Chapter 179 – The Savage Mount Qixia

The setting sun cast its glow, dyeing the sea of clouds red as it churned between the mountains. Lu Liangsheng watched for a moment, then turned away. He did not hurry to inspect the Veiled Moon Sword, which had just drawn in its first strand of spiritual essence. Instead, he walked toward the old pine, brushed away the needles on the stone tablet, and picked one up between his fingers.

As expected, his master’s experience ran deep—the art of artifact refinement could never be achieved by relying solely on books.

Behind him, by the cliff’s edge, the Toad Daoist stood with his webbed hands clasped behind him, still staring at the surging sea of clouds. His purple short-sleeved robe fluttered in the wind.

“Even the slightest deviation brings great differences in the density and flow of spiritual qi during refinement.”

Hearing this, the scholar gave a quiet hum. The pine needle between his fingers slowly floated up.

“It’s time for the next step.”

With the first infusion of spiritual energy of the refining array already in the Veiled Moon Sword, the scholar standing before the gravestone raised his sleeves. His robe suddenly swept outward—his spiritual power shook the air, and immense ripples spread with the motion of his sleeve.

The pine needle in his hand, together with all the needles scattered around his feet, spiraled upward and danced about him.

“Wood!”

In the glow of the dying sun, countless needles lit up with a deeper green than their natural hue. Like a long dragon twisting through the air, they surged toward the sword in the center of the array. The moment they shrouded it, they fell one after another. From the sword came crisp metallic etching sounds—kaka—beneath the Clear Moon and Wandering Clouds pattern, a newly carved seal rune emerged: Wood.

The segment of the sword embedded in the soil seemed to sprout roots that burrowed into the earth. The ground around it swelled once and split with several cracks.

“Wind, come.”

Lu Liangsheng took a step forward, extending his arm toward the sea of clouds beyond the cliff. The old pine swayed violently, its branches rustling; the cloud sea roiled, spiraling into a mass of mist that flew up the cliff. With the motion of his outstretched hand, the gathered wind surged into the sword’s tip.

Hoooo—

The forests on the mountainside thrashed wildly in the gale. The Toad Daoist hurriedly shielded his face with his webbed hands, bending his body, nearly blown off the cliff entirely.

Your mother’s—! As your master, I only taught you how to refine artifacts, not forge a divine sword!

He had originally assumed the boy merely wanted his usual weapon to absorb the spiritual resonance of the seven spiritual swords. Who would have thought he’d go this far—this was forging all four spirits directly into the sword!

Kaka…

The engravings on the sword shifted again. As the wind pattern swept past the Wandering Clouds design, the outline of the Clear Moon was revealed a little more.

At his side, Lu Liangsheng controlled the mountain’s wind spiritual energy, merging it with the earlier wood elemental energy to stabilize it. Then he turned, raised his palm, and curled his fingers into a claw, grasping toward the mountain village below—where cooking smoke was rising.

The fire of the common people!

In the village, a woman washing rice had just poured it into the pot. Her husband added a handful of firewood into the stove—whump—a burst of flame surged out, licking his face and startling him so badly he instinctively fell backward.

“W-waah…! My eyebrows are on fire!”

Flustered, he scrambled around as a cluster of fire shot out from the kitchen. At the same time, above the village, many fireballs flew out of houses one after another, gathering into a mass that drifted toward the mid-slopes of Mount Qixia. Children playing outside screamed in surprise.

“The fire’s flying!” “It has to be Mister Lu!”

“Waa— will it burn the mountain down?!”

“Hurry, go tell the adults!”

At that moment, on the muddy path outside the village, a lone rider charged forward, bathed in the red glow of the setting sun. Her long black hair streamed behind her in the wind, and the anxiety in her eyes deepened as she saw the massive fireball taking shape over the village. The sight left her completely stunned.

As the horse’s back rose and fell, Min Yuerou turned her face slightly and glanced behind. She could faintly hear several extremely rapid footsteps closing in.

Facing forward again, staring at the mountain toward which the fireball was flying, she recalled her father’s instructions. Her tightly clenched teeth parted—no longer caring about composure. Her red lips opened wide as her clear voice broke into a desperate scream.

“Lu Liangsheng!!”

“Save me!”

Her crisp voice, pushed to its limit, turned hoarse and sharp as it echoed between the village and the mountain. The returning villagers of the Lu clan, carrying their hoes, all jumped in fright at the sound.

“Save me.”

“Save me…”

The voice spread far through the surrounding mountains, reverberating. On the broken cliff on the western side of Mount Qixia, Lu Liangsheng remained expressionless—though his figure froze for an instant. But this moment was the critical stage of drawing in fire; he dared not interrupt his spell.

That voice seems to be Min Chang’s young daughter…

The thought flashed by. Lu Liangsheng turned his face slightly, then sharply drew his clawed hand inward. A scorching wave of fire rolled up toward him. Not far away, the Toad Daoist’s bulging eyes widened—he clutched his head and ran wildly in the gale.

“Croak-croak… croak-croak!”

Seeing the huge boulder not far away, the Toad Daoist kicked with his webbed feet. His short body shot toward a crack in the rock; his two stubby legs flailed wildly outside for a moment, and his round belly shrank. With a rip, his purple short-sleeved robe tore open before he barely squeezed himself into the crevice.

The instant the massive fireball lit up the cliff and neared the old pine and the scholar, a wisp of smoke as thin as a thread attached itself to the Veiled Moon Sword. In less than half a breath, the fire aura surged upward, coiling around the blade and heating it red-hot.

Lu Liangsheng suddenly stretched both arms left and right, his hands forming claws. His cloud-patterned white robe and his gauze cap billowed and swelled.

“Mountain!”

The next second, thunderous rumbles echoed from the surrounding peaks. The forests shook wildly, and flocks of birds burst into the air in a dark swarm, fleeing in panic.

Spiritual Qi gathered. Beneath the sword array, the soil and dust particles leapt madly, surging upward. In half a breath, as though forming a sheath, the earth climbed along the Veiled Moon Sword, covering the burning fire aura.

Chiii—chiii—

White steam erupted, instantly shrouding the entire cliff.

Lu…

Liang…

Sheng…

Save me…

From afar, the cry drifted over like a mosquito’s buzz. Only now did Lu Liangsheng have time to turn his body toward the direction of the voice. From that direction, he faintly sensed a vicious demonic aura stained with human life.

“Min Yuerou?!”

Only then did he remember whose voice it was. But why had she come here—and why was she being chased by a demon?

“Save her first.”

Lu Liangsheng stepped forward twice and came to the cliff’s edge. He raised one hand slightly, and with his fingertip, he wrote a seal-script character in the air.

Within the billowing white mist, a glimmer of flame lit up. The earth-covered Veiled Moon Sword let out a low hum and boom—shattered the hardened layer of soil. Suspended in midair, fiery lines slithered across the blade like moving serpents, revealing the seal: Fire.

“Execute!”

The scholar’s lips pressed out the word lightly. The suspended Veiled Moon Sword tilted horizontally in midair, its tip pointing toward the small village outside the mountain. In the next instant, a roaring blast tore through the air, and the sword shot out. The gale it stirred pressed the forests on both sides flat, trees swaying and nearly breaking.

Outside Lu Family Village, in the villagers’ line of sight at the field ridge, a distant horse was charging toward them.

Tat-tat-tat—

The horse’s hooves pounded. Its trembling haunches suddenly burst with a spray of blood—struck by something. The running horse reared up in agony.

“Neigh—!”

Letting out a long, pained scream, the massive horse toppled onto its side. The woman atop it was thrown off, tumbling several times across the fields. Covered in mud and scattered wheat husks, she scrambled up in disarray, stumbling as she pulled the slender short blade from her waist and shouted at the villagers who were still watching as though it were a show.

“Run, quickly!”

Then, acting on instinct, she raised the blade to block. A deafening crash rang out, sparks scattering—she couldn’t hold on. The short blade was knocked skyward, and she herself was thrown backward, hitting the ground and rolling over once.

The people of the Lu Family Village and North Village, who had been standing on the ridge watching, suddenly saw the air twist. Two female figures appeared out of nowhere, clad in dark-violet kasayas, each wielding a pair of slender curved sabers, their faces twisted in ferocity as they looked over.

The villagers glanced at one another for a split second—then turned and ran, hoes on their shoulders.

“Where is Minister of Personnel Min Chang?”

One of the kasaya-clad attendants withdrew her gaze and lowered her eyes once more to the fallen woman. Her voice was cold and without emotion.

“Protector of the Nation Venerable Master requests his return.”

“Bah!” Min Yuerou scraped against the mud as she sat up. She glanced at the short blade lying not far away, replying as she instinctively shifted her position, “You bunch of demons, you’ll get what you deserve sooner or later!”

At this moment, hooves approached from the end of the village road. Two guards on horseback shouted from afar:

“Miss!” “Don’t you dare harm our young lady!!”

The two attendants in dark-violet kasayas tilted their gazes. One of them turned toward the approaching guards. The moment her figure stepped onto the muddy path, she slipped into the very light itself and vanished.

“Don’t come any closer!” Min Yuerou shouted toward them.

On the side she faced, a streak of black dragged a fiery tail across the sky, hurtling toward them at great speed.

The quiet branches, drooping under the dying red of the sunset, suddenly shook. A blaze-red shadow flashed past, and several leaves lit with scattered sparks.

Walking over the mountain village, Old Master Lu—who had been meandering home—was suddenly caught in a gust so fierce that it spun him in place twice before he stopped. He stared around in confusion.

“Eh… when did I come out here? Where’s my home?”

Boom.

A wave of force rolled out. Thatch from several rooftops lifted into the air, drifting everywhere. A family in the midst of their meal stared, bowls in hand, through the enormous gap torn open above them. The last light of the sunset shone straight in across their faces. The vegetables held between their chopsticks dropped to the floor as they muttered to one another.

“What was that that flew past?”

“I just want to know where our roof went.”

“No idea. But it’s gone.”

Clang, Clang, Clang…

The moment the fences encircling the village and the archway at the entrance rattled, the attendant in the dark-violet kasaya who was rushing toward the two guards felt as though something exploded beside her ears. A chill that made her pores tighten swept over her. She halted mid-stride, her body still in its concealed state, and turned her head.

Over there, the other attendant who had been about to strike Min Yuerou seemed frozen in place as though caught by a body-binding spell, still holding her blade mid-swing as she turned her face. The woman on the ground also turned her head toward the disturbance.

What entered their sight was a blaze of firelight. A booming hum filled the air—and in a flash, the attendant in the dark-violet kasaya before Min Yuerou vanished.

Hiii—

Horses reared in terror to both sides, throwing their riders to the ground. The distant attendant in the dark-violet kasaya, driven purely by instinct and the advantage of distance, fled toward a nearby hillside.

Boom!

Bang.

Two consecutive detonations rose, firelight surging into the sky. Min Yuerou and the two guards scrambled up in terror, staring toward the mountain wall at the end of the road. The cliff face had caved in, shattered stones flying and tumbling in all directions.

As the haze of dust dispersed, a human-shaped silhouette reduced to ash appeared within the hollow—alongside a massive centipede nearly the length of a person.

“Th-that…”

The three unconsciously drew together, staring wide-eyed at the center of the mountain wall. There, a long sword wreathed in flames was embedded, humming in a rapid tremor. The surrounding rock still cracked and slid down in fragments.

“That’s… an immortal sword…” “So that scholar who once lived in the same district as us—he was an immortal!”

The two guards’ legs shook uncontrollably—partly from fright (after all, that sword had flown right between them), and partly because they had once lived under the same roof as an immortal and had even greeted him.

“Are you all unharmed?”

A faint voice resonated as though sounding right beside their ears. Min Yuerou instinctively turned around. At the village entrance, a scholar in an azure robe and a white coat stood there, raising his hand lightly.

The Veiled Moon Sword embedded in the collapsed cliff vibrated sharply. With a loud hum, it tore free from the centipede’s corpse and shot backward.

The woman felt a gust of wind sweep past from behind. Her loose azure hair fluttered upward. The immortal sword streaked past her vision, cutting across the crimson glow of the sunset, and landed straight into the scholar’s hand.

It was quite a while before she recovered. She shook her head, swept aside the strands of hair falling over her cheek, and gestured for the two guards to follow her as she walked forward.

As she approached, her emotions finally settled. Looking at the scholar she had met several times before, she drew a deep breath—yet for the moment, she did not know how to begin speaking.

The guards who had followed behind reacted quickly and hastily cupped their fists.

“We pay our respects to Young Master Lu.”

Lu Liangsheng reversed his grip on the Veiled Moon Sword, which now faintly took on the bearing of a spirit sword, and smiled as he turned to walk into the village. His voice was clear and gentle: “All three of you, come in together.”

“Uh… oh.”

Min Yuerou froze for a moment, answered in a daze, and followed after him into the village. Those living nearby, hearing the commotion, had already filled the drying grounds, whispering among themselves as they watched.

“Who are those three?” “Looks like they know Liangsheng.” “…Of course they know him—didn’t they call his name just now?”

“Hey, what happened earlier?” “Who knows? Let’s go up ahead and take a look.”

Seeing Liangsheng walk off with the three already, the curious villagers rushed out in a swarm toward the mountain wall at the end of the muddy path. They crowded together, gawking at the deep crater, the human-shaped ash imprint, and the charred centipede on the ground, shouting in alarm.

“Good heavens…” “Such a huge centipede, it must’ve become a spirit!”

“Exactly! When I was up on the ridge, I saw two women carrying blades. Maybe one of them turned into this thing. Luckily, I had the guts to look twice!”

“Tsk tsk… with Liangsheng in our village, no monster would dare come close. Look at that—it’s practically burned to nothing.”

“Hey, hey, since this centipede’s so big—and a spirit creature too—imagine soaking it in wine. That’d be something!”

“You’re not scared?”

“What’s there to be scared of? It’s already dead. Can’t I at least shout about it? Come on, let’s haul it back, peel the shell, and share it among the households!”

“Yes, yes! Someone give me a hand!”

Compared to the bustle outside, Min Yuerou—now inside the small fenced courtyard—felt uneasy. She didn’t know why, but the moment she entered, despite the heat of the day, a chill crept over her. Now and then, she felt as though eyes were watching from behind the window lattice.

“Don’t worry. It’s very safe here.”

Lu Liangsheng naturally knew the reason and called over the Daoist who had been peering curiously at the woman from all angles. “Old Sun, keep them company for now.”

Just as he was about to turn and head into the inner room, the woman in the courtyard dodged the Daoist who was getting too close and quickly called out: “Lu Liangsheng, wait! There were three monsters in total—just now you only got rid of one!”

At the doorway, the scholar turned his face slightly, stunned for a moment, then smiled:

“Hehe… there’s something far more ferocious than monsters here. Don’t worry—none of them can escape.”

More ferocious than monsters?

Min Yuerou’s eyelid twitched. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shabby, black-bottomed, robe-wearing toad, hands clasped behind its back, walking right past her feet—pausing as though aware of her gaze.

The Toad Daoist lifted his bulging eyes slightly and glanced at her.

“What are you staring at? Never seen a toad before?”

Swaying from side to side, he hopped up the stone steps and entered the half-open room across the courtyard.