Chapter 192: The Some Jianghu Road Is Long, Yet People Remain

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The resonant bell echoed throughout Huashan.

On the path at Qingkeping, Li Yan turned back to look, his heart turbulent.

The moment he forged his blade, it was the day the abbot of Pure Yang Palace ascended to immortality.

No matter how you looked at it, it felt unlucky.

At such a time, they dared not utter idle words and risk bad luck; after bidding farewell to Yu Luo Fengzi and the others, they hurried down the mountain.

This Huashan truly deserves to be the root of Shenzhou.

Looking back in reflection, he realized how bizarre this journey had been—many things remained utterly confusing even now.

For instance, the mysterious Mao Nü and Xiu Yang Gong from the Lie Xian Shenshen Zhuan.

One achieved immortality through ingestion, his divine Gang still intact to this day; the other could perform transformation arts—truly mysterious beyond mystery.

And then there was the inexplicable Huashan Divine Lamp, the sudden arrival of the White Emperor's fortune—all seemed shrouded in mist…

Wang Wang Daoxuan once said that temples and Daoist monasteries differ in three ways:

Those below the mountain embrace the mortal world; those halfway up are half-mortal, half-immortal; but those atop the mountain have severed ties with the mortal realm, seeking the Dao wholeheartedly.

Perhaps one day, when he stands high enough, these mysteries will unravel one by one—but for now, he must still roll in the dust of the mortal world.

Thinking of this, he gripped his Broken Dust Blade tightly, gazed at the distant valley, and said in a low voice: "Comrades, the affairs on the mountain are done. The Some Jianghu road is long—let's set off early."

"Lu San, check if that bunch of fools down the mountain are still there?"

Lu San nodded, whistling through a bamboo pipe, mimicking the cry of a hawk.

Above the gloomy sky, hawks circled and soared.

Seeing them, Lu San frowned sharply: "That bunch is still guarding Yujianfang, rigorously checking everyone coming and going—truly a persistent nuisance."

Li Yan snorted, his eyes growing cold: "Then we have no choice but to fight. Get ready—we're breaking through the blockade!"

There was no doubt that the imperial troops were no easy foe.

Unless you were a master who could cut through chaos like a whirlwind, ordinary cultivators and sorcerers—even those who had reached the Golden Core or Divine Gang stage, even with formidable techniques—would be overwhelmed and perish under such a swarm of attackers.

But for him, this was not unsolvable.

The sky was now dark, a light rain drizzling, not a single ray of sunlight visible.

In such weather, summoning troops posed no problem.

Worst case, summon a company of ghost soldiers to raise a storm, stir up dust and gravel to blind them, and use the chaos to break through.

Two captures of yin offenders yielded six Divine Gang Talismans.

Using one to escape would be acceptable.

Of course, he wouldn't slaughter indiscriminately—escaping with ghost soldiers and using sorcery to massacre imperial troops were two entirely different things.

Some acts were taboos; once committed, the Enforcement Hall would swarm in—even disciples of the Tai Da Xuan Zheng Jiao dared not touch them.

After all, he had seen the situation on the mountain: the Great Da Xuan Dynasty was now at its peak, and imperial authority still crushed divine authority underfoot.

Soon, the three reached the foot of the mountain, crouching behind a corner rock, peering out.

Indeed, a large force of troops patrolled outside the Western Master Yue Temple.

This was the state's sacrificial ground—they dared not storm it, but they guarded every road, rigorously checking all travelers.

Li Yan narrowed his eyes, signaled to the others, then clasped the Warrant of the Dead in his hand, ready to break through.

But just as he was about to cast the spell, an opportunity arose.

From afar across the plain, two riders galloped toward them.

"Master! Master, slow down!"

The servant Zhu Mo cried out anxiously from behind.

Yan Yan Jiuling galloped ahead, mud splashing, his brocade robe filthy, yet his eyes burned brightly.

Though riding in the rain was messy, seeing the scene below, he sighed in relief: "Good—it's not too late."

"Stop!"

Seeing him charge forward, the outer soldiers immediately nocked arrows.

"How dare you!"

Yan Yan Jiuling roared, his usual timid scholar's demeanor gone—eyes blazing: "I am Yan Yan Jiuling, a provincial graduate from Ezhou, sent by Provincial Governor Li! Do you intend to rebel?!"

Though he never trained in fists or feet, at this moment, righteous qi surged within him.

The soldiers blocking his path stared, uncertain and alarmed.

Seeing Yan Yan Jiuling's commanding presence, they quickly lowered their weapons; their leader, uneasy, asked: "Do you have proof?"

"Hmph!"

Yan Yan Jiuling dismounted, sneered, and pulled a white scroll from his chest—several lines of text written upon it, sealed with a bright red official stamp.

But the soldier merely asked out of habit—he couldn't read—and after a hurried glance, bowed deeply: "Sir, please follow me."

Facing thousands of fierce troops, Yan Yan Jiuling showed no fear, chin raised, striding boldly into the central command tent.

Li Yan and the others had seen it all.

They watched Yan Yan Jiuling place his hands on his hips, berating a mounted general—who, though angry, dared not reply, merely bowed and waved his hand, leading his troops away swiftly.

Sha Hearing Sha Lifei whistled: "Well, this fool of a scholar has such presence after all—impressive!"

After the soldiers departed, Yan Yan Jiuling remained where he was, turning to gaze at Huashan, his eyes filled with worry.

Seeing this, Li Yan and the others stepped out from hiding.

"Hahaha…" Seeing they were safe, Yan Yan Jiuling sighed in relief, laughing as he ran over—slipping on the wet ground, nearly falling.

He paid no mind to his disheveled state, smiling broadly: "Good—you're all safe. The river swelled, washed away the bridge, delayed me—I feared I'd failed you."

"Thank you, Brother Yan!" Li Yan bowed solemnly.

Though he had a way to break through, he had seen Yan Yan Jiuling's actions—he admired him and had already marked this debt.

"No need to thank me—it's only right."

Yan Yan Jiuling didn't mind, glanced at Huashan, then at the group, and suddenly sighed: "Comrades, are we parting here?"

Li Yan smiled carefree: "No wine—what kind of farewell is this?"

"Wait for me!"

Saying this, he mounted his horse, rode to a nearby town, bought a jar of wine, and hurried back, pouring a bowl for each of them.

At this moment, Yan Yan Jiuling felt a surge of boldness, raised his bowl, and laughed: "Li Brother, today we part—when will we meet again?"

"But I believe I'll hear your name echo through the Some Jianghu!"

Li Yan raised his bowl and replied solemnly: "In the Some Jianghu, I'll surely hear by next year that Brother Yan has passed the imperial exams."

The Great Da Xuan Dynasty held imperial exams every three years; Yan Yan Jiuling had passed the provincial exam and was preparing to travel to the capital this year.

The exams would likely open around February or March next year—he went ahead early to network, pay respects to mentors.

The current Fengqi was such: if you didn't do this, with no connections or backing, even if you didn't fail outright, you'd be exiled to some remote post.

"I accept your auspicious words, Brother Li!"

They raised their bowls, drank deeply, then smashed them on the ground.

Nearby, Zhu Mo, touched by the moment, spoke up: "Great Hero Li, Uncle Sha, Master Wang—be careful on your journey."

"This Guanzhong is truly unsafe—the army dares to act without orders, bandits are brazen. I heard on Shangyuan Night, someone even tore a man's head off in the street—it's terrifying…"

Li Yan and the others exchanged strange glances.

Sha Hearing Sha Lifei chuckled: "Yes, yes—we're law-abiding folk, wouldn't dare cross paths with such bandits."

Yan Yan Jiuling knew exactly what had happened—he smiled carefree, bowed solemnly: "Comrades, until we meet again!"

"Until we meet again!"

Li Yan and the others bowed in return.

In the drizzle, they bid farewell with muddy wine.

One headed north, entering officialdom.

The others headed south, stepping into the Some Jianghu…

…

In Chang'an, Hua'e Tower.

Ye Ku Lang was drunk, sobered, then drunk again; the ten thousand taels of silver he'd just acquired vanished at an astonishing rate.

Beautiful women in his arms, wine jars clinking at his feet.

Glancing at the note from Manager Wan, he shook his head slightly, then pinched it with his fingers—it turned instantly to ash.

"Left? Good… they've left."

"The road must be walked step by step."

He downed a gulp of wine, bare-chested, stepping to the window. Gazing at Chang'an's splendor, his eyes glazed, as if recalling his first arrival…

In the distant Qingyuan Tower, Zhao Zhao Wanfang clenched the note, then rose and walked to the adjacent private chamber.

"Lord, I'm ready—I'm heading to the capital…"

Inside Chang'an Wang Shizi's Mansion, Li Li Kongqing read the newly delivered note and sighed softly, gazing into the distance.

Beside him, the Wang Shizi's heir was reviewing documents, sensing something, turned and asked: "Li Kongqing, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. My mother's disciple has left—she didn't even get to say goodbye. Mother will be heartbroken."

"Your Highness, tonight I wish to return home to dine with my mother."

"Filial piety is paramount—of course you may." The Wang Shizi's heir nodded, thoughtful: "The one who killed a man on the street during Shangyuan Night?"

"Yes."

"It's better to keep your distance from such Jianghushushi. Also, has Master Yue Master Yue Fachong left too?"

"He just left the Wang Fu."

"Hmph. This man is extremely opportunistic. Though he claims it's for his dharma lineage, he has no right to drag the Wang Fu into his schemes. As for Luo Luo Faqing, he's somewhat interesting—keep an eye on him from now on."

!.

"Yes, Young Master."

Outside the Chang'an Wang Fu, on Shengye Street, Master Yue Master Yue Fachong, clad in a plain white Daoist robe, slowly walked away, holding a child's hand.

"Master!"

The child suddenly looked up, his face round and sturdy, and asked with confusion, "Why won't you avenge my father?"

Master Yue Master Yue Fachong cast him a cool glance. "He brought this upon himself. I told him not to come to Chang'an, yet he insisted—this fate was his own doing."

"And as for you, now that your father is dead, the Brother Qiao family will surely fall. If you want revenge, rely on your own strength. If you lack the ability, just sweep the mountainside quietly."

"Yes, Master."

The child nodded firmly, his eyes filled with resolve.

Master Yue Master Yue Fachong smiled faintly, glanced back at the Chang'an Wang Fu, felt no lingering attachment, and strode away.

Beyond the Chang'an city gate, he suddenly stiffened, fixing his gaze ahead.

The child beside him, sharp-witted, also looked up and saw a distant black-robed Daoist, similarly holding a child's hand as he departed.

"Master, who is that?"

"A Daoist from the Enforcement Hall named Gu Gu Chenzi."

Master Yue Master Yue Fachong, as if remembering something, sighed softly and lowered his voice. "Remember—he belongs to the Tai Da Xuan Zhengjiao, the leading sect of the Xuanmen."

"Revenge means nothing. If you truly have ability, make Shangshan Sect the true Xuanmen orthodoxy—then no one will dare to bully you again."

"Yes, Master."

Far away, Gu Gu Chenzi held the child's hand and gave similar advice: "Your brother Luo Luo Mingzi has already settled in the capital, but that place is no haven—there are countless disciples more gifted than you. Don't cause trouble for your Master."

"Mm."

The child nodded timidly.

He was the son of Zheng Xian, whom Li Yan and the others had saved.

…

Outside Xianyang City, at the entrance to Shangyi Village.

Wan Shopkeeper stared at Zhao Lüzi and burst into anger.

"You stubborn fool, are you really planning to hide in Guanzhong your whole life? Your father feared you'd cause trouble—but your nature? You'd never stir up trouble."

Zhao Lüzi grinned foolishly and scratched his head.

Wan Shopkeeper shook his head helplessly. "When Yan Yan Xiao Ge left, he said if anything happens, you must find a way to notify him—he'll come back no matter how far away."

"Though he acts ruthlessly, he keeps his word. How many friends in a lifetime are truly reliable?"

"Mm."

Zhao Lüzi nodded seriously.

"What a dull donkey."

Wan Shopkeeper sighed. "Also, I've arranged a marriage for you in Xianyang City—how about…?"

"No no no!"

Zhao Lüzi's face flushed red as he waved his hands. "No need, Uncle Wan—I'll handle it myself."

Saying this, he fled in haste.

Watching his retreating figure, Wan Shopkeeper looked helplessly resigned.

Leaving Shangyi Village, Zhao Lüzi walked faster and faster, and within half an hour, returned to the mountain shrine.

The once messy shrine had been cleaned thoroughly; a woman hummed a tune as she wove reeds into mats.

Her face was fair, her beauty striking. Though dressed in coarse cloth and doing peasant work, her slender hands were already roughened—yet she moved with calm grace, as if plucking flowers in a garden.

Seeing Zhao Lüzi, she smiled sweetly. "Back?"

"Mm."

Zhao Lüzi nodded silently, hesitated, then said, "I asked around—the atmosphere in Chang'an is still tense…"

The woman blinked. "So you want me to leave?"

"Th-this… no… I…"

Zhao Lüzi grew flustered, stumbling over his words.

The woman chuckled. "Relax—I'm not leaving."

She gazed toward Chang'an, a flicker of revulsion in her eyes. "I never want to return to that place—everyone scheming, living in constant fear. Here, at least, I sleep peacefully every night."

"Mm."

Zhao Lüzi murmured, scratching the back of his head.

Though he couldn't speak well, the joy in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Fool."

The woman laughed again, her gaze tender. "Don't call me Miss Feng anymore. A wife follows her husband's name—henceforth, I am Zhao Fengshi."

Zhao Lüzi murmured again.

"All you can say is 'mm'?"

"Mm."

"What a fool…"

…

Xianyang City, Zhang Family Martial Arts Hall.

Today was Zhang Zhang Yuanshang's sixtieth birthday.

Though he was a modest man, as Chairman of the Xianyang Divine Fist Association, even he couldn't fully control how his birthday was celebrated.

The entire hall was decorated with lanterns and streamers; disciples bustled about preparing the banquet, and even a troupe from Chang'an had been hired for entertainment.

Zhang Zhang Shitong held a note from Wan Shopkeeper, pushed through the lively crowd, and hurried to the back courtyard.

There, Zhang Zhang Yuanshang squatted on the steps like a farmer, puffing on a large tobacco pipe.

Zhang Zhang Shitong stepped forward and bowed. "Father, Li Yan has left—no mishaps occurred."

"What mishaps could he have?"

Zhang Zhang Yuanshang snorted. "I've figured him out—he's wilder and more trouble-prone than his father. He stirred up so much chaos in Guanzhong—what else could he do but run?"

"Where did they go?"

"They're said to be heading for Ezhou—by now, they've probably reached Manchuan Pass."

"Ezhou? They'll pass through Yunyang Prefecture—that place… ah, forget it. That boy only takes advantage and never suffers losses. Let him go."

Seeing Zhang Zhang Yuanshang's irritation, Zhang Zhang Shitong whispered, "Father, you invited both families—if they…"

"What could possibly happen?"

Zhang Zhang Yuanshang glared. "Today is my birthday—they may be angry, but they'll hold it in. Some things are better said openly. We're all family men, just trying to make a living."

"Just like that Li Yan kid—kill someone at the slightest provocation!"

"Everyone's here. Let's go."

He rose, patted his backside, and left the courtyard.

The front courtyard was now filled with noise.

"Greetings, Master Zhang!"

"Respectful greetings, Chairman Zhang!"

As Zhang Zhang Yuanshang arrived, everyone rushed forward to pay respects.

Zhang Zhang Yuanshang laughed and chatted amiably; the hall buzzed with harmony.

From the distant stage, an old male actor sang in a mournful, majestic voice:

"Heaven and earth turn, wise and foolish awaken or drown; ancient and modern rise and fall—sword blossoms chill the night, heart still yearns for home, yet here I am… again, in a foreign land…"

(End of Chapter)