"Clang..."
"Clang..."
"Clang..."
Several resonant ancient bell tolls echoed across the entire Lingshan mountain as a wisp of dawn light spilled down from above the clouds.
Lingshan Temple was situated right upon Lingshan, serving as the sacred sanctuary of the Buddhist Sect within the Holy Dynasty.
All Buddhist teachings under heaven originated from Lingshan, and a single Zen Staff commanded the entire Buddhist Sect.
"Master Wúchén," Li Qingshan said, bringing his palms together and offering a Buddhist greeting to the white-bearded old monk inside the meditation room.
Master Wúchén sat cross-legged on the platform, simply gazing quietly at the man before him: "Benefactor Li, these past six years have long since washed away your karmic obstacles. Mortal matters belong to the mortal realm; you may descend the mountain, settle all worldly affairs, and then return to Lingshan, where this old monk shall personally shave your head."
"Master, your junior has long since left worldly affairs behind," Li Qingshan closed his eyes.
"Matters are not something you can pretend not to see simply by closing your eyes," Master Wúchén smiled and tapped Li Qingshan gently. "From the perspective of appearance: the body is the Bodhi tree, the mind a bright mirror stand; diligently wipe it hour by hour, and let no dust alight. Yet from the perspective of true nature: originally there is no Bodhi tree, nor is there a mirror stand; since all is fundamentally empty, where could dust alight? Follow your heart, you foolish child, foolish child."
Li Qingshan offered another bow: "That sword six years ago shattered my blade, and indeed such a shadow has lingered in my heart ever since. Today I descend the mountain as a disciple of Lingshan, to sever the mortal dust."
"Foolish child, foolish child, you have not yet received the tonsure; you cannot yet be considered a Lingshan disciple."
Unfazed, Li Qingshan offered another Buddhist greeting: "After today, I shall be known as Jian Chi of Lingshan."
...
"How is there not even a ruined temple to be found? We're going to have to sleep on the ground again."
Having searched the entire night without finding a single sheltered spot to weather the wind and rain, Xia Yun was deeply dejected.
"This is the jianghu for you; walking the jianghu means you can't expect a roof over your head every single night," Chen Xiaofei said, lighting the firewood he had gathered as he offered comfort. "This place isn't too bad, except for a few more mosquitoes and bugs."
"Hmph, leave the bugs to me." Xia Yun retrieved a bottle of medicinal pills from her bodice, examined them, selected a red pill, and shoved it straight into her mouth. "This is the Miasma-Warding Pill. No miasma or bugs—once you swallow it, you don't have to fear a thing."
"There are such good things? Miaojiang is truly extraordinary." Chen Xiaofei's eyes lit up as he happily reached out his hand toward Xia Yun.
Xia Yun happily searched through the bottle as well, then suddenly her expression crumpled into one of utter despair: "There's only one left."
"One is one; you're the one eating it anyway, it didn't go into my mouth. Why are you making that face?" Chen Xiaofei felt completely baffled.
"The Miasma-Warding Pill is right here..." Xia Yun fished out a black pill from the bottle.
"Then what did you just eat?" Chen Xiaofei remembered that one seemed to be red.
Xia Yun burst into tears: "I checked, and a Seven-Toxins Pill is missing! That means I ate it!"
"Ah?" Chen Xiaofei panicked as well. How could such a thing happen? "What should we do? Sit down cross-legged, and I'll channel my inner energy to force the poison out for you."
"No need," Xia Yun wept.
"Why not? That's poison!" Chen Xiaofei jumped up, wanting to reach out and pull Xia Yun over.
"We practice poison arts, you know. Poison doesn't work on us."
Chen Xiaofei froze in place, his outstretched hand suspended mid-air: "Then what are you crying for?"
"I'm crying because I still can't tell my pills apart, and if I go back, my mother is going to scold me to death."
Chen Xiaofei meekly handed back the Miasma-Warding Pill he had casually picked up, then sat back down.
If she couldn't tell her pills apart, how dared she just eat them at random...
"I'm quite curious about your poison arts. Is it like the legends say—tasting a hundred poisons? If you haven't mastered the poison arts yet and can't endure it, wouldn't you just die?" Chen Xiaofei poked at the twigs in the fire and asked out of curiosity.
"Of course not. We raise Gu Insects since childhood, practice the poison arts using the Gu Insects, and finally slowly absorb the Gu," Xia Yun put the pills away and sat down next to Chen Xiaofei. "Do you want to see a Gu Insect?"
"No thanks, I'll pass."
Xia Yun wore a look of utter pity: "He's really very cute."
"Your patriarch truly had a brain, being able to think of such a method to turn the miasma of Miaojiang into your natural barrier," Chen Xiaofei hurriedly changed the subject, expressing his admiration.
"Not at all, the patriarch was very stupid," Xia Yun retorted. "At the very beginning, we didn't practice poison; we only started doing it later."
"What a rebellious thought!" Chen Xiaofei clicked his tongue. "Careful your patriarch crawls out to beat you."
"Because there were a lot of mosquitoes and bugs in Miaojiang, and the patriarch found them terribly annoying, he figured since the mosquitoes sucked our blood, we should just put poison in our blood to poison them to death," Xia Yun replied with a completely straight face. "That's what my mother told me."
"Wow, what a unique reason!" Chen Xiaofei applauded.
"It's just that at first the patriarch didn't know how to put poison in the blood, so he could only eat poison himself. After eating so many people to death, someone finally managed to refine it and said, 'Why should we eat poison ourselves? Why not just feed it to the bugs?' That's when we started practicing Gu."
"Wow, what a bizarre history of development. Your patriarch must have been held in extremely high esteem in Miaojiang." Chen Xiaofei exclaimed.
Xia Yun raised her chin proudly: "Of course. Back then there were many medicinal herbs in Miaojiang, and the patriarch tested every single one to figure out which ones killed people when eaten and which ones didn't."
"Since your Miaojiang still preserves your bloodline today, you really ought to thank your patriarch properly—it was only because he showed restraint."
...
"Have you heard? Today in the Group Yi martial arts bouts, a nine-foot-tall giant appeared, wielding a giant axe even taller than himself, and smashed Luofou Pavilion's Chen Xiao unconscious in just two moves."
Nighttime restaurants in Wudu were always bustling with activity, and after a full day of matches, nearly all the jianghu travelers would loudly hold forth inside the taverns.
"I was there, I saw it. Oh dear lord, he was literally just like a wild bull," one jianghu traveler recalled that previous scene, still lingering with fear.
"I've never heard of this fellow Niu San before. He's from the Northwest—could he be one of the Iron Ox Guards? I heard that when he entered the city, he even brought quite a few cavalrymen along."
"What are you imagining? Absolutely not. If he were a member of the Iron Ox Guards, I'd eat this plate right now. Military men are not allowed to participate in jianghu affairs; that is the ironclad rule of the Holy Dynasty—jianghu matters are settled in the jianghu," the man who had compared Niu San to a wild bull said with absolute certainty.
"What a nice thought, 'jianghu matters are settled in the jianghu'. The imperial court claims it doesn't meddle in the jianghu, but didn't they still establish the Tianji Pavilion to take charge of jianghu affairs?" Someone laughed aloud at the other's naivety.
"What does the Tianji Pavilion have to do with ordinary people like us? As for the struggles between those major sects, we jianghu folk just look for a carefree life; we won't bow for five bushels of grain, and we keep our backs straight," declared a man with a prominent mole at the corner of his mouth, looking exceedingly resolute.
Suddenly, a man stepped into the restaurant, and everyone instantly fell silent.
The newcomer stood nine feet tall and wore brocaded silk.
It was none other than Niu San.
"Landlord, are there any empty tables?" Niu San bellowed as soon as he crossed the threshold.
Before the landlord could come out to answer, the man with the mole at the corner of his mouth stood up: "Brother Niu, come sit with us."
"Over here, over here! You can sit at my table too."
Niu San laughed heartily as he walked over to the side of the man who had spoken first and sat down: "Many thanks, brother."
"Who's calling me?" The restaurant proprietor emerged from the back kitchen at that moment, failing to spot anyone who resembled the person who had just entered.
"Landlord, do you have a story-teller? Have him spin a tale about this Martial Arts Tournament," Niu San patted the table and shouted toward the proprietor.
The proprietor scratched his head awkwardly: "I haven't hired one yet."
"I'll pay for it! Go hire one for me—get a good one, I've got plenty of money!" Niu San declared with grand generosity.
"Brother Niu, you might not know this, but my profession happens to be story-telling," the man with the mole at the corner of his mouth chimed in shyly. "It's not really about the money or anything; I just love story-telling, especially telling stories for my Brother Niu."