: “Please accompany me, my lord. Not to boast, but our Qingyang Temple does possess rare Taoist texts on breath techniques for longevity. Since you brought along an elder from Jiudou Dao, you can verify their authenticity.”
Xufengnian arrogantly replied, “Then what are you waiting for? Lead the way. Satisfy me, and mountains of gold and silver await you.”
Wu Shizhen departed with the group of enraged Qingyang nuns in tow, leaving behind the bamboo recliner in the pavilion’s corner.
Riding his horse, Xufengnian tapped Wu Shizhen’s head with the sheath of his blade, and asked: “Wu Shizhen, tell me about your father’s immortal Dao cultivation.”
Wu’s light footstep already drenched in sweat, he panted as he responded: “My father was once a hermit at Longhu Mountain’s Dan Rock. After perfecting his alchemy, he descended the mountain to perform rituals to cure epidemics, benefiting the populace. On the banks of the Yangtze River, he met Fire Master Wang Tianjun. Seeing my father’s pure Dao heart, Master Wang bestowed the Divine Thunder Saluting Heaven Dao, empowering him to command thirty-six spirits. Later, while traveling through Bai Shu Ze, the twenty-second Taoist Heaven, he encountered an elderly woman on her deathbed who turned out to be the Celestial Thunder Mistress. She gifted my father the Divine Thunder Scripture of Heaven, enabling him to summon storms with breath and command lightning strokes at will. Endowed with divine destiny, my father attained profound enlightenment, capable of invoking spirits and commanding thunderbolts to hunt heretics and exorcise demons! This earned him an imperial summons and the Qingcheng Kingship.”
Xufengnian feigned shock. Despite Wu’s labored breathing, the narrative was fluent and righteous, clearly rehearsed countless times.
Daoist Wei Shuyang smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying. As an elder of Jiudou Dao, he knew well the oily fabrications common to divine legends. The Longhu and Wudang Mountains, aside from their founding patriarchs, required spirits to boost their prestige. Who nowadays heard of a Celestial Master actually encountering celestial beings? Such tales would only invite ridicule.
Peeking from the carriage curtain, Jiangni listened in awe, utterly convinced by the tale. As for Wu Shizhen himself, she hadn’t even bothered glancing at his appearance—his looks and bearing were entirely unknown to her.
Old swordsman Li Chungan grumbled as he sniffed his smelly feet, seemingly repelled by his own stench, waving his hand in disgust. “Don’t believe this over-sexed Taoist’s nonsense—he’s a fraud!”
Jiangni, who revered immortals and deities greatly, anxiously replied: “Don’t blaspheme! Qingyang Temple isn’t far anymore. Be careful a lightning bolt strikes you!”
The old cultivator laughed: “Let it strike! My sword shall cleave it to shreds.”
Anxious Jiangni snapped: “You’ll die if you don’t boast, won’t you?!”
The elder chuckled: “Calm down. You’ll see—Xufengnian won’t let this young Taoist spout nonsense forever.”
Indeed, Xufengnian played his role perfectly—the arrogant, clueless scion of nobility, ruthlessly bursting illusions with harsh truths: “Whether your father truly met Fire Master or Thunder Mistress remains unknown—Wu Linsu can fabricate as he pleases. But I’ve heard this: Wu concocted the Divine Treasures Sutra of Shenxiao to distance himself from Longhu Mountain and Zhengyi Sect, trying to establish his own sect on Qingcheng’s hallowed ground. Alas, no disciples followed. Then someone recommended him, claiming his magic was pathetic but his bedroom techniques exceptional. Hence, he entered the imperial palace. He was wise too—offering pills, secret techniques, and flatteries. He even claimed the Nine Heavens’ highest realm was Shenxiao, governed by the Crown Prince of Jade Emperor himself—the Emperor’s reincarnation! A fine flattery indeed. But rumor has it, Longhu, Wudang, and other Daoist ancestral halls all mock your father as Wu the Big Bragger. Yet not one King dared rebuke him? Not even a word? What kind of King is he?”
Yuyouwei giggled.
Wei Shuyang, playing his role, timidly corrected: “My lord, Qingcheng Mountain is the Fifth Heaven.”
Xufengnian huffed: “Fifth or sixth—it’s all the same!”
Wu’s expression stiffened but retained his smile, neither angry nor agitated. He brushed away a nun reaching to wipe his sweat, wiping himself while gazing forward. Qingyang Temple’s roof was visible in the distance. Having never tasted true hardship, Wu’s lips curled upward as he turned smilingly: “My lord, Qingyang Temple awaits.”
He then instructed the slightly elder nun among them: “Qing Shui, hurry ahead and announce our noble guest.”
She swayed enticingly as she ran off.
Wu’s gaze flickered toward Yuyouwei, who carried the ugly little girl.
Xufengnian feigned indifference but mused: “The young Taoist’s self-control is commendable—has this bastard resolved to let us enter before striking back like a turtle with a hammer?”
Qingyang Temple, unlike Northern Liang’s military camps, had grown too accustomed to pretending to be invulnerable immortals atop Qingcheng—they hadn’t even stationed scouts to anticipate a hundred riders coming down the mountain.
As Qingyang Temple’s main hall emerged in the distance, Xufengnian narrowed his eyes and asked: “Wu Shizhen, do they call you ‘Wu the Little Bragger’?”
Perhaps Wu had endured his entire life without breaking composure, and now he chose not to care for a moment. Inwardly, he had already cursed this arrogant North Liang noble a hundred times, waiting to teach him a lesson within Qingyang Temple. Now that the palace stood in sight with his father inside, Wu’s smile brightened: “Wu the Little Bragger? First time I’ve heard it.”
Xufengnian pointed his Xiuwinter blade ahead toward Shuxiu and laughed: “If I truly find a refined bedroom manual here, behold this woman—an expert in arts of seduction. Older, yes, but her skills are exquisite—an experience unmatched! Forget immortality, indulge in romance! I wouldn’t mind giving Shu Dama to you. We’re fated friends—I’m never stingy.”
Shuxiu visibly trembled.
Wu glanced at her back. Indeed, she was more voluptuous than his own nuns. Observing her silhouette where she sat against the saddle, her curves were full and perfect. Yet, after entering Qingyang Temple, would a single enchantress suffice after this stranger insulted my honorable father, Qingcheng King Wu Lingsu, deriding me as ‘Wu the Little Bragger’? How many more await?
Finally witnessing Wu’s rare moment of unguarded arrogance, Xufengnian muttered: “Alright, let’s see how long you can hold out—first, let me trample Qingyang Temple beneath my horse’s hooves.”
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