Chapter 526: A New Mission

Li Yan used the Immortal Seal Technique.

This skill, in plain terms, is an advanced method of force manipulation, mobilizing fascia and utilizing the Eight Trigrams and Nine Palaces to neutralize force within the body.

By employing tendons and bones, it naturally becomes more effortless.

His current skill in deflecting force is no less than that of the Taiji Gate.

But Hei Dan clearly didn't think so.

If this were Taiji technique, how could he not recognize it?

"Who cares what style they use?!"

Before he could ask further, the blind old Daoist behind him snapped: "There are countless martial arts in the world—different names, but the principles are the same; it's all about using the opponent's force against them."

"Just fight your fight—why talk so much?!"

"Remember: the Five Elements appear tangible, yet their rise and fall, turning and flipping are yours to command; qi must follow the sword's path, eyes must track the blade; steps must follow the waist's motion, and when the waist moves, hands and feet become nimble…"

Li Yan's eyebrow twitched as he glanced at the blind Daoist.

What bullshit firewood-chopping sword art.

Did he really think Li Yan had never heard of the Emei Sword Art?

No wonder the boy's swordplay had seemed familiar earlier.

Swordplay emphasizes seizing the outer gate.

Emei sword footwork especially stresses diagonal stepping.

Body movement must twist, fold, inhale, and exhale, bow and lean.

The sword must flow like a swallow in flight, settle like wind halting.

He didn't know the specific name of the style, but its lineage was unmistakable—the characteristics were nearly identical, impossible to hide.

It was absolutely not firewood-chopping sword art!

This blind old Daoist was undoubtedly deeply connected to Emei.

But if he wished to teach his disciple in anonymity, he had his reasons; since he didn't want to speak, Li Yan had no desire to expose him.

"Yes, Master!"

Hei Dan, reminded, snapped back to focus.

He calmed his mind, formed a hand seal with his left hand, stood on one foot, held his sword in his right, sword tip aimed at Li Yan, his expression shifting.

He suddenly radiated a solemn, commanding aura.

Shhh!

Again he launched an offensive, closing the distance in three or four steps and thrusting his sword.

But this time, his swordplay was faster and sharper.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Li Yan swung his wooden staff, parrying left and right.

As before, he still used refined force, easily deflecting the blade to disrupt the boy's momentum.

But this time, the boy changed tactics.

His sword speed suddenly increased, combined with footwork and wrist flips, like a relentless downpour.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Swordlight flashed, wood chips flew.

Though Li Yan still deflected each strike easily, he could no longer disrupt the boy's technique; his wooden staff was nearly shaved bare.

"Good lad!"

Li Yan, far from alarmed, felt delight—he stepped back, drew his staff inward, and as the boy's rapid thrust came, suddenly pulled with his right hand, shifted his shoulder, and leaned forward.

Bam!

Hei Dan left his center exposed and was knocked backward by a shoulder strike, flipping midair to land, then stumbling back two steps.

"You…"

Hei Dan's face flushed red. "Why did you switch to fist techniques?!"

Li Yan swung his staff, smiling. "Fist techniques originated from weapons—why shouldn't the body itself be a weapon? No need to be bound by form."

"But you—what new sword style is that?"

Hei Dan licked his lips. "Pig-slaughtering Sword Art!"

Pfft~

Li Yan nearly burst out laughing.

The previous sword style, he could admit, he hadn't recognized.

But this one was famous.

It was the Qingcheng Sect's "Dragon-Tiger Sword of Yin and Yang!"

Legend says this sword art was created by the Heavenly Master Zhang Daoling.

Moreover, it is Qingcheng's "Mother Sword"—many other sword styles derive from it.

Qingcheng swordplay has another trait.

In initial training, it emphasizes speed, precision, attacking to stop attack, seizing the initiative and intercepting; but upon mastery, it overwhelms opponents with unmatched sword momentum, returning to simplicity, with minimal but profound changes.

This Hei Dan looked even younger than Li Yan, yet at such an age, he had already grasped its true essence—his talent was terrifyingly extraordinary.

And that blind old Daoist…

He was wrong—he must be a senior of the Qingcheng Sect.

"What are you laughing at?!"

Seeing Li Yan smile, Hei Dan thought he was mocking him, grew furious, stomped his feet alternately, and charged forward with his sword.

No wonder—it was a Daoist sword art; his footwork clearly evolved from the Gang Bu, stepping through the Nine Palaces.

But the boy, still young, had far to go in cultivation.

His sword pierced Yin and Yang, capturing the style's subtleties, yet lacked the sword momentum—no dragon or tiger's might.

Li Yan, now fully grasping the boy's roots, grew tired of playing along and began increasing the force in his staff.

Clang!

As Hei Dan's next strike missed, Li Yan stepped forward abruptly, altering the distance between them.

In weapon combat, distance is key.

Body movement and weapon length are decisive factors.

Beyond diligent practice, there is battlefield experience.

Often, life and death hang by a thread.

Li Yan's sudden shift in distance immediately broke the boy's rhythm; seizing the moment before he could react, Li Yan slammed his staff against the sword's hilt, avoiding the blade, twisting and lifting upward.

Clang!

Hei Dan's sword flew from his hand, and his body froze.

Li Yan's wooden staff now pressed against his throat.

"I lost."

The boy Hei Dan looked dejected.

Li Yan chuckled. "I'm only a few years older than you, and I've fought countless battles—my experience is naturally greater."

"With your talent, in a few years your swordplay will surpass mine!"

Saying this, he patted the boy's shoulder and turned away with Wu Ba.

He had originally intended to probe the blind Daoist's background.

But every time he glanced sideways, he saw the man's expressionless, disinterested demeanor—as if he cared nothing for any of this.

The blind Daoist's cultivation was beyond Li Yan's comprehension.

Curiosity might only bring humiliation.

"In five years, I'll come find you again!"

As if encouraged by Li Yan, the boy said earnestly.

"Hahaha, good!"

Li Yan laughed heartily, not looking back, waving his hand.

Only after they left did the boy Hei Dan pick up his sword.

"Master, how was it?"

He hurried over to the blind old Daoist, eager.

"Lost. What's the point of asking?"

The blind Daoist grumbled, "All that effort, not a single copper coin earned—what good is it?"

"That's not fair…"

The boy grinned. "Holding your own against Li Yan this long is enough. Didn't you hear him? I'm still young—in a few years, my swordplay will definitely surpass him!"

"Master, can I change my name now?"

"Hei Dan is such a bad name—so undignified…"

Bam!

Before he finished speaking, he got a blow to the head.

The blind Daoist glared in exasperation. "Look at you—so worthless. Don't you know a humble name helps you survive?"

"Change your name when you're no longer afraid of being killed."

"And that kid's playing you—he's using a knife technique; what good is your sword skill if it's better than his?"

"Huh?!" …………

"Young Master Li, thank you!"

As soon as they left the mountain path, Wu Kang, the head of the Changchun Society, hurried forward to thank him, his face filled with gratitude.

Li Yan shook his head slightly. "You're really here to see the martial arts, aren't you? I'm sorry, but if I used martial arts, I couldn't hold back—I can't afford to go wild."

"Forgive me for embarrassing Young Master Li."

Wu Kang looked uneasy, embarrassed.

Earlier, he'd been too focused on begging; now he realized how reckless he'd been.

"What's wrong with that?"

Li Yan blinked. "Everyone's curious. If there were a more powerful master fighting right now, I'd rush over to watch too."

Hearing this, Wu Kang said no more.

In truth, what he was more grateful for was that Li Yan had treated him as a fellow man of the rivers and lakes—by not refusing him in front of so many eyes.

In a single glance /

In the martial world, reputation sometimes matters more than heaven itself.

Just as he was about to descend the mountain, Li Yan suddenly turned his head and looked up the slope. "Didn't Lingquan Temple have an incident two days ago? Is it still open?"

"Of course it is."

Wu Kang nodded quickly. "The year-end temple fair is the main event—even with what happened at Lingquan Temple, they dare not shut down."

"I heard they hired many craftsmen to repair things overnight, held rituals by the lake to compensate the victims, and displayed the snake demon's head to the people—all to quell the impact."

"The temple on the mountain has remained open. You see few people on the path because they all came up early to burn incense."

"I see."

Li Yan nodded slightly. "Good. I'll go up and burn some incense myself—for safety."

Wu Kang hesitated, then said, "Young Master Li, go ahead. I still have to oversee the fair below—if anything happens, the Society won't be able to answer for it."

"Don't miss the puppet show later—I'll have someone wait for you down the mountain."

"Alright, Elder, you attend to your duties."

Li Yan smiled and nodded, then turned and climbed the mountain with Wu Ba.

They moved swiftly. Though Lingquan Mountain was somewhat high, it meant nothing to the two of them, and soon they reached the temple's outer gate.

Compared to Guangde Temple, Lingquan Temple's gate was much smaller, but more down-to-earth—its doors stood wide open, with pilgrims coming and going without end.

"Greetings, Young Master Li."

Li Yan had taken only two steps when a voice came from afar.

He turned to see the monk Hui Ming, whom he'd met at Guangde Temple—his left sleeve hung empty, his complexion much improved.

"Greetings, Master."

Li Yan nodded slightly. "How is Master Hui Ming recovering?"

"I'm fine now."

Hui Ming said, "Though my cultivation has stalled since the injury, at least I kept my life."

His expression was calm, as if he didn't care.

"Master, you have a noble heart."

Li Yan praised him, then asked casually, "Do you plan to stay here long-term, or will you leave after a while?"

This was just idle chatter.

Hui Ming came from Xixin Chan Temple in Changsha—same Buddhist sect, but of the Vinaya School, and a renowned temple; he wouldn't stay here long.

Sure enough, Hui Ming replied, "I'll leave soon, taking my fellow monks' ashes back to the temple for burial."

He then added directly, "Young Master Li, you're here to see where 'Lang Wu' stayed, aren't you? I know—Living Yin Officials can trace traces and receive tasks from the Netherworld."

At this, Li Yan's pupils contracted sharply.

"Young Master Li, don't misunderstand."

Hui Ming spoke softly, his expression calm. "One of my uncle-monks is a Living Yin Official—he cultivates the Six Paths Scripture. He's part of our sect's hidden strength."

So that's how it is…

Li Yan suddenly understood.

Though Living Yin Officials are usually chosen from outside orthodox Daoist sects, accidents do happen.

For instance, someone becomes a Living Yin Official, then joins a Daoist sect—after completing a few tasks and accumulating Thunder Edicts, they become one of the sect's secret weapons.

But only smaller sects dare do this.

Since the matter was out in the open, Li Yan no longer hid it. He nodded. "Yes, I'm looking—maybe I can learn his origins."

His detour to Lingquan Temple had been for this very purpose.

"I'll take you there, Young Master Li."

Hui Ming understood his concern—that Guangde Temple's Chan sect might misinterpret—and offered to guide him personally.

"Thank you, Master!" Li Yan bowed formally.

"No need."

Hui Ming nodded faintly and led the two inside the temple gate.

As soon as they entered, a massive stone beneath a willow caught Li Yan's eye—carved on it in huge characters: "Seven Springs."

"This was written by Dongpo Jushi."

Monk Hui Ming said, "This temple was built during the Sui Dynasty, originally named Shengfo Temple, renamed Zishengyuan in the Song, destroyed by war in the previous dynasty, and rebuilt under the Great Xuan, when it took the name Lingquan."

"Since the Sui, this temple has always been prosperous, drawing many literati. There's also a spring atop the mountain—Dongpo Jushi left a poem:"

"Spring Spring Spring, since ancient times, countless years, Jade axe cleaves heaven and earth's marrow, golden hook fishes out the old dragon's saliva…"

Though a Vinaya School disciple, Hui Ming spoke with grace and warmth, his words like a spring breeze.

Inside the temple, ancient pines and cypresses cast thick shade.

After offering incense casually, Hui Ming led them through a side gate to an old, dilapidated courtyard.

At the gate stood two monks, tall and muscular, like Vajrapani, holding wooden staves.

"This is Young Master Li."

Hui Ming introduced him. "Abbot Zhi Tong holds him in high regard. I'm bringing him to search for clues."

Though Hui Ming was a foreign monk, his role in slaying the snake demon and sustaining serious injury had earned him great respect in the temple.

The gate monks made no objection and let them pass.

Inside, the courtyard was piled with clutter—hoes, farming tools, jars, and bottles.

Several crude earthen houses stood nearby, a well in the yard, even a small vegetable patch.

No one would guess the Lord of the Worshiping Dragon Cult had hidden here.

Hui Ming shook his head. "That man entered Lingquan Temple long ago disguised as a destitute monk. Because he worked hard, he gradually took over the herb garden."

"From here, you can reach outside the temple directly—and beneath the house lies a secret tunnel leading straight down to the bamboo grove…"

But Li Yan wasn't listening.

As he neared the crumbling earthen house, his Gou Die suddenly grew hot.

His heart stirred—the scene around him changed instantly.

Still shrouded in mist, as if standing on a miniature landscape, ahead stood two enormous owl statues.

This time, however, there was no one—the large chair far ahead stood empty.

Li Yan paid no attention—he hurried past the owl statues.

As if triggering something, after he passed them, the chair's front blurred—and the familiar red-robed giant shadow reappeared.

These owl statues are indeed divine tools used by the Netherworld for communication!

Li Yan now confirmed it beyond doubt.

Unknown what the red-robed giant did, the mist ahead suddenly cleared, revealing a well of blue stone.

Definitely a Netherworld Offender!

Li Yan felt a surge of joy.

Netherworld Offenders were, for him, the most suitable targets.

After all, Thunder Edicts were his trump card to turn around any dire situation.

But just as he prepared to move closer, an unexpected change erupted.

Splash!

A golden light suddenly descended, hovering above the well.

The red-robed giant before the table fell silent for a moment, then spoke: "Gentlemen of the Thunder Department, this isn't how things are done…"

Thunder Department?!

Li Yan was stunned.

Could it be,

That this matter involved someone who descended to the mortal realm without permission?

(End of Chapter)