Chapter 592: Extra · The God of Wealth and the Beggar Ghost (Three)

Extra · The God of Wealth and the Beggar Ghost (Three)

Tu Shengyuan took two or three bites, finished the fruit in his hand, tossed the pit aside, wiped his fingers on a nearby tree trunk, and was so excited he could barely contain himself — Heaven be praised, the old man had spent a great deal of effort during this period just to sneak over here!

Damn it, he even thought it was bizarre!

First, when he was in the Central Plains, there was the matter of the Xue family's Emperor and Empress — fine. He fled to the shores of the East Sea and bumped into an Angler of Whales; he went to the Western Regions and ran into Li Zhao Wen. Fine, fine, fine — I can't afford to provoke you, can't I at least avoid you!

This time, I, this old man, crossed a thousand mountains and ten thousand waters, layer upon layer of peaks.

I — I'll hole up in the mountains!

Let's see what kind of trouble could possibly land on my head this time.

Tu Shengyuan flicked his sleeves, puffed up with pride: "If there really were such a thing, this old man would tear that gavel apart and eat it on the spot!"

"But how could that possibly happen?"

"The Emperor is far away at the ends of the earth, and this old man is here in the wilds of the Jianghu — how could I possibly be found? Hahahaha. Compared to the well-ordered world under heaven today, this land of the Jianghu suits this old man far better!"

Tu Shengyuan was full of ambition and high spirits.

In quite a fine mood, he climbed to the very peak of this mountain. Looking out from afar, the mountain ranges rose and fell in unbroken chains, lush and green. He could see, on those mountaintops and halfway up the slopes, the faint outlines of Jianghu sects, and the figures of young wandering knights moving through the mountains.

Young lads know not the taste of sorrow.

Nor do they know the passing of the Jianghu.

They know nothing of their elders' worries — they only laugh and chat.

The wind flew past the hems of the youths' robes; Tu Shengyuan's sideburns swayed. He smiled and said: "Let this old man, too, record this — the very last Jianghu of the sects."

"Afterward, there may still be a Jianghu."

"But it will no longer be a Jianghu of sects."

"To witness such a splendid sight, to see off this three-hundred-year Jianghu — what grandeur, what loneliness."

Tu Shengyuan laughed with carefree ease, leapt down from the mountain, and greeted those Jianghu youths. During this stretch of time he had been mixing with these wandering knights, talking of Wu Lin secret manuals, discussing the supreme martial arts of the four corners, recounting the grandeur of these three hundred years of Jianghu in a troubled age.

Mentioning beauties fair as jade, speaking of sword Qi like a rainbow.

What freedom, what grandeur.

But these good days had only lasted a few days when, suddenly, a piece of news spread like wildfire through these wild mountains and the Jianghu. By the time the news reached Tu Shengyuan's ears, the old man was drunk on a rock.

The mountain's monkey wine, though in purity it couldn't compare to the strong liquors of the market towns, was brewed from fruit, so it was sweet and mellow, smooth on the palate — it had its own merits.

Only, the liquor's kick was muddled and easily went to one's head.

In his half-dazed state he vaguely heard something about a martial-arts tournament for marriage, about heroes gathering, about some grand Jianghu event unseen for years. Up to this point, Tu Shengyuan had been languid and paid it little heed.

Until the young swordsman in a blue robe said: "I heard that the reason for such a huge commotion this time is a rumor that the Daoist temple newly built here — its Abbot, the True One — is that Number One Beauty Under Heaven!!"

"And he has a divine weapon in his hands."

"And what's more, the inherited secret manual of a top-tier sect from back then — the Yin-Yang Reincarnation Sect."

"That's what set the whole Jianghu in motion."

The drunken Tu Shengyuan felt something was off.

But, after all, this was mountain monkey wine — excellent to drink and well-aged — and he figured even the Thousand-Day Drunk brought by that fisherman wouldn't make him trade it away. So he burped, rolled over, smacked his lips, and went back to sleep.

Of course he didn't care — he had, after all, seen far and wide.

He had been present for the Master Jiankuang's heaven-shaking battle at the Academy, and for the Master Jiankuang's chase of the Longevity One across the Western Regions; he had even witnessed the rise and fall of Qin Huang, today's Number One martial myth. To tell the truth, most news from the Jianghu no longer interested him.

But this piece of news — this Yin-Yang Reincarnation Sect, Number One Beauty Under Heaven.

Why did it feel strangely familiar?

Tu Shengyuan lay on his side, dead drunk. On a level invisible to the naked eye, his Bai Ze Dharma Aspect spontaneously manifested itself, and on its face appeared a very human-like blank stare.

It looked at those youths, then looked at the drunken Tu Shengyuan.

Then it stretched out a hoof and kicked Tu Shengyuan's backside.

Tu Shengyuan was dead drunk, but these young men just setting out into the Jianghu were bursting with excitement.

Someone asked: "You're talking nonsense. That Daoist temple only teaches very ordinary Wu Gong, and even sends its disciples to the nearby town to learn characters and arithmetic at the government school there. It doesn't look like some top-tier great sect."

"Must be fake news!"

At this age, there are two things young men can least stand: one is their parents' lecturing, the other is being doubted by their peers. That youth's face flushed red, his voice clearly rising several notches, and he said:

"What — what fake news? This news couldn't be more real!"

"This is — this is!"

"The guest lecturer storyteller of that Number One Tower Under Heaven said it!"

The Bai Ze Dharma Aspect's eyes went wide. One hoof hoisted Tu Shengyuan up; the other hoof swung back and — bang, bang — two slaps across Tu Shengyuan's face, two Dharma-Aspect-level backhanders delivered straight on.

Shocks of air blasted out, layer upon layer of rippling gales.

This successfully let Tu Shengyuan hear that last sentence.

The next instant, the Grandmaster connected everything that had been said before.

What???

Then, every thought in his head seemed to freeze. Those Jianghu youths had been arguing endlessly over this rumor, red in the face, neither side giving way — when suddenly they heard a great shout.

From beside the rock, out of the tangle of weeds, an old man suddenly sprang forth.

Dead drunk, leaves still clinging to his body and face, his two eyes wide open, dumb as a wooden chicken. After several breaths passed, he suddenly let out a wail:

"Shit!!!!"

Tu Shengyuan was hopping mad:

"That good-for-nothing youngster is using this old man's name to stir up trouble here!"

"Why is it that I haven't said a word, and still there's a chamber pot being dumped on my head!"

Tu Shengyuan was innocent.

At least this time, it wasn't him who had spread the word.

But Tu Shengyuan had long roamed the jianghu; his tongue was sharp, yet every time he managed to turn misfortune into fortune, and that was precisely because he had self-awareness. Even now, comforting himself by saying that Li Guanyi at least wouldn't wish him ill, the rest of his thoughts kept telling him: no chance.

The young man assumed that the jianghu rumors they had just spoken had caused the old man to misunderstand, that the drunken old gentleman had taken their nonsense to heart, so he consoled him: "Old sir, what we were saying just now has nothing to do with you."

"It was something a storyteller from the Tianxia Diyi Lou Under Heaven said."

Tu Shengyuan said: "Nonsense!"

He wore a long face.

A storyteller from the Tianxia Diyi Lou Under Heaven with no filter on his mouth—who else could it be?!

This is what reputation means.

Even he, Tu Shengyuan, couldn't help wondering whether one day, drunk and without restraint, he had let slip the matter of Nangong Wumeng's seclusion among these mountains.

Or perhaps the notebook he had left behind at the Tianxia Diyi Lou Under Heaven when he departed had been picked up by some later disciple, who had come out to swindle and stir up trouble!

Damn it, why did I, for the sake of so-called style, for the sake of so-called reputation, leave behind that secret transmitted scroll?

My past self.

What on earth were you doing?!!!

Qin Huang's confidante, dragged into such a matter—Tu Shengyuan didn't dare imagine what would happen next. Surely there wouldn't be a cavalry trampling the jianghu, would there? The old man's scalp went numb, and he walked without pause toward the present location of the Yin-Yang Reincarnation Sect's dao venue.

The closer he got, the more genuine the jianghu rumors became.

Jianghu folk grew ever more numerous; several rather large jianghu sects had already gathered—young chivalrous heroes, bold and famous guests, all mixed together, swearing brotherhood. When jianghu folk gather, all sorts of schemes are bound to appear; no one knew which half-witted clever-clogs had proposed a martial-arts tournament to win a bride.

The talk went that since the chivalrous heroes of the jianghu had gathered, and the Abbey Master was also a jianghu person, why not follow the jianghu rules: whoever wins gets to carry the beauty home, and so on. Tu Shengyuan heard the news and felt sweat breaking out on his brow.

He seemed to see the Fire Qilin Army's banners gleaming behind these fellows' heads.

The dao abbey's great gate was tightly shut.

Nangong Wumeng couldn't be bothered to deal with this lot. In her younger days, wandering the jianghu, she had seen these jianghu rules before. Within the sects and the jianghu, there were indeed many bold and chivalrous heroes, but far more than the heroes were the petty schemers scrambling after petty gain.

The great gate stayed shut; let them do as they pleased.

A few fellows, relying on their decent lightness skill, planned to leap up. Over there, a woman lounging lazily on a reclining chair, letting several young Misses knead her shoulders and rub her back, fully enjoying the privileges of a master, casually flicked her fingers.

A stone on the ground flew up and landed between her fingers.

She flicked it with a snap of her fingers.

The shot was like a crossbow bolt fired from a heavy crossbow, knocking all those fellows to the ground—one must note that among them was even a lightness-skill expert of the Sixth Heaven, yet he was brought down so easily.

The man's face changed: "Grandmaster?!!"

Xie Ziran knew that her own teacher, on the very day she had found her, had fallen from a cliff, and somehow, inexplicably, had broken through to become a Grandmaster. When asked the reason, her teacher had only said: as long as you remember who you are, you will not lose your way.

If the way is not lost, breaking through the realm is very simple.

"It's like when your teacher points at the moon in the sky—if you only see my finger, you won't see the moon. But I have always known what it is I want, so why would I be lost?"

Xie Ziran felt that when her teacher said this, her teacher's eyes and brows were calm, like a beauty carved from Bai Yu, drawing one in unconsciously; so in truth she was a little unhappy inside.

Her own teacher—genius, beautiful, and earnestly lovable, with a soft, gentle smile.

What kind of person was that Qin Huang, to be able to occupy her teacher's heart and thoughts like this?

Outside was noisy and clamorous, as if those jianghu folk, unable to get in themselves, had started competing among themselves. It seemed yet another jianghu Grandmaster had arrived, intending to force the gate open. Nangong Wumeng lazily felt that, well, a fight would do.

Xie Ziran, however, was getting rather annoyed.

She picked up the broom, ran to the gate, and opened it indignantly, saying:

"My teacher is resting and won't see—"

Her eyes went wide.

There were many jianghu guests here; originally, from the mountaintop dao abbey all the way down to the foot of the mountain, every day they were noisy, brandishing blades and swords, enough to drive one to distraction, an unending clamor. Before she opened the gate, she had still been saying she would strike out and open it.

But when the gate was opened, she saw that the jianghu guests on the mountain above and below, including the three Grandmasters, were all prostrate on the ground.

From the mountaintop all the way to the foot of the mountain, it was the same.

A wooden sword lay quietly at the entrance of the dao abbey.

Below the abbey gate, a slender youth paced forward, sleeves billowing, fingers calmly extended in a sword gesture—and the weapons in the hands of the surrounding jianghu guests had already fallen all over the ground, the crisp sounds like the notes of a qin, like falling snow.

A hall of flowers intoxicates three thousand guests.

One sword's chill light spans nineteen provinces.

"The inheritor of Sword Mad Elder Murong Longtu."

"Of the Jiangnan Murong family—Li Guanyi."

"I have come to present my calling card."

The clear-voiced man walked up step by step, stood before the dao abbey gate, stood before Xie Ziran, raised his palm, let his five fingers hang down, and pressed them lightly upon that wooden sword. A clear, soaring sword-hums sounded, and sword-qi brimmed forth; an invisible, formless sword-qi dispersed, sweeping across the entire mountain range.

It startled all the birds upon the mountain into flight, and sent blossoms falling from a tree.

"A martial-arts tournament to win a bride."

?? Everyone, did you eat zongzi for the Dragon Boat Festival? ~