Chapter Eleven
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In a secluded mansion within the city, Prince Zhong Er leisurely sipped his tea.
Qin Zhaotian entered through the door.
“You’re looking for me?”
“Come try this mountain tea, it just arrived from Linpu a few days ago!”
Qin Zhaotian sat down.
“How’s your hand? Any lingering effects?”
“That hair was precise. If the bone was really pierced through, I might never be able to wield a sword again!”
“The trial for admission to Baiyun Peak is coming up soon; it’s time to consider this matter seriously.”
Qin Zhaotian frowned.
“Should I go then?”
Prince Zhong Er shook his head.
“The court’s civil officials are already suspicious of me. It’s best you don’t step onto the stage!”
Qin Zhaotian nodded.
“Then who do you think is suitable?”
“As long as it’s not a disciple from a prestigious sect. Sanqing Peak has already sent someone to court Li Luotian from Baiyun Peak!”
Qin Zhaotian pondered. “I could send Yang Zaoci; the Yang family spear technique should get him in!”
Prince Zhong Er nodded. “This is a rare opportunity. I place great importance on the outcome. Don’t let me down.”
Qin Zhaotian nodded and left.
Below Jiuling Peak,
Mu Xiangming sped toward the southern side of Jiuling Peak. Her figure darted along the steep cliffs as lightly as a feather in the wind, sometimes weightless, sometimes grounded, bathed in sunlight like a celestial maiden descending to earth, ethereal and otherworldly.
Mu Xiangming paused. Not far away, a man from Sanqing Peak lay on a rock ledge, seemingly expecting her passage.
“Return my master, mountain bandit!”
The Sanqing Peak man leapt down, dressed in a dignified, flowing white robe, yet his demeanor was that of a vile scoundrel.
Mu Xiangming withdrew three silver needles from her sleeve, hiding them behind her back. Lin He was still waiting to rendezvous, and her master was grievously poisoned; she had to resolve this quickly. With that thought, Mu Xiangming launched the silver needles, then leapt forward.
The Sanqing Peak man swiftly dodged to the side, a cruel smile on his lips as he struck with a palm. A wolf’s howl echoed, and Mu Xiangming was blasted to the ground.
Her heart sank.
She immediately slapped the ground with both hands, lifting herself up and sending five more silver needles flying.
The Sanqing Peak man leaned back to evade, his reflexes sharp as if toying with her.
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The Sanqing Peak man laughed loudly. “You can’t even defeat Qin Zhaotian, and yet you think you can handle me?”
Mu Xiangming refused to waste words, pulling out all the silver needles from her pouch, ready for a desperate fight.
“Aren’t you here to save your master, Miss Mu?”
“If I can’t rescue my master today, I will die right here!”
She prepared to launch the needles again.
“Wait, wait!” The Sanqing Peak man hastily raised his hand to stop her. “I’m here waiting for you to take you to save Master Tao!”
Mu Xiangming eyed him warily, repelled by his lecherous expression. She indeed could not defeat him.
The man approached, reaching to touch her face. Mu Xiangming struck his hand away and glared at him with hostility. Unable to resist, the man turned and laughed.
“With such a fine day, I have no reason to wait here for you. My father and Master Tao were old friends. I accidentally wounded him that day. Now, I can only rely on your ‘Yuyin Jiutian’ to heal him.”
Mu Xiangming frowned deeply.
Below Jiuling Peak,
Inside a house, the blind old woman brought out a wooden box covered with mold and emitting a foul stench.
She took the box outside where sunlight hit its surface, causing the mold to instantly vanish. The box’s surface was rotted, and even the lock was rusted and broke apart with a slight tug.
Lin He opened the box, revealing a sword lying within.
The scabbard was carved with a phoenix, inlaid with gold that shimmered brilliantly. The guard resembled phoenix wings, the hilt like a dragon’s body, adorned with jade scales that glistened like dragon scales. The craftsmanship was exquisite—the phoenix design graceful, the dragon design vigorous—imbuing the scabbard with the supreme power of two sacred beasts.
Lin He marveled, “Such a treasure—Grandma must have been a formidable figure in the martial world!”
“This sword must have fallen from the mountain. It was discovered twenty years ago,” the old woman said.
She drew the sword slightly out of its scabbard, producing a sharp, resonant sound. The blade shimmered with iridescent colors under the sun, prompting her to marvel: after so long, it still holds such quality.
She tossed the sword to Lin He, who caught it. The sword weighed at least three jin. Drawing the blade itself, it weighed about one jin; most of the weight was in the scabbard. The blade sparkled with dazzling colors in the sunlight, its edge so sharp it seemed capable of cleaving all things. It was Lin He’s first time holding a sword; his heart raced as he immersed himself in the sword’s spirit.
The old woman could tell Lin He lacked any martial foundation. She interrupted his admiration.
“Though ‘Yuyin Jiutian’ is powerful—light as a feather in body and as hard as steel in spirit—any martial art requires practical application. No matter how strong the theory, without practice it’s like a toothless tiger, only frightening on the surface.”
Lin He understood the meaning.
“My ‘Yuyin Jiutian’ was taught by my mother, but she never allowed me to train. Like you said, it’s all theory, no real technique.”
The old woman nodded and bent to pick up a slender branch from the ground.
“From today on, I will teach you the opening moves of four sword techniques. Mix them together so no one can predict your moves, and you can avoid unnecessary trouble.”
Lin He said, “Grandma, these four sword techniques—are they truly comparable to Senior Deng, the great master of the current martial world?”
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The old woman laughed heartily.
“I’m no match for him in swordsmanship; he pursues the pinnacle of sword intent, while I only know some sword moves.”
She twisted her body, adjusting her posture.
“It's been a long time since I practiced; my body has grown stiff.”
Preparing to begin, Lin He focused intently.
The first sword form: the seventy-two moves of the Lin Xiao Sword Technique, created by Lord Ming Taigong.
Seventy-two moves in total, this technique focuses power from the legs. The old woman wielded the branch with unpredictable grace; snow swirled around her, forming a white barrier. Though the sword was light, her movements were swift and precise.
The second sword form: the Deng family’s Thirty-six Moves of the Moon Red Immortal Sword Technique.
Thirty-six moves total. The thin branch in her hand sliced through the air with sharp sounds that never broke. This technique relies on arm strength more than footwork, lacking agility but fierce and unpredictable—hard to attack or defend against. It’s most effective in close combat.
The third sword form: the Fifty-four Moves Tai Chi Sword from the Nanyang sect.
Fifty-four moves focusing power from the waist. The old woman floated like a thin sheet of paper in midair, her swordplay graceful and delicate, using softness to overcome hardness. Its clear advantage was balanced offense and defense.
The fourth sword form: the Hundred and Eight Moves ‘Turning Back from the Sea of Suffering’ by Sword Saint Chen Shimin.
The old woman closed her eyes, raising the sword before her chest, releasing inner energy as she hovered. The snow around her froze midair, as if time itself had stopped. This form requires the unification of heart and sword—heart as sword, sword as heart; no sword surpasses having a sword, no heart surpasses having a heart.
Slowly opening her eyes, the old woman landed, and the snowflakes fell.
“‘Turning Back from the Sea of Suffering’ is known as the world’s greatest sword technique, but in practical combat, it is rarely applicable. Aside from Chen Shimin, no one has comprehended this sword form in centuries. I will only teach you some basic moves from these four sword techniques.”
Lin He asked, “Does that mean Deng Qiugeng, the current sword peak master, hasn’t fully grasped ‘Turning Back from the Sea of Suffering’?”
The old woman laughed.
“His version only understands the ‘no sword surpasses having a sword’ part, not the ‘no heart surpasses having a heart.’ Only Sword Saint Chen Shimin truly reached that realm.”
From her tone, Lin He sensed her deep reverence for the Sword Saint. Holding the sword, he pondered the highest state of swordsmanship. What does it mean for no sword to surpass having a sword? What of no heart surpassing having a heart?
At that moment, a gust of wind blew a leaf across the sword’s edge, slicing it cleanly in two.
The old woman saw Lin He still admiring the sword.
“Enough daydreaming! Hurry and start learning. The sun sets early here, and later you’ll have to eat in the dark!”