Chapter 129: Whether in how one conducts oneself or in how one handles affairs, the two most important words are

Outside the great hall.

Zhuang Buran stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the pavilions and halls all around.

After a thorough sweep of the Wushen Jue Palace, Wuming had recovered his normal gait. Seeing the white-haired, black-robed man standing motionless, his heart skipped a beat, and he spoke slowly:

"A stone burned in fire and soaked in water, repeated several times, will shatter. In the arena of power, there is likewise no kinship, only the two words 'fame and profit.' In the end, it all amounts to nothing."

"Just like you in the past, and Jue Wushen today. This is the fame, profit, and wealth of the world; you bring nothing when you are born, and you take nothing when you die. Once an obsession takes root, it only harms others and oneself."

The white-haired, black-robed man suddenly smiled:

"Brother Wuming, you see things quite clearly. So full of righteous energy, unyielding, indifferent to fame and profit, and with the world at heart—how about I gift you eight words: Heavenly Sword Wuming, crippled but not useless."

"I hope that in the future, you can remain as you are now, a model of a crippled body with an unyielding spirit, so that even after having your cultivation crippled several times, you can still climb back up."

Wuming gave a bitter laugh:

"Brother Xiong, if I weren't facing you, I should have some confidence that I wouldn't be crippled again."

"Very confident. I have now truly witnessed the edge you possess as a swordsman. I almost forgot that the reason you are called the 'Martial Arts Myth' is because, in your youth, you were invincible across the world."

The white-haired, black-robed man spoke unhurriedly:

"Heavenly Sword Wuming learned the sword at sixteen, created the 'Unknown Sword Art,' obtained the Hero Sword by chance, and defeated countless experts."

"At nineteen, you married. Because you were famous in the Jianghu for being heartless with your sword and ruthless in taking lives, you incurred countless grudges, leading to a siege by the three great families and seven great sects of the martial arts world at Mount Huang."

"Yet the result was unexpected by everyone! You defeated ten sect leaders, leaving them either dead or wounded, which caused the martial arts world to fall into a period of stagnation."

"As the Heavenly Sword who fought until the Jianghu suffered a generational gap, how could you not be considered a Martial Arts Myth of a generation?"

The bitter look on Wuming's face deepened:

"Those are just unbearable memories of youthful arrogance; let us not speak of them again."

The white-haired, black-robed man glanced sideways at his daughter and disciple behind him, then fixed his gaze on Wuming:

"Therefore, since you have turned from a demon to a Buddha, you should place some trust in me. Who knows, perhaps I have changed just like you, and have also begun to be indifferent to fame and profit, with the world at heart."

Wuming said with integrity:

"Brother Xiong's schemes are deep and hidden, impossible to fathom. Wuming can only let time slowly add to my trust in you."

"Hehe, doing good is like rowing a boat against the current; doing evil is like a river flowing downward." The white-haired, black-robed man laughed:

"Brother Wuming, since you have such confidence in your martial arts and believe you will no longer face the tribulation of being crippled, how about I make a bet with you?"

"What bet?" Wuming asked, puzzled.

"Let's bet that if you encounter a strong enemy in the future, you will be crippled again." Zhuang Buran raised an eyebrow:

"If you suffer such a tribulation, you will owe me two promises that do not violate my principles and do not harm the heavens or reason."

Wuming did not hesitate in the slightest:

"If I do not suffer such a tribulation, I won't ask you to have the world at heart; I only ask that you continue to live in seclusion, just as you have for the past five years."

"Sigh, Brother Wuming, you are too good, and it doesn't stop me from making things difficult for you."

This sentence from the white-haired, black-robed man instantly made Youruo unable to hold back her laughter. Qin Shuang was alright, as he was somewhat used to it, but Bu Jingyun only felt that this person's temperament had changed so much he almost didn't recognize him.

Wuming's face darkened, and he said:

"Even if you win the bet, you would probably still help with all your might, just like now, right?"

"I have never been willing to help for nothing, nor do I like to meddle in affairs for no reason." Zhuang Buran laughed and held up three fingers:

"That is a separate price."

Seeing this scene, Youruo quickly turned around, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

Qin Shuang also looked as if he couldn't help but laugh. Bu Jingyun finally understood why this person had made things so difficult for him earlier, and his heart felt inexplicably better, simply because the dignified Martial Arts Myth was also suffering setback after setback.

"Youruo, Shuang'er, this foul-smelling Wushen Jue Palace is meaningless. Now that Jue Wushen is dead, his son Jue Xin will likely catch up to his father on the road to the underworld. This trip has been a complete success; we can go home."

The white-haired, black-robed man walked down the stone steps with his hands behind his back.

Qin Shuang immediately looked at Bu Jingyun:

"Junior Brother Yun, what exactly are your plans?"

"Senior Brother Yun, why don't you just endure it for now." Youruo suddenly suggested:

"Anyway, you've survived for so many years before; a few more days won't make a difference."

The three of them couldn't help but look deeply at Youruo.

"Is there something wrong with what I said?" Youruo asked tentatively.

"Young Lady Youruo, it would be best not to imitate your father's temperament too much," Wuming said with an indescribable expression.

"Junior Sister, your martial arts are not as high as Master's after all. If you imitate his style of handling affairs, I'm afraid..." Qin Shuang stopped, his words full of meaning.

Youruo smiled and pursed her lips:

"I always feel like you are making things difficult for me. A daughter resembling her father—isn't that a matter of course?"

Bu Jingyun made a prompt decision:

"Junior Brother Feng's Demon Blade is complete, and he can shift all his acupoints. If he wakes up, with my strength alone, I won't be able to restrain him. Let's take him to Ruoshui Ju first."

Youruo and the others immediately knew that Bu Jingyun's attitude had softened, so they didn't say much more and went to chase after the white-haired, black-robed man who was walking further and further away.

Three days later.

Outside Ruoshui Ju.

Zhuang Buran lay leisurely under the old peach tree. Bu Jingyun walked out of the small courtyard with a gloomy face, only to see several people sneaking around the entrance.

Besides Youruo and Qin Shuang, there was also a woman of peerless beauty.

Her skin was like snow, her eyebrows like distant mountains covered in dark green, her eyes clear as autumn water, the corners of her eyes slightly drooping, carrying a gentle and melancholy temperament. From the corner of her left eye to her cheekbone was a pale red butterfly-shaped birthmark. It was none other than Second Dream.

Yesterday, she had passed through the China Pavilion and followed the trail to the peach forest.

"Senior Brother Shuang, do you think Senior Brother Yun can really cry?" Youruo whispered behind the door.

"Since Junior Brother Yun sought out Master, he should have some confidence," Qin Shuang replied uncertainly.

Second Dream sighed softly:

"I have discovered that the temperament of this Master of yours is even more eccentric than that of the First Evil Emperor."

On the other side, Bu Jingyun walked up to the white-haired, black-robed man and said with his head lowered:

"I can't cry."

"I have taught you for so many years; how could I not know that you would never be able to cry unless you were at your most sorrowful and heartbroken moment?"

The white-haired, black-robed man flicked his hand, and the wine on the table beside him turned into a transparent curtain of water:

"In consideration of our many years of master-disciple relationship, I will give you a helping hand, otherwise you will say I am cold-blooded and heartless again."

His fingertips tapped lightly on the water curtain, and the ripples produced actually played a soothing and melodious tune.

Immediately, not only was Bu Jingyun stunned, with an indescribable look of grief appearing on his face, but the three people behind the courtyard door were the same.

Unconsciously, they recalled the most sorrowful and painful events. Youruo and Second Dream were the first to cry out loud, Qin Shuang also couldn't stop his tears, and then Bu Jingyun could no longer suppress his extreme grief and shed tears silently.

Various distressing things appeared in their minds, such as losing a mother or father, or thinking of losing a loved one.

I don't know how much time passed, but the four of them stood before the white-haired, black-robed man with red, swollen eyes.

"Father, why don't you distinguish between friend and foe!" Youruo said, sobbing.

Zhuang Buran acted as if he hadn't heard, and looked at Bu Jingyun with a smile:

"Jingyun, I never help for nothing. Since I helped you cry, it shouldn't be too much to let this sorrow in your heart last for a few months, right?"

Bu Jingyun became even more silent upon hearing this.

The white-haired, black-robed man's gaze fell on Youruo and the other two:

"As for you three, since you've come, you should share the blessings and the hardships. This 'Great Sorrow Ode' happens to be a piece for tempering the heart. Crying heartily is beneficial for relaxing the body and mind."

"Master, why do I feel that the sorrow in my heart hasn't diminished?" Qin Shuang said helplessly:

"Could it be that I have to be sad for a few months too?"

"Father, I think I am the same." Youruo said immediately.

"Senior, I am the same." Second Dream choked with sobs.

"Whether in how one conducts oneself or in how one handles affairs, the two most important words are fairness." Zhuang Buran was all smiles:

"By the way, a few months is just an estimate. If you can't break free from this sorrow, it will last seven or eight years at the lightest, and you might even die of depression at the worst. However, based on your aptitude and comprehension, you should be able to get rid of it in a year at most."

The few of them felt their moods rise and fall, and couldn't help but shed tears again.

Seeing this, the white-haired, black-robed man laughed out loud with schadenfreude and looked at Bu Jingyun:

"Why haven't you kowtowed to pay your respects? For a disciple like you who resembles me the most, I have been looking forward to this scene for a long time."

Upon hearing this, Bu Jingyun couldn't help but clench his fists. But after hesitating for a while, he finally performed the great kowtow ritual of three bows and nine knocks, and then gritted his teeth and said:

"Greetings, Master."

"Good disciple, I just love to see you gritting your teeth in hatred, yet helpless." The white-haired, black-robed man clapped his hands and laughed.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 130 =====