Chapter 793 Tao Yuanming: Teaching You a Sword
The old man carrying a hoe casually uttered a sentence that silenced Cui Hao.
Ouyang Rong nodded slightly.
As expected of a renowned scholar and great writer of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, his words were concise and unpretentious.
Ouyang Rong looked at Cui Hao.
Ouyang Rong had heard of his great name. Because of Yuan Huaimin, Ouyang Rong had specially studied the history of the Northern Wei Dynasty. This man was considered the national teacher of the Northern Wei Dynasty. Historical records say that he was handsome, intelligent, and skilled in Taoism, Confucianism, metaphysics, and yin-yang numerology. However, he was very opposed to Buddhism. He once helped Emperor Taiwu of the Northern Wei Dynasty unify the north and launched a massive anti-Buddhist movement.
Finally, he died as a result of being implicated in the "National History Prison," and historical records state that the humiliation he suffered before his death was "unparalleled among the executions of high-ranking officials."
The exact strength of this person is unknown, and there is no record of it in official history.
Ouyang Rong withdrew his gaze and was about to speak to Tao Yuanming when Cui Hao asked:
"Ouyang Lianghan, was it you who summoned us?"
"right."
Cui Hao remained calm, a smile still playing on his lips.
What year is it tonight?
"The 15th day of the 7th month of the 3rd year of Tianyou of the Great Zhou Dynasty, Jia Chen year."
Before the old man carrying the hoe and the handsome young man could speak, Ouyang Rong continued to speak frankly:
"You two have been dead for three hundred years."
Tao Yuanming murmured, "Three hundred years...?"
The old man subconsciously reached for his waist and realized that he hadn't brought his wine flask with him when he went out that day, so he had no wine.
Cui Hao's smile remained unchanged. She flicked her sleeves, her slender, woman-like hands calculating with her fingers, and a thoughtful expression occasionally appeared on her face.
Ouyang Rong said earnestly to Tao Yuanming:
"Today, I summoned you, sir, because I have a request..."
Ouyang Rong gave a general account of the situation, mainly speaking to Tao Yuanming. Cui Hao, however, listened with great interest and even joined in. After Ouyang Rong finished speaking, he gently inquired:
“Ouyang Lianghan, are you aware that this kind of forbidden technique is a major taboo? It is passed down only within a very small circle, and the conditions are extremely strict. Moreover, the forces that generally master this forbidden technique can only summon their own ancestors or familiar ancestors. There must be at least one bond between them, and they cannot summon randomly, because the dead sleep eternally and dislike being disturbed…”
Ouyang Rong immediately nodded:
"I understand. I apologize for disturbing you, senior. Please leave now. I was actually inviting Senior Tao here today, but I accidentally disturbed you. It was my mistake. Please take care and don't see me off."
Ouyang Rong spoke with utmost sincerity. After he finished speaking, he turned to face Tao Yuanming alone.
Cui Hao had only spoken halfway when he opened his mouth slightly, looking at the polite and courteous young man in the scholar's robe, somewhat speechless.
Ouyang Rong ignored him. He hadn't invited him here in the first place, so not only was it a waste of merit, but he almost messed things up. Luckily, he had Little Ink Spirit's IOU.
Ouyang Rong continued earnestly:
“Mr. Tao, I have served as the magistrate of Longcheng County and have long admired your name. My request today is driven by both personal and public motives. I feel ashamed and embarrassed, but I have no regrets. I hope you can help me.”
The old man carrying a hoe said calmly:
"If you can be promoted, the magistrate of Longcheng will surely do a better job than me, but I'm afraid I can't help you. I'm just a gardener."
Ouyang Rong shook his head:
“The Xunyang Grottoes were indeed dangerous today, but I know that you, sir, are not only a renowned scholar of the Southern Dynasties, but also the legendary swordsman of the ‘Humble Scholar’ style. The ‘Humble Scholar’ sword manual that you left at Donglin Temple once saved my life. I am not talented, but I have secretly learned a sword technique from you, and the name of the sword is ‘Return to the Past’.”
As they were talking, Tao Yuanming and Cui Hao saw the young man in the scholar's robe pick up a long, narrow zither case from beside his feet and place it across his knees.
He opened the violin case and drew an arc with two fingers.
A clear blue arc of light illuminated the slightly dim carriage, casting a dreamlike halo on the hems of the clothes of the three people sitting opposite each other... Even though Tao and Cui were like phantoms of spirits, the light of the Mythical Sword still fell upon them, mysterious and profound.
The old man carrying a hoe looked at the young man in the scholar's robe with surprise.
The handsome young man, who looked like a woman, had his peach blossom eyes slightly narrowed, which were somewhat long and alluring. He was staring straight at Ouyang Rong.
He asked:
"Which sword is this? The Crimson Emperor's or the White Emperor's? No... This sword has no hilt, is it the Humble Scholar's? No, it doesn't seem like it either, the sword light is different. Is this newly forged by your descendants? What is its name, and which sword master are you?"
Ouyang Rong did not answer, but nodded to Tao Yuanming:
"As long as you nod, I will reveal my true name. Besides the sword, what else do you need? Please tell me."
Tao Yuanming remained silent for a while, then shook his head.
Cui Hao, who had been observing all along, suddenly spoke up:
“Young man, I can help you. You don’t need the cauldron and sword. I don’t need much. What you have here is enough.”
The handsome young man glanced out the window at the direction of the Xunyang Grottoes, where strange things were happening frequently, then turned around and pointed to two items in the sword box.
Ouyang Rong looked down.
They are three tubes of spiritual ink and a string of eighteen-bead Buddhist prayer beads.
Ouyang Rong couldn't help but glance at Cui Hao, whose expression remained calm as he met Ouyang Rong's gaze.
“The dead do not like to be disturbed, but most of them also have regrets. Ouyang Lianghan, you only need to answer three questions for me, and I can help once.” The handsome young man smiled and added warmly, “Sorry, I just woke up and my mind is a little sluggish. I can only think of three solutions. If I were alive, I could list nine.”
Ouyang Rong didn't reply immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly.
At this moment, the old man stood up, carrying his small hoe, and walked leisurely towards the car, seemingly preparing to leave, giving Ouyang Rong and Cui Hao space.
Cui Hao watched with a smile.
Ouyang Rong was about to speak when suddenly a small head popped out from his sleeve and asked:
"Xiao Rongzi, has Xiao Taozi arrived yet? What are you whispering about?"
It's a brilliant idea.
Cui Hao squinted.
Tao Yuanming's figure stopped silently.
As Ouyang Rong was organizing his thoughts, Miao Si glanced around the empty carriage and suddenly pointed to the sword box on Ouyang Rong's lap, pointing to something inside, much like Cui Hao had done:
"Lend me this mask. It's a good thing. It's called the Fangxiang Mask. It can see souls and spirits. Rongzhen bullied me like this last time."
Ouyang Rong looked over and saw that Miaozhen was pointing to a golden mask, which he had previously seized from Rongzhen and the Qi cultivators of the Imperial Observatory, and had kept for a long time.
"Hurry, hurry, let this fairy see if he's here or not..."
Urged on by Miao Si, Ouyang Rong was about to pick up the mask and give it to her.
The old man carrying the hoe suddenly returned.
He sat back down in his seat.
"Little Rongzi, what are you dawdling for? Fine, this fairy will do it herself."
Miao Si noticed that Ouyang Rong had stopped moving and was looking at the empty seat opposite her. She was dissatisfied and was about to jump towards the sword box, but as soon as she was in the air, Ouyang Rong grabbed her and, unsurprisingly, stuffed her back into his sleeve by the scumbag's lackey.
Ingenious idea: ...??
Ignoring the little ink spirit's vehement protests, Ouyang Rong covered his cuffs and stared at Tao Yuanming:
"Sir, you've changed your mind?"
The old man asked with a hint of helplessness, "How did you end up with such a bully at home?"
Ouyang Rong coughed and said seriously, "Actually, I'm not familiar with her."
Tao Yuanming shook his head: "The medium through which you summoned me was provided by her, wasn't it?"
Ouyang Rong nodded: "To be honest, it is indeed the IOU left by you, sir."
The old man carrying a hoe touched his forehead, as if he had a headache.
Ouyang Rong reminded her, "She seems to have quite a few of the master's IOUs..."
"Please settle my account."
Tao Yuanming interrupted decisively.
Ouyang Rong raised an eyebrow. Tao Yuanming tilted his head, his cloudy eyes looking at the clear blue arc, which seemed to clear up a bit. The old man continued:
"In exchange, I will hand you my sword before I leave. However, although there are some familiar things outside, your Qi Refining cultivation is not high enough. I cannot fully enjoy this sword strike, and it may not meet your expectations. Be prepared."
Ouyang Rong had just relaxed his brows when he frowned slightly again.
He does indeed only have a seventh-grade cultivation level, which is his biggest weakness today.
Ouyang Rong suddenly closed his eyes and took the opportunity to enter the Merit Pagoda, where he looked inside at the cyan-gold characters on the small wooden fish.
Merit: 498
He originally had 6,498 merit points. Initially, he planned to use 3,000 of them to summon Tao Yuanming's spirit, and then use the remaining 3,498 merit points as reserve spiritual energy, because the merit purple mist they transformed into could be used by the "Dependent Origination and Emptiness" supernatural power of [Craftsmanship] as fuel for the cauldron and sword.
As a result of the mistake, three thousand merits were wasted, and Cui Hao was summoned by mistake.
With less than 500 merit points at the moment, it's definitely not enough to use the [Craftsmanship] skill to draw a sword.
Do I have to exhaust my energy again?
As Ouyang Rong closed his eyes and frowned, a gentle voice suddenly came from outside:
"If you choose me, I'll be more than capable. I can provide three options. With my seventh-grade cultivation and these two items, I'll have more than enough. Hmm, I'll also teach you a few tricks."
Ouyang Rong opened his eyes and found that the speaker was Cui Hao.
Cui Hao smiled as he looked at Tao Yuanming, raising his pointed chin slightly, seemingly subtly comparing himself to the old man, waiting for the old man to retaliate.
Tao Yuanming, however, kept his eyes down and ignored him. From the moment he said "I'm not familiar with you," the old man had not paid any attention to the handsome young man and had only spoken to Ouyang Rong the entire time.
Ouyang Rong even suspected that the two of them might be old rivals or something, since they could get involved in business dealings involving the dead.
As Ouyang Rong pondered, Cui Hao, with her delicate, womanly right hand, reached out and touched the spirit ink bamboo tube and eighteen seeds in the sword box from a distance.
He smiled and glanced at the twin peaks outside the window, then said patiently:
"Although you are the sword wielder, your initial Dao lineage follows a very strange path, a niche lineage of sorcerers. It's a pity that you didn't follow the orthodox Confucian path, so you can't be considered a pure scholar. But it's alright, I know a little about your sorcerer lineage. I have a very important acquaintance who is its ancestor. Give me your body and I will teach you. This lineage is actually very interesting, but you haven't developed it well yet."
Ouyang Rong glanced at Cui Hao but didn't reply.
Tao Yuanming remained silent, offering no argument, and waited for Ouyang Rong to make his selection.
The young man in the scholar's robe suddenly turned to the old man and said:
"This junior is not talented, but I will teach you a sword technique, senior."
Under Tao Yuanming's somewhat puzzled gaze, Ouyang Rong suddenly tapped the [Craftsmanship] icon.
Inside the cramped carriage, the [Craftsmanship] sword swirled around Ouyang Rong, its sword energy spreading in a dreamlike manner.
This sword strike didn't actually have much power, but as Tao Yuanming and Cui Hao watched, they gradually discovered a terrifying clue.
This sword strike was unremarkable in power.
However, Ouyang Rong's spiritual energy in his dantian was not depleted at all.
What drives this [crafted] sword to unleash its power is not spiritual energy, but another kind of energy!
Or perhaps, there's another kind of energy at play? The higher one stands, the more one can understand the meaning behind it.
Cui Hao's tone was one of great interest:
"Are you feeling angry today? Have you been suppressing it? This sword is subtly connected to your anger; the angrier you are, the happier it becomes?"
The handsome young man, who had been smiling, stopped smiling and looked somewhat awe-inspiring: "Unheard of. You have touched a myth."
Ouyang Rong remained calm, letting the [Craftsmanship] run wild around his body, faster and faster.
Tao Yuanming suddenly smiled: "This sword strike is interesting. What is it called?"
"Dependent origination and emptiness."
Ouyang Rong asked very seriously, "After learning this sword technique, will you be able to wield it to your heart's content?"
"good!"
The old man chuckled and nodded, pointing at Ouyang Rong:
"I have learned a lot from you. I will now teach you a sword technique."
As he spoke, the old man put down his small hoe, reached out and grabbed the rapidly spinning blue arc beside the young man in the scholar's robe, placing it in his palm. The illusory hand was not shattered by the sword's edge, and the old man watched with a smile.
Seeing that the old man and the child had reached an agreement, Cui Hao frowned slightly. Just then, Ouyang Rong suddenly turned to him and asked:
"You can ask me three questions now, senior."
He instantly understood what he meant, and a smile appeared on Cui Hao's incredibly handsome face.
After a moment, his smile faded, and he remained silent for a brief silence before asking softly:
When did the Northern Wei Dynasty fall?
"Eighty-four years after you were executed for the crime of exposing the evils of the country, you moved the capital to Luoyang, which was then divided into east and west by tyrannical ministers, thus declaring the end of the country."
Cui Hao paused for a moment, then asked:
"How is the Cui family of Qinghe doing now?"
"The head of the five surnames and seven prominent families, illustrious in the world."
Cui Hao showed no surprise and asked with a serious expression:
"Okay, one last question, today's almanac."
"Year of Jia Chen, Month of Xin Wei, Day of Geng Chen".
"Clashing with the Horse in the South... The hour clashes with Gengwu..."
The handsome young man did some quick calculations, then burst into laughter, stood up, and pointed towards the golden Buddha head that was faintly visible in the white mist in the distance outside the window:
"Today is auspicious; it is the perfect day to destroy Buddhism!"
Just then, a melodious zither tune drifted from somewhere, while from the side of Twin Peaks came the sounds of a dragon roaring, rocks shattering and rolling, and an old woman screaming in pain and fear—a chaotic cacophony.
Unaware of what terrifying and intense events were unfolding at the Xunyang Grottoes, Yan Liulang and the others guarding the carriage were all shocked, while the Fang sisters nervously swallowed.
Inside the carriage, the solitary figure of the scholar in the Confucian robe stood up and placed the [Craftsmanship], three tubes of spirit ink, eighteen seeds, and other items into the long zither case.
He stepped off the carriage, carrying the violin case diagonally in one hand.
"Minister, something seems wrong over there. Should we observe the situation first..."
Do you have any wine?
Yan Liulang saw Ouyang Rong get out of the carriage inexplicably, his face calm, and reached out to ask for it.
There was half a gourd of rice wine, but it had gone cold.
The young man in the scholar's robe silently took the gourd of wine, tilted his head back and took a sip. He first frowned because of the sourness, but then a look of longing and craving appeared on his handsome face, as if he were an old drunkard who hadn't drunk wine in eight hundred years.
He hung the wine jug at his waist, took a few steps forward, and suddenly turned back to ask:
Give me a string of cash.
"A string of cash?"
Yan Liulang had a question. He felt that something was off about the magistrate after he got off the carriage. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he did as he was told. He went to his subordinates and got back three pieces of silver, worth one string of cash.
Ouyang Rong waved his hand in refusal, as if stating a trivial matter: "One string of cash."
The Fang sisters exchanged a glance, and Fang stepped forward, silently taking out a string of coins from her bosom... all of them were copper coins strung together.
Ouyang Rong nodded and accepted it, tucked it into his sleeve, turned his back to the crowd, and walked forward alone.
Yan Liulang, the Fang sisters, and the others stared blankly at the tall, slender figure gradually walking away. He was dressed in a blue scholar's robe, with a wine gourd hanging from his waist, and walked straight ahead towards the twin peaks where terrifying dragon roars and purple-gold sword energy emanated.
Although everyone was afraid, they dared not say anything and followed instinctively.
At the very front, the young man in the scholar's robe seemed to remember something, reached into his sleeve, and pulled out a bronze mask, putting it on his face.
His eyes, the only part of his face visible, were calm, and he clearly showed no anger; he seemed easy to talk to.
Today I'm not alone, but with three others.
(End of this chapter)
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