Chapter 104: One Scroll Calms the Hall

Li Hao frowned slightly.

He remembered telling Xue'er that she didn’t need to ask her master to come down the mountain to support him.

It was meaningless.

After eight years away, Jian Wudao stepped once more into this courtyard.

Upon entering Shanhe Courtyard, he immediately saw the boy lying in a rocking chair, basking in the sun, utterly at ease.

He had assumed such a boy would be constantly cultivating, yet here he was, so leisurely.

But perhaps, with a great battle looming, this final relaxation was only natural.

Behind Jian Wudao followed four figures—his disciples, three men and one woman, the highest among them long having entered the Three Imperishable realm.

All four studied Li Hao, their eyes filled with surprise and curiosity.

“Hao-gege.”

Bian Ruxue ran over, smiling brightly, and said: “I’ve asked my master to come down the mountain.”

He had disturbed his rest, but faced with the girl’s kindness, Li Hao could not scold her; he rose, tossed the poetry book aside, and watched the Sword Saint approach, finally sighing inwardly.

He was the one who took away the little tail, yet he himself was the one who let it go.

And it was the little tail herself who truly severed ties with him.

So, who could he blame? Li Hao blamed no one, for he had already retracted those few extra steps he had taken.

Thus, after a quiet sigh, Li Hao set aside his scattered thoughts and smiled, clasping his hands: “Sword Saint, long time no see.”

“Hmm?”

Jian Wudao blinked in surprise. “You remember me?”

“Sword Elder’s demeanor is otherworldly—how could I forget?” Li Hao smiled.

Jian Wudao raised an eyebrow slightly, expecting this prodigy to be arrogant and bold, or perhaps gloomy and reclusive from relentless cultivation.

Yet he appeared like a wind with no joy or sorrow, radiating a wild, unbound ease.

“Xing Wu Hou has raised a fine son. The Li family will soar once more across three generations.”

Jian Wudao spoke calmly.

Li Hao smiled; the formalities were over.

Jian Wudao’s gaze fell upon the girl dressed as a maid, who held a black sword case.

As he had said years ago, a true sword devotee, among ten thousand weapons, could spot the sword at a glance.

Upon entering Shanhe Courtyard, he had naturally seen the black sword case first, then turned his attention to the boy.

Seeing the case, a faint glimmer appeared in his eyes. “Is this Yongye?”

“Has Sword Elder seen it before?”

“It once blazed briefly—then fell silent.”

Jian Wudao’s gaze was calm. “It barely deserves the name. Yongye should forever shroud the heavens, making all under heaven know it!”

“Is Sword Elder blaming my ninth uncle?” Li Hao said coolly.

Jian Wudao indeed felt that way. Though he knew he shouldn’t voice it, his reverence for the sword had made him deeply dissatisfied when he learned the blade had been buried and sealed away.

He had once come to the mansion demanding it, willing to trade other promises for it.

But that old lady had thrown him out.

Yet today, he had merely spoken in passing. Years had passed; bringing it up again was pointless, especially to a junior.

“My ninth uncle took up this sword and entered the world—within three years, he turned it from an obscure weapon into a famed blade. How could he be ashamed?”

Li Hao said coolly: “Besides, if my ninth uncle were still alive, all under heaven would know this sword. Of course, if Sword Saint were willing to fight enemies and demons beyond the borders for my ninth uncle, instead of just sitting in that sword pavilion, this blade would now be the number one sword under heaven.”

Hearing the sarcasm in Li Hao’s words, Jian Wudao’s expression darkened slightly.

The four behind him froze, then their faces changed; the lead middle-aged man growled:

“Young Master Li, apologize to my master!”

Li Hao merely glanced at him, chuckled softly, and said nothing.

This was Shanhe Courtyard, not the Sword Pavilion.

Bian Ruxue had not expected her master and Li Hao to clash so soon after meeting; stunned, she grew tense and anxious.

Jian Wudao stared at Li Hao, his gaze growing colder. “Li Jiulang was indeed a prodigy. Now that he has passed the sword to you, are you worthy of it?”

“This sword was forged by the Li family from rare metals gathered from across the world. Whether I am worthy or not is none of your concern,” Li Hao smiled.

"This sword was forged by my Li family from rare metals gathered from across the land; whether it's worthy or not is none of your business." Li Hao smiled.

Bian Ruxue couldn’t help but call out.

Li Hao looked at her, seeing her caught helplessly between them; his smile faded slightly.

Years ago, in this courtyard, at nearly this very spot—

That little girl had stood by his side without hesitation, defending him at every turn.

When they said they would take her away, she had cried, saying she no longer loved swords, that she would never practice again…

Those days were gone forever.

Like the autumn leaves scattered across the courtyard, once fallen, they could never return to the branches.

Even if spring winds returned next year, what sprouted would be new buds…

At that moment, several figures hurried from the inner courtyard—Li Tiangang, followed by Yu Xuan and Li Fu on either side.

At that moment, several figures hurried from the inner courtyard—Li Tiangang, with Yu Xuan and Li Fu flanking him on either side.

Li Tiangang spotted Jian Wudao from afar and called out, then stepped forward, bowing slightly: “I never expected you to come to support my son. I am honored.”

Jian Wudao was a powerhouse from his father’s generation; as a child, he had visited their home to spar with his father.

Though his father’s overall combat strength could defeat Jian Wudao, he was not a specialist in sword arts, and thus lost repeatedly in sword duels.

“No need to support me,” Jian Wudao said coolly. “I came only for Xue’er’s sake, to watch the spectacle and share a drink. I wonder if the Divine General’s Mansion welcomes me.”

“Of course we welcome you.”

Li Tiangang was taken aback, sensing a barb in Jian Wudao’s words. He glanced at Li Hao beside him and immediately understood—it was Li Hao’s careless demeanor, his poor hospitality.

He smiled warmly: “Sword Elder, please follow me to the inner courtyard. This child, Xue’er, is gifted. To become your disciple is truly her fortune.”

Seeing this veteran general, who had commanded troops for decades, so courteous, Jian Wudao’s face softened slightly. He followed him into the courtyard, ignoring Li Hao beside him—after all, the generational gap was too great to bother with a junior.

Jian Wudao’s disciples also realized arguing with Li Hao was pointless.

They had come to offer goodwill; turning it into a quarrel would be foolish.

Yet they harbored growing displeasure toward this youth famed across Qingzhou.

Once they had left, Bian Ruxue stood beside Li Hao, hesitating. “Hao-gege, are you angry?”

Li Hao sat back down in his chair and smiled. “No, nothing to be angry about.”

Bian Ruxue said: “My master takes swords very seriously. Sometimes his words are harsh—please don’t take them to heart.”

Li Hao smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry.”

Bian Ruxue studied him for a moment, seeing he truly wasn’t upset, and sighed in relief. “I heard Li Qianfeng invited Bodhisattvas from Wuliang Mountain to support him, so I asked my master to come.”

“You’ve gone to too much trouble.”

Li Hao understood her intent and smiled. “Go keep your master company—he’s unfamiliar here. I’ll keep basking in the sun.”

“Alright.”

Li Hao understood her kindness and smiled: "Go keep your master company—he’s in unfamiliar territory. I’ll soak up the sun a little longer."

After she left, Li Hao reopened his poetry book and laid it over his face, continuing to soak in the sun.

Beside him, Ren Qianqian held the sword case, glancing repeatedly toward the inner courtyard.

Just now, her heart had been in her throat—Sword Saint’s aura was overwhelming, making her tremble.

This was the world-famous Sword Saint! Yet this boy faced him calmly, showing no fear. She had feared he might fly into a rage and punish Li Hao.

But Ren Qianqian’s fears were needless. Within the Divine General’s Mansion, no matter what Li Hao had done, Jian Wudao—even with his fiery temper—could never strike. To do so would not merely strike Li Hao, but the entire mansion’s honor.

Meanwhile, while Shanhe Courtyard remained cold and empty, Shuihua Courtyard was bustling with noise.

Guests filled every corner; the inner courtyard was packed, the outer courtyard swarmed with people.

Maids and retainers bustled through the courtyard, rushing to serve.

The hall was packed with guests; the inner courtyard was full to bursting, and even the outer courtyard teemed with crowds.

Maids and retainers bustled through the courtyard, rushing about to serve.

In Tan Gong Academy.

Many disciples in Bai Hall wished to descend the mountain to the Divine General’s Mansion to support Li Hao and witness how the Li family’s true dragon would choose.

But Song Yufeng issued a written ban to stop them.

Instructor Sun Hongdian, well-versed in human relations, patiently explained the reason to the students.

There were two reasons.

First, Li Hao’s talent guaranteed him the True Dragon title—he needed no one’s support.

Second, Tan Gong Academy had no need to add flowers to silk and invite trouble.

One student immediately cried out: “But Zhou Zheng went!” Sun Hongdian snapped back: “He went with his father—he’s a former subordinate of Xing Wu Hou. Is yours?”

The student fell silent—he knew his father was not.

One of the disciples below the hall immediately cried out: "But Zhou Zheng went!" Sun Hongdian snapped back irritably: "He went with his father—he’s a former subordinate of Xing Wu Hou. What’s your father?"

Two figures stood there, gazing toward the distant valley below, faintly sensing the bustle and the gathering of powerful auras.

By the frozen pond’s sheer cliff.

Two figures stood there, gazing toward the distant lands below the mountain, faintly sensing the bustle there and the many powerful energies gathered.

“That boy drew so many pictures for you—aren’t you going to go see them?”

Song Yufeng stood with his hands behind his back, smiling at Song Qiumo beside him.

Song Qiumo glanced at him: “If I go, aren’t you afraid I’ll bring the Tan Palace inside?”

“Of course I’m not afraid.”

Song Yufeng smiled. “The Li family isn’t unreasonable. Besides, that child will surely claim the True Dragon—why fear standing by him?”

Song Qiumo sniffed. “If you weren’t afraid, why come to see me?”

“That kid hasn’t come up the mountain in days. I saw you standing here every day waiting—I feared you’d be bored,” Song Yufeng chuckled.

Song Qiumo rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting for him to bring me little sesame cakes.”

“I never said what you were waiting for.”

Song Yufeng smiled. “Besides, you could go down the mountain and buy them yourself.”

Song Qiumo snapped back: “I promised your ancestor I’d stay here.”

“Why bind yourself for life over a single promise?”

Song Yufeng sighed. “Besides, you’ve guarded this place for nearly a thousand years. Our Song family is eternally grateful.”

Song Qiumo fell silent.

After a moment, she said: “By the way, he’s also your Tan Palace’s instructor—why don’t you go?”

Song Yufeng laughed, hands behind his back, and said:

“I prefer to offer charcoal in the snow, not silk flowers on brocade.”

…

…

In the Shanhe Academy, besides the Sword Saint and others, more people gradually arrived.

Most were those Li Tiangang had visited recently, all coming to the academy to support Li Hao.

The inner courtyard was packed with guests. Li Tiangang sat in the main hall, chatting and entertaining them, occasional bursts of laughter from middle-aged men echoing through.

The younger ones, few in number, remained in the inner courtyard, stealing glances at the young master sunbathing in the front courtyard—curious, yet too afraid to approach.

Fourteen years old, at the Fifteen Li Realm—this title was too dazzling, too intimidating.

“Master Li.”

A figure appeared beside Li Hao. Li Hao lowered his poetry anthology and saw a familiar face.

Alone with Li Hao, Zhou Zheng looked slightly tense, especially remembering that day’s hundred poems in the brothel—he admired and revered this peer.

“Why are you here?”

Li Hao was slightly surprised, glancing behind the boy—no other students followed. Only then did he relax.

Given the Tan Palace’s status, there was no need to meddle. After all, Tan Palace students were scattered across the land; tying too closely to the Divine General’s Mansion might not be wise.

A relationship neither too close nor too distant was best—long-lasting, hard to destroy.

“I came with my father,” Zhou Zheng said respectfully.

Li Hao understood, nodded, and told him to sit, to relax.

They casually discussed poetry. Many who saw Zhou Zheng speaking with Li Hao were startled, quietly memorizing the boy’s face to avoid offending him later.

When noon arrived,

Li Tiangang led all the guests, had Yu Xuan call Li Hao over, and the father-son pair walked ahead, accompanied by the Sword Saint and the rest of the guests, heading toward Chen Hefang’s courtyard.

It was already packed, overflowing with people.

Liu Yuerong and others had arrived early; guests come to support Li Qianfeng were already seated.

According to rank, status, and cultivation, half the inner and outer courtyards were filled.

As Li Tiangang and the others arrived, the noise in the courtyard quieted slightly, all eyes turning toward them.

When they saw Sword Wu Dao beside Li Tiangang, many faces changed, low exclamations rising.

Few expected Li Tiangang could persuade this Sword Saint elder to come and back his son.

He was a top-tier expert of the Four Standing Realm, rumored to be indifferent to fame and fortune, forever seated in his Sword Hut—yet he’d been brought down the mountain.

Still, some who learned Li Hao’s fiancée was the Sword Saint’s disciple found this unsurprising.

After entering the inner courtyard, under the steward’s careful arrangement—based on official rank, martial status, and cultivation level—guests were seated with meticulous precision, a massive task requiring flawless execution.

After all, nearly everyone present placed extreme importance on “prestige.”

Sword Wu Dao and his disciples naturally entered the inner courtyard.

With their arrival, the chatter among Liu Yuerong’s guests dimmed considerably, glances turning wary.

The four disciples beside Sword Wu Dao wore faint smirks of pride, their eyes sweeping toward the young Li heir.

Remembering his earlier insolence, they sneered inwardly.

Look—this is the prestige my master brings you! “Sword Saint, long time no see.”

Several figures approached, the central one a Bodhisattva from Wuliang Mountain.

The Bodhisattva had a pale, clean face, middle-aged, clad in a pure white kasaya, hair black as ink jade, smiling.

Sword Wu Dao’s gaze sharpened slightly—Wuliang Mountain’s Bodhisattva was an extremely dangerous figure.

“Didn’t expect to meet you here, Sword Wu Dao.”

Beside him stood another middle-aged man, dressed in lavish robes, his gaze haughty.

Sword Wu Dao replied coolly: “Our sword-versus-knife contest remains unresolved—let’s try again when the chance arises.”

The man was a Northern Sword Saint who had once sparred with him, but without result.

“First time meeting you. Long heard of the Sword Saint’s name—ha ha…” another elder chuckled.

He was short, dressed in a green robe, his beard hanging to his belly.

Sword Wu Dao remained calm: “Why aren’t you in the Demon Suppression Bureau, suppressing demons?”

“Just here for a drink—no trouble,” the elder laughed.

Guests at other tables held their breath.

Top-tier figures—four Standing Realm experts—four of them gathered here at once.

Even Sword Wu Dao’s disciples paled slightly. They’d assumed their master’s presence alone would balance the scales—yet the other side had summoned three.

After brief exchanges, all returned to their seats.

Sword Wu Dao’s expression turned icy. He glanced at Li Tiangang. “If you’d only invited me, I fear I couldn’t hold this gathering.”

Li Tiangang smiled faintly—he’d expected this. “Another elder is on the way.”

“Who?”

“The Master of Tianjian Mountain.”

Sword Wu Dao’s eyes flickered. “Ah, that fellow. Haven’t seen him in ages.”

Li Tiangang sighed inwardly. Even if that one arrived, he’d still be slightly inferior—but at least the gap wouldn’t be vast.

He glanced at his son, Li Hao, who wore an utterly indifferent expression. He felt helpless: the Sword Saint was brought by Xue’er; the Master of Tianjian Mountain was his own doing. His son, though high in cultivation, had no connections at all.

As Li Tiangang sighed, a voice suddenly echoed into the inner courtyard: “Report—Wuliang Mountain’s Arhat arrives!”

Immediately, a middle-aged man in a kasaya entered, smiling. Seeing the Bodhisattva seated among honored guests, he immediately bowed and uttered a Buddhist chant.

Then he scanned Li Tiangang’s side—seeing only a single table of inner courtyard guests—he seemed slightly surprised, then stood in the center and declared: “I’ve been sent to deliver this: Where is the Qiankun Golden Warrior?”

Li Qianfeng, startled, stepped forward. “Li Qianfeng here. Greetings, Arhat.”

“The Wuliang Buddha has sent this string of prayer beads for the Qiankun Golden Warrior,” the Arhat smiled.

He knew Li Qianfeng well—this loud announcement was purely to amplify his prestige.

Indeed, upon hearing this, every guest in the courtyard froze, stunned.

The Buddha seated atop Wuliang Mountain had also come to support him? Sword Wu Dao and Li Tiangang’s expressions darkened slightly.

With the Buddha’s backing, even the Master of Tianjian Mountain’s arrival would be useless.

“Had I known this, Xue’er wouldn’t have gone to such trouble.”

Sword Wu Dao shook his head, his face now calm. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have come down the mountain.”

Li Tiangang’s body trembled slightly. He sighed. Indeed, he couldn’t match this—but connections weren’t decisive.

“Thank you, Master.”

Li Qianfeng accepted the prayer beads from the Arhat’s hands before all, bowing respectfully.

The Arhat smiled, about to speak—when another voice rang out behind: “Report!!”

“Imperial Edict from the Yu Emperor! Summon Li family’s son, Li Hao, to receive the decree!!”

Instantly, the entire courtyard fell silent, not a sound.

(End of Chapter)