Chapter 110

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The fields, mountains, and roads were all blanketed in snow, a vast stretch of white. Along the official road, the crisp sound of copper bells jingling echoed through the cold air.

At this point, they were already not far from the capital, Tianzhi. Lu Liangsheng no longer used any spells to hasten their journey. From time to time, the Daoist would dart into nearby woods or frozen gullies to rummage about, while the old donkey, its reins loosened, lazily swayed its tail and trailed behind at its own pace.

The bookrack strapped to either side of its rump creaked and groaned as it swayed. Inside the small compartment atop it, the Toad Daoist sat cross-legged on a mat, arms folded across his webbed limbs, gently rocking along with the motion.

Through the narrow slits in the wooden frame, the toad’s bulging eyes gazed out at the snowy scenery passing by, and a certain memory suddenly came to mind, causing his cheeks to puff up.

…This old one is a great demon, one who once neared the rank of a demon king!

Back in the day, he had fought his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. To survive and rise to the pinnacle, nearly becoming a demon king, he had lived by a simple creed: if you can fight, then fight; if you can eat, then eat; and if you must flee, then flee. But now—

Utter disgrace!

What a humiliation for this old one!

As a proper great demon, he absolutely had to regain his dignity.

The toad parted his lips slightly and let out a long sigh.

If things continued like this, when would he ever restore his cultivation…? It seemed he would have to return to Qishan.

“Fortunately, this old one had the foresight to leave a backup plan. Everything I had amassed in my lifetime is stored there. I’ll need to find a way to get Liangsheng to take me back. Forget rare pills and elixirs—just the Daoist techniques and immortal arts there would be enough to lure him away…”

Just as this thought arose, a sudden croak burst from his mouth.

The toad’s eyes widened. The Earth Fiend Yin Flame Art he had learned that back when he swallowed an elder of the Lihuo Sect… The spell was stored with the rest of his trove.

Could it be… someone stole it?!!

The Toad Daoist could no longer sit still. Wrapped in his bedding, he rolled back and forth atop the blanket, unable to calm himself.

“Master, you just cried out—did something happen?” Came Lu Liangsheng’s voice from outside the compartment.

“It’s nothing!”

Hearing his master’s reply, the scholar smiled. “Then if Master needs anything, just call me.”

He then glanced once more at the Daoist doing who-knows-what by the edge of a field, before turning his head back and continuing to read from the booklet in his hands, titled [Myriad Laws Sword Intent].

The books he had carried with him were long since been read during their journey through the northwest. Now that he had obtained a new one, he naturally wanted to seize the moment to flip through and examine it.

Lu Liangsheng had always been rather curious when it came to sword techniques.

Though the handwriting in the sword manual was scrawled and rough, it didn’t trouble him in the least. The contents were mostly conveyed in a spoken style, breaking down each move one by one, clearly recorded later by someone who had observed the techniques being demonstrated.

Upon finishing the entire booklet, he found the material quite practical. The title’s key phrase, “Myriad”, clearly conveyed the notion of encompassing a myriad of Daoist techniques, yielding a variety of effects.

Lu Liangsheng drew the Veilded Moon Sword from his waist. Channeling his spiritual power into the blade as he gripped the hilt, he followed the manual’s description and performed the opening stance. A pale blue glow flickered across the sword’s surface, and as the tip pointed downward, the dust and snow beneath him were blasted outward in a circular wave.

As expected, it was different from the sword qi Zhu Ziyi had released.

After crossing into the capital’s territory, they passed a small town. Lu Liangsheng asked the Daoist to wait outside while he entered the town alone and purchased several rolls of blank scrolls and blocks of ink. The town itself was sparsely populated, and the idle chatter he heard along the way was mostly the gossip of neighbors.

He also bought a few food items but didn’t linger long. He soon returned outside the town and rejoined Sun Yingxian, who seemed puzzled.

“Feeling itchy hands again? It’s just a drawing—was that really necessary…?”

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

The scholar, no longer moving at his previous leisurely pace, led the Daoist swiftly into a desolate snowy area. There, he hung one of the blank scrolls upon the trunk of a tree.

Before long, he had ground the ink and, referencing the sword techniques in the manual, began transcribing them according to his own understanding. Stroke by stroke, the brush danced swiftly across the surface of the scroll, sketching figures brandishing longswords—each silhouette captured in motion, one after another.

“All done.”

The scholar placed the brush into the Daoist’s hands, then grabbed a handful of snow from the ground and let it melt into water. With a sweep of his wide sleeves, he flung the clear meltwater across the scroll. As the water seeped into the paper, it left mottled spots and stains.

Out in the snowy field beyond the woods, six white-robed figures appeared out of thin air. Each wielded a longsword and began to move through sword forms, executing the various techniques depicted in the scroll.

“This actually works?”

The Daoist, cradling the inkstone, stared blankly at the dancing sword-lights. The chill in their radiance seemed to meld into the snowy landscape, forming a beautiful and haunting sight.

But Lu Liangsheng saw something far different in his eyes.

To manipulate spiritual power and animate the scroll into an illusion, it required his own hand to control it. Yet, in doing so, he was also able to draw deeper insight from the process. It was an idea he had suddenly thought to try along the way.

Clang—

Lu Liangsheng brought two fingers together and flicked them upward. The Veiled Moon Sword flashed from its scabbard, streaking a cold gleam into the air. The next moment, the inverted hilt was caught in his hand. With a leap, the scholar soared forward, pushing off the ground. Even the trees swayed from the force.

Landing in the snow outside the woods, his wide sleeves billowed as the sword in his hand traced a semicircular arc. Snow flew up around his feet, kicked into the air by the sword’s tip. As it fell again, the scholar’s robe flared behind him, and his swordplay moved like a dragon weaving through the clouds. The falling snow was abruptly halted by a horizontal sweep of the blade, drawing a long line through the air that extended several zhang before it dropped again.

One by one, the six sword-wielding illusions faded, as though their forms had melted into Lu Liangsheng’s movements. The Veild Moon Sword in his hand gradually began to glow with the spiritual essence of the [Heavens and Earth Righteous Path]. As it moved, the surrounding air stirred, and the snow on the ground began to rise, caught in the winds and swirling sword shadows, dancing about Lu Liangsheng in a circling storm.

Amidst the snowy field—the white-clad scholar and his dancing sword movements—formed a picturesque scene that drew Sun Yingxian’s gaze. He looked down at the spirit sword in his own hand, then glanced at the snow-covered scenery again, finally sighing as he sheathed his blade and slung it behind his back.

“Forget it. I’ll just stick to using talisman paper.”

Amid the flurry of swirling snowflakes, Lu Liangsheng casually thrust out a strike so elegant it bordered on artistry. The drifting snow seemed to tear in response, creating the illusion of being sliced apart by the blade.

Leaning against the tree trunk, the Daoist pulled open his gourd and took a swig of wine.

“Looks fancy, but what use is it?”

The words had barely left his mouth when the scholar in the snowfield suddenly rose into the air. The Daoist was immediately struck by a mighty, righteous aura rushing toward him, so majestic and overwhelming that the hairs on the back of his head stood on end. Even the toad couldn’t help but push open the small door of his compartment and peer out.

The setting sun cast a golden slant through the snowy forest.

Descending from above, the scholar’s gaze was calm and cold. His robes and hair danced in the wind, and the Veiled Moon Sword, caught in the rays of the dying sun, seemed to reflect a moon hidden behind drifting clouds. As it passed through the flurry of snow in Lu Liangsheng’s hand, the blade descended from the heavens.

Whoosh—The sword qi pushed aside the snow. The moment the tip touched the earth, a silent ripple spread out across the snow-covered ground, radiating outward toward the surrounding woods.

The Daoist hastily swept his sleeves, brushing away the snowflakes rushing toward him. When he looked again, the wind had ceased.

Bathed in the evening light, Lu Liangsheng stood tall, his robes gradually stilling. The snow within several zhang around him had been swept completely clean.

In front of him, the Veiled Moon Sword stood planted in the ground, humming faintly in the air.

“This sword form can mesh with all sorts of spells—guess you could call it a jack-of-all-trades technique. But running through the whole set… why does it feel like… something’s missing?”

Over yonder, the Daoist clapped his hands and called out, “Fine sword! Truly a fine sword!” Lu Liangsheng sheathed the Veild Moon Sword without a word, then reopened the sword manual with unwavering focus. After a long while, he finally gleaned a hint of the truth from the brushstrokes.

…This sword manual was a copy, not the original, and more importantly, it lacked sword intent.

Other than cultivation incantations, the only martial technique Lu Liangsheng had learned was the Qianyang Palm from the Daoist. Though he had never practiced the sword, he understood well that true swordsmanship must carry an aura of intent. Only then did it approach the true path of the sword.

The Toad Daoist glanced at the scholar’s focused profile, then slowly returned to his little compartment. He shut the tiny door, lifted the cushion, and burrowed beneath it, curling up on his side with both flippers wrapped around himself.

Mmm…

Even if he brought out all the manuals he’d hidden away over the years, none of them could withstand this kind of studying. Thinking back, why hadn’t he picked a disciple with slightly poorer innate talent…

Half an hour later, under the Daoist’s urging, Lu Liangsheng finally put away the sword manual. He had been too absorbed in reading, nearly missing the hour to enter the city.

He hung the Veiled Moon Sword back onto the bookshelf, then took the reins, continuing on the road with the Daoist.

They arrived just in time before the city gates closed. The outer streets of Tianzhi remained bustling—even after dark, foot traffic was lively.

Shops and stalls lined both sides. The shopkeepers shouted with loud voices, calling out to the passersby.

“Closing up now! Last chance if you want to buy something…”

“Flatcakes! Hot flatcakes! Fragrant and filling!”

“Dear customer—won’t you buy some rouge and powder for the young miss at home? Guaranteed to make her skin smooth and radiant like a peeled lychee…”

The crowd buzzed with voices, noisy yet vibrant.

Amid the lively market, Lu Liangsheng led the old donkey, his gaze sweeping across the scene.

Suddenly, a strange sense of dislocation swept over him, as if he were standing between two worlds.

“One land, the people live in misery… another land, flourishing with prosperity…”

At this moment, several hundred li to the north of the Chen Dynasty border, within the territory of the Northern Zhou, in the dark recess of a mountain hall—Before a four-armed divine statue, a seated figure slowly opened their eyes. With a spurt, a mouthful of blood sprayed out.

“Lu Liangsheng… To think there is such a formidable monk aiding him from the shadows. I misjudged badly…But first, I must head to the Five-Colored Manor. The thousand-year flower has long since bloomed—it’s about time it bore fruit.”

At the same time, Pudu Cihang, having returned to the ritual altar, recalled the blazing Dharma Image that had flared from the jade talisman. His eyes cracked open slightly.

“Shanzai, shanzai. This one carries too much wrath. It has already damaged my own cultivation—he must be brought to salvation swiftly.”

The karmic ties of the world are subtle and impossible to unravel. Sometimes a chance encounter sows a blessed fate, birthing a tale passed down for ages. Other times, for reasons unknown, it births a lifelong enemy…

Night deepened. Beyond the cold and silent inner city, the imperial palace shone with dazzling lights. The glow of the lanterns wove a ring of warmth.

A chess piece landed on the board with a heavy sound.

From the sound alone, one could tell—the Emperor behind the curtain was not in a good mood.