Mysterious Martial Arts: The Record of the Swordsman

Chapter 304 A mournful cry echoes from the river tower.

The rain and mist shrouded the deep mountains, making the slippery mountain path painful to run on. The two of them stumbled along, their soaked robes clinging to their backs. Their lungs felt like they might burst at any moment, but the pain in their wounds overwhelmed everything else. It felt like needles rolling around, each step drilling into their bones.

Those are the marks of those who have escaped death. Even though the excruciating pain of being pierced by swords and falling off cliffs has subsided, it still tugs at their nerves in these continuous, misty, rainy days, reminding them that danger has never gone too far.

The sharp edges of the roadside rocks and the intersecting branches cast pointed shadows in the rain and mist. When the wind blew, those shadows seemed to sway, much like the light marks that tore through the darkness in their corneas when they had just recovered.

Before anyone knew it, smoke began to rise from the shadows. It was grayish-black and rose uncontrollably, crawling along the puddles of the rugged mountain path, like an invisible snail wriggling.

The reflection in the puddle at the foot of my foot looked as if it had formed a layer of fine ice, but the ice melted as soon as it formed, leaving only a chilling coldness clinging to my ankle.

The two trembled and became alert, but the fear in their eyes involuntarily grew stronger and stronger—

Even when they crawled back from the brink of death, they had never seen anything like this: plumes of smoke shrouded the sharp shadows of rocks, gradually forming a blurry outline, like crouching wolves or lurking tigers, silently howling and constantly changing. One second they were sharp, the next they melted into smoke, and when they condensed again, they had already drifted to the back of a tree five steps away, watching them with a sinister gaze.

"I can't keep running around like this... I feel like I'm about to collapse!"

A deep voice spoke, seemingly able to sense the heavy pressure of clenched fists, as if the bones and tendons of the body were being combed through, trying to use brute force to regain control of the frightened horses within the body.

"Don't stop! If this is another dream, you won't be able to wake up if you stop!"

The other voice was hoarse and angry. His strength was already failing him. He felt his stomach churning violently. When he bent over, his fingertips touched the ground. He was shocked to find that he couldn't even gather his internal energy. His already shallow internal energy was colliding in his meridians like hitting cotton, dissipating faster than the morning mist.

So the two of them used their last weapon, the one that had sustained their will to overcome evil and break through the mystery. They stared at the increasingly obvious strange signs in the distance, while the shadows in the trees seeped down the sharp angles of the branches, like ink being poured into rice paper, first staining the branches black, then crawling down to the ground, and finally even the grass was darkened.

The two men were pale and drenched in cold sweat, yet they stood back to back with remarkable tacit understanding, each adopting a boxing stance. One man's hips were spread apart as if he were about to leap up, while the other's hips were level, ready to shift and change positions at any moment, seeking a sliver of hope. Suddenly, they let out a low shout, and the two men unleashed a flurry of punches. The force of their punches swept across the dark tree branches, yet they encountered no resistance whatsoever, as if striking a dreamlike cloud.

However, the two did not relax for a moment, because their encounter in the dilapidated temple a few days ago was just like this. The originally gentle and peaceful candlelight in the hall suddenly burst out with a sound, and sparks flew and crackled.

In that instant, they saw clearly that in the firelight were countless shadows pieced together into incomplete shapes—hollow, vertical, broken, flickering in the smoke, all without a solid form, relentlessly circling the offering table, faster and faster, the smoke spreading and engulfing the moss, then smothering the candlelight until only a sliver remained, making it almost impossible to see each other's faces...

A moment of distraction, and one of them noticed a bloody gash on his calf, bleeding even though the wound wasn't visible; another felt a burning pain creeping up his fingertips from the back of his hand, and a thin bloodstain appeared on his arm; the two had just forced a move that left their chests feeling tight, and suddenly another bloody gash appeared on their shoulders, causing them to gasp in pain.

The wounds on his body had become countless, the pain from old and new injuries mingling together, even his breath carried the smell of blood. As the bloody smell slowly dissipated, a strange fragrance lingered in his nostrils—

This was no scent one would expect from the mountains. First came the musty smell of decaying leaves mixed with pine resin. Before one could catch their breath, the pungent, metallic odor of rust and the acrid sweetness of tobacco seeped into their lungs with each breath. And from the rain and mist, even more subtle, gliding sounds emerged. Countless things were pouring out from the back of the deep mountains, clinging tightly to them...

………………

Inside the magnificent hall, two people sat facing each other with polite smiles on their faces. Hong Wending, Xiao Shitou, and other disciples were nowhere to be seen. Only Fu Ningdie's little head was bobbing back and forth downwind, focused on boiling a pot of water.

"This hall stands majestically atop a strange peak, offering panoramic views of the morning and evening clouds and mist from its entrance. Even for someone like me who has traveled far and wide, this is truly a rare sight..."

The middle-aged man spoke eloquently, and what he said was indeed true. The main hall had seven bays in width and three bays in depth, with a single-eave hip roof and a front eaves corridor. All thirty-two pillars were carved with dragon, tiger, phoenix and luan patterns, blending seamlessly with the towering mountain. From a distance, it looked as if it were embedded among the green peaks. The three characters "Wuyi School" on the huge rock outside the hall were written with strong strokes and powerful strokes that penetrated the stone, which was indeed unforgettable.

Jiang Wen clearly accepted the compliment, a hint of pride in his eyes.

This grand hall alone contains a main hall, two side halls, three main rooms, and more than ten wing rooms, all interconnected like a maze. The roof tiles are neat and sturdy, completely getting rid of the embarrassment of the old leaky thatched hut. If you don't show it off in front of these people, it's like wearing brocade in the dark.

"Haha, Master Yuan, you flatter me. You really are too late. You missed the chance to see the coffin in the side hall. That Mani Buddha with its belly ripped open was truly lifelike!"

Yuan Chengzhi thought to himself, "This is strange. This person is strange. Was I not clear enough just now?"
"Sect Leader Jiang, as the sun sets behind Chongshan, I have come to inform you of something. The situation in Guangzhou is currently volatile, and we are still in danger of losing our city at any moment. I believe we still need to..."

"Yes, Shanxi cuisine is low-class and not presentable. In my opinion, Cantonese cuisine from Guangdong is the best. The best Cantonese cuisine is from Yangquan Restaurant in Guangzhou. Chef Liu, who is in charge of the kitchen, became a master chef at a young age..."

"Ahem, Sect Leader Jiang, we weren't talking about cooking..."

"Oh, I'm not cooking. It's time to cook. What kind of food do you usually like to eat, and are there any customs about eating at the table where you're from?"

Then came a deadly silence.

Yuan Chengzhi's eyelids twitched. Even with his extremely high level of self-control and inner cultivation, he could hardly suppress his expression. He couldn't figure out what the Wuyi Sect leader was up to.

He had come to Wuyishan to help Jiang Wen out of a small favor, without telling his wife. Now that things were settled, he should have taken his leave, but this man was keeping him mysteriously trapped in the main hall. Every time, he would just say whatever came to mind, and they never got to the point where he had to say goodbye.

"Sect Leader Jiang, if there's anything you need to say, please speak frankly!"

Yuan Chengzhi finally couldn't help but stand up abruptly, and only then did Jiang Wen's eyes become serious.

"To be honest, Jiang Wen is like a frog in a well, only seeing the sky from the bottom of the well every day. Who knew that the tree could not remain still while the wind would blow? He can only lament that he has been living in the Wuyi Mountains for so long that he has not seen the heroes of the world..."

"You're too kind, Sect Leader."

"Brother Yuan, having traveled far and wide, you must know the heroes of this era. Please give it a try..."

"...Yuan has read Romance of the Three Kingdoms."

"Oh, I'd like to organize a martial arts tournament."

"Alright, so you wanted to start a martial arts... martial arts what?"

"Martial Arts Tournament".

Jiang Wen read those four words aloud, but Yuan Chengzhi didn't hear them at all. He secretly wondered if the Wuyi Sect leader had either ruined his mind from practicing martial arts or had been mentally damaged by Zhao Wuji's scheme.

"...Sect Leader Jiang, my disciple He Tishou is quite knowledgeable in medicine."

“That’s good, my eldest apprentice is also in dire need of medicine.”

Jiang Wen answered casually, then hurriedly waved his hand and said, "Master Yuan, don't interrupt my train of thought. Let's talk about this later."

Yuan Chengzhi felt the golden snake sword at his waist was itching to be used.

"May I ask, which school or sect does Master Yuan belong to?"

Seeing that Jiang Wen had thought things through before asking the question, Yuan Chengzhi answered frankly.

"Although I am unworthy, I have only one master, Master Mu, the 'Divine Sword Immortal Ape' of the Huashan Sect."

Upon hearing this, Jiang Wen slapped his thigh and ordered Fu Ningdie, who was staring blankly at the boiling water, "Good disciple, quickly get paper and pen and write 'Huashan Sect' on the door for me."

Yuan Chengzhi asked in surprise, "What if I, Yuan, was also a disciple of Master Mu Sang of the Iron Sword Sect and Xia Xueyi, the Golden Snake Gentleman?"

Jiang was overjoyed.

"Quick, write these two down too!"

Yuan Chengzhi lamented that decades after the death of the Golden Snake Swordsman, he was being used as a figurehead by a younger generation. Knowing that the other party was forcing him to express his opinion, he couldn't help but say something.

"Sect Leader Jiang, the Martial Arts Conference is a grand gathering for martial arts practitioners to compete, discuss the principles of martial arts, and establish rules and regulations. How can it be treated so lightly?"

"That makes sense. Master Yuan, I've heard that you became the leader of the martial arts alliance with the support of heroes from seven provinces, and you also call yourself the 'Golden Snake King,' leading the Golden Snake Camp to conquer cities and fortresses. You must have considerable experience in organizing a successful martial arts conference..."

Jiang Wen looked intently at Yuan Chengzhi, "Could you also lend a hand and call upon all the heroes of the land to gather at Wuyi Mountain?"

Yuan Chengzhi bowed with a somber expression: "Back then, I was fortunate to receive the kindness of my fellow martial arts practitioners. However, the rebel leader listened to slander and stripped the 'Golden Snake Camp' and 'Golden Snake King' of their titles. Some of the remaining brothers went to Yangzhou to assist Shi Kefa in the war, and most of them died after the city fell. Others followed me to fight against the Qing, but in the end, they were all killed or wounded. Even if some people still remember my name now, I'm afraid what they have left behind is not a good reputation."

Jiang Wen stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment before continuing.

"It's alright, you represent the three sects for now, I'll think of a way for the rest..."

Yuan Chengzhi interrupted Jiang Wen's rambling with a wry smile.

"Sect Leader Jiang, why are you so insistent on holding a martial arts conference? Could it be that you've been misled by that Yun... that Zhao Wuji's mad ramblings, which is why you're so impatient?"

Jiang Wen smiled slightly, clearly understanding what the other party meant, but he did not intend to explain.

Jiang Wen could roughly guess why Zhao Wuji was able to pinpoint his birth year and utter a string of physics names that he shouldn't be familiar with—

It's just time travel, what's so difficult about that?
The Ten Mountains Numerology Array seems to be utilizing some of the power of black holes to block the shooting of the purple dragon light. Einstein predicted long ago that black holes could be another tool for rapid time travel to the future. This is because, under the influence of gravitational acceleration, time flows much slower near the event horizon of a black hole than much further away.

For example, if one person stays in orbit above the event horizon of a supermassive black hole (e.g., the black hole's gravity is a billion times that of the sun), and another person travels to the vicinity of the event horizon and hovers there for 30 years before returning, the person outside the black hole may have aged thousands or millions of years.

Moreover, in Jiang Wen's opinion, he was not too worried about Zhao Wuji finding out about these things.

On the one hand, Jiang Wen's extraordinary martial arts skills were learned from Jin Yong's world, which is completely different from the martial arts world of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Zhao Wuji could never have imagined that he came here by relying on Liu Tu's second time travel. Therefore, knowing that he was born in 1997 could only be an awkward misunderstanding.

On the other hand, Jiang Wen never believed that he was smarter than some ancient people because he was familiar with history; nor did he believe that some ancient people were better than him just because they were familiar with history.

When one's worldview and methodology are completely incorrect, further thinking is no different from going astray in practicing martial arts. After all, the information explosion era has proven that sometimes being half-knowledgeable is more laughable than being completely ignorant.

Think about how many people online, when discussing the issue of eunuchs in the mid-to-late Tang Dynasty, immediately say "a capable official captured them," but if you tell them that eunuchs held military power, they don't know that; when discussing regional separatism, they immediately say "the Edict of Grace," but if you tell them that the basis of regional separatism was not blood ties, they don't know that.

As for deeper issues, when it comes to Japan's constitutional monarchy, he immediately says "the emperor is powerful and his army is strong." If you try to explain to him the land and economic systems upon which aristocratic politics depend, he won't listen at all. If you talk about the collapse of the Timurid Empire, he immediately says "Timur should have implemented the prefecture-county system." He doesn't even know how to summarize such a system; he can only copy the term "prefecture-county system" from a book.

Jiang Wen pondered for a moment, carefully choosing his words to explain to Yuan Chengzhi.

He hadn't intentionally acted like a rogue in front of Yuan Chengzhi, but for some reason, Yuan Chengzhi reminded him of Zhang Wuji when he was disheartened and wanted to retire from the martial arts world, which made him subconsciously know how to deal with him.

“Master Yuan, facing only the Qingyang Sect is naturally not worth my going to such lengths. But now the Wuyi Sect is forced to make a name for itself in the martial world, and this martial world has always been full of open and covert struggles. My disciples are still young. If I, as their master, do not shamelessly step out of the mountains to help them distinguish between friend and foe, they will inevitably suffer losses when they travel outside in the future.”

Jiang Wen spoke very sincerely this time, and the reasoning was the same: in the martial arts world, one relies on high martial arts skills, a great reputation, and many friends, and these three are often interdependent.

Jiang Wen's martial arts skills are high enough, but his reputation is not great enough, so he is destined not to have many friends. On the contrary, as long as the Wuyi Sect becomes famous in the martial arts world, the problem will naturally be solved.

He learned this idea from the senior monk Huixi and Luo Yuantong, the Golden Knife.

Luo Yuantong convened the "Golden Basin Washing Hands Ceremony," ostensibly a gathering where martial arts practitioners washed their hands with a golden basin as a gesture of respect, announcing their retirement from the martial world. In reality, it was a way to sever ties with past grievances, clarify his stance of no longer being involved in the troubles of the martial world, and help himself and his family to escape turmoil and enjoy lasting peace.

Then they took the opportunity to rebel.

Based on Jiang Wen's understanding of him, those who gave Luo Yuantong face at the meeting were naturally close friends and acquaintances who wouldn't lay a hand on him; but those who really came to embarrass him or even deliberately tripped him up, Luo Yuantong might very well take advantage of the dark of night to disguise himself and strike them down.

On the Wuyi Sect's side, even if Jiang Wen had another ulterior motive in doing this, none of that mattered. What mattered was that he planned to learn from the opposite perspective, to hold a grand event that would shake the martial arts world, and to use this opportunity to recognize friends, identify enemies, and settle all the rights and wrongs and grudges in the martial arts world.

Upon hearing this, Yuan Chengzhi seemed to fall into deep thought. As a senior who had retired from the martial arts world, he naturally understood many things without needing to be said. So he slowly stood up, placed the Golden Snake Sword horizontally on the tea table, and said quietly.

"Sect Leader Jiang's love for his disciple is indeed sincere, but this matter is still missing the most crucial step. Holding a meeting would be extremely difficult..."