Chapter 240 The Sword Technique of the Poor Scholar
It's empty.
The Jia-character sword furnace room, which had captured the hearts and minds of all parties involved, was finally empty.
Ouyang Rong, Wei Shaoxuan, Liu Zilin, and the others silently turned around and walked out the door.
It was just past noon.
Above the sword furnace room halfway up the mountain, the clear blue sword energy that had been shooting straight into the sky suddenly vanished without a trace.
It was as if it had never existed.
White clouds, blue sky, and bright sunshine.
The people who came out of the sword furnace room one after another did not notice that the old man in hemp clothing was carrying a metal square seal in his hand when he threw himself into the furnace with his back turned.
They vanished in an instant.
They are still digesting the true name of the new cauldron sword left by the old swordsmith.
"Craftsmanship... Interesting."
Wei Shaoxuan nodded excitedly.
Qiu Shenji slung the Mo family sword case over his shoulder, glanced at his crooked right shoulder, and, as if feeling that his shoulders were uneven, shook them, then suddenly nodded:
"The sword energy in the box is so heavy."
The man in hemp clothing turned his head and said again:
"Sixth Brother, remember this sword name. Before the Ding Sword entered the world and met a powerful sword master, it was too influenced by the swordsmith."
"The true name chosen by the swordsmith is the complete meaning of this sword, and even the sword techniques that may be born later can be glimpsed from the true name."
"Thank you for your guidance, godfather. What a fine piece of craftsmanship, so understated."
Wei Shaoxuan looked at the sword box on Qiu Shenji's back, nodded with great satisfaction, and reached out to touch the cool wooden body of the sword box.
Liu Zilin and Liu Fu, standing nearby, quickly offered their congratulations.
However, the group failed to notice the surprised expressions on Ouyang Rong and A Qing's faces behind them.
This strange cauldron and sword, is it called "Craftsmanship"? It seems so familiar.
Ouyang Rong frowned and turned his head.
It's like... encountering the most challenging question on an exam in a past life, only to discover that you've already reviewed it yesterday and know the answer.
But right now, the important thing isn't knowing the answer in advance.
Rather, it's about what this event itself represents.
Ouyang Rong silently turned his head and exchanged a glance with the pretty young girl who had previously received a gift from the old swordsmith and whom he had dismissed as the old man's wicked humor.
"master……"
Aqing reached into her sleeve and groped for something, hesitating to speak. Ouyang Rong frowned and shook his head, interrupting her.
"You two behave yourselves."
Liu Zilin suddenly turned his head, startling the two of them.
Ouyang Rong grasped A Qing's hand, lowered his eyes, and coughed.
Wei Shaoxuan ignored them completely, and enthusiastically flipped through the ancient Sanskrit Buddhist scripture in his hand:
"Godfather, the old man just said this is the sword technique of the 'poor scholar,' is that true or not? Why is it a Buddhist scripture?"
Qiu Shenji pondered:
"That's normal. Sword techniques are created by the legendary swordsmen of each Ding Sword in history after comprehending the true meaning of the Ding Sword. They come in all sorts of forms."
"It could be a mantra, a folk song, a poem, or even a painting; anything is possible."
"It's not surprising that the sword manual of the poor scholar is a Buddhist scripture."
"It should be related to the Donglin Temple next door."
According to the book, the "Humble Scholar" was born in the Eastern Jin Dynasty four hundred years ago, and was the fifth Dingjian in history.
"If I remember correctly, this Donglin Temple was also built around the time of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, and Donglin Temple originally possessed a legendary secret lineage."
"The Ding Sword and any sword manual are important conditions for advancing the sword wielder's meridians."
"Since the Northern and Southern Dynasties, Donglin Temple has been famous for this mythical bloodline. In addition to its close relationship with the Mei family and other sword-making families in Butterfly Creek, the core of the sect may be this sword manual called 'The Poor Scholar'."
"However, we went to see it a few days ago and found that Donglin Temple's lineage had long been severed. As for how the 'Humble Scholar's' sword technique ended up in the hands of this old gentleman, we have no idea."
Wei Shaoxuan seemed to be deep in thought, then after a moment, he laughed heartily:
"Never mind, godfather, let's accept it. We didn't expect the old gentleman to give us such a generous gift before he left."
He put away the Buddhist scriptures and flicked his wide, snow-white sleeves:
"Let's change the plan slightly and try it out first. Sanskrit? Then let's go to Donglin Temple and find a monk to translate it. If that doesn't work, we'll stick to the plan and continue back to the capital to observe Emperor Wen."
With the swordsmith gone, he acquired the Ding Sword, and unexpectedly gained a precious sword manual. Moreover, he had a godfather who was a high-level Qi cultivator accompanying him to protect him.
Wei Shaoxuan stood on the lawn in the mountain breeze, his hair flying everywhere, and took a deep breath.
Full of vigor and high spirits.
At this moment, Ouyang Rong suddenly spoke:
"Young Master Wei, once you've had your fun, don't forget the old man's dying wish: release Aqing and send her down the mountain."
"Who gives you the right to interrupt?" Liu Zilin grabbed Ouyang Rong's collar.
He then suddenly turned his head and said obsequiously:
“Young Master Wei, this boy is truly hateful. Since Mr. Qiu is unable to take action, and you, Young Master, have a bright future ahead of you, it's not wise to get your hands dirty…”
"Leave it to me. You go and do your work. I'll take care of it for you. And this little girl named Aqing, I'll send someone to take her down the mountain right away."
Liu Zilin turned around and stared fiercely into Ouyang Rong's eyes again:
"Killing you so easily would be too good for you, kid. I want to make you wish you were dead before I can finally vent my hatred!"
Ouyang Rong's expression remained calm, his eyes slightly lowered:
"You talk too much nonsense."
Ah Qing looked at the master's expression with a haggard face. Ever since the master suddenly vomited blood in the sword shop, he had always had this calm yet worrying expression.
Even when they were about to blow up the sword furnace, they were captured one-sidedly on the mountain road by that man in hemp clothing who seemed to have descended from the heavens like a war god, the master remained calm, showing no sign of sorrow or joy.
Especially after participating in stabbing Liu Zian in the sword furnace room, the master seemed to become even more... calm.
The only unusual thing was that he was not very willing to face her and his mother.
Liu Zilin grinned maliciously: "You'll be begging for mercy soon enough."
Ouyang Rong nodded:
"What's the big deal about begging for mercy? I'm not afraid of death, but if it hurts too much, I can yell and beg for mercy a few times. But does that make you a useless piece of trash? Is this how a turtle thinks? Just because someone else begs for mercy doesn't mean you're not a shallow-water turtle anymore?"
The young magistrate laughed as he spoke.
Liu Zilin's face stiffened, just as he was about to speak again.
"No need for all that trouble, just do it and chop off their heads."
Wei Shaoxuan waved his hand without turning his head.
He and Qiu Shenji did not leave immediately, but stood there as if waiting for something.
Ouyang Rong's smile remained unchanged. "Your master has spoken."
Liu Zilin choked on his words, then nodded vigorously:
"Indeed, we can't afford to delay and things might get complicated. Young Master Wei is wise and cautious."
While flattering Ouyang Rong, Liu Zilin suddenly reached out and snatched the Moonlight Sword from his waist, tucking it into his own belt. Then, he turned and gestured to the eight blue-clad servants behind him.
"Listen to Young Master Wei, drag him over and behead him, but make sure the blood doesn't splatter on the nobleman."
Liu Zilin turned his head again, grabbed Aqing by the back of her collar, lifted the crying and resisting girl up, and nodded, saying:
“Young Master Wei, I’ll go and take this little brat down the mountain and release her now.”
Wei Shaoxuan's smile remained unchanged: "I said, cut off their heads."
"Yes, yes, yes, cut off Ouyang Lianghan's head now. Young master, please be patient, I will do it myself."
Liu Zilin quickly nodded, put down the pretty girl who was scratching and obstructing him, and drew his sword to walk towards Ouyang Rong.
Wei Shaoxuan sighed: "What I mean is, cut off the heads of everyone, big and small."
Liu Zilin was taken aback.
Ouyang Rong's calm expression suddenly twisted: "Wei Shaoxuan! What did you just promise the old senior? You went back on your word, went too far, and have no shame at all?!"
Wei Shaoxuan remained calm and composed, waving his paper fan:
"No, no, no, I respect the old gentleman very much, that's why I didn't break my promise. I only promised not to kill her, but I didn't say I would stop others from killing her..."
“Master Liu, don’t you agree? This is your territory. You insist on killing this girl. How could my adoptive father and I stop you? Our Wei family would never do such a thing as guests bullying their hosts. Please do as you please.”
"Yes...yes!" Liu Zilin's face stiffened slightly, and he lowered his head to agree: "It is I who will kill."
Wei Shaoxuan didn't go to see the young magistrate who had clearly been more grief-stricken than heartbroken, yet was suddenly enraged by him.
He suddenly turned his head and said to Qiu Shenji:
"A hot-tempered person?"
Qiu Shenji nodded indifferently: "A man of high spirits."
Wei Shaoxuan said with a smile:
"I was right. Old sir, the more you protect her, the more she deserves to die. Even if she's just a little girl, still young and without any cultivation, it's better to be safe than sorry."
Ouyang Rong didn't look at this hypocrite who treated human life like dirt anymore; his eyes were fixed on Qiu Shenji.
He struggled desperately, pinned down by several servants in blue robes, head held high and teeth clenched:
"You so-called Qi cultivators, is this all you do?! You betray your promises, bully the weak, and trample on justice!"
"I knew you had low moral standards, but I didn't expect you to have none at all! Now you're not even sparing a defenseless little girl!"
Qiu Shenji's face, which remained as cold as ice for millennia, furrowed slightly, but then relaxed and became indifferent again.
His military strategy was not something he would bother discussing with ants.
Qiu Shenji and Wei Shaoxuan kept their eyes straight ahead.
Ignoring is the greatest form of contempt.
Ouyang Rong suddenly understood a rule of extremely high priority in this world.
In his previous life, he had little chance of noticing this rule, and since he had been focused on returning home after arriving in this world, he could not pay much attention to it in the short term.
But if he wants to stay for a long time, then the bloody reality will inevitably force him to lower his proud head and face the rule head-on.
Unfortunately, it's a bit too late now.
But then again, knowing this beforehand wouldn't have been of any use in front of a high-level Qi cultivator; at most, it would have allowed him to escape unscathed.
The game of vying for this new cauldron sword seems destined to be beyond the reach of ordinary mortals and minor officials.
"If Patriarch Liu wants to kill, please hurry, we're in a rush."
Wei Shaoxuan glanced at Liu Zilin, who seemed to have just recovered from his astonishment and hurriedly stepped forward with an awkward smile, preparing the executioners.
Wei Shaoxuan lowered his head and flipped through Buddhist scriptures and sword manuals. He and Qiu Shenji, who was carrying a box on his back, turned their backs and walked to a distance, waiting for the heads to fall.
Liu Zilin led his servants in blue robes forward and dragged Ouyang Rong and A Qing to the edge of the cliff.
Ouyang Rong, who had fallen to the ground, turned his head and said dejectedly:
“Ah Qing, it was Master who was too arrogant. He underestimated the allure of this broken sword and ignored the existence of Qi cultivators… Master shouldn’t have been so careless as to bring you here.”
"Sir, it's alright, it's all the same."
"What...they're all the same?"
Aqing's face was streaked with tears, but she forced a smile, her voice still the same soft, endearing voice that Ouyang Rong had first met:
"If it weren't for the appearance of the master, my brother, mother, and many other families in Longcheng would have died in the flood long ago. Dying now is no different from dying back then."
"Speaking of which, the master actually let us live a long time longer!"
She said happily.
Ouyang Rong turned his head away, still not daring to look at her.
From coughing up blood and being seriously injured at the foot of the mountain to being beheaded, his calm expression concealed endless guilt and self-reproach.
He, the magistrate of Longcheng County, should have emerged from Zheyiqu.
Ah Shan stepped forward.
Those who carry firewood for the masses should not be left to freeze to death in the wind and snow.
But now, not only are those who carry firewood freezing to death, but Ouyang Rong can't even take care of their relatives.
“A twisted logic to comfort the old man,” Ouyang Rong murmured with his eyes closed.
"It's not a consolation."
Ah Qing wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, which was covered in weeds:
“My brother is gone, and my master is leaving too. I don’t want to live alone, but I can’t bear to leave my mother. Fortunately, the woman my brother likes is a good person and should be able to take care of my mother.”
As Aqing spoke more cheerfully, she suddenly asked:
"Master, do you still remember that night at Donglin Temple when my family invited you to stay for dinner?"
"How could I not remember? You all misunderstood me and stupidly took off your clothes."
"Ah Qing has always remembered!" Facing death, Ah Qing trembled uncontrollably, unable to contain her emotions: "From the moment Master held Ah Qing and draped clothes over her, Ah Qing... she..."
"Just what?"
"I will...I will always be grateful for your kindness, sir."
She turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
"Really? I'm very grateful to Aqing too..."
Ouyang Rong seemed lost in thought, muttering to himself.
As they whispered to each other, they took their positions on the edge of the cliff.
With his back to Wei Shaoxuan, Liu Zilin's face was gloomy and complicated. He and the servants in blue robes beside him drew their swords, glanced at Ouyang Rong and A Qing who were leaning against each other, and then looked back at Wei Shaoxuan.
His eyes flickered.
Ouyang Rong suddenly gave up all struggle, letting the two servants in blue tie his arms behind his back and press him against the edge of the cliff.
He strained his neck to look up, wanting to see the sky one last time.
The sky was clear and blue, and the midday sun was as dazzling as needles.
Ouyang Rong squinted, his vision blurred through the narrow gaps between his eyes.
Is he about to die? He hasn't even had a chance to exchange his good fortune for returning home.
But why... are there so few regrets?
Ouyang Rong smiled.
In truth, he knew perfectly well that this had always been the case; he knew everything deep down.
At first, he was looking for a reason not to leave.
Later, he began to look for reasons to leave.
Even later, I told myself that I was disappointed with this world and regarded it as hell.
But when Ouyang Rong learned from his junior sister that Longcheng still needed him, he took the skirt knife and couldn't wait to return to "hell".
He found another reason not to leave.
And that blessing from the underground palace, which seemed to lead to returning home, gradually became a spiritual sustenance for people far away.
But sometimes, people never go to see distant places in their entire lives.
Just knowing it's there is enough...
Ouyang Rong threw his head back and laughed loudly.
He was actually aware of these subtle shifts in his thinking.
They just haven't been willing to admit it.
Only when death is imminent can one truly understand one's own mind and nature.
Ouyang Rong opened his eyes slightly, gradually adjusting to the dazzling sunlight. At that moment, he suddenly saw a tiny white dot in the blue sky above his head.
This tiny white dot grew larger and larger in his field of vision at an extremely rapid pace.
Ouyang Rong was taken aback.
It was immediately clear that it was a large bird soaring with its head held high.
The large bird was entirely white and had an unusual appearance, as if it had more than two legs and two eyes.
What puzzled him even more was that there seemed to be a ball of... golden candlelight on the back of this large bird?
The midday sun is too intense, is it burning the wings? Wait, that's not fire! It's... a ball of long, golden hair being blown by a fierce wind!
Ouyang Rong frowned.
"Who gave you the guts?"
A cold, womanly voice came from somewhere, as if speaking right next to the people on the lawn.
Furthermore, the woman's voice was somewhat stiff, and her pronunciation of classical Chinese was slightly awkward, like a non-Chinese person learning Chinese for the first time.
"who?"
While Wei Shaoxuan was still looking around in surprise, Qiu Shenji suddenly looked up, his expression changed drastically, and he blurted out:
"Snow Candle! What brings you here?"
"Leave the sword and the cauldron, or you will either leave or die," she said.
The young magistrate, tilting his head back to face the sunlight under the blade, looked puzzled. The words "Snow Candle" sounded vaguely familiar.
But then, Ouyang Rong opened his eyes wide and witnessed a scene that he would never forget for the rest of his life...
A fierce wind swept across the mountains.
A golden-haired Yue woman descended from the heavens.
(End of this chapter)
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