The clash between Wu Shuangjiang and Jiang She was unlike the “martial performance” of Chen Ping’an and Jiang She. It was a battle of Dharmic forms, a true spectacle of combat between mountain peak cultivators.

Wu Shuangjiang’s Dharmic form was a magnificent sight, clad in iridescent armor and crowned with a jade diadem. He bore a sword and saber, resembling a vibrant mural from an ancient Daoist shrine.

Within the jade diadem resided a miniature celestial reviewing stand, a Xianjia Dianjiangtai. At its heart stood a towering banner, surrounded by myriads of divine generals and talismanic warriors, swarming like ants. Upon closer inspection, even the most insignificant “foot soldiers” at the edge of the formation bore countenances meticulously copied from portraits of renowned generals throughout history. Emblazoned upon the Dharmic form’s gilded arm were countless sacrificial texts, amidst which billowed the unmistakable smoke of war, the air thick with rising malice. From this cacophony arose the pounding of drums, the thunder of hooves, and the whistling shriek of arrows piercing the air… Further etchings depicted ancient battlefields, cartographies of mountains and rivers, and the intricate routes of marching armies.

Jiang She’s Dharmic form was adorned in golden armor, and behind it manifested a colossal, blood-red lunar halo. His arms were entwined with ribbons of iridescent light, one black and one white, each bearing the profound truths of the Great Dao.

Each warrior revealed his unique power.

Within the span of a single incense stick, Wu Shuangjiang unleashed nearly a hundred offensive magical treasures, each arcing through the heavens like a falling star, their multicolored brilliance illuminating the land, all aimed at Jiang She’s Dharmic form.

Furthermore, Wu Shuangjiang invoked more than a dozen powerful talismans. One, a cyan-purple sigil, hovered above the battlefield like an armory containing countless weapons, ceaselessly hurling blades like flying swords at Jiang She. Another talisman conjured a “Kyōkan,” from which emerged legions of tormented wraiths, arrayed in formations with armor of five distinct hues.

Each time a magical treasure struck Jiang She’s Dharmic form, a thunderous roar echoed, and golden light erupted in a shower of sparks and fiery rain.

Jiang She, wielding his P破阵 (“Formation Breaker”) spear, aimed its tip directly at Wu Shuangjiang’s colorful armored form. In an instant, he pierced a pitch-black hole through it, revealing an emptiness within, like a vortex born from the rotation of the Great Dao.

Jiang Shangzhen, utterly captivated, exclaimed, “I’ve witnessed a true man of wealth! I’m green with envy, truly green!”

Alas, the waters of Tongye Continent were shallow. When sparring, its cultivators were often unwilling to unleash their full might.

The monks of Beiju Luzhou, on the other hand, tended to be poor. Indeed, how could a land overrun by sword cultivators, whose favorite pastime was dismantling ancestral halls, ever amass wealth?

Cui Dongshan remarked, “If only we could witness the displays of Yu Xuan or Liu Jubao, that would be something indeed!”

Few cultivators traveled with the abundance of sword-locking talismans that Yu Xuan carried.

As for Liu Jubao, he had remained hidden for far too long. Now that he had successfully merged with the Dao, he ought to show his hand. One wondered which unfortunate beast of the wilderness would have the “honor” of being beaten to death by wealth.

Jiang Shangzhen declared, “If I survive this place, I swear to dedicate myself to the pursuit of wealth from this day forward!”

For some reason, perhaps influenced by this manifested war of the Great Daos, Jiang Shangzhen heard faint, fragmented wails arising from all around him, above, below, and even from the depths of his own heart. These sorrowful cries seemed to emanate from all the women throughout history, all those whose husbands or lovers had been taken by war, now embodied as a single, grief-stricken woman waiting in her village. Her plaintive lamentations filled the roads of the mortal realm.

Even the audacious Jiang Shangzhen felt his scalp tingle and his skin crawl. It was utterly unnerving.

These heartrending feminine wails sounded like an unwritten proclamation,

Using the frailest of voices to protest the most destructive of war.

Jiang Shangzhen realized the profundity of it all. Palace Master Wu was indeed ruthless, willing to sacrifice eight hundred of her own to kill a thousand of the enemy.

Affected by this Daoist intent, Cui Dongshan seemed saddened, saying, “Only Wu Shuangjiang could accomplish this.”

Wu Shuangjiang, a military commander worthy of worship in the martial temple, was merging with the Dao of ‘happily ever after.’

The women’s sorrowful wails were like a drop of ink spreading in a bowl of water, gently tinting everything.

They caused the immaculate golden armor of Jiang She’s Dharmic form to develop spots of rust, flaking off and drifting away.

While it did not yet strike at the very root of Jiang She’s martial Dao, it finally caused the seemingly flawless Jiang She to suffer a depletion of his power.

Jiang She remained unmoved. Around Wu Shuangjiang’s immense Dharmic form floated countless white “catkins.”

As these filaments brushed against the iridescent armor and fluttering ribbons of the Dharmic form, they carried away glittering flakes like gold leaf, each instance eroding Wu Shuangjiang’s power.

Jiang Shangzhen cursed inwardly, “Old Ancestor Jiang doesn’t play fair! How dare he use sword immortal methods!”

Yet he could not deny that few golden-bodied deities in the mortal realm could withstand such “Daoist exploitation.”

Wu Shuangjiang ignored the constant “scraping of gold” by the needle-like flying swords. He raised his arm, lightly flicking his wrist. In his palm hovered a swirling cluster of countless words, like flowing “seaweed”, a boundless “martial literary prowess” composed of countless frontier poems.

The battle to encircle and slay Bai Ye in Floating-phoenix Continent had given Wu Shuangjiang a flash of inspiration.

Jiang She looked with pity, “Ultimately, it’s just an empty shell.”

Wu Shuangjiang laughed. “That’s why I must usurp, fill its belly, make up the shortcomming of Daoist meaning, and become the true way…”

Too impatient to listen to Wu Shuangjiang’s empty words, Jiang She suddenly dashed forward, unstoppable, breaking through multiple secret techniques and enchantments of the Sui Su Shrine and arrays that Wu Shuangjiang had established to isolate the world. In a flash, he stood before Wu Shuangjiang. The figure of “Wu Shuangjiang” shattered upon being struck, revealing itself to be merely a substitute talisman. Jiang She, far from being surprised, seemed to have anticipated this. With a sidestep, he hurled his Formation Breaker spear into the distance, its momentum soaring like a rainbow. Simultaneously, Jiang She formed a hand seal. The spear pierced an invisible wall of array enchantments, its tip showering forth a rain of multicolored glass shards. The spear shaft trembled, humming loudly, as yet another “Wu Shuangjiang” collapsed as if the Dao had shattered.

Abruptly, Jiang She vanished from the spot. Without using any shrinking the mountains and rivers magic, he merely moved with incredible speed. With the physique of a martial artist unparalleled in its resilience, he cleaved through time itself, causing the entire world to shake and shudder, creating incomprehensible distortions and shifts in the Great Dao. The azure sky seemed to crumple like paper.

Tearing off the head of yet another Wu Shuangjiang, Jiang She shook his hand, dispelling a cloud of azure mist, revealing yet another substitute talisman.

Wu Shuangjiang’s true Dharmic form reappeared in the distance. He performed a Buddhist cleansing ritual, and a flood of golden light erupted from the jade diadem, washing over the golden-armored form and removing all traces of Jiang She’s hand seal.

Restoring the peak of an eleventh-level martial artist, Jiang She truly defied reason.

Jiang She reached out, retrieved his spear, and scoffed, “If this were a battlefield duel, Wu Shuangjiang would be beheaded within an incense stick.”

Wu Shuangjiang remained unconcerned, smiling. “Does Senior wish to know the origins of that flying sword?”

Even Cui Dongshan was eager to know. Jiang Shangzhen was even more curious.

Jiang She frowned slightly, brushing away some “iron rust” from his arm, saying, “Are you truly not afraid of complications?”

Did Zheng Juzhong’s ability to clean up messes make them so fearless?

Wu Shuangjiang said, “At worst, Senior can bring that star Yinghuo (Mars) to this battlefield and completely shatter the heavens and earth.”

Jiang She clucked, “Such audacity, befitting of my warrior brethren.”

Wu Shuangjiang laughed. “Indeed.”

Chen Ping’an said, “If gods are going to fight, let them fight, don’t involve me, a mere martial artist.”

In truth, Chen Ping’an yearned to know the origins of his third natal flying sword more than anyone.

To suppress his divinity and prevent it from taking over, Chen Ping’an had cut off and carved away too much of his “self.”

“I can start by answering why Chen Qingdu reneged on the deal.”

Wu Shuangjiang extended a finger, tracing a circle in the air, and a series of images appeared, like a whirlwind of fleeting scenes. The first was a painted scroll depicting a young man with a sword, setting out on a distant journey.

In his youth, he had dared to venture forth, crossing continents to deliver a “Demon Slayer” sword in a locust-wood box to the girl he held dear, crossing the Upside-Down Mountain and reaching the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Along the way, the “locust abode” of the sword box had hosted two temporary “residents”: a golden incense figure from the Li Zhu Paradise, and a skeletal ghost from the Rouge County of Caiyi Kingdom, now the acting shopkeeper of the New Year’s Shop in Riding-dragon Lane, Shi Rou.

The barefooted youth had named the two swords within the box Demon Slayer and Devil Subduer. The two guests represented the endless flames of divine incense and a ghost bearing the bloodline of ancient Daoism.

“Gods, ghosts, demons, and monsters – he carried them all on his back.”

Wu Shuangjiang smiled. “How very fitting.”

Jiang Shangzhen whispered, “The Mortal Realm.”

Cui Dongshan said, “A bridge.”

Ning Yao’s eyes softened.

Having walked so far, practiced a million punches, passed through so many landscapes, the youth himself was perhaps a love letter.

On his first journey to the Sword Qi Great Wall, Chen Ping’an, whose Bridge of Longevity had been severed, had met the Old Sword Immortal.

Chen Ping’an looked up at the scenes of his life, his expression distant.

At the city gate, upon parting with Ning Yao, Chen Qingdu had told Chen Ping’an to seek out the Guan Dao Temple in Tongye Continent, where he might find a chance to rebuild the Bridge of Longevity. He also said that the locust wood used to create the sword box had a history, and he would borrow it for ten years. As compensation, he would lend out his own sword, Changqi, for the same duration, in exchange for the locust-wood sword box.

The Changqi sword and its scabbard together weighed seven pounds, yet contained sword qi that made it feel like eighty pounds. Carrying it on his travels would continuously temper his soul.

Without the sword box, he could no longer wear his swords, so the youth could only stand holding it.

Chen Qingdu had said with a seemingly casual jibe, “Finally, you look a little bit like a sword cultivator.”

At that time, the barefooted youth found everything in the world strange and bizarre. He remembered Chen Qingdu’s comment about the locust wood “having a history,” but didn’t pay much attention. As for the old man’s joke about “looking like a sword cultivator,” Chen Ping’an didn’t take it seriously.

Seeing this, Jiang Shangzhen asked in his heart, “Did the Old Sword Immortal have a plan? Did the Mountain Master already have a natal flying sword at that time?”

Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes. “If Chen Qingdu had gifted him a flying sword as soon as he arrived at the Sword Qi Great Wall, you underestimated them far too much.”

The locust-wood sword that Qi Xian had given Chen Ping’an, along with the sword that Ruan Qiong had forged for Ning Yao, were together named “Demon Slayer” and “Devil Subduer.” These names were akin to the names of the two flying swords, First and Fifteenth. It was as if the poor, never quite grand, were thinking of grandeur in everything; just to seem the most magnanimous. Because it was a gift from Qi Xian, Chen Ping’an, in his obstinacy, said he could not transfer it, so it was also borrowed by Ning Yao.

Ning Yao suddenly said, “It was the Old Sword Immortal who telepathically reminded me to ask you for the locust-wood sword. When I asked him several times why, he only said that it wouldn’t harm you. He also told me to promise to discuss it only when you attain immortal ascendancy and become a real great sword immortal.”

Ning Yao hesitated and said, “I was winking at you on the city wall.”

Chen Ping’an said with a grievance, “But I was chatting with the Old Sword Immortal! Of course I was nervous, and had to concentrate, how could I be distracted to notice your winks? What if the Old Sword Immortal misunderstood me and thought I was flirting, a lecher, not a proper person, wouldn’t that be terrible? I’m not stupid, I knew that as long as the Old Sword Immortal thought I was okay and didn’t hate me, then our matter was set.”

Jiang Shangzhen and Cui Dongshan exchanged glances. Even if one was a playboy who had been in all the brothels and the other knew nothing of love, they thought the scene was beautiful.

When Chen Ping’an traveled to the Sword Qi Great Wall for the second time, Liu Xianyang arrived a little later. After a long time, Ning Yao revealed a secret, that the Old Sword Immortal would continue to wait and see if it was worth returning the wooden box. At the time, Chen Ping’an was confused. Logically speaking, even if a wooden box had a history, why would the Old Sword Immortal feel it was worth it? Therefore, after listening to Ning Yao’s words, Chen Ping’an could not help but repeatedly think about the matter, what secrets were hidden and what key thing had he ignored? Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of anything even if he broke his head. In the prison where Lao Long’er was in charge and in the Summer Resort Palace where he became a hidden official, he directly asked the Old Sword Immortal twice, but the Old Sword Immortal’s skill in shirking responsibility was truly excellent, easily diverting the topic and sending the new hidden official away.

He remembered that the West Yue Mountain God, Tong Wenchang, had once asked Chen Ping’an face to face what kind of person the Old Sword Immortal was.

Chen Ping’an smiled and replied, “The Old Sword Immortal is kind, amiable, approachable, and easy to talk to…” Of course Tong Wenchang wasn’t stupid and didn’t believe it.

Wu Shuangjiang said, “Perhaps the Old Sword Immortal is too powerful, has lived for too long, so that it is easy for the local sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall to ignore an unimportant fact.”

“They all forgot that Chen Qingdu is a ghost.”

Chen Ping’an successfully refined his natal objects in the Ning House. Zuo You, who had been paying attention to this retreat, asked Chen Qingdu if Chen Ping’an could refine a natal flying sword. Chen Qingdu’s answer was very interesting, retorting, “Can natal flying swords be given away casually?” Zuo You refused to give up and insisted that Chen Qingdu give a definite answer. Chen Qingdu could only say a few more words, using an explanation of “one in return for one.” Chen Ping’an himself was a sword box and a scabbard. As for whether he could successfully refine a sword, it depended on his destiny.

Wu Shuangjiang couldn’t help but chuckle and commented, “Zuo You is an upright gentleman after all and cannot understand the thoughts of an old sword cultivator who has lived for ten thousand years.”

Jiang Shangzhen said telepathically, “Palace Master Wu’s words are rude, doesn’t it mean that Sword Immortal Zuo is too young and the Old Sword Immortal is not upright enough?”

Cui Dongshan said unhappily, “His words are all fair, Zuo the idiot doesn’t have these intricacies. If Chen Qingdu didn’t have some schemings, could he really have become the leader of the criminal sword cultivators and help the Sword Qi Great Wall stand firm and disgust the barbarians for ten thousand years?”

Jiang Shangzhen asked curiously, “How does Wu Shuangjiang know these things?”

Cui Dongshan said, “When doing the same thing, you only accomplish one or two things, but Wu Shuangjiang and the like advance on all fronts and take everything into consideration. Therefore, even with the same length of cultivation, there will be a huge difference in their “Dao age”.”

Wu Shuangjiang smiled, “At the time, the Old Sword Immortal said to Zuo You, “Born with heaven’s favor, born in response to the times,” which seemed like a general Taoist term, but no word was empty.”

“Chen Qingdu is the God of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Whoever can gain Chen Qingdu’s favor is not born with heaven’s favor? The sacrifice official Yan Guo is missing, the criminal official Hao Su is useless, the old hidden official Xiao Xuan has betrayed, who is the new hidden official?”

“The barbarian demon clan launched a large-scale attack on the Sword Qi Great Wall, determined to win, which is the accumulated tribulation of the Sword Qi Great Wall for ten thousand years. You replaced Ning Yao and fought Li Zhen one-on-one, which is to bear the karma for Ning Yao. You successfully retreated in the Ning House and finally gave birth to two natal flying swords, which Chen Ping’an named Cage Bird and Well Moon respectively. Afterwards, he became the last hidden official by luck, responsible for guarding the Summer Resort Palace. In short, Chen Ping’an is the one who replaced Ning Yao in responding to the times.”

Before the three Taoist patriarchs dispersed their Dao, they gathered in the Li Zhu Paradise. The Taoist Ancestor visited the small town on an ox and walked with Chen Ping’an for a while, passing by the old locust tree site, asking Chen Ping’an to guess if the Old Sword Immortal had returned the locust-wood sword box. Chen Ping’an said he couldn’t guess. The Taoist Ancestor smiled and said that he would have a chance to know in the future.

Wu Shuangjiang temporarily changed the subject and asked Chen Ping’an, “When the Master of the Green Sky Cave visited Falling Phoenix Mountain last time, he may have had the intention of revealing the mystery to you.”

“Why did the Master of the Green Sky Cave suddenly change his mind? Did something offend this senior?”

“Did the Master of the Green Sky Cave not see the Immortal Guard Daoist and Xiao Mi Li?”

Chen Ping’an looked strange and did not explain anything.

Wu Shuangjiang smiled, “It doesn’t matter, knowing this sooner or later will not affect the overall situation, everything will still be the same.”

Outside the Cage Bird and Well Moon, the unnamed third green flying sword slowly revolved around Chen Ping’an.

Last time, he temporarily decided to take Xiao Mo on a trip to the Five-Colored World, mainly to see Ning Yao and to see the current situation of the Ascending City.

One of the anomalies was that Chen Ping’an keenly sensed that the entire Ascending City was like a Taoist cultivator who had given birth to a nascent soul with intelligence, like Ning Yao’s immortal sword “Innocence.”

At the time, Chen Ping’an mistakenly thought that the sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall had received the protection of the Old Sword Immortal and the legacy sword Dao, so he didn’t rush to enter the city, fearing conflict.

When he met Ning Yao, he was surprised to find that even she was kept in the dark and did not know about it either.

Later, he went to the Chen House on Tai Xiang Street and met the old sword immortal Chen Xi, who had changed his name to Chen Ji in this life. Chen Ping’an mistakenly thought that the other party had known this for a long time, so he didn’t bother to mention it.

Chen Ping’an muttered to himself, “I see.”

Only because this temporarily unnamed natal flying sword had met its true master.

This flying sword had been waiting in Ascending City for the arrival and reunion of the last hidden official.

It was like the joy of a ignorant child seeing relatives and elders, and a bit of grievance, silently complaining, “Why did you only come now?”

Bearing the true name of the demon race, merging with the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Of course, it had to be a sword cultivator.

There had to be an inextricable and far-reaching karma with the barbarian demon race.

The Sword Qi Great Wall had no graves, so there was nowhere to worship. The nameless plaques on the walls of the wine shop were like the smallest tombstones.

In fact, A-Liang had already noticed the signs and took the initiative to find the Old Sword Immortal, asking to replace Chen Ping’an, using the lame excuse that his realm was higher.

The Old Sword Immortal said that he couldn’t do it, forced melons are not sweet. To make this happen, it had little to do with the sword cultivator’s realm and depended on people’s hearts.

A-Liang refused to accept and said, “Am I not popular in the Sword Qi Great Wall? Am I worse than that kid Chen Ping’an?”

The Old Sword Immortal grunted and did not refute, nodding, “About the same, inside and out, from a distance and up close, the reputation is very good.”

A-Liang felt a little guilty.

“It’s not that you can’t do this, but that Chen Ping’an is more suitable.”

The Old Sword Immortal said, “How much suffering a person can endure, they can enjoy how much happiness. Cui Chan, as a senior brother, doesn’t feel sorry for his junior brother, so why should I be pretentious.”

Wu Shuangjiang asked, “Do you remember everything?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded.

Wu Shuangjiang had not only been to the Five-Colored World’s Ascending City, but had also been a teacher there.

Of course, it was not just to block some disasters for Ascending City and to see the excitement of the new world.

“At the time, Cui Chan went to the city gate to pick you up and told you a lot of the truth, and also taught you a magic that he was best at.”

The two of you, senior brothers, had already discussed the follow-up steps, without the need to be too detailed and matched everywhere. Otherwise, it would be too much force and not natural enough.

Your realm was too low at the time, and your Dao was too shallow, so you could only rely on this to deceive the heavens. The dreams that Cui Chan gave you were also a cover.

In Tongye Continent, Chen Ping’an relied on the guidance of the Changqi sword to enter the Lotus Root Paradise and had a bitter battle with Ding Ying, the rightful “first person under heaven” at the time.

The handy weapon was the Changqi sword.

It was also in that fight that Chen Ping’an presented his most proud sword with a tacit understanding. It seemed that at that moment, he had truly gained the approval of the Changqi sword.

Drawing the sword is releasing sound. To make this world have to listen.

How many people and things are covered in mist and wear out their straw shoes without finding them. How many opportunities are there to see the sun through the clouds without any effort.

It’s wonderful, but it can’t be said. It is profound and mysterious, and the effort is poor.

This is probably climbing the mountain and cultivating the Dao. It is both ethereal and substantial everywhere.

It is due to the Sword Qi Great Wall, generations of sword cultivators, that made the Haoran World have ten thousand years of recuperation. The Master of the Azure Cloud Cave in Guan Dao Temple has to bear the favor because of the place where he merged with the Dao.

Therefore, the old Taoist Master had that conversation with Chen Ping’an because you carried Chen Qingdu’s Changqi sword, he made an exception and allowed you to enter the Lotus Root Paradise with your complete skin and body.

When Chen Ping’an was thrown out of the Paradise by the old Taoist Master, he was no longer carrying the Changqi sword. Chen Ping’an asked the reason, and the old Taoist Master replied that he would return the sword to Chen Qingdu himself.

Borrowing the Changqi sword meant taking on karma, and the karma to be taken on was the great karma between Ning Yao and the demon race, and between the Sword Qi Great Wall and the barbarian world!

Chen Qingdu did not hide this from Chen Ping’an at all. Before lending the Changqi sword, he directly told the youth, “You have to take on karma, and great karma.”

At the time, Chen Ping’an was quite happy. It seemed that he could finally do something for his beloved girl.

The old man, standing alone on the city wall, always found it interesting when he thought of this, “Isn’t he a little fool?”

Chen Qingdu’s natal flying sword, Duckweed, had already been shattered in the Battle of Holding Moon Mountain ten thousand years ago.

Chen Ping’an looked at the green flying sword.

It was hard-won and a bit hard.

I have a Changqi sword, and the city’s sword Qi is long.

Chen, Changqi sword. Sword Qi is long, City.

Ten thousand years later, the last hidden official led the second sword to cut down Holding Moon Mountain.

The one who stood alone on the city wall in the middle was the green-robed swordsman Chen Ping’an, who returned to the ruins of the Sword Qi Great Wall and carved the word “Duckweed”.

The third natal flying sword is named “Qing Ping.”