An Huan’s hand holding the sword couldn’t stop trembling, the sword tip was pressed against Lu Xiaochan’s tattered collar, and the cold chill made Lu Xiaochan dare not even breathe.
Before death, most would close their eyes.
But Lu Xiaochan was already blind, his eyes wide open, staring at An Huan.
The eyes of a blind man should be dull and lusterless, but these eyes were like ink jade soaked in water, clear and bright. An Huan only felt that if he struck down with his sword, it would truly be beyond redemption.
“An Huan! Why haven’t you made your move!”
The madam’s patience had run out completely, and she pushed An Huan from behind.
The sword tip instantly pierced into Lu Xiaochan’s skin, and just as it was about to penetrate deeper, a buzzing sound was heard. It was the sound of a high-quality blade being unsheathed, resonating with the bricks and tiles of this Medical Lord’s temple.
An Huan’s sword slipped from his hand and fell aside, while an immortal sword with spiritual light landed in front of Lu Xiaochan.
A stern voice rang out.
“Who dares to be presumptuous in front of Lord Liche!”
Lu Xiaochan’s fingers trembled. Had he picked up another chance at life?
Apart from the scent of incense and the fragrance of ink bamboo, Lu Xiaochan smelled a faint scent of wutong, refreshing to the heart.
The fear that came with the approach of death was also inexplicably dissolved by this fragrance.
“Who are you? How dare you be presumptuous in front of me!”
But An Huan quickly steadied himself and bowed. “It turns out to be a friend from Zhiwu Mountain Villa. We come from the Meng Family at Pengyuan Mountain, Meng Daoyuan is indeed my master. May I know who your honor is…”
Upon hearing that the other party was from Zhiwu Mountain Villa, the steward immediately showed a flattering smile and whispered into his madam’s ear. “Madam, Zhiwu Mountain Villa is a famous immortal sword sect under Nanli Jingtian, their strength is beyond what our Meng family can match. Madam…”
Madam Meng waved the steward away and whispered lowly, “Am I so ignorant as to not have heard of Zhiwu Mountain Villa?”
“I am Zhiwu Mountain Villa’s sword master, Jiang Wuchao.”
The other party declared his name with a resounding voice, and the disciples of the Meng family, who were poised to strike with their hands on the sword hilts, all bowed their heads in salute.
Seeing that Madam Meng was still unmoved, the steward quickly approached her.
“Madam! The sword masters of each sect are the chief disciples of the sect leader and are to succeed as the next leader! Moreover, the master of Zhiwu Mountain Villa has cultivated for thirteen hundred years and is highly respected among all immortal sects. We cannot afford to offend them.”
The implication was that the future leader of such a significant sect would undoubtedly be formidable. Even if all the disciples Madam Meng brought were to attack together, Jiang Wuchao could crush them without drawing his sword.
“It is an honor for An Huan and all his fellow brothers to witness Brother Jiang’s Minglan Sword today. To fight in front of Lord Liche’s statue was an impulsive offense on our part. We hope Brother Jiang will be magnanimous.”
Jiang Wuchao lifted his right fingertip slightly, and the Minglan Sword blocking Lu Xiaochan flew back into its sheath.
The sword moved against the wind, making a sound like a distant tide that never ceased, no wonder it was named “Minglan.” (TL: ‘鸣’=cry,sound; ‘澜’=waves, billows)
Lu Xiaochan was still lying on the ground, not out of fear, but because the spot where he had been stabbed in his chest hurt so much that he hadn’t recovered yet.
Since someone from Zhiwu Mountain Villa had arrived, his life was most likely saved.
It was said that Ling Nianwu, the sect leader of Zhiwu Mountain Villa who had cultivated for more than thirteen hundred years, fell seriously ill in his teenage years. None of the famous doctors could cure him, and even trying the flesh and blood of various spiritual beasts did not help, he grew weaker by the day.
Just when his parents were preparing for his funeral with tears in their eyes, Liche, who was then an unknown little medical boy staying at their villa, saved his life. That was how Zhiwu Mountain Villa thrived for over a thousand years as an immortal sect.
Therefore, whenever disciples from Zhiwu Mountain Villa encountered anyone disrespecting Lord Liche, they would intervene.
Jiang Wuchao clearly did not take the Meng family seriously and said loudly, “If Madam Meng still wishes to worship the Medical Lord, then sincerely burn incense and pray. If you have lost interest, then leave early to make way for other villagers.”
“Hmph, the offerings I brought have all been stolen by this beggar, what else is there to pray for! Let’s go!”
With that said by Madam Meng, the people below hurriedly took the incense and offerings they had prepared and followed her.
As Madam Meng passed by Jiang Wuchao, he suddenly raised his sword, blocking her path with the hilt.
“Madam Meng, I have a word of advice.”
“Oh? I wonder what further instruction the Sword Master has to bestow?”
“Madam harbors a heavy malevolence. If you persist in this obsession, the journey back from Lushu to Pengyuan Mountain will take at least three days. You must be careful of evil spirits invading.”
Madam Meng’s eyebrows raised slightly as she said coldly, “Is Sword Master Jiang the master of Zhiwu Mountain Villa or our Pengyuan Mountain? I conduct myself with integrity, and I am accompanied by many disciples. Why should I fear malevolent spirits!”
After speaking, she left with a flick of her sleeve.
Once Madam Meng left, the villagers who had been waiting outside and were drenched in sweat from the sun rushed in.
Some offered incense while others arranged offerings, it was busier than a temple fair.
Lu Xiaochan was almost trampled but was fortunately picked up by Jiang Wuchao.
“This little brother, hiding inside the statue of True Lord Liche to steal offerings may be understandable, but it is a great disrespect to the Immortal Sage. Do not do this again.”
Lu Xiaochan touched the pierced area on his chest and whispered softly, “Lord Liche has passed away, he did not ascend to immortality. Whether respected or not, he wouldn’t know…”
Jiang Wuchao was stunned for a moment, then laughed.
“Little brother, you also know about the legend of Lord Liche?”
Judging by Jiang Wuchao’s tone of voice, Lu Xiaochan could tell he was open-hearted and not one to fuss over trivial matters, he felt quite fond of him.
“The legend I heard goes like this—In our world, there are four sword sects: Dongxu, Xiyuan, Nanli, and Beiming. Each of the four sword sects governs their respective sword pavilions. Back then, an evil spirit named Chaos took residence within Dongxu Sword Sect and wreaked havoc upon the common people.”
The words “Dongxu Sword Sect” caused Jiang Wuchao’s shoulders to tense.
“Besides the four directions, there is also the central Wuyi Jingtian. The possessed Dongxu Sword Sect broke into Wuyi Jingtian, intending to draw down the Sword Sea of Heavens. If he succeeded, it would have been catastrophic for all living beings. Therefore, the leaders of various sects ascended to Wuyi Jingtian and sealed the evil spirit within Dongxu Sword Sect.”
Jiang Wuchao stood frozen in place, this battle had occurred over a thousand years ago.
Many of the immortal leaders who knew about the possession of Dongxu Sword Sect were no longer around. How did this little beggar know?
“This battle was earth-shattering and moved both ghosts and gods! All four sword sects perished, except for the sword sect of Wuyi Jingtian’s Yang Cang. Medical Lord Liche was originally there accompanying Yang Cang, but unexpectedly, the possessed by evil spirits Dongxu Sword Sect came knocking! Liche sacrificed himself to protect Yang Cang, who was in seclusion…right?”
Jiang Wuchao narrowed his eyes and grabbed Lu Xiaochan’s shoulder. “Where did you hear this from?”
“Ow! Ow! You’re hurting me!” Lu Xiaochan’s eyes and nose scrunched up together, “Of course, I heard it from a storyteller! In our Lushu, who hasn’t heard this story!”
Jiang Wuchao released Lu Xiaochan’s shoulder with suspicion.
“A storyteller? What happened next in the story?”
“What happened next?” Lu Xiaochan tugged at the corner of his mouth, “If you treat me to wine, I’ll tell you the rest of the story!”
“Hmph.” Jiang Wuchao smiled, “Since in Lushu this story is known to everyone, I can simply find someone else to tell it to me without wasting money on wine.”
A sly smile crossed Lu Xiaochan’s mind, then go find someone else to tell you!
Lu Xiaochan got up and staggered towards the temple entrance.
Before he could leave, he stepped on an offering fruit that had been overturned by Meng family’s disciples earlier and fell flat on his face.
Such bad luck! Truly bad luck!
He got up, stumbling around. The villagers coming in to burn incense despised him for being dirty and no one was willing to help him up, he fell several more times.
Although Jiang Wuchao did not like Lu Xiaochan’s nature of taking small advantages, he still found a bamboo stick and handed it to him.
“Thanks. We shall meet again!” Lu Xiaochan looked at Jiang Wuchao and grinned.
Jiang Wuchao was stunned. This little beggar was filthy all over, but his eyes were clear as crystal.
How could one not see?
Such a pity.
Lu Xiaochan tapped his bamboo stick and made his way familiarly to the eaves of Wusi Wine Shop in town.
These past few days at Medical Lord’s temple, although food and drink were provided aplenty, it lacked Wusi Wine Shop’s “Drunken Life Dream Death.” Even if fragrant osmanthus fresh-brewed chicken entered his stomach, it wasn’t as satisfying.
In his life, Lu Xiaochan never yearned for fame or fortune.
It was common for him not to have enough food or shelter from wind and rain.
What he longed for in this life was to drink an entire jar of “Drunken Life Dream Death.” He was always carefree and slept well, but no matter how sweet his dreams were, he could never see the person he wanted to see. However, after drinking “Drunken Life Dream Death,” he could see that cold moonlit immortal figure.
This went back to when he fell seriously ill at eight or nine years old.
In the midst of strong winds and heavy rain, the old beggar who had taken him in held him shivering under the eaves of a wine shop.
Just by the window, a waiter was tidying up the table when the old beggar pleaded with him to give him the leftovers from the guests, even a sip of cold soup would do.
The waiter, while the boss wasn’t looking, casually dumped the plate of peanuts out of the window.
The boss, who never liked beggars sheltering under his eaves, scolded the waiter for what he was doing.
In a panic, the waiter also splashed out the pot of wine left over by the guests, claiming he was pouring out leftover tea to avoid the trouble of carrying it back and forth and dirtying the floor of the tavern.
That splash of wine just happened to land on Lu Xiaochan’s face.
At that moment, Lu Xiaochan, who was feverish and delirious, licked up a taste of “Drunken Life Dream Death.”
The flavor was cool and not spicy, instantly resolving his high fever.
His body sank, his soul was hooked out from within, and when he opened his eyes again, the vicissitudes of life reversed, and he dreamed back a thousand years.
Under a cold moon stood a figure in plain robes.
Serene and solitary.
That was the only thing Lu Xiaochan had ever seen since birth, sadly only in dreams.
In Lu Xiaochan’s dreams was a youth, with bottles and jars hanging all over his body, with a white jade medicine pot tied to his waist. On the pot was carved a turtle that seemed alive, slowly crawling on its surface.
When the youth laughed, Lu Xiaochan felt happy in his dream, when the youth was petulant, Lu Xiaochan also felt troubled in his dream as if it were another self from long ago.
The youth ran eagerly towards that shadow under the moonlight, leaping up to embrace it from behind. But he was met with a cold voice. “Presumptuous.”
In an instant, the pressure of heaven and earth bore down, crushing his spirit; he felt he could hardly breathe.
“You are so dull! It’s bad enough you’re dull by yourself, but I came to your Wuyi Jingtian as your guest. Not even a pleasant look…” He lowered his head and kicked at a pebble in front of him.
The pebble bounced up, almost touching the other’s heel.
The youth secretly rejoiced in his heart, as if getting even a speck of dust on the other’s clothes was a matter of joy.
Yet before the corners of his mouth could curl up in delight, that tiny stone shattered into dust under the other’s spiritual pressure and dispersed.
The youth rolled his eyes and sat down on the ground, taking a flask of medicine from his waist, uncorking it, and taking a big gulp.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, I just wanted you to taste my newly brewed medicinal drink!”
The other party acted as if they hadn’t heard him at all, motionless.
“Its name is—‘Wine Collides with Immortal’! Interesting, right?”
“No wine in the world can intoxicate you, but this medicinal drink contains a spiritual herb called ‘As One Desires’. It’s not wine, but it can intoxicate immortals! It can also expose your innermost desires after you’re drunk!”
The youth excitedly unfurled a blank scroll. “I found this ‘Mirror Flower, Water Moon’ in your Sword Intent Pavilion! Anyone standing in front of ‘Mirror Flower, Water Moon’, the scroll will reflect their current inner thoughts!”
The figure remained indifferent.
“Do you dare to bet with me? Drink my ‘Wine Collides with Immortal’, stand in front of ‘Mirror Flower, Water Moon’, and let me see if you truly have no desires?”
The youth got up holding the flask and offered it out, but the other party didn’t even give him a glance.
The man in plain clothes passed by the youth indifferently. Just as the youth was about to jump up to see the other’s face, he was effortlessly pressed down by the hand that reached out.
By the time he looked up again, he still couldn’t see the other’s face.
“Ah—what’s so good about cultivating immortality! Suppressing emotions and desires! Emptiness in everything! You were born with a handsome face that others can’t see. What harm would there be if you turned around and let me have a look!”
He talked at length to that silhouette, his mouth dry from talking without receiving any response.
After thinking for a long time, he finally came up with a question that might elicit a response from the other party.
“People can become immortals or Buddhas but can never become gods. Do you know why?”
“Why?” (TL: 为何)
Just two words, yet it seemed as if frost had spread across all four surrounding cliffs.
