The old scholar stood on a giant rock at the summit, the mountain wind buffeting him, his sleeves billowing and snapping.

Where was the slightest hint of penury in this white-haired old man standing tall against the wind?

The old scholar gazed towards that point of light that had suddenly ignited eight hundred *li* away. Even at such a distance, it still stung the old man’s eyes somewhat. He nodded slightly, saying, “So many years have passed, and although the sword’s edge is much duller than legend suggests, the inner sharpness has not diminished by much. Impressive, truly impressive. Ten thousand years of leisurely time, with the world changing like the sea turning into mulberry fields, and still able to possess such substantial *jing* (essence), *qi* (vital energy), and *shen* (spirit). But…”

The old scholar quickly chuckled, “I will rely on this mountain to make you retreat in the face of difficulty. Fighting is ultimately something best avoided if possible, as it damages harmony.”

The mountain beneath the old man’s feet, which he had contemplated and drawn into his painting, was of immense renown.

In the Central Divine Continent, the broadest in territory among the Nine Continents, there was a great mountain called Sui Mountain. Its imposing momentum could be described as rising straight into the heavens. At its peak, there was a stele inscribed by the Sage Master, “Supreme Under Heaven,” a cliff carving by the Ritual Sage, “Ancestor of the Five Peaks,” the inscription “Gentle Winds Slowly Arrive” left behind by the leading disciple of the Dao Ancestor, and the four characters “Only I, Wudang,” carved with a finger by the Military Sage.

The memorial writings left by Emperors of past dynasties of all the continents for making sacrifices to Heaven, number over one hundred and eighty. There are writings in seal, clerical, and standard scripts, and these mysterious words and cliff walls extended from the Summit’s platform all the way down to the mountainside. Scenic and historical sites were virtually everywhere.

The old scholar looked towards that brilliant sword light with some surprise. Earlier, when it first appeared at the old wellhead, he had seen Chen Ping’an’s sword-holding posture, which was truly unpresentable. Even the old scholar, who did not emphasize martial arts, could not bear to watch. But at this moment, seeing the young man holding the sword horizontally in front of him, the old man had only one feeling.

The young man’s hand holding the sword was steady, his heart was quiet, and very stable. Therefore, his entire *shenhun* (spirit soul), intention, and *qi* were even more stable.

After the tall woman poured all of her sword intent into “Old Sword Strip,” the next moment, with an even more ethereal figure and a mysterious aura, she appeared directly above the young man Chen Ping’an’s *xinhu* (heart lake). Golden eyes, bare feet, when her toes gently touched the surface of the lake, ripples spread, and then the young man heard a voice in his heart.

Her warm voice resounded between the young man’s heart and soul, “Don’t rush to attack, first adapt to the feeling of a tenth-realm qi cultivator.”

“The so-called sword techniques are just a few types, unable to create too many variations. This is the difference between the later generations’ Jianghu (Martial World) and the Immortal families of the mountains. Qi cultivators cultivate *qi*, nourishing and refining it into one, and the resulting sword intent is myriad, with varying depths, heights, and levels. If others are streams and brooks, you are that lake and river, naturally surpassing them a thousand times.”

“The length of the sword *qi* depends on the state of the physique and *qi* palace’s cultivation. The more *qi* palaces are opened and the deeper the potential is excavated, if others only have a lower-grade blessed land, but you have all the *dongtian fudi* (cave heavens and blessed lands), the difference between the two is like heaven and earth! Meridians are like roads, the more tough and wide, if others have a single-plank bridge and a sheep gut path, but you have the road to heaven, how can they compete with you?”

She looked around, saw the young man’s heart-state scenes, smiled, and whispered, “Do you understand?”

The young man was struggling to adapt to the feeling of a tenth-realm cultivator, and the airflow around his body was extremely chaotic. He couldn’t even open his eyes, let alone speak. Fortunately, she told him he only needed to silently recite in his heart. The young man honestly told her, “I understand, but I don’t know how to do it.”

She was not surprised at all, and laughed heartily.

Chen Ping’an didn’t understand why, and continued to try his best to adapt to the tenth-realm cultivator self.

That strange feeling was indescribable and inexplicable.

It was like a hungry person, suddenly having their belly filled with big fish and big meat, without leaving any gap, all the *qi* palaces were propped open.

That original *benyuan qi ji* (original source vital energy) that seemed to be a wandering fire dragon suddenly changed from the size of a needle and thread to the size of an exaggerated loach, swimming rapidly in the meridians, ramming and colliding, unobstructed. Along the way, it constantly wrapped the *qi* of each *qi* palace and acupoint, like a snowball, feeling like it would not give up until it became a true dragon.

The body was clear as glass, and the trunk meridians stretched and expanded like golden branches and jade leaves.

True *qi* was immaculate, returning to simplicity, for long vision and longevity.

One by one, the sayings that Lin Shouyi had mentioned appeared in Chen Ping’an’s mind.

On the *xinhu* (heart lake), she whispered, “Still missing a little something. Sword cultivators are ultimately not ordinary *qi* cultivators.”

Then she looked up, towards the distance, through Chen Ping’an’s *danshi* (elixir chamber) mind-state, directly towards the giant rock on the mountain peak, and asked with a smile, “What do you say? Wouldn’t it be too unmartial to shamelessly bring out this Sui Mountain to defend against the enemy?”

“So that you lose with conviction.”

The old scholar understood, laughed heartily, hesitated slightly, slightly narrowed his gaze, his eyes moved over the entire mountain, and finally his gaze condensed on a cliff wall, on which there was a strange “calligraphy” written by an ancient sword immortal with abundant sword *qi*. Countless sword cultivators in the Central Divine Continent came to watch, and even built huts under the cliff to comprehend the *jiandao* (sword path): the “Flying Sword Calligraphy.”

“Take it, take as much as you can depending on your ability. Little Zuo was like you at the beginning, not formally learning the sword yet, unintentionally climbed the mountain to watch the cliff and observe the characters, and with that one look, he grasped six characters. The talent of sword practice is immediately apparent. Geniuses emerge in sword cultivators, but geniuses are also divided into large and small. Five characters is guaranteed to become a land sword immortal. Chen Ping’an, let’s see how your *gengu* (natural constitution) is!”

With a wave of the old man’s sleeve, the seven ancient characters on the mountain cliff flew out of the cliff wall and headed towards Chen Ping’an eight hundred *li* away. In an instant, they arrived next to Chen Ping’an and had already become palm-sized ancient seal characters, shining with golden light and splendor. One by one, the characters quickly rotated around Chen Ping’an.

But in the end, not a single character was willing to approach Chen Ping’an. The distance widened further and further, and finally, they simply turned around and flew back. After seeing this scene, the old scholar was both embarrassed and ashamed, and muttered, “Backfired, Little Ping’an, I’m sorry. How could I have thought that these characters would be so uncooperative…”

The woman standing on Chen Ping’an’s *xinhu* (heart lake) snorted coldly.

The old scholar smiled embarrassedly, “Tricky, really tricky, what to do? It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ll just change to an easier and more effortless method. It can’t stump me. I have an old friendship with the Mountain God of Sui Mountain. I know his family background best. If all else fails, I will…”

“It’s not strange that those seven characters don’t like me.”

At this moment, Chen Ping’an opened a slit in his eyes, no longer speaking to the tall woman in his heart, but directly said, “And actually, I don’t want them either, really!”

She was shocked.

The young man increased the force, grasped the long sword in his hand, and slowly said, “When I practice boxing, I always have a feeling that in the end, the punch will be very fast, even feel that it is the fastest. Now that you are by my side, I feel that it is enough. I don’t need any characters at all. The next sword will be very fast! Believe me, it will definitely be very fast!”

The woman nodded.

The old scholar was also stunned for a moment, and praised, “This tone is really like Little Qi when he was young.”

The old man had a smile in his eyes, but deliberately cleared his throat and snorted coldly, “I want to see, this sword can allow your boy’s tenth-realm cultivation to exert the strength of the eleventh or twelfth realm! Chen Ping’an, don’t drag your feet, and in the end, only show the strength of the seventh or eighth realm. Come, come, if you don’t deliver this sword again, the daylilies will be cold!”

After teasing the young man, the old man sat cross-legged and murmured, “Poets say, ‘Ten years to sharpen a sword, its frosty edge has not been tried. Today I present it to you, who has any grievances?’ But there are so many grievances in the world, but there is only one sword.”

The old scholar smiled indifferently, no longer having these spring and autumn emotions, gloating, “Besides, others spend ten years to sharpen a sword, but the sword in Chen Ping’an’s hand has been around for ten thousand years.”

Chen Ping’an and the tall woman said almost at the same time, “Go!”

Chen Ping’an began to run forward wildly.

The young man was actually dragging the sword as he walked.

The old scholar, taking everything into his eyes, just smiled and shook his head.

The young man looked up and ran forward.

The young man jumped high and chopped down with a sword.

Everything was silent.

There was no shocking sword light that illuminated the world, no sword *qi* that pierced through the sky.

But at this moment, on the giant rock at the top of the mountain, the old man, who was originally sitting facing north and south, turned to the side.

On the surface of the *xinhu* (heart lake), the woman suddenly fell to the bottom of the lake, closed her eyes, and slowly said, “Ten thousand years.”

At the same time, next to the water well in the Autumn Reed Inn, Li Baoping, who had been studying the painting, suddenly widened her eyes and exclaimed in surprise, “Why does the painting suddenly have a crack?”

(End of Chapter)

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