Chapter 1: Yu Liancheng

"Good spring scenery, not as good as a dream. The scent of green grass in the dream."

"Blue sky, white clouds, green mountains, clear waters, and a gentle breeze blowing against the setting sun."

A young man wearing tight-fitting black clothes, with an ancient sword in a black scabbard strapped to his back, lay diagonally across the horse's back.

The horse's back was not wide, and the small path was not flat, yet he remained perfectly steady, as if he could never fall off.

A year's plan starts in spring; a day's plan starts in the morning.

The spring sun had just risen, shining warmly upon him. In the distance, the spring mountains were as clear as if washed, and the breeze was mixed with the scent of unknown flowers.

The young man felt truly happy, like a bird that had flown out of a cage.

"Five years..."

A faint smile played at the corners of the young man's mouth.

At this moment, many things and many people appeared in his mind.

Five years ago, he was a struggling writer in another world.

One day, while cleaning his old home, he discovered an ancient stone gate in the storage room, carved with mysterious patterns.

The moment he touched the stone gate, a ball of white light flashed before his eyes, and he fainted.

When he regained consciousness, he had arrived in a world similar to ancient times, becoming the Young Cult Master of the "Rakshasa Cult."

After receiving the memories of the original body, he realized this was no simple ancient world.

For instance, his father was called Yu Luosha, who founded the Rakshasa Cult, possessed immense power, had unfathomable cultivation, and was extremely mysterious. Even in his son's memories, his impression was extremely vague, and he didn't even know what he looked like.

For instance, the three great protectors of the cult, known as the "Three Friends of Winter": Gusong, Kuzhu, and Cold Plum. It was said their martial arts cultivation had long reached the pinnacle of the world; falling leaves and flying flowers could all injure people.

Or for instance, in his memories, there were a few scattered names from the Central Plains: Lu Xiaofeng, Ximen Chuixue, Sikong Zhaixing, Mu Daoren... all said to be prominent figures in the Central Plains.

Various signs indicated that this was the world of "Lu Xiaofeng Legend."

Upon confirming his identity and the world he was in, he panicked.

If he remembered correctly, he was Yu Tianbao, the Rakshasa Cult's Young Cult Master who only lived in the dialogue of the original plot.

He did not want to become a pawn of Yu Luosha and die an unexplained death.

Furthermore, this was a world with martial arts.

When a man is young, who hasn't had dreams of riding a swift horse in light robes and wielding a sword across the world?

Learn martial arts!

He had to learn martial arts!

This was a world full of conspiracies and schemes, where everyone was a master of deception. But without high-level martial arts as support, even with peerless intelligence, it would be nothing but a castle in the air, in danger of collapsing at any time.

His identity was that of the Young Cult Master; the secret manuals that ordinary people treated as treasures were easily accessible to him. Even the cult's treasure, the "Great Brightness Canon," could be read at any time.

The only thing that worried him was that his original body's talent for martial arts was ordinary, and he was already quite old. Becoming a second-rate expert wasn't difficult, and becoming a first-rate expert was possible, but contending with top-tier experts, especially his cheap father "Yu Luosha," would be as difficult as ascending to heaven.

But perhaps due to the transmigration, the Young Cult Master, who originally had mediocre talent, suddenly became a once-in-a-century genius.

Not only did he have a photographic memory, but he also had an astonishing understanding of martial arts, easily able to cultivate a martial art to a realm others could hardly reach.

Even internal energy, which required long and arduous effort, progressed astonishingly, far exceeding his imagination.

Five years passed in a flash, though he had almost never revealed his true skills in front of outsiders.

He had seen the sword techniques of the "Three Friends of Winter," and there were only three flaws.

But for a true expert, even one flaw was enough to be fatal.

Yet he did not have the certainty of victory.

His combat experience was too little.

And the "Three Friends of Winter" were truly battle-hardened; no matter the situation, they had the possibility of turning defeat into victory.

He needed real combat.

Only in life-and-death struggles could he make further progress.

A few days ago, Yu Luosha went into seclusion; this was a life-and-death seclusion that happened once every three years. Unless it was a matter of the sect's destruction, it could not be disturbed.

His opportunity had arrived.

He left the area outside the pass, left the territory of the Rakshasa Cult.

After all, the Rakshasa Cult's power was entrenched outside the pass, growing stronger by the day. For the Rakshasa Cult to deal with someone was no harder than crushing an ant.

After all, he was only a pawn of Yu Luosha, not his biological son. And Yu Luosha's true son had been handed over to his most trusted person to be raised on the seventh day after birth.

Once Yu Luosha discovered his true martial arts cultivation, he might stifle the danger in the cradle at any time.

And as long as he entered the Central Plains, the world would be vast for him to roam.

Even if Yu Luosha went to the Central Plains in person, without the help of the Rakshasa Cult, dealing with him would not be easy.

"Since I have left the Rakshasa Cult, I am no longer the Young Cult Master, and I should change my name; after all, this name always makes people think of a certain 'angel baby'."

"From now on, I am no longer Yu Tianbao."

"But, what name should I choose?"

He squinted his eyes, basking in the warm sun, feeling light, as if he had already flown up, flown to the clouds, flown to the prosperous Central Plains.

A month and a half later.

Central Plains.

Zhu Ting was not a merchant, nor was he a shopkeeper. But he knew how to enjoy life, and he was open-minded about everything, so he gained weight quickly, looking like a very blessed boss.

Coupled with his pair of magical hands—hands that could make wood walk, make iron birds soar, and make all impossibilities possible—he was known as the "Master of Ingenious Hands."

Because of these nimble hands, many people had sought out Zhu Ting, asking him to help craft all sorts of strange and bizarre things.

On this day, with the evening breeze soft, Zhu Ting was lying on a soft armchair basking in the sun when someone came calling again.

The visitor was a young man in black. The setting sun was like blood, a touch of red light shining on his handsome face, carrying a faint smile, his eyes as clear as a lake under the autumn moon.

Zhu Ting's eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, "I wonder what brings you here?"

His martial arts were not high, but he had seen many people. With just one glance, he knew that the young man before him was definitely an expert, a top-tier expert.

The young man in black said, "Weapons, I've come looking for weapons."

Zhu Ting fixed his gaze on the long sword in the black-clad young man's hand, seemingly puzzled: with a sharp sword in hand, why seek more weapons?

A dragon's roar sounded, and sword light flashed.

As the young man drew his sword from its scabbard, Zhu Ting quickly understood the reason.

This was originally a good sword; both the material it was forged from and the craftsmanship it contained were proof of that. But now, it had a crack, and the sword light was dim.

Zhu Ting asked, "What kind of weapon do you need? Still a sword?"

The young man in black replied, "Correct."

Zhu Ting asked, "Any requirements?"

The young man in black pondered for a moment: "Hard, sharp, heavy."

Heavy... Zhu Ting secretly wondered. He understood the first two requirements, but swords were meant to be light; the third point was somewhat unexpected.

"Let's go, come with me to the warehouse and take a look; perhaps there's one suitable for you. By the way, may I ask your honorable name, friend?"

The young man in black followed behind Zhu Ting and said indifferently, "Yu Liancheng."

Zhu Ting's figure shook: "So it is the 'Jade-Faced Divine Sword' Yu Liancheng in person; Zhu Ting was blind."

... ===== CHAPTER 2 =====