Xu Fengnian led a team of cavalry back to the palace, arriving at the courtyard where Old Kui lived. Upon entering the room, he saw a table full of delicacies – clearly someone who enjoyed neither meat without wine nor wine without joy.

Old Kui’s figure was like a small mountain. Even sitting, his imposing presence was startling, not to mention those two lock chains and two blades. Servants all hid in the courtyard, not daring to approach. Seeing Xu Fengnian, Old Kui bluntly asked, “Kid, has Yellow Old Nine gone to risk his life against Old Immortal Wang of Martial Emperor City?”

The dejected Xu Fengnian nodded, sitting on a stool opposite the snow-white-haired Old Kui, saying nothing.

The old martial man laughed, “Little kid, didn’t expect you’re actually a master who values old ties. In this regard, you’re much more honorable than your father. That butcher Xu Xiao is not only full of schemes, but also hypocritical, honey-mouthed and dagger-hearted. You can share hardships together, but if you want to share wealth and honor, forget it. Hey, little kid, angry? With your three-legged cat skills, you still want to fight me? Without Yellow Old Nine, unless the Prince of Beiliang’s palace calls out the remaining several hidden masters, only then can they battle Grandpa.”

Xu Fengnian muttered dismissively, “Only without Old Huang do you dare be the monkey who calls himself king when there’s no tiger in the mountain.”

Old Kui’s ears were sharp, but he wasn’t angry, saying freely, “Can’t beat is can’t beat – nothing shameful about it. Yellow Old Nine’s sword technique attainment is directly chasing that Deng Tai’a who likes to make a show with peach blossom branches for no reason.

Under heaven, how many learn swordsmanship? Even that Wu Family Sword Tomb, in nearly thirty years hasn’t produced a swordsman who could make Old Immortal Wang fight with both hands. Grandpa I lose to Yellow Old Nine with complete conviction. Since I was born, among sword users, besides Deng Tai’a fighting Old Immortal Wang to a draw, only Yellow Old Nine is slightly inferior. In the entire world, you can count them on one hand.”

These words from the old man earned Xu Fengnian several degrees more good feeling. He felt masters truly were masters – look at this broad-mindedness, which common folk could have? No wonder masters in the world are just that small handful. This young master’s inability to become a master is extremely reasonable and justified.

But Xu Fengnian had just started to admire him when Old Kui’s next words made his unintentionally established master image fall apart: “Kid, where’s a spacious latrine? I’m not used to these gold-and-jade-inlaid chamber pots. Been holding it in at the lake bottom all these years, couldn’t even shit or fart freely. You quickly find Grandpa a feng shui treasure spot to let it all out in one go – probably people several li away will smell it, haha!”

Watching Old Kui with mouth still stuffed with roasted meat already thinking about going to the latrine to stink people out, visit our site Xu Fengnian’s face stiffened and twitched. He stood up, called servants to lead this old fellow with chains and giant blades dragging on the ground to the toilet, while the Crown Prince himself quickly fled far away like the wind was at his feet, continuously cursing all the way “master my ass.”

Wutong Courtyard was where Xu Fengnian grew up, because the ancient saying goes “phoenix only rests on wutong trees.”

Great Pillar of State Xu Xiao always liked to say earnestly “Son, when your mother gave birth to you, she dreamed of a phoenix entering her belly. You’re naturally destined to be greatly talented. If Father doesn’t cherish you, who will?”

At first Xu Fengnian would retort “Then why hasn’t a reclusive expert said I have extraordinary bone structure and am a martial arts prodigy?” Xu Xiao would explain, “True masters all stay rooted in one place, unwilling to move. Look at that Wang Xianzhi and those old swordsmen at Wu Family Sword Tomb – which one comes out claiming to be a master? Those who come out to mix are all charlatan frauds. How could they see my son’s natural gifts?”

After Xu Fengnian’s ears became callused, he simply stopped responding to this topic, just feeling that as the Crown Prince of the dynasty’s only Prince of Different Surname, with countless servants, there was no need to roll up his sleeves and fight personally. But deep down, he still envied those great heroes who came in wind and went in clouds, scaling walls and walking on roofs, casually competing on city walls and rooftops.

As for now, having witnessed groom Old Huang and white-haired Old Kui’s heaven-reaching abilities, he inevitably felt some regret. He’d heard the martial world’s countable few divine immortal couples were all men with supreme skills and women with beauty that shamed the moon and flowers. When had anyone heard of men handsome as jade trees in wind while women had world-covering martial arts?

When Xu Fengnian entered Wutong Courtyard, this slight melancholy mood became light as clouds and wind. The head maid named Qingniao came up to greet him, the “six-year phoenix” peregrine falcon perched on her slender arms wrapped in precious Shu embroidery. Seeing the Crown Prince, she smiled sweetly, “Young master, Hongshu has already warmed the bed. Lüyi is lying on the chess table waiting for the young master to play the hidden rotten game with her.”

Xu Fengnian reached out to tease the peregrine falcon, smiling as he entered the room. In the outer room, two beautiful maids immediately removed his outer garment.

Wutong Courtyard’s four ranks totaling over twenty maids originally all had elegant names like “Honghe” and “Yingge,” but after the Crown Prince returned from his journey, except for Qingniao who was luckier, most others had their names changed. Even the head maid Honghe who’d always been most favored for her natural fragrance couldn’t escape, renamed the unbearably vulgar “Hongshu” (Sweet Potato). Others were even more unlucky – for example, one named after strong liquor became Baigan (White Spirits), and the most unfortunate was a maid who liked yellow clothing and got the nickname Huanggua (Cucumber).

Entering the inner room, Xu Fengnian jumped on the bed and burrowed into the quilt, embracing a sixteen-year-old beauty. The entire quilt was fragrant and refreshing. In a few more days it would be even more miraculous – as soon as this maid in his arms walked out the door, she’d attract bees and butterflies. This was head maid Hongshu.

The maid skilled in go across its nineteen paths was called Lüyi, called the Prince of Beiliang’s palace’s female national champion. Some honored guests skilled in board games would get headaches facing her. Ordinarily chess boards were seventeen paths – changing seventeen to nineteen was another great achievement of Xu Fengnian’s second sister, causing tremendous waves in the dynasty. Only after Shangyin Academy took the lead in accepting and promoting it did it become the mainstream among famous scholars.

Xu Fengnian played a game with Lüyi, but was absent-minded and naturally lost badly.

His chess playing actually wasn’t poor. Even Master Li Yishan commented “excellent vision, unfortunately weak at subtle positioning and layout strength.” Though this didn’t sound like praise, coming from Li Yishan’s mouth it was considerable honor.

Of course, to say Xu Fengnian was a chess board master wouldn’t be right either. The true national champion was Xu Fengnian’s second sister Xu Weixiong – she was the formidable figure who made so-called wooden fox famous scholars feel inferior.

Xu Fengnian pushed aside the long-finished endgame, lying on the bed, having head maid Hongshu massage his temples, staring blankly. Second-rank maid Lüyi, seeing the master in poor spirits, didn’t dare disturb him. After Xu Fengnian got up, he said, “You all leave first. Without my permission, even if Xu Xiao comes, don’t let him in.”

Hongshu was full-figured, skin white and beautifully plump. Combined with her natural fragrance and refined behavior, not deliberately competing for favor, she was actually most favored. When she got off the bed, Xu Fengnian smiled and patted her bottom. Her pretty face flushed red, turning back with a smile that could captivate with a hundred charms.

After the maids all left, Xu Fengnian immediately sat up properly, pulling from his breast what could probably be called sword manuals – brocade silk. This was Old Huang’s life’s work. Even if Xu Fengnian had no interest in martial arts, he had to treat it solemnly, hiding it in a box of unknown material under the bed.

To open the box required moving seventy-two small compartments in exactly the right sequence. The box was extraordinarily hard – even blade hacking or sword splitting couldn’t get what was inside. Xu Fengnian’s movements were skilled – he could open this relic from his mother even with eyes closed. Placing the sword manual inside, he pushed the box back into the secret compartment under the bed before lying back on the large bed.

Xu Fengnian estimated the time. That white-haired Old Kui should have finished squatting in the latrine by now. Getting up from the inner room, he put on his brocade garment himself and called out “Huanggua.” That maid who wished she’d never wear yellow clothes in this life immediately went to another courtyard to bring three cucumbers. Xu Fengnian held one in his hand, two under his arms, walking and munching.

At first he’d been quite worried that within one li around Old Kui’s courtyard would be unbearably stinky. Approaching, he discovered it was pure unnecessary worry. The palace latrines had countless fragrances prepared. Even if Old Kui’s shitting was as domineering as his blade-wielding, it couldn’t stink very far.

Old Kui not only finished shitting, he’d also bathed and changed into clean clothes. [Read on Jormuntl]Sitting on the steps, head down stroking the blade edge, not lifting his head he asked, “Kid, are you really not afraid?”

Xu Fengnian sat beside him, chuckling, “Old Huang said you’re not only the world’s number one blade user, but have never killed indiscriminately in your life, so I’m not afraid.”

Old Kui laughed heartily, shaking his head, “Half of that statement is true, half false. True I don’t kill randomly, but I’m not the most formidable blade user. Kid, your mouth is too slippery. I don’t like it.”

Xu Fengnian said with a cheeky grin, “As long as young ladies like me, that’s enough. Old grandpa, if you don’t like me, you don’t like me. Anyway, after beating up that turtle at Wudang Mountain, we’ll part ways. But old grandpa, if you still think fondly of the palace meals, feel free to stay and eat and drink your fill – extremely welcome.”

The old man chuckled, asking, “That Wudang Mountain patriarch uncle – approximately what rank?”

Xu Fengnian thought about it, “Shouldn’t be high. Just ridiculously high seniority. A Wudang Mountain Daoist under thirty – no matter how high, how high can he be? Moreover, there’s no reputation of him in the martial world.”

Old Kui nodded in realization, “Oh, then he should be Wudang Mountain’s sect leader Wang Chonglou’s junior martial brother, the one cultivating the Great Yellow Court barrier. Grandpa heard something when entering the cold lands back then. His martial arts aptitude is also mediocre, but he’s specialized in Daoist major arts, somewhat mysterious and marvelous.”

Xu Fengnian asked the most concerning question, “Can old grandpa beat him?”

Old Kui said freely, “Little kid, Grandpa will give you a saying – whether you can beat someone or not, you only know after fighting, right?”

Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but mentally grumble: “These words sound heroically bold, but what was the result? Didn’t he stay at the lake bottom for over a decade?”

Old Kui rapped Xu Fengnian’s head with the blade’s flat side, [Read on Jormuntl]“Don’t think Grandpa doesn’t know what you’re thinking.”

Xu Fengnian’s face piled with smiles, chuckling, “Then shall we go make a ruckus at that shitty Wudang Mountain?”

Old Kui suddenly stood, his figure completely enveloping Xu Fengnian. Two strings of lock chains clanged sonorously, “Make a ruckus!”

Wudang Mountain had two pools, four ponds, nine wells, twenty-four deep ravines, thirty-six rocks, and eighty-one peaks. Five li one hermitage, ten li one palace, vermillion walls and green tiles望玲珑 (“gazing exquisitely”). With Jade Pillar Peak’s Taizhen Palace as center, eighty-one peaks surrounded this peak and palace in bowing tilted posture, forming the famous “Eighty-One Peaks Facing the Great Summit.” For a thousand years, countless seekers of immortal dao had secluded themselves in Wudang – some sitting in forgetfulness on cliffs, some hidden in immortal coffins, listening to jade-striking and metal-clashing Sanskrit immortal music, watching mist rising and clouds surging with beautiful green mountains and waters, leaving behind countless legends.

Wudang was the previous dynasty’s Daoist holy site, firmly surpassing Dragon-Tiger Mountain. After the Liyang Dynasty’s founding, they promoted Dragon-Tiger and suppressed Wudang, thus making Dragon-Tiger Mountain the Daoist ancestral court.

Though Wudang had been silent for hundreds of years, no one dared underestimate this mountain’s thousand-year foundation. Current sect leader Wang Chonglou, though occupying a position among the Ten Great Masters, legend said he once broke through an entire surging Canglang River with one “Immortal Pointing the Way” finger technique. Whether passed down incorrectly or exaggerated, ultimately he was still a highly virtuous and respected Daoist old immortal. Especially as he cultivated Daoism’s most abstruse, most time-consuming Great Yellow Court barrier, giving the entire Wudang Mountain a kind of prolonged bearing where silence was better than sound.

Two hundred Beiliang cavalry, magnificent and grand.

One burly old martial man wore black robes, long blade dragging on ground as he ran, dust flying.

Earth-shattering.

The group charged straight toward Wudang Mountain gate’s “Dark Martial Flourishes” memorial arch.

The lead rider actually rode straight up, passing through the memorial arch before reining in the horse.

In a hundred years of martial world, those who dared so despise martial sects seemed only to be that Xu the Butcher who made old-generation martial people talk of tigers and pale.

Tiger father, dog son?

Crown Prince Xu Fengnian sitting astride a vigorous Beiliang military horse self-deprecatingly smiled, looking toward the group of Daoists attracted by this grand formation, gloomily shouting, “I give you half a shichen. Make that ox-rider get out here!”

This group of Wudang Mountain Daoists were in a difficult position. It wasn’t that they didn’t know the mountain had a patriarch uncle whose seniority was as high as Jade Pillar Peak who liked riding green oxen backward, but they were just ordinary libationer Daoists from Yuqing Palace at the mountain foot. Not to mention they couldn’t trouble that patriarch uncle, even if the patriarch uncle was agreeable, running to Taizhen Palace would take a full half shichen at fastest – round trip would be a full shichen. The visitors were aggressive – would they wait?

Before and after Jade Pillar Peak respectively stood two Great and Small Lotus Peaks. Great Lotus Peak had over ten cave-heaven blessed lands for closed-door cultivation. Small Lotus Peak with cliffs on one side was tacitly acknowledged to belong exclusively to one person.

This person was brought to the mountain at age five by the previous generation’s Wudang sect leader, accepted as closed-door disciple, becoming martial brothers with this generation’s sect leader Wang Chonglou at a young age.

Among Wudang Mountain’s nine palaces and thirteen temples, thousands of yellow-crowned Daoists, the vast majority seeing this young man had to respectfully address him as patriarch uncle. Even younger ones had to call him great-grand patriarch uncle.

Fortunately, this young patriarch had never descended the mountain. Only when entering the mountain had he seen the “Dark Martial Flourishes” memorial arch, afterward never approaching again, not even a distant glance. These twenty-plus years, most of the time if not at Jade Pillar Peak’s Taiqing Palace, he was on Great or Small Lotus Peak riding green oxen backward with crown inverted. Those lucky enough to glimpse his true face would tell people afterward that patriarch uncle had excellent temper, extremely deep learning, and extremely wonderful elegance.

Mountain gate side was noisy and bustling, but at Small Lotus Peak’s steep cliff edge by the turtle-carrying stele, it was quite quiet.

A refined-looking young Daoist lay on the stone turtle’s back sunbathing. Beckoning, a green ox grazing in the distance came forward. Ancient Daoist canon texts hung from the ox’s horns. He took down one volume, just about to peruse it, slightly calculating with fingers, he jumped off the turtle’s back, found a withered branch, and drew densely packed heavenly stems and earthly branches on the ground. His expression slightly changed, continuously muttering to himself, finally sighing heavily.

Carefully arranging his Daoist robe sleeves and collar, flipping onto the ox, riding backward, books hanging from horns, he descended Small Lotus Peak, half-chanting, half-singing, “Straight as a bowstring, die by the roadside. Curved as a hook, conversely enfeoffed as marquis. Who drags his tail through mud? Who leaves his bones in the hall…”

Leaving Small Lotus Peak, he released the green ox, carefully taking down from it a Daoist classic with cover reading Great Dao Song of Spiritual Source, walking and reading, finding it fascinating, heading straight for Wudang Mountain foot.

Along the way, occasionally Daoists would stop to call him patriarch uncle or great-patriarch uncle. He would smile and greet them, quite approachable.

Everyone felt this young senior was truly diligent, worthy of being the patriarch uncle who’d annotated countless ancient seal script unique copies in Yuqing Palace. No wonder the sect leader praised him as “will shoulder all martial arts and Daoist lineage under heaven alone.”

They didn’t know this patriarch uncle with excellent reputation was currently reading with shining eyes a most despised-by-Daoist-scholars erotic novel, just with a Great Dao Song of Spiritual Source cover pasted on it.

The Daoist kept flipping back and forth viewing just one page, because he couldn’t bear to – on the mountain there was only this one supreme classic, borrowed back then from that ill-intentioned Crown Prince. Nearing the mountain foot, having turned that one page back and forth dozens of times, only then did he reluctantly put it away, face full of righteous spirit: “Even if you beat me black and blue, this book – absolutely won’t return it!”