The Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea, Part Two (Newly Revised)
Along the road leading to Black Mountain, Elaeocarpus decipiens is planted in an orderly fashion. Every four or five dark green leaves are accompanied by a unique crimson leaf.
One tree after another, their crowns adorned with red, creating a vibrant scene reminiscent of festive decorations at the end of the year. The display stretched out until it disappeared from sight.
Beyond the rows of Elaeocarpus decipiens, there is a continuous stream of Forsythia suspensa. The bright yellow and green Forsythia suspensa flowers bend the dark green branches, but the degree of bending varies, and the tangled branches hang in different directions, like an extremely wide, golden waterfall.
Behind the dense green branches, the faint sound of flowing water could be heard.
In the very center of the road, a fine horse galloped along, kicking up a cloud of flying stones in its wake.
Pei Jiangxi sat upright on the horse, one hand holding the reins and the other covering her mouth as she yawned. The horse, however, was galloping at full speed.
Today, I slept until noon before slowly making my way, and the horse was already getting impatient.
Ahead, under the shade of a Chinese tallow tree, was a group of monks walking. Pei Jiangxi gently pulled on the reins and slowly passed by them.
Having surpassed everyone else, she pushed off with her legs and spurred the horse to gallop again.
"Master, this horse is terrifying."
A childish voice faintly came from behind, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of falling pebbles.
Continuing forward, they came upon several wagons laden with hay. The wagons moved slowly, and Pei Jiangxi easily overtook them without much trouble.
A man and a horse galloped among the ever-changing fields of Elaeocarpus decipiens and Forsythia suspensa. No matter how fast they ran, the scenery around them remained unchanged.
Even the wind blowing in your face feels exactly the same, and the sun overhead doesn't move an inch.
The waterfall adorned with forsythia was the first to come to an end. The sound of water ahead became breathtaking, as the stream meandered down between massive rocks, gathering into a pool of emerald green water on the left side of the road.
Like natural jade.
Soon, the seemingly endless lines of Du Ying's hair appeared to have reached their end. Pei Jiangxi finally arrived at the foot of Black Mountain. The end of this journey was also, in a true sense, the beginning.
From here on, you can only walk.
To the left of the entrance is a small, exquisite four-cornered pavilion, its space empty without any stone benches. The inscription on the pavilion's stone pillars reads: "Surrounded by mountains on all sides, two streams flow; a pool of stars and moon illuminates the solitary pavilion."
The stone steps leading up the mountain were wet and damp. Two dark golden mountain monkeys stood one in front of the other, watching the uninvited guests at the foot of the mountain.
Pei Jiangxi saw the mountain monkey silently mobilizing all its muscles and slowly opening its mouth.
Before they even started yelling, a thunderous sound echoed along the road Pei Jiangxi had come from. It was the sound of horses' hooves and wheels grinding against the gravel.
There were six lean, excellent horses, not particularly tall. Three were black and three were white, and together they pulled a huge carriage, speeding over at breakneck speed.
The carriage was parked in front of the Four-Corner Pavilion, its body completely obscuring the pavilion. From Pei Jiangxi's position, the pavilion was no longer visible.
Following closely behind were two squads of fully armed soldiers, one on the left and one on the right, each riding a gleaming brown horse. They cautiously observed Pei Jiangxi, who had arrived first, and slowly came to a stop on either side of the carriage.
The two soldiers nimbly dismounted and knelt beside the carriage, their backs slightly bent.
As if hearing the noise, a slender, pale hand reached out from the carriage and lifted the glossy curtain. As the folds appeared, the taotie embroidered on the curtain seemed to come alive, its face contorting.
The man who emerged from the carriage was none other than Zhao Zheng, the current prime minister.
Since you've come here in person, you must be determined to win this sword-testing tournament.
However, Pei Jiangxi has already devised a plan to remove his right-hand men, so it remains to be seen how he will lead the election of the alliance leader.
Zhao Zheng stepped onto the backs of the soldiers and dismounted from the carriage. He then leisurely walked around to the other side of the carriage, smiling and offering a hand for the passengers to lean on as they got off.
Then three people got off the carriage.
The first person was emaciated, his hands resembling withered branches of a diseased tree, the veins on the back of his hands clearly visible, slightly purplish.
The second person to emerge from the car was more than twice the size of the one being led. He cradled his round belly with one hand, like a woman about to give birth. His disheveled hair and beard, however, revealed a chilling aura.
This last man, with his sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, had a radiant smile that surpassed even that of a successful young man.
Pei Jiangxi knew that these three people were the three great gods enshrined at the top of Ping'an Temple. They were "Sword Demon" Jia Dongye, "Sword God" Liu Mengde, and "Sword Saint" Wang Wenfang. The three swordsmen of Peach Blossom Spring had reappeared in the mortal world, and it had been more than thirty years since they had been seen.
The simultaneous appearance of two of the three major sword sects is unprecedented. Right now, before Pei Jiangxi's eyes, the master of the Longevity Palace is leading a swordsman from Peach Blossom Spring alighting from his carriage.
Although it was only for a moment, Pei Jiangxi noticed a brief moment of relief on the tense faces of the soldiers. She turned to look to her right rear and saw a group of monks approaching.
The monks walked forward, hands clasped together, lips moving softly as they chanted Buddhist scriptures. The leading monks, dressed in solemn robes, held prayer beads in their hands.
It is the arrival of the eminent monks from Xinyuan Temple.
Everyone present bowed to them. Of course, except for the three old men from Peach Blossom Spring.
Wang Wenfang observed the group of monks with great interest.
The monks' procession stopped to the right front of Pei Jiangxi, quite a distance from the carriage.
Soon, a different sound came from the road. It was the languid gait of a lean horse and the slow turning of its wheels. Like the sluggish sound of a stream, faint yet continuous.
That was quite a large caravan. They were horse-drawn wagons transporting goods, piled high with hay.
The groom pulled a handful of grass from behind and fed it directly to the skinny horse pulling the cart. The horse snorted heavily, its breathing rhythmic as it chewed incessantly. It ate as it walked, leaving behind clumps of round, bluish dung.
The carriage also stopped to Pei Jiangxi's right. People were lying in the haystack, legs crossed. Only after the carriage came to a complete stop did these people sit up from the haystack.
There was a man in the first carriage. He wore patched clothes, his beard was tangled, and his arms and calves bore patches of what could be mud or sewage. In his hand he held the Beggars' Sect's heirloom—a long staff. This man was undoubtedly Du Taibai, the new leader of the Beggars' Sect.
Two people rose from the haystack behind him on the carriage.
Another person, also dressed in patched clothes, was neatly dressed. His appearance and demeanor were clean and presentable. This man had met Pei Jiangxi once before at Xieyue Mountain; he was Xiangyu, a disciple of the monk Wunian. He had now switched allegiance and joined the Beggars' Sect.
The other person was well-dressed, wearing expensive fabrics. He had deep-set, prominent features, with a hint of fierceness between his brows.
He is Nangong Lingguang.
Following closely behind the three of them, people in the middle and rear of the caravan also jumped down from the carriages. The Beggars' Sect members started talking all at once, and the foot of Black Mountain suddenly became lively.
On the other side of the road, the soldiers frowned even more deeply, smelling the stench of horse manure and listening to the chaotic noise.
Suddenly, three horses swept past Pei Jiangxi and galloped ahead of her, closer to the shade of the trees at the foot of the mountain. The pink tassel of a sword flashed in her eyes.
Under the shade of a tree lay a huge rock with inscriptions on its surface, though the rock was covered in moss and the inscriptions were no longer visible. Only the four characters "Huang Hai Bo Ping" (meaning "The Yellow Sea is Calm") were clearly visible at the top. Xin Ruien and his two companions gathered by the rock, and as soon as they dismounted, a light and melodious laugh, like the gentle breeze after a rain, drifted over, soothing and refreshing.
The solemn expressions on the officers' and soldiers' faces eased somewhat.
"Giddy up!" The shouts of the horsemen could be heard even before the riders arrived.
The arrival of chivalrous heroes one after another gave them no chance to catch their breath.
It was a richly decorated carriage. As it passed Pei Jiangxi, it kicked up a cloud of dust that completely engulfed her and her horse.
The magnificent carriage was parked right in the center of the group of people.
"Young Master," Xia Zhi called out, "from here on, we can only walk."
A few moments later, there was movement inside the carriage. First, Chen Changji clumsily jumped down from the carriage, staggering forward a couple of steps. Then, a clanging sound came from inside the carriage as Li Letian jumped down and landed steadily on the ground.
Their gazes didn't linger on Pei Jiangxi for long. After scanning the crowd, they both looked towards the path leading up the mountain.
The two mountain monkeys that had been spying on Pei Jiangxi had disappeared without a trace.
A terrifying shriek echoed from the sky.
Only when Pei Jiangxi stretched out her arm did the eagle circling above Black Mountain descend to meet everyone's gaze. She calmly unfolded the thin sheet of paper; it was A Yu's handwriting, and neatly written at the top:
Liu Langxian went to find the sword. Lin Zhenna and Xiang Wuyi have safely returned to the pavilion.
At this moment, Pei Jiangxi and Zhao Zheng's eyes truly met for the first time.
Pei Jiangxi saw that Zhao Zheng's eyes were full of smug satisfaction. Zhao Zheng only saw a still pool of water; Pei Jiangxi's eyes were devoid of any emotion.
Su Yishan also noticed the girl who kept company with the eagle.
Pei Jiangxi raised her hand above her head, palm down, and waved to Su Yishan.
He Zi'an walked in another direction, a smile on his face, and passed through the solemn soldiers to reach Zhao Zheng.
Shin Rui-en watched their backs, unsure which way to go. Just as she lifted her foot slightly, a rough, large hand reached out in front of her.
The hand was clenched tightly, and a pink tassel peeked out from the swirl of the little finger. The fist slowly opened, and lying quietly in the palm was a spotless sword tassel.
A pink, spotless sword tassel that belongs only to her.
Shin Rui-en's gaze moved upwards from the man's palm; she had some impression of this man.
"Miss Xin, here's your fallen sword tassel!" Li Letian said excitedly. "I've also come to participate in the sword-testing competition."
“It’s you.” Xin Ruien remembered, and at this moment the man’s name and appearance slowly overlapped: “You are the little blacksmith from Sword Forging City, and you are the sword boy who participated in the tournament.”
“It’s me.” Li Letian’s face flushed red.
"That's amazing."
Behind Li Letian, Su Yishan was walking towards Pei Jiangxi.
Further away, on a road unseen by most, caravans of carriages and horses were making their way towards Black Mountain, heading towards a grand gathering that might change their destiny.
The dust storm rose up, obscuring the sky.
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