The Unveiling of an Old Acquaintance

After a prolonged and intense battle, Murong Qihuang finally sensed something amiss.

Initially, she had held back, intending to capture the great bandit alive.

However, after a few exchanges, she realized her opponent possessed profound internal energy, clearly no easy foe.

Driven by a desire to probe their true strength, her swordplay grew increasingly fierce.

Yet, even after dozens of aggressive moves, her opponent revealed not a single shred of their true martial art.

With simple waves, flicks, or parries, they effortlessly neutralized every attack.

Though appearing rudimentary and unrefined, their movements concealed an ingenious power.

Each strike and stance precisely targeted the critical weaknesses in her sword technique.

A surge of anxiety gripped Murong Qihuang, and she let out a sharp cry.

Her sword intent unleashed, every subsequent move aimed directly at her opponent’s vital points.

This was now a desperate, life-or-death struggle.

Logically, in such a perilous moment, people instinctively resort to their most familiar techniques for self-preservation.

Yet, her opponent remained unhurried, moving with the leisurely grace of a stroll through a garden.

Murong Qihuang mused, ‘This flying bandit is certainly no ordinary character. But when did such a formidable individual appear in the martial world?’

With this thought, she pointed her [Fengwu] downwards, splitting the clear, jade-belt river surface with a resounding “Whoosh—”

With a single sword stroke, she cleaved the river, then ascended, hovering above the surging waves.

****

The path of the sword often comprises five realms: Swordsman, Sword Master, Sword Saint, Sword Immortal, and Sword Sovereign.

The first two realms focus on mastering sword techniques, striving for seasoned proficiency.

The third realm begins to pursue the complete integration of sword intent.

The fourth realm signifies one has already attained the Dao of the Sword, transcending to become an immortal.

As for the fifth realm, it is the legendary Human-Sword Unity, merely hinted at in ancient texts.

It has remained unseen by anyone for millennia.

Legend claims that only in the Sword Tomb of Penglai in the East Sea have relics of past Sword Sovereigns been found.

Murong Qihuang now performed this immortal feat, cleaving the river with a single strike of [Fengwu].

Her aim was to force her opponent to reveal their true capabilities and engage in a fair, decisive battle.

But what was *he* doing?

Ye Di, clutching a swaying river lantern, leaped high into the air, soaring like a vulture against the night sky.

‘Was that lantern truly so important?’

Murong Qihuang cast aside her peculiar thoughts, her long sword in hand as she stepped through the air.

No matter how strong Ye Di was, he would have to give his all now.

With one hand shielding the river lantern behind him, he fought with a single palm against her for dozens of exchanges.

As Murong Qihuang’s sword momentum finally eased, Ye Di descended with the subsiding waves, gently placing the river lantern back onto the river surface.

Separated by several *zhang*, the two gazed at each other beneath the night sky.

Murong Qihuang suddenly spoke:

“The ‘Xiaoxiang Sword Art’.”

Ye Di’s eyebrows involuntarily twitched, his expression solemn.

Murong Qihuang continued:

“That last move, you used his ‘Xiaoxiang Sword Art’.”

Her eyes turned cold, her voice quiet, chilling, and profound:

“Even without a weapon, I recognize the technique clearly. What is your relationship with him… Ye Di?”

Ye Di sighed inwardly, realizing his flaw had finally been exposed.

He had no intention of answering, merely glancing around.

‘Damn it, I only wanted to see who was fated to pick up the river lantern with my riddle on it. Unexpectedly, I ran into an old acquaintance from years past.’

Over this past century, things had changed drastically, like seas turning into mulberry fields.

He hadn’t bothered to inquire about the whereabouts of those from his past.

Ye Di felt that since he had died once, he ought to sever ties with the past and begin a new life.

He hadn’t expected that the white-robed Sword Immortal of yesteryear, his sworn Dao companion, would have settled down and taken root in such an unassuming, nameless town.

She was naturally fond of quiet, so causing such a grand commotion today was entirely unlike her.

This battle, once it spread through the martial world, would undoubtedly stir up another wave of unrest.

After all, in the vast martial world, Sword Immortal realm experts could be counted on one’s fingers.

Ye Di said:

“Ye Di? Isn’t he already a dead man?”

Murong Qihuang’s breath caught.

Ye Di smiled and shook his head:

“Your martial arts are truly exceptional, Lady Hero. To encounter such a formidable opponent today, my luck must be poor. The mountains are high and the rivers long; we shall meet again.”

Having spoken, he turned, taking a few bounding steps across the river’s surface.

Then, amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, he vanished into the night.

****

After running for several *li*, a dense forest came into view.

Ye Di slowed his pace, ensuring no pursuers remained behind him.

Finding an open space, he sat cross-legged and began to regulate his internal energy.

In the previous battle, Ye Di had appeared to be at ease, but in reality, he had expended a tremendous amount of energy, far from being as relaxed as he seemed.

After all, Murong Qihuang was also in the Sword Immortal realm.

Moreover, to avoid revealing his true martial arts style, Ye Di had resorted to unconventional and unorthodox moves, barely managing to cope.

Though, ultimately, some clues had been discerned.

Ye Di sighed, casting aside his chaotic thoughts, and focused on circulating his internal energy.

Having practiced the sword since childhood, he had cultivated three internal arts in total.

The first, the Dongting Sutra, was personally taught by his master, intended to fortify his foundation and lay a solid groundwork for his future sword practice.

The second, the Po Jun Heart Incantation, was a gift from Murong Qihuang.

She claimed this heart art was supremely yang and unyielding, unsuitable for a woman to cultivate.

Rather than letting the ‘fertile water flow to another’s field,’ she simply gave it to him.

Later, Ye Di learned that this heart art was not only fierce, but also followed a path of ‘harming a thousand enemies while incurring eight hundred self-inflicted wounds.’

Murong Qihuang had actually feared that if he couldn’t defeat the Demon Lord, he would at least have the Po Jun Heart Incantation as a last resort to fight with his life on the line.

The third was the current Grand Ruin Divine Art.

The author and origin of this cultivation method were unknown.

Back then, Ye Di had fallen off a cliff, his martial arts completely crippled.

He discovered this heart art in a cave.

Obsessed with martial arts and trapped in the cave, unable to escape, he figured he might as well practice according to the methods described.

Unexpectedly, as the art circulated, a warm current began to flow through his almost ruined meridians.

His dantian, like a desolate ruin, once again filled with incredibly pure true qi.

Then, through spring blossoms and autumn moons, year after year, Ye Di, without [Tangxi] or the Po Jun Heart Incantation, relied on cultivating this Grand Ruin Divine Art, and regained his former prowess.

No, he had ascended to an even higher level.

He even had a faint sensation of approaching the peak of the Sword Immortal realm.

Upon emerging from seclusion, he stepped through the void, traversing the boundless sea of clouds between two towering peaks.

If a woodcutter had been on the mountain then, witnessing such a divine feat, they would surely have rushed back to town, exclaiming, “The Sword Immortal of Immortal’s Peak has manifested!”

Ye Di re-entered the martial world, finding the sunlight of a century later somewhat dazzling.

The sea of trees rippled in waves under the mountain wind, springs tinkled, and jade-belt streams flowed merrily.

On the peak where he had slain the Demon Lord, a stone tablet stood, inscribed with powerful characters: “Tomb of Yunxi Sword Immortal Ye Di.”

Yunxi was a sect in the martial world that had held almost his entire youth. ‘The most gifted junior disciple in the sect died… I wonder how they are doing now.’

He descended the mountain, walked into a town, and listened to storytellers recount tales of the Sword Immortal.

On the street, children wearing painted Sword Immortal masks, clutching short wooden sticks, ran past with a ‘thump-thump-thump’.

Just as one was about to collide with Ye Di, he stepped aside, offering a faint smile as he watched the childlike figure disappear into the distance.

He felt as if everything had changed, and a hundred years had passed in the blink of an eye.

****

After an unknown period, Ye Di finished regulating his breath.

When he looked up, a faint sliver of dawn, like a fish’s belly, was already visible in the east.

Thinking it was time to move on, Ye Di chose a direction at random and ambled along.

Before long, an apricot-yellow wine flag, fluttering in the wind, caught his eye.

As he stepped over the threshold, a waiter with a grey cloth wrapped around his head approached.

“Esteemed guest, are you here for a meal or lodging?”

Ye Di replied:

“A pound of sliced beef, two small side dishes, and a pot of warmed wine.”

“Coming right up!”

The waiter turned, let out a long shout, rattling off all the dishes Ye Di had ordered.

After the bartender served all the dishes, Ye Di swiftly devoured his meal, then went to the counter to settle the bill.

The shopkeeper, who had been tallying numbers on his abacus, looked up. Upon recognizing Ye Di, he smiled and said:

“Esteemed guest, your bill has already been settled.”

‘Settled?’

Ye Di was taken aback. He said:

“Shopkeeper, I am alone and have few friends. Where would such a kind person come from to pay my bill?”

The shopkeeper stared at him for a moment, then a realization dawned on him.

His smile widened further:

“Then there’s no mistake; someone indeed paid your bill beforehand. You may leave at ease, esteemed guest.”

Ye Di shook his head:

“Kindness of unknown origin leaves me uneasy. Please inform me, Shopkeeper, did this gentleman leave his name? What about his build and appearance?”

The shopkeeper replied:

“They are a young… *Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey*… It’s best you don’t inquire further, esteemed guest. You wouldn’t want to make them embarrassed later, it would shame them.”

Ye Di’s expression grew strange, utterly perplexed.

According to the shopkeeper, this gentleman had paid for his meal yet refused to show themselves.

And the reason seemed to be “shyness.”

A true man, seven feet tall, should be bold and forthright. What was there to be shy about?

If they had appeared openly, they could have feasted on meat and drunk heartily. If their conversation had flowed well, they might have become fast friends.

‘Could they be from a sect, constrained by rules, making it inconvenient to appear in public?’

Ye Di was completely baffled.

He could only thank the shopkeeper and leave.