"Good sword." She spoke with difficulty, her throat filled with a tallic taste. Just now, Yang Guo had used only a fraction of his strength, yet it was enough to make her internal organs churn.
Guo Fu gently applauded, her laughter crisp: "Master Kui, back in the day, my husband used this wooden sword to defeat the Golden Wheel Dharma King."
Yang Guo smiled faintly, the wooden sword slipping into his sleeve: "Master, you let us win. Rember our one-year agreent." With that, he turned and left hand in hand with Guo Fu, disappearing into the misty twilight.
Master Kui stood watching the direction of their departure, motionless for a long ti.
The mountain wind carried snowflakes, landing on her stiff fingertips. In a daze, she seed to see again the sword light cutting through the twilight—realizing that a truly supre sword technique never needed complicated moves, just one sword was enough to make the world lose its color.
…
…
"Zhenzhen, Daoist Gu has gone to Ba Mountain. You should go with him and cultivate for a year. His Seventy-seven Fourty-nine Hands Back Wind Willow Sword Technique is truly the pinnacle of swordsmanship. Only by comprehending this technique can you truly unleash the power of the Purple Qi Origin Sect." Yang Guo said to the gentle young lady Hua Zhenzhen.
"Hmm, but where has Daoist gone, can you tell , Great Hero Yang?"
"If he doesn't want to be seen, you won't find him no matter where you look. Why bother asking?"
"Alright then." Hua Zhenzhen was sowhat disappointed, then bid farewell to Yang Guo, preparing to go to Ba Mountain to find Daoist Gu.
Daoist Gu was also a curious figure, being a chess friend of the naless Daoist.
Although Daoist Gu enjoyed playing chess, few could play with him because he had a strange habit: anyone who won against him would be killed with the chessboard, and afterwards, Daoist Gu would say, "Goodness, goodness," and greatly regret it.
Over the years, only the naless Daoist could win against Daoist Gu without being hit by the chessboard.
The naless Daoist had no na or surna.
However, Daoist Gu had explained the background of the naless Daoist.
He said the other party is "Supre."
This Supre isn't referring to Lord Lao Zi of the Great Monad.
Actually, The Three Pure Ones are all Supres. Supre Primordial Heavenly Venerate, Supre Lingshuang Heavenly Venerable, Supre Taoist Heavenly Venerate.
Supre is a "title."
It refers to the path of utmost tranquility, the ancient naless lord.
After Hua Zhenzhen left.
Yang Guo looked at Guo Fu beside him, "Xiang'er is at Ei, Daoist Gu has gone to Ba Mountain, they're quite close. With him looking out for her, you needn't worry about Xiang'er entering the Demon Path of the Esoteric Sect."
"Alas, I should have t her."
"Matters of the heart, you can deceive others but not yourself. When I celebrated her birthday back then, I truly wanted you to hold in high regard. Alas…"
The couple looked at each other silently.
After a long ti, Guo Fu suddenly said: "Husband, why hasn't Po Tian co ho yet."
"He secretly left Huashan."
"Ah, he's still so young."
"These years I've refined the Despondent Soul Demise Palm into a Great Nine Heavens Hand, and Po Tian has already mastered it. In terms of palm power today, few can surpass him. Young people, when they have skills, find it hard to endure solitude. Let him go out and experience the world." Yang Guo said softly.
He once was young too, so he understood Po Tian's mindset well.
This child was not born to the two of them, but picked up at the foot of Huashan, yet had a remarkable talent for martial arts, and was born with a unique water and fire harmonizing inner strength.
It was this child that led to Yang Guo's eting with the naless Daoist.
The Daoist also said Po Tian was the "reincarnation of Buddha," opposing him as an ancestor of the Taoist sect.
However, Po Tian was simple-hearted and always claid he had a mother, thus refused to call Guo Fu his mother.
But Guo Fu always treated him as her own son.
Even in the past two years, when the couple had another child, their love for Po Tian did not diminish in the slightest.
Of course, what Yang Guo liked most was Po Tian's excellent cooking skills.
Strangely, though the naless Daoist said Po Tian was a reincarnation of Buddha, Po Tian made especially delicious roasted at, never shying away from killing.
But he did seem naturally kind-hearted, his eyes full of compassion.
Speaking of which, his foster sister Cheng Ying adopted a young child a few years back, has begun to teach them martial arts from Peach Blossom Island, and even gave them the surna Yang.
After receiving her letter, Yang Guo didn't dare to reply.
It's all karma.
…
…
The ancient road of Huashan.
A young boy humd a little tune while stepping on gravel, followed by a big yellow dog.
Suddenly, hearing the clang of tal at the corner of the mountain path, he raised an eyebrow and leaped onto an old pine tree by the cliff—seeing eighteen red-clothed lamas forming a strange formation, with copper gongs and Demon-Subduing Pestles shining layers of golden light, trapping a white-haired old man in the center.
The old man's single robe was stained with blood, and with each punch, a wave of energy surged, shaking leaves within a three-zhang radius into dust.
But the lamas' moves ca in inexhaustible waves, and the sound of the copper gongs mixed with an entrancing chant, shaking the old man until the webbing between his thumb and forefinger burst, blood beads seeped through his fingers, splashing onto the bluestone slabs and quickly condensing into a dark purple.
"What domineering external power!" The young boy's eyes lit up.
He had heard from his adoptive father, the Divine Eagle Hero, about figures in the martial world, and recognized from the moves that the old man was the "Great Sorrow" Old Man, famous for the Great Sorrow Palm Technique that shook the nine provinces. Yet now, his moves, though fierce, were already disordered, obviously at the end of his strength.
A shrill whistle suddenly sounded within the lama formation, and eighteen Magic Artifacts simultaneously struck down towards the old man's head with a sound like thunder.
In this critical mont, the young boy touched down and sprang forward. Though his hand hadn't touched the lamas, nine strands of dark strength shot from his sleeve, each with an explosive fusion of ice and fire.
The lead lama's pupils shrank, the copper gong still raised, but the energy force drove them flying backwards, smashing against the rocky wall and spitting a mouthful of fresh blood.
The remaining lamas were greatly frightened, abruptly retreating three zhang.
The boy stood before the old man, intertwining cold from his sleeve with heat from his palm, defending him with intense and domineering palm power.
"Little child..." The Great Sorrow Old Man staggered one step, his turbid eyes fixedly staring at the red and blue True Qi swirling in Yang Po Tian's palm, "Your hands...are even more domineering than my Great Sorrow Palm…"
Before the words fell, the eighteen lamas had regrouped, their Magic Artifacts igniting a ghostly blue fla.
The boy exerted both palms, palm power pouring forth, the ancient road whipping up a fierce gale.
His Great Nine Heavens Hand harbored the two energies of Yin and Yang, the left hand's cold ice froze three zhang of air, the right hand's blaze made gravel crackle, the clash of ice and fire producing a sky-shattering roar. The lamas' Fla Array was instantly torn apart, three were frozen into ice sculptures, five were reduced to charred remains, the rest rolled and crawled into the dense forest.
"Thank you, young friend…" The Great Sorrow Old Man leaned against a tree trunk, slowly sliding down to sit, a wheezing sound issuing from his throat like a broken bellows, "I intended to save this martial power to settle matters with those Tibetan Secret baldy monks…"
He trembled as he opened his clothes, revealing a chest covered in sword scars, each wound exuding a strange bluish-black, "They used Poisonous Gu… I won't last much longer…"
The boy squatted, and when his fingertip touched the old man's pulse, it was shaken back by a chilling aura.
The Great Sorrow Old Man suddenly burst into manic laughter, pulled out an oily cloth package: "Inside...is my lifeti's effort...if you don't mind, just treat it as…" A cough interrupted him, bloody foam trickled down his lips, the old man's pupils gradually unfocused, "Rember...within the clay figure hides Shaolin Temple…"
The package fell into the boy's arms as the Great Sorrow Old Man's hand turned cold.
The boy sighed.
It was his first ti seeing a dead person while at Huashan.
However, before being taken in by Yang Guo, he had wandered the martial world and seen much tragedy, so though he felt regret over the old man's death, he adjusted quickly.
He took off his overcoat to cover the old man's body, dug a hole nearby, and buried the old man.
As for those lamas, he dug a hole and buried them too.
After finishing these tasks, he thought of the Great Sorrow Old Man's dying words, saying the oily cloth package contained sothing from Shaolin Temple…
"This must be sothing Shaolin Temple lost. Since the Great Sorrow Old Man was concerned about it on his deathbed, I should help him return it." The boy thought, stowing the package away, heading to the town below the mountain, asked the direction to Shaolin Temple, and set off towards it.
…
…
"The abbot of Shaolin Temple, Master Tianhu, mysteriously died in his ditation room, and his corpse bore a strange smile."
This news spread, startling the martial world.
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