Chapter Seventy: Kneeling Before the True Immortal at the Gates of Wanghai City

After Wen Qiaoqiao's intervention, the villagers of Riverbank dared not covet the Muddy Village fields again.

The next day, the seedlings that had been uprooted were replanted, but since it was midday, many still withered and died. Over the following days, the villagers were busy replenishing the seedlings on the ridges.

After this incident, those living outside the Border City became much more cautious. Though they were no longer governed by the city magistrates, they feared the swordswoman of Muddy Village and the nephew of the captain.

The days moved into mid-May, with the heat rising daily. The celestial official in Border City seemed quite at ease, having settled in for over half a month.

Every day, Zhong Ming would hear Da Cheng Fei bring news: Yu Tu was preaching on a stage in the city; Yu Tu was drinking at a tavern, personally inscribing a sign for the tavern named "Musical Immortal Residence"; Yu Tu and Tian Xingjian were playing chess atop the city walls, drawing crowds of thousands…

The Pure Moon Celestial Official had become the center of attention these days. Even if the city's residents had not seen him, they heard his name; most had become his followers.

What a masterful way to win hearts.

Zhong Ming knew this was orchestrated by Baiyu Jing. Since it did not disturb his own life, he merely listened each day and asked no further questions.

The sky was high, clouds light, and the morning breeze stirred the shifting mists.

In the fenced courtyard, Zhong Ming stood in the center, hands gripping his blade, eyes tightly shut.

He had maintained this posture for an incense stick's length of time. An ordinary person would have numb legs just from standing so long, let alone holding a blade, but Zhong Ming was like a clay statue, unmoving.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, his body began to tremble slightly—he was nearing exhaustion.

Suddenly, Zhong Ming opened his eyes. His hands moved, blade sweeping upward, then shifting to a thrust, transforming a slash into a chop. He practiced the set of blade techniques in one fluid motion, seamless as flowing water.

When he finished, Zhong Ming reversed his grip on the Absolute Echo blade, exhaled deeply, and walked to the stone table to drink cool tea.

The young man in the courtyard held his cup, sipping tea, lost in thought.

In the corner of the courtyard, the willow branch planted days ago had sprouted, growing sturdier.

The morning breeze stirred Zhong Ming's robes and the willow branch alike.

The blade technique he practiced was not the "Three Gales," but an external style he had obtained from Old Daoist Zhang, called "Thirteen Thunderstrikes."

Ordinarily, such an external style would not catch Zhong Ming's eye. If not for a recent epiphany, he would never have sought out such techniques.

After hearing that Hua Wuyu had entered the Heavenly Gang rankings with sword moves alone, Zhong Ming realized that to reach legendary status in the martial world, one must not simply cultivate internal energy, but pursue both internal and external mastery.

Training only in forms is a path, yet much harder than combining internal and external skills.

Since the combined method is widely spread, it is naturally the simplest and best suited for those seeking martial perfection.

Practicing only forms is many times harder, and requires exceptional talent.

As Zhong Ming's dantian was sealed, he could not cultivate internal energy even if he wished. So, in recent days, he sought out three external blade techniques from Old Daoist Zhang, hoping to find a path to martial perfection through sword moves.

To gain enlightenment like Hua Wuyu through sword forms is no easy feat, demanding talent, timing, and artistic conception—without decades of effort, it is impossible.

Zhong Ming did not hope for instant transcendence. He simply wished to learn a few more moves, to broaden his understanding of blade techniques, not seeking mastery of every style, but hoping to glimpse their essence and open new avenues for his training.

Thus, he had managed to practice the three sets of blade techniques to a reasonable degree within several days.

The elusive realm of artistic conception was beyond him, but his body had improved considerably.

Training different blade techniques daily exercised all parts of his body, suppressing the cold within his dantian; in recent days, he no longer felt the chill burrowing into his tailbone.

After practicing external techniques, Zhong Ming began to appreciate the importance of variation in moves.

When he first practiced "Three Gales," he depended too much on the eruption of internal energy, focusing solely on the earth-shaking aura of the blade's force, neglecting the variation in form.

These days of practice had allowed him to carefully ponder the variations within the "Three Gales."

The "Three Gales" comprised only three moves: Rolling Sandstorm, Turbulent Water Moon, and Stroking Hills.

But that did not mean each move must be rigid, unchanging.

Based on the blade force of Rolling Sandstorm, Zhong Ming devised two variations.

Rolling Sandstorm was a dragging move, emphasizing thrust and sweep, with force emitted from the blade tip. Zhong Ming considered changing the dragging move to a chop or horizontal sweep, which could also be effective.

The method of exerting force remained the same, only the application of the move changed.

Before mastering Turbulent Water Moon, this variation served as a good transition.

Sitting at the stone table, Zhong Ming drank tea while contemplating improvements to Rolling Sandstorm; each added variation meant greater ability to protect himself.

Outside the courtyard, Da Cheng Fei called out, "Brother Ming, I've got new information!"

In recent days, Da Cheng Fei had been gathering news in Border City. Everyone knew that after Yu Tu injured Zhong Ming and Zhang Daozhen, they had become rivals, so it was essential to track the enemy's movements.

Though Zhong Ming had never given orders, Da Cheng Fei remained diligent in bringing him news.

Da Cheng Fei entered the courtyard, poured himself tea with practiced ease, and began, "Brother Ming, I heard today that the celestial officials in the city are preparing something—there's a tall platform set up outside the broken city wall, seems they're about to perform a ritual."

"A ritual outside the city? Are you sure you heard correctly?"

This made Zhong Ming suspicious; in recent days, no matter what happened, Yu Tu had not left Border City, for stepping outside meant entering the lawless Suiyun Mountain territory.

Da Cheng Fei nodded firmly. "No mistake, Brother Ming, I heard it clearly."

It seemed Yu Tu was up to some scheme again.

Zhong Ming thought for a moment, strapped on the Absolute Echo blade, and stood up. "Let's go see what's happening."

"Alright, Brother Ming, should I call Black Brother and the others?"

From Da Cheng Fei's tone, it sounded as if they were going to fight, and he felt they needed reinforcements.

Zhong Ming laughed. They weren't going to fight, and besides, a bunch of men with no martial skills would only risk losing their heads.

"No need, we'll just stand by the roadside and watch."

Waving his hand, Zhong Ming walked out, Da Cheng Fei hurriedly following.

The two took the path by the village toward the broken city wall. Zhong Ming walked briskly, and Da Cheng Fei struggled to keep up, his cheeks jiggling as he jogged.

Out of breath, Da Cheng Fei called out, "Brother Ming, slow down, wait for me!"

Zhong Ming hadn't deliberately quickened his pace; it was just his normal walk. He hadn't realized that his physique had improved so much from blade training, making his steps lighter.

He slowed down so Da Cheng Fei could keep up.

When they reached the broken city wall, a large crowd had already gathered.

Dense heads surrounded the city gate so tightly that Zhong Ming could not see what was happening inside.

He found a crooked old pine by the roadside, jumped up, grabbed its slanted branch, and swung himself onto the tree, crouching to peer toward the city wall.

The higher you stand, the further you see.

From this vantage, the scene below was clear.

A tall wooden platform had been erected under the city wall, with a rosewood table laden with offerings. Disciples of Baiyu Jing, dressed in elegant pale robes edged with silver, stood lined up on either side.

At the center, a figure stood atop a giant rabbit, hands clasped behind his back, surveying the crowd below.

Yu Tu glanced around, then looked up at the sun, and called out, "The auspicious hour has arrived, begin the music!"

The disciples instantly conjured crystalline instruments—qin, se, pipa, bells, drums, flutes—and played a melodious tune.

Yu Tu turned toward the broken city wall, and with a sweep of his robe, declared, "Since New Tang established its border ten days ago, Border City has held great significance for our nation. Today, as the Pure Moon Celestial Official, I name this border town!"

The moment these words were spoken, the people below all knelt, crying out, "Heaven sends the Jade Palace, may New Tang prosper forever!"

Their cries surged like waves, unceasing.

Seeing this, Zhong Ming sneered, "Yu Tu does have some skill; in half a month, he’s brainwashed these townsfolk nearly into fools."

Below, Da Cheng Fei couldn’t see and craned his neck to ask, "Brother Ming, what do you see?"

"A charlatan deceiving the masses," Zhong Ming replied with a laugh.

Da Cheng Fei scratched his head, muttering, unable to figure out what Zhong Ming meant.

Before the platform, once the crowd quieted, Yu Tu stepped forward.

A lotus of ice blossomed beneath his feet, as if cracks were spreading through the air.

Each step birthed a new lotus, elevating Yu Tu higher.

Reaching the height of the city wall, Yu Tu shook his robe, his pale hand forming a sword sign, and began to trace on the wall.

Behind him appeared a vast shadow, more than ten yards tall—its form indistinct, but a giant hand extended, following Yu Tu’s movements to inscribe on the wall.

Such a miracle inspired the crowd to shout, "Pure Moon Celestial Official, protect New Tang!"

Centuries-old city walls shed stone dust as two large characters appeared: "Wangxian"—Aspiring Immortal.

When the inscription was finished, Yu Tu returned to the giant rabbit, calling out, "Before Aspiring Immortal City, kneel to the true immortal. These two characters, Wangxian, I hope you will appreciate their meaning and not disappoint what I have bestowed."

Yu Tu had truly made a spectacle of renaming Border City.

The crowd took it to heart, contemplating the significance of the Pure Moon Celestial Official’s inscription.

Zhong Ming also examined the characters closely. They seemed strange, resembling the script on the Immortal Stone, possessing a beguiling power—not as overwhelming, though, not enough to compel one to kneel.

Next, Yu Tu glanced, intentionally or not, toward Zhong Ming’s direction, their eyes meeting.

Yu Tu smiled; Zhong Ming neither cowered nor avoided his gaze.

This surprised Yu Tu, who casually instructed the disciple behind him, "Zeng Li, you give the lecture. I’m going to meet a young friend."

"Yes, Master!" Zeng Li responded promptly.

With that, the giant white rabbit leapt, bounding over the crowd toward where Zhong Ming sat.

In the tree, Zhong Ming frowned slightly, but did not flee.

Running would be useless; if Yu Tu wanted to torment or kill him, not even the fastest horse could save him.

So Zhong Ming waited, curious what Yu Tu intended this time.

Zhong Ming remained calm atop the tree, but Da Cheng Fei below was already nervous. "Brother Ming, that damned celestial official is coming—let’s run!"

Zhong Ming was composed. "Never mind, you go, I’ll handle this."

Hearing that Zhong Ming would not leave, Da Cheng Fei gritted his teeth, leaned against the tree, turned his head away, whistled, pretending not to see Yu Tu.

His plump attempt at concealment was almost comical.

If Yu Tu truly meant to kill them both, no matter how well they pretended, death would be inevitable.