Chapter 22

Following the commotion caused by the uncles and aunts, the entire town boiled over.

Zhangxiangzhen was a famous wealthy town far and near, and it was adjacent to a precious temple, yet it hadn't produced an immortal for many years, making them feel inferior. Fortunately, last year, the Cheng family's young scholar was admitted to the immortal mountain, and the people in town felt their faces had more luster.

As for the fact that the Cheng family were not locals and had moved here twenty years ago, no one dared to mention it. This Zhangxiangzhen was originally a town of mixed surnames; what was wrong with having one more Cheng family?

Old Scholar Cheng was a man of profound learning with the merit of cultivation, Madam Cheng Zhu was virtuous and kind with a reputation for benevolence, and the young scholar Cheng was an immortal's disciple—these were all written into the "Zhangxiangzhen Annals" by the village head himself! Who dared to gossip?

Now that the immortal had returned home, naturally, it had to be celebrated grandly.

Cheng Yunqi couldn't stop them and couldn't explain to them that he was just a small fry in the Qi Refinement Realm who hadn't even opened his own residence.

And the few aunts who first entered Cheng Yunqi's courtyard were sharp-eyed; they immediately saw that there was not a speck of dust left in the room. But how long had it been from the time Cheng Yunqi pushed the door open to when they entered? How could it have been cleaned?

It must be that in a place where an immortal resides, filth naturally dissipates.

After this miracle quietly spread, the banquet grew larger and larger. Everyone insisted that Cheng Yunqi stay in town for a few more days and not rush back to the mountain, so that the town could also soak up some immortal energy.

Cheng Yunqi was between laughter and tears, but he agreed to stay for a few more days.

The lingering rain couldn't stop the neighbors' enthusiasm. Setting up tents, gathering firewood to warm stoves, slaughtering chickens and sheep, carrying jugs of wine—it was so lively!

Cheng Yunqi got very drunk that night.

————

The second day.

The mortal world is the most tender trap, wearing down a person's will.

For the first time in many years, Cheng Yunqi got up late. He slept exceptionally soundly in his own bed.

Getting up and coming to the courtyard, the rain had stopped, and a rainbow hung in the sky; the heavens were truly kind.

Cheng Yunqi performed his exercises as usual, followed by breathing and meditation, neglecting neither.

After refreshing his spirit, Cheng Yunqi carried a large bamboo basket on his back, took paper candles and offerings, and walked into the mountains and wilderness.

Arriving before the ancestors' graves, there were no weeds or loose stones; it seemed they were well cared for by the neighbors, and presumably, they would be cared for even better in the future.

Cheng Yunqi wiped the stone tablet, added a handful of soil, placed the offerings, and talked for a while.

Afterward, Cheng Yunqi walked deeper into the mountains and wilderness, and with a few leaps, his figure disappeared.

When he returned to town, it was afternoon, and Cheng Yunqi's basket was already full.

He set up a large pot in the courtyard, politely declined the help of the aunts, and began to boil medicinal herbs.

When the neighbors heard that Cheng Yunqi was refining medicine for the townspeople, their bodies trembled.

A few who could keep their cool quietly spread the news to the heads of each household.

And so, in no time, the entire town went quiet. If anyone's dog barked in front of their door, it would be hit with a stick.

Those without outsiders in their homes were happily rubbing their hands and waiting. Those who had relatives or friends at home, although their hearts were pounding, suppressed it on their faces, pretending nothing was happening, but they still unconsciously lowered their voices.

The village head had already put out the word: whoever leaked this news and let outsiders know would not be tolerated in this town.

Neighbors have their closeness and distance. Look at the dozen households in Green Tile Alley; they had "Peace and Safety" doorplates carved by the immortal. Although they were hand-made by the immortal before he became an immortal, they must surely have spiritual energy, and others were envious.

But today was different. The young scholar said every household would have elixir pills. This was a great blessing, and the news must absolutely not be leaked.

Zhangxiangzhen is called a town, but it's actually just a village. It only became wealthy because it backed Yulin Temple and had the name of the Three Pure Immortal Mountains, relying on ancestral property and ancestral incense-making skills. They built brick houses and paved stone roads, so they changed the village to a town. In reality, it was still the same group of people, and sticking together against outsiders was an instinct for them.

Everyone waited until the next day, and those relatives and friends were all sent away by their hosts for various reasons.

It was probably around noon. The sunny day after the summer rain was exceptionally bright, and the weather suddenly turned hot. Everyone was waiting anxiously when the gate of the Cheng courtyard finally opened.

Cheng Yunqi carried a linen bag and handed it to Uncle Wang, who was waiting outside the gate.

"These are not miraculous elixirs, just pills to replenish Qi and dispel illness. If there is any injury or sudden illness that a doctor cannot save, you can take them and try. I'll trouble Uncle Wang to distribute them to everyone. If there are extras, it's fine to collect them centrally, or give more to the old and weak; I won't concern myself with that."

Uncle Wang took the linen bag with trembling hands and, without waiting for Cheng Yunqi to react, knelt down and kowtowed with a bang.

Cheng Yunqi hurriedly pulled him up, saying repeatedly that it wasn't necessary.

Watching Uncle Wang take the linen bag away with endless gratitude, Cheng Yunqi felt quite embarrassed. The pills in the bag were grayish-white; if he took them to sell at a pill workshop in the mountains, he would probably be beaten to death. It was just that his pill-refining level was only so-so; being able to refine pills in a large pot, what else could he be dissatisfied with?

Now that the master had returned, no one dared to enter the courtyard casually, so no one knew that the large bundle in Cheng Yunqi's room had already shrunk by half.

————

The third day.

Cheng Yunqi got up early. The sky was still dim, and by the residual starlight, the youth walked slowly toward Yulin Temple.

Meanwhile, in the temple:

"Temple Master, are we still practicing sword today?"

A young Daoist boy holding a sword came to the front of Daoist Zhenwei's room.

The young Daoist boy was very strange. In his not-so-long memory, the old Temple Master had never practiced sword, only breathing and fist exercises. Why did he suddenly think of practicing sword?

It was after parting with that very good-looking brother the day before yesterday that he started looking for a sword. The next morning, he got up early to practice sword right on the square in front of the temple gate, which excited the pilgrims and lay Buddhists who came to offer incense. Under the gaze of the crowd, the old Temple Master practiced for over an hour. He didn't even know the Temple Master was in such good health, and those lay Buddhists called the Temple Master an immortal.

"Practice!"

The old Temple Master pushed open the door and strode toward the front courtyard, swift as a shooting star; he didn't look like a centenarian at all.

There were many people in the temple today. One reason was that the continuous overcast rain had finally stopped, and people wanted to go out. The second was because the old Temple Master had danced with the sword for over an hour yesterday, and the news had spread, so everyone wanted to come and see.

Daoist Zhenwei had just left the backyard and saw the swarming crowd in the temple. His expression stiffened, and he immediately stopped. He stood on tiptoe and peeked through the back window, but didn't see the person he wanted to see. He whispered to the boy, "Practice in the backyard today. You watch the front courtyard. If someone comes looking for the old Daoist, just say I'm not here. But if someone claiming to be Cheng Yunqi comes looking, bring him over."

"Is that the pretty brother you sent off that day, Temple Master?"

The young Daoist boy asked, looking up.

"You're the clever one."

The old Temple Master patted the boy's head and said with a smile.

The Daoist boy looked at the old Temple Master and said yes, but his dark eyes rolled around, thinking to himself: could it be that Grandpa Temple Master practiced sword just for that pretty brother?

Fortunately, Cheng Yunqi didn't keep the boy waiting long. When the sun first shone on the temple, Cheng Yunqi also leisurely arrived. Looking at the bustling crowd in the temple, he couldn't help but sigh that Yulin Temple's incense was still so prosperous.

Just as he entered the temple, a jade-like Daoist boy ran over.

Cheng Yunqi looked at him, puzzled.

The boy beckoned, signaling Cheng Yunqi to lean over.

Cheng Yunqi was curious and lowered his head to listen.

"Are you here to find the Temple Master?"

Cheng Yunqi nodded.

"Then come with me." The young Daoist boy tugged at Cheng Yunqi's robe, signaling him to follow.

Just like that, Cheng Yunqi followed the boy through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd and all the way to the backyard.

The backyard was the daily residence for the Daoist priests in the temple, and pilgrims didn't enter. It was daytime, and there were many people in the temple, so the priests were busy in the front courtyard, and the backyard was empty, with no one around.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!"

The sound of something breaking through the air caught Cheng Yunqi's attention.

The boy led Cheng Yunqi over.

Only to see Daoist Zhenwei dancing with a sword behind a strange rock. The Daoist had wide robes and large sleeves, his beard and hair like a waterfall, moving like a dragon or a crane. The old man was definitely not just going through the motions. Although Cheng Yunqi was an outsider, he could see that the sword in the Temple Master's hand was as swift as a gale and as powerful as thunder, with the sound of the sword ringing incessantly in his ears.

"Good sword technique!"

Cheng Yunqi praised.

"The Temple Master is just for..."

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"The guest has arrived, boy, step back!"

The old Temple Master suddenly stopped his sword and, without waiting for the boy to finish, interrupted him.

The Daoist boy hummed a sound and ran off to play.

"Yunqi is here."

The old Temple Master said to Cheng Yunqi with a smile.

Cheng Yunqi bowed, "I didn't know the Temple Master was still practicing sword all the time."

The Temple Master coughed lightly; setting the stage was really not his strong suit, so he simply got straight to the point, "Yesterday I heard you say you also like sword arts, but because practicing sword consumes time and materials, you had to put it aside. Is that so?"

Cheng Yunqi nodded; it was indeed so. He hated Brother Bingkun for laughing at him before leaving the sect for aspiring to be a swordsman yet not having a sword.

"Then do you understand sword arts?"

"Only a little. In the sect, Throwing Jianshan mainly practices flying sword arts and magic sword arts, while Mirror Stone Forest mainly practices body sword arts, and practices the art of stepping on the stars to match it."

The old Temple Master nodded, "Which kind of sword art do you favor?"

Cheng Yunqi said with a smile: "They all say practicing sword is expensive, but among these three, flying swords and magic swords are the most expensive. So I haven't had much contact with them in my daily life. Body sword is a bit better, but the cheapest hundred-refined pig iron sword in the sect isn't cheap either, and I don't have one. I just shaved bamboo into a sword myself and practiced some sword moves of body sword arts. I haven't entered the gate of any of the three, so if the Temple Master asks me which sword art I favor, I really can't answer."

When the Temple Master heard Cheng Yunqi say that practicing body sword was expensive and not inferior to flying swords or magic swords, he shook his head imperceptibly, and then smiled when he heard the rest.

"The old man has been obsessed with the sword for a lifetime. Although I haven't practiced anything of note in this lifetime, I've at least spent decades shamelessly hanging around the sect. Would you be willing to listen to me talk about it?"

Cheng Yunqi was naturally willing. The old Temple Master's words couldn't be false; after all, he was someone who had practiced in the mountains for decades and valued sword practice even more than Qi refining. Giving pointers to an outsider like him was more than enough. There wasn't such a good opportunity in the sect; everyone was very busy.

"Flying swords, magic swords, and body swords each have their own merits. The old Daoist was first registered at Throwing Jianshan, but later became more interested in body sword arts."

The old Temple Master first confessed to Cheng Yunqi the sword art he favored.

"Flying swords have had the greatest reputation in recent years. To be honest, it's a trend led by several families in Western Shu."

Daoist Zhenwei mentioned Western Shu, which was the place Cheng Yunqi had heard about most after entering the mountains.

"Emei, Qingcheng, Qingyang, and Heming in Western Shu are all major sects that practice flying swords. They mainly practice flying swords, matched with the Primordial Spirit Dao. With a single thought, the flying sword escapes into the sky, taking a person's head from a thousand miles away. It is indeed truly powerful."

"The flying sword is a supreme treasure for killing. Its essence lies only in the words 'swift' and 'sharp'. To be swift, one must use powerful mental strength to drive it. To be sharp, its own quality cannot be poor, and it must be tempered and honed constantly. How to hone it? There are two methods. One is to rely on external objects, like sword-raising gourds, sword-sharpening stones, and wind caves. Which of these doesn't burn money? Another method is to rely on human power, raising it in the lung aperture or the Purple Palace, tempering it with lung aperture essence blood or mental strength."

"This is where the difference manifests. At my Throwing Jianshan, we advocate raising with objects as the main method and raising with humans as a supplement. It's still that same saying: Qi refining is the foundation, and inner elixir is the Great Dao. How can one feed objects with one's body? Even if raising with humans, there are many rules, such as not being allowed to open the Gold Palace alone to raise a flying sword; one must open another Fire Palace or Earth Palace to suppress the metal nature before one can raise a sword. And honing a sword with mental strength is something only allowed in the second realm."

"The Shushan Sword Sect is the exact opposite. They view the flesh as a sword tool, the Primordial Spirit as the true spirit, and practice the lung palace alone as a sword bag. From the beginning of cultivation, they aim for the Primordial Spirit to drive the sword and ascend."

Speaking of this, Daoist Zhenwei smiled lightly, "I remember the master at the time said that those people in Shushan are, to put it nicely, impatient as fire and hate evil like an enemy; to put it bluntly, they practiced sword until their brains were broken."

Cheng Yunqi also laughed along.

"However, they can break through and make a name for themselves in the land surrounded by demons in the West. Naturally, they have their skills. They use thought to urge the sword and thought to hone the sword, but isn't this also using the sword to hone the thought? They attach mental strength to the sword, and over time, it naturally carries the sharpness of the sword weapon. They call this sword intent."

"When you travel and meet people from there, you will naturally be able to feel it. Without even drawing the sword, they just stand there quietly, and there is a sword intent permeating, making people feel like they have thorns on their backs."

Cheng Yunqi nodded secretly. This time he went to the Southern Wilderness, which was actually quite close to Western Shu.

"Actually, the magic sword is the oldest school. It is a treasure used by practitioners to perform magic. The magic sword is a medium that connects the human body's magic power with the heaven and earth's spiritual energy. It can also be called a talisman sword, so even the lowest-grade magic sword must be refined from five-element essence gold."

"I think the essence of the magic sword lies in the words 'warm' and 'hold'. Warm means warm-raising; it needs to be washed and irrigated with magic power every day. Hold means blessing; it is to engrave talismans on the sword body. If you have any insights in your daily life, you write them on the sword. The magic sword doesn't move in daily life, but when it moves, magic power pours out like a river and sea, commanding the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to perform the deeds of gods and ghosts."

"Flying swords are said to take heads from a thousand miles away, and magic swords are about the same. With one sword swing, magic power sprays out like the brilliance of the great sun, cutting clouds and breaking mountains. They call this sword Qi."

"So magic swords pay the most attention to water-grinding work and the sword master's comprehension; it takes a long time to see its power."

"The most famous magic sword is naturally the Heavenly Master Sword of the Heavenly Master Mansion on Mount Longhu. An eight-thousand-year-old magic sword, blessed by generations of Heavenly Masters, I don't think anyone wants to try it, not even a Heavenly Immortal."

The Heavenly Master Mansion had a deep foundation, and Cheng Yunqi clicked his tongue secretly.

The old Daoist paused and said again: "The body sword is a side sword, an object outside the body, the sharpness of a pure object. Some say it is a sword used by ordinary people, but the old Daoist does not agree."

"The body sword is a sword of skill and attack. Its essence lies in the words 'brave' and 'change'."

"What is brave? It is to go forward without hesitation, to place oneself in a dead end and then live. Practicing body sword arts, advance and retreat are only within a foot, life and death are only within a hair's breadth. Where one steps, one can defeat a country."

"What is change? The myriad phenomena are in an instant. The sword comes out like an antelope hanging its horns, nowhere to be found, impossible to defend. Whether it is a flying sword coming through the air or a magic sword opening and closing, it always loses change. But holding a side sword, the sword moves with the heart, and the enemy will never know where the next sword will fall."

"This is still the way of the hands. Body sword arts pay equal attention to hands and feet, and footwork is the finishing touch."

"Body sword arts must be matched with the art of stepping on the stars. One step out, the stars move, this is change. One sword stabs out, chasing the stars and the moon, this is brave."

"When the sword has bravery and change, it becomes momentum. Once you have momentum, the enemy can never win against you again."

"The best body sword practice is recognized as the Hengshan lineage of the Sword Sect. When the sword comes out, the galaxy appears. Back then, the Hengshan Mountain Master took his sword out of the mountain, entered the Southern Wilderness alone, and swept away countless demon dens. Some praised him: 'Fighting three thousand miles in one step, one sword once blocked a million soldiers.' Where is this sword technique inferior to flying swords or magic swords? Who still dares to say it is a mortal's sword?"

Speaking of this, the old Temple Master couldn't help himself and slapped the table and stood up.

And Cheng Yunqi, hearing the theory of the three swords, felt his spirit sway and asked himself, he really didn't know who was superior and who was inferior.

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(End of chapter)