Chapter 168: The Sword of the Dahe Descends from Heaven

Brother Qian Chen glanced at the long sword in Cen Can's hand—it was merely an ordinary weapon, far inferior to his own divine blade, Youqing. He made no move to remove Youqing from its white sharkskin scabbard, instead keeping it sheathed: "My sword is a divine weapon; to fight with it would be unfair. We're merely testing sword techniques, not fighting to the death. Let's duel with our swords still in their scabbards."

Cen Can growled, "Whose sword isn't a divine weapon? This blade of mine was gifted to me by General Gao—it's a fine weapon forged in Xiping."

"I've used it to slay dozens of Turkic warriors and three sorcerers."

Brother Qian Chen fell silent. He couldn't very well say, "Your blade's good, but it's still just ordinary iron." Instead, he slightly lifted his scabbard, channeling true qi into Youqing, causing a faint sword qi to rise within it—rising a hundred zhang high, slicing cleanly through the white clouds above his head.

Cen Can saw the cloud severed by the sword qi, slowly lowered his head, and said nothing more.

Yet his inner frustration was indescribable. Pei Min's swordplay was astonishing, but he himself was by no means without skill. Back then, he'd underestimated the man—heard he'd never served in the army yet called himself a general, and had already dismissed him by a third. Who knew that when he finally moved, his sword art was divine, and before Cen Can could react, he'd already lost.

Among masters, victory hangs by a thread. Cen Can knew he'd lost due to underestimation, and though defeated, he still chafed at the outcome, still eager to challenge. But this disciple of Pei Min hadn't even drawn his sword—merely by the sharpness of his divine weapon, he'd rendered Cen Can helpless.

It was truly… maddening.

Cen Can sheathed his sword, channeling sword qi so fiercely that the cold gleam nearly pierced through the scabbard. Even though the blade remained sheathed, that sword qi was nearly indistinguishable from the real thing—this alone revealed his profound sword cultivation.

Brother Qian Chen couldn't help but sigh inwardly: "He was definitely underestimating Seeing Yan Shu. Had Seeing Yan Shu not held back his signature sword pellet, still locked in its case, he wouldn't have lost within a few rounds."

Of course, if Seeing Yan Shu couldn't defeat him in a few rounds, within dozens he'd have a fifty-fifty chance of a swift victory; after two hundred rounds, Cen Can would almost certainly collapse—there was no way he could withstand Seeing Yan Shu for more than three hundred rounds.

Given the speed of their swordplay, that was merely a few breaths.

Before entering the mission world, Seeing Yan Shu had jokingly told Brother Qian Chen his hand-to-hand sword skills were mediocre—but that was when Brother Qian Chen wielded dual blades against the Supreme Heavenly Demon. Compared to the knife techniques he'd gained from the Heavenly Demon's Blood-Transformation Knife and Great Liberation Demon Knife, Brother Qian Chen's hand-to-hand sword art was far inferior. Yet his mastery of sword light—his sword-riding technique—was the fastest advancement Seeing Yan Shu had ever witnessed.

That single sword strike that severed the blood demon had already matched Seeing Yan Shu's skill.

But if Seeing Yan Shu saw him now, he'd never again say Brother Qian Chen's hand-to-hand sword skills were mediocre.

After obtaining the Hunyuan Sword Scripture, Brother Qian Chen had pondered the yin-yang transformations and the odd-even momentum of swordplay. With his astonishing insight, his sword art was no longer the dull, unremarkable thing it once was—it was now nothing short of exquisite!

Cen Can struck first, his sword qi like snow swirling across a barbarian sky—vast, boundless.

The sharp, deadly sword qi filled the space between them, each blade of qi as potent as a slightly inferior flying sword, and in his hands, it had reached its very essence.

For this sword art was a unified whole—this was what it meant to enter the realm of sword transcendence.

Though the blade remained sheathed, Brother Qian Chen could already see the icy white light. This boundless sword qi had merged into one entity—like a blizzard, where individual snowflakes seemed separate, yet within it, one realized they were fused by freezing cold. One might evade most flakes, but one could never escape the chill that froze all things.

The sword momentum was vast as a northern wind sweeping the earth, snapping all white grass… the transformation of the sword light could only be described by one line: "Suddenly, as if overnight, spring wind came, and thousands of trees bloomed with pear blossoms."

The sword intent running through it was: "Scattered into pearl curtains, dampening silk curtains; fox fur cannot warm, brocade quilts grow thin."

Hss…

A soft wind pierced the air. Brother Qian Chen's long sword thrust forward—he stepped forward with his right foot, his body soaring like a celestial immortal, suddenly slicing through Cen Can's snowstorm of sword qi without brushing a single snowflake. His Youqing sword became a streak of light, striking upward…

"Have you not seen? The waters of the Yellow River descend from heaven, rushing to the sea, never to return."

"Have you not seen? Before the bright mirror in the high hall, one grieves white hair—morning's black silk, evening's snow."

The sword momentum surged like the Yellow River's waters, pouring forth as if truly falling from heaven, leaving no trace—its rise and fall beyond the heavens, descending with the river's torrent, cascading a thousand li eastward to the sea. Such a magnificent spectacle could not be fully grasped by the eye—but it was all contained within this single sword strike.

Cen Can saw only the first half of the sword technique, and his spirit was already seized.

In this sword art, he glimpsed something profoundly similar to his own—the poetic soul woven through the sword intent. Brother Qian Chen said nothing, yet Cen Can felt as if someone whispered softly beside him: "Have you not seen? The waters of the great river descend from heaven…"

Layer upon layer of sword qi was shattered by this sword like the great river's waters.

The next instant, the sword light reversed. Time froze in that moment—as if compressing the passage from youth to age, from black hair to white, into a single instant. The sword light had seemingly pierced through time and space, moving faster than thought.

"... Morning's black silk, evening's snow!"

Cen Can's sword light was completely shattered; the sword qi from their clash silenced the entire Banzheng Alley. As the two sword lights collided, their transformations reached their zenith. Though Cen Can was slightly weaker, his momentum still engulfed the whole alley—when the snowlike sword intent was shattered by the great river, the scattered sword light sent a chill through the scabbards of every scholar in the alley who possessed even the slightest cultivation.

Nearby, an old monk from Longxing Temple lifted his head.

The kind, gentle expression he once wore was gone, replaced by the piercing sting of sword intent. His calm demeanor shattered, his pupils contracted, his eyes narrowed painfully—so intense was the brilliance and sharpness of their sword light that even before he saw it, he felt as if thorns pricked his back.

"Amitabha… When did such sword art come to Chang'an? One of them is surely a Sword Immortal!"

Brother Qian Chen's sword momentum touched and withdrew…

As Cen Can sheathed his sword, his hands trembled imperceptibly. He suppressed the vibration in his blade and whispered, "Why didn't you continue?"

Brother Qian Chen sheathed his sword and smiled: "Didn't you just want to test my sword art? You've tested it—why stir up unnecessary conflict?"

Cen Can studied him deeply, then said: "If all disciples who learned from General Pei possess such sword art, then I've lost fairly." His words carried the weight of surrender.

Cen Can sighed at last: "Too bad… I didn't hear the whole poem." Their sword arts shared the same romantic elegance, and thus, a mutual admiration stirred between them.

At that moment, Seeing Yan Shu's laughter rang out from the Princess Yuzhen Pavilion: "Such free, bold, stirring sword qi—this must be Brother Taibai!"

Cen Can did not wish to meet him. He bowed slightly to Brother Qian Chen and took his leave, murmuring the two lines of poetry under his breath, sighing for the unfulfilled emotion…

The gates of Princess Yuzhen Pavilion opened, and Seeing Yan Shu, his beard thick and wild, stepped out laughing, clapping Brother Qian Chen on the shoulder: "You finally arrived!"

"Come in. I'll introduce you to Princess Princess Yuzhen!"

Saying this, he seized Brother Qian Chen's hand and pulled him into the pavilion.

Inside, the quiet surroundings and the serving maids were already accustomed to men like Brother Qian Chen who arrived uninvited. Their glances told him all he needed to know—he smirked inwardly. Si Si Qingguo's reputation had indeed suffered. This Princess Princess Yuzhen, burdened with karmic ties, was a classic Tang princess-turned-female-Daoist.

Tang princesses were already lawless enough—but a princess who became a female Daoist?

She was utterly unrestrained…

Had it not been for the current Xiao Xie Xuan Emperor, and the lingering shadow of Empress Wu Zetian's oppression over Princess Princess Yuzhen and other favored ones, the arrogance of early Tang princesses like Princess Wei Taiping might have birthed even wilder dispositions.

Seeing Yan Shu grew serious: "Taibai, I now go by Pei Min. Sister Si's Dao name is Princess Yuzhen. Sister Ning has taken the name you gave her—Lady Gongsun Dama."

Brother Qian Chen nodded slightly: "Understood. General Pei… from now on, we'll address each other by these names."

Seeing Yan Shu frowned: "You have no idea how much trouble this 'General' title has caused me! If you hadn't come, I feared I'd become a real general! Did you know the Xiao Xie Xuan Emperor asked about me before Princess Princess Yuzhen yesterday, joking that he'd grant me a miscellaneous title as a Jin Wu Guard general—and asked if my sword art was truly that good!"

"General Pei's name is known throughout Chang'an!" Brother Qian Chen teased. "And that Western Kunlun wine you poured for me—truly a liquor no one in this world would dare dream of!"

He stressed the phrase "this world's people" with four heavy syllables. Seeing Yan Shu burst into laughter, shaking his head: "There's a fine drinking culture here, but the wine's too bland—perfect for you, far too weak for me."

After a few jests, Seeing Yan Shu grew serious again: "Over the past two days, I've probed the individuals hinted at by the Wheel of Reincarnation's warning. An and Shi are still outside the city, arriving tomorrow—ignore them for now. As for Gao Wang Xianzhi, yesterday I found an excuse to challenge one of his subordinates, a certain Feng Feng Changqing… Do you know what I discovered?"

Brother Qian Chen paused, then looked up: "If it were anything else, you wouldn't be this serious."

"Is he a demonic cultivator?"

"Precisely. And a legitimate blood-sea heir!"

"Gao Wang Xianzhi himself must be a demonic cultivator too—Ge Shu Han Dama has already tested him! He's almost certainly a demonic cultivator as well… All four frontier generals are demons. This time, it's the Four Demon Generals who will throw Chang'an into chaos!" Seeing Yan Shu said gravely.

Brother Qian Chen shook his head: "Don't jump to conclusions…"

He suspected two of them were decoys, but dared not be certain. This Tang dynasty was both familiar and alien—and even in his past life, who could truly know loyalty or treachery until the moment of truth? So he urged Seeing Yan Shu to avoid hasty judgments, to probe more carefully.

"What do you think, Taibai?" Seeing Yan Shu asked Brother Qian Chen. Among them, he always felt this younger brother Brother Qian possessed the highest intellect and deepest calculations—far beyond his own simple nature.

Brother Qian Chen mused: "Whoever seeks to disrupt Chang'an needs underlings. We should start from the bottom."

"Find the hidden demons within Chang'an!"

Seeing Yan Shu frowned: "Chang'an is truly the Divine Capital. Its customs are more open than your Great Jin's, and no overseas realm matches its grandeur. It absorbs all rivers into one sea—but also swallows demons and ghosts, mixes pearls with fish eyes, mud with sand. How many temples? How many spirits? I can't even count them—and many of these spirits, in my view, are no different from demons!"

"To find clues here… is incredibly difficult."