Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Dongyi
The miserable yellow grass hut beneath the hill outside the city was just as quiet as before. There was no sword light, no sword wind, and no sound of a blade cutting through the air. There was only silence. It was now deep into spring. The time for hot weather drew near. The blazing sun shone down on the mainland by the East Sea, sending up an endless wave of steam and sinking Dongyi into a wet heat. Fortunately, the sea breeze never stopped and was able to dissipate some of the stuffiness.
After the incident at Dong Mountain three years ago, the place where the disciples of the Sword Hut practiced their sword skills was moved outside. No one dared to disrupt the sword saint deep in the Hut tending to his injuries, which was why the Hut would appeared so quiet. The air was filled with shapeless water vapor. Following the cooling of the sun, it sank toward the ground and slowly lay across sword blades and scrap metal, condensing into many water droplets.
As the sun gradually set, the faint red light shone into the depths of the Sword Hut and fell over the large pit. It clearly illuminated the water droplets on the countless swords, seeping a blood red color into them like a drop of blood.
From somewhere, few flies flew in and curiously flew around the sword pit making an irritating buzzing sound. These creatures didn’t know what status and reputation this pit and the swords in it represented. They just instinctively stared the red water droplets on the swords, feeling confused. Why did these blood drops not carry a trace of the bloody stench they liked?
It was warm, so the natural iciness of the sword mound was reduced a great deal. Only then were these flies brave enough to dance around. In the dark room beside the sword mound, there was an iciness that was different from the environment outside. Perhaps it was because the room had not seen sunlight for many years or because the Great Grandmaster lying in bed was gradually inching toward death and giving off a fearful chill.
In the room, there were no flies, no spiders, and no webs. No mosquitoes dared to bite the person covered by a thick blanket. In the corner of a snow-white war, there was a fingernail-sized long-leg mosquito staring fixedly at the person under the blankets.
The long-legged mosquito trembled. Its clear wings occasionally stroked its own gradually drying body, reminding itself that it was still alive. Two of its long legs appeared particularly weak. Its entire body was an unhealthy brown color. It looked like its life force was all gone and was almost just a shell.
It had not flown away because it had not found someone to feed on in the Sword Hut. All of the people in the Sword Hut seemed to have a strange power. If the mosquito came close to their bodies, it would be pushed back and shocked by a shapeless obstacle.
Only the almost dead person in bed did not have this ability. The long-legged mosquito still did not fly down because it felt a chill coming from the almost dead person’s body. During such a hot day, it was so cold that the mosquito almost couldn’t endure it anymore.
But, it continued to endure because it knew that the person was going to die. No matter how powerful they were, as long as they were dead, they would become blood and flesh. It needed the blood, and the flies outside needed the flesh.
…
…
Under the thick blankets, Sigu Jian’s entire body was icy cold and shook uncontrollably. Each time he shook, it causes a tearing pain to rip through the wound on his chest. Three years ago, he had been punched by the Qing Emperor’s Way of the Emperor. One of his arms had been forcibly torn off by Ye Liuyun. A month ago, he had been stabbed twice in the chest by the Shadow. Even though Fei Jie’s poison had frozen his injuries, there was still no chance of survival.
He should have died long ago, but he didn’t. He just kept his eyes open, staring woodenly at the snow-white wall and long-legged mosquito in the corner. He watched it tremble and endure, waiting for the mosquito to give up and fall from the wall.
The emotions in the Great Grandmaster’s eyes were indifferent and calm. It was as if he had seen through everything in the world, including the last phase of life and the terrible fear between life and death.
In this pair of eyes, there was not a trace of the violent killing intent he had when he killed a hundred Tiger Guards, the bloody sword intent he had when he massacred the manor, to the battle intent that had shot out mercilessly There wasn’t even a trace of the amusement he had when, many years ago, he stared at ants under the large tree. There was only calm and the shadow of the withered, brown, trembling long-legged mosquito.
On the brink of death, Sigu Jian refused to die because he was waiting for someone.
The room door was gently pushed open. The slightly warm light of the setting sun shone in, stretching the young man’s shadow across the ground.
Sigu Jian didn’t waste the last of his life to glance at him. He didn’t say anything. He knew that since he had hurried back, he would tell him something he wanted to hear.
…
…
Fan Xian left Jingdou and turned toward Weizhou. He then headed straight for Ten Family village. He had been on the road for days and finally met up with the Overwatch Council outside Dongyi. He didn’t waste a single moment in rushing to the Sword Hut. Under Yun Zhilan’s rather indifferent gaze, he pushed open there doors and entered. Accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps, he came to Sigu Jian’s side.
He looked at Sigu Jian’s head sticking out from under the thick blankets. He only now realized how thin this sword-saint and Great Grandmaster’s body was. Even though he had three layers of blankets, he still took up very little space. It made his head appear particularly big.
The reality of Sigu Jian still being alive despite his plight made Fan Xian feel surprised. He looked at the old and indifferent face and said, “Without refreshing one’s Qi, one’s form could not be sustained; I shall guide the Heavenly Spring to nourish my body…”
Without saying anything about the Qing Emperor’s edict, discussing the future of Dongyi, or speaking of the secret in his heart, at the first instant, Fan Xian began to recite, line by line, the Unnamed Martial Secret he had practiced since childhood. He recited it clearly and fervently.
The Unnamed Martial Secret was split into two volumes. In Fan Xian’s life, he had only cultivated the first volume. Although he had thoroughly memorized the second volume, he could not make any progress with it. These words were etched into his mind and could not fade. Reciting it in front of Sigu Jian’s bed, it only took him the space of a few breaths.
He didn’t have to think about whether Sigu Jian would understand or if he would remember. Even though he was about to die, he was still a Great Grandmaster.
Following Fan Xian’s words, Sigu Jian’s gaze gradually withdrew from the mosquito in the corner. Staring at the empty air in front of him, his indifferent gaze became sharp and converged like a sword. The sword body gradually gave off light, glowing with light and burning with an incredible heat.
Fan Xian closed his mouth and stood silently and calmly to the side.
Without needing him to explain, Sigu Jian was able to tell that the heart of this unimaginable and strangle violent method of moving qi he was reciting was the true tyrannical spell of the Qing Emperor’s meridian.
Sigu Jian’s eyes grew brighter with Fan Xian’s recitation and faded as he stopped talking.
“How do I cultivate the second volume?” Fan Xian asked respectfully with his head lowered.
“Can’t,” Sigu Jian’s voice was extremely weak and raspy, but his answer was firm.
Fan Xian was not disappointed and continued to ask calmly, “But, the Emperor cultivated the second volume as the Way of the Emperor.”
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“The pinnacle of the Tyrannical Way is the Way of the Emperor.” Perhaps it was because he finally knew of the secret of the Qing Emperor’s martial methods before he died, but Sigu Jian seemed much better than before. His voice gradually became smooth. He said with slight mockery, “The pinnacle of the Tyrannical Way is still the Tyrannical Way. Does your Emperor really think that there could be a change in essence?”
“Reality has already proved this point,” Fan Xian said with his head down. “The Emperor cultivated the second volume I want to know how he did it and if it would have had some effect on him.”
Sigu Jian sank into silence. His faint gaze gradually revealed a slight confusion that quickly turned into a smile that understood all things. Quietly, he said, “The meridians of the flesh always have their limits.. Even for such a strange creature like you, you still have your limits.”
“That is why you taught me to lead with the heart under the tree and in the manor. One’s flesh always has limits, but one’s desire does not,” Fan Xian continued his words.
“The Tyrannical Way…” Sigu Jian coughed, his icy body trembled beneath the blankets. No one else understood better than the Great Grandmaster that no matter how extraordinary a creature, once their life force was destroyed and their fleshly body broken, they were not much different to a common person.
“If one could truly surpass one’s bodily limits…” Sigu Jian closed his eyes and began to re-enact in his mind the scene on Dong Mountain.
Rain fell on the summit. That finger broke through the rainwater and landed between Ku He’s brows. In a flash, half a lake of water entered and forcefully broke Imperial Advisor Ku He’s bodily qi sea container. It was one touch.
Sigu Jian suddenly opened his eyes. His pupils were constricted until they were as small as the tip of a sword. In a slow tone, he said, “One touch to pass half a lake… No one could use such a speed to send out the true source. At the final cultivation of one’s meridians, no matter how thick they become, there is still a limit.”
Fan Xian had not been on the mountain at the time so didn’t know what Sigu Jian was thinking or quite understand his words. He thought everyone who practiced martial arts and raised their cultivations revolved around the ideas of true and power. Power was the so-called skills. Presently, he could add desire Sigu Jian had taught him to this as well. However, true was just one’s cultivation. Regardless of whether it was a common cultivator’s qi sea below the navel or his two circulations at his back, there had to be a foundation that followed the meridians.
One’s body had meridians, so it was limited by meridians. He felt Sigu Jian’s words were pointless. However, Fan Xian gradually understood what Sigu Jian was saying. His expression changed slightly.
Complicated emotions seeped out of Sigu Jian’s serene and icy gaze. In the end, these emotions became a thick sense of mockery. Combined with the slight twitch that he managed to squeeze out with difficulty from the corners of his mouth, it appeared harsh and despicable.
A low and strange laugh rang out from between Sigu Jian’s withered lips. It seemed particularly ear-piercing. Perhaps he was laughing at the Qing Emperor, at himself, or at Fan Xian lack of self-awareness to want to learn the second half of the Unnamed Martial Secret.
He looked calmly at Fan Xian and said clearly, “The Emperor has no meridians in his body.”
Although he had already guessed a little from Sigu Jian’s words earlier, Fan Xian’s mind still felt like it had been struck by lightning upon suddenly hearing these words. It began to buzz. He was stunned and full of confusion. The Emperor had no meridians in his body? How could a person without meridians survive?
“The second volume continues along the Tyrannical Way. If you continue practicing, your only outcome would be to have your meridians explode and end up dead. Even if you were lucky, you would become a permanent cripple,” Sigu Jian said coldly as he looked at Fan Xian. “If you don’t stretch out and break your meridians, it is impossible for you to do the circulation methods in the second volume. Those inclinations are not normal methods. Even if you practice another 50 years, it still won’t work.”
Fan Xian took a number of deep breaths and forced down the shock in his heart. He knew that Sigu Jian’s analysis was correct. Many years ago, he had practiced the Tyrannical zhenqi to its peak. At the time, he had reached the threshold of the ninth-level and was very spirited. Outside the Jingdou yamen, he had broken Xie Bi’an’s strike with his fist and unexpectedly caused the zhenqi in his body to surge and explode, heavily injuring the meridians in his body.
With great effort, he healed his injury. During the chase in the Hanging Temple as he was fighting spiritedly with the Shadow, the hidden injury flared up again. In the end, he had been heavily injured by the Shadow’s slip-up.
Fan Xian had twice practiced the Tyrannical martial secret to the final hidden danger. When he was still a child, Fei Jie had already sensed that he would certainly meet some great danger in the future and had left him that large red pill.
.
In the end, that large red pill had been delivered into the empress dowager’s mouth. Fan Xian knew that this was only because he was lucky that he was able to survive his zhenqi breaking through and heavily injuring his meridians twice.
He had depended on Haitang Duoduo’s life-saving grace, the Northern Qi’s natural Tianyi Dao martial method that was not shared with outsiders. In Jiangnan, he had used Tianyi Dao’s natural zhenqi to repair himself for a long time before healing the injuries on his meridians. In the end, he fully cultivated the two completely different zhenqis. They each formed a circulation in his body, supporting the other. Only then did he distance himself from the danger of zhenqi exploding in his body, a shadow that had accompanied him since his youth.
Now, he had received confirmation from Sigu Jian’s mouth. If he wanted to cultivate the second volume, he had to allow the zhenqi to explode and shatter all of the meridians in his body. Thinking of this, Fan Xian’s face turned deathly pale. Lying frozen in bed, unable to eat or speak, such a life was not for humans to live. Furthermore, how does one survive after shattering all their meridians?
“Whether or not you survive after shattering all your meridians depends on fate,” Sigu Jian said coldly. “Undoubtedly, the Qing Emperor is a lucky person.”
Even though he was about to die, Sigu Jian still would not admit that the Qing Emperor followed the will of heaven.
Fan Xian was silent for a long time. He then shook his head. “Luck cannot resolve the problem. My luck is also pretty good. I did not die the first time my meridians were injured. I know that if all meridians are shattered, one could become a cripple. That kind of omnipotent pain is not something that humans can endure.”
“But, the Qing Emperor endured and lived.” Sigu Jian lowered his eyelids slightly and gave a barely noticeable sigh.
Fan Xian sank into a dazed condition. He had many dreams and ideals in this life. Putting aside the secular things of wife, children, and money, and speaking only of the Unnamed Martial Secret that had accompanied his entire second life, it had already become one part of his life. Although he had never spoken about it, he strongly desired to be able to cultivate this martial secret to the second volume.
It had nothing to do with breaking through the realm and becoming a Great Grandmaster. It was purely something he longed for. Now, this kind of longing suddenly became an unattainable dream. To be able to survive after shattering his meridians, endure that inhumane pain, forcefully pick up the drops of zhenqi that had scattered like starlight, and endure the irritation of his entire body being frozen while maintaining his will…
Fan Xian suddenly remembered that Chen Pingping and his father had mentioned that when the Qing Kingdom carried out its first Northern expedition against the Wei Kingdom, the Emperor had lost to Commander Zhang Qingfeng and had been heavily injured. His entire body had been frozen. He had almost died.
It looked like the Emperor’s breakthrough of the martial secret had happened on the dangerous and rapidly changing battlefield.
Fan Xian sighed involuntarily. Regardless of his affection toward and impressions of the Emperor, once he thought of the scene on the battlefield and the torment that the middle-aged man had once endured, as well as the miraculous change, he still felt a wave of admiration.
“Other than fate, what else is needed?” Fan Xian muttered to himself.
“Willpower, uncommon willpower. Otherwise, you will not be able to push through that kind of pain, the torment of being between life and death, the fear of being shut in the dark and struggling with the unknown.”
Sigu Jian spoke indifferently. Although he had never cultivated the Unnamed Martial Secret, he only needed a thought to know how to cultivate the second volume and what kind of self-discipline the Qing Emperor had once endured.
“The Qing Emperor must have been a lot of pain, a great deal of pain… This is the reason I was happy just now.” Without waiting for Fan Xian the comment, Sigu Jian continued with a raspy laugh, “However, I greatly admire the determination and willpower possessed by the person who was able to overcome it.”
“I can’t do it, and neither can you,” Sigu Jian said. “Probably only he could have such willpower and be so ruthless with himself. You should give up this thought.”
Fan Xian lowered his head. He had no idea what to say. He only heard Sigu Jian’s angry voice ring out by his ear, “Motherf*cker… This is not something that could be practiced by humans!”
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