I am a swordsman in a strange city

Chapter 60 Mountain Lord Temple

Just like this Mountain God Temple, the dean clearly knew that it was being watched by the relevant departments of Luoshahai City, but he still wanted to take the risk.

In a field, the abbot of Xuanjing Academy, dressed in white robes, walked through the field. He saw a small earthen mound in the middle of the field, with a small thatched hut on the mound. He strolled over, pushed open the door, and went inside to take a look.

Then he looked around and said, "This thatched hut is quite well built. In terms of location, it is a pure yang place in this area. If there is such a place, then the temple must be in a pure yin place, echoing this place."

"The small town behind us is filled with yin energy, while this place is the eye of yang. This is yin embracing yang. I think that the mountains there must be full of yang energy, and there is a temple built on a yin land. There must be a master here. This space can exist in time and space because this place is a place where yin and yang embrace each other."

"Yin within Yang, Yang within Yin, good, good, I can't wait to see that temple."

The dean strode along the ridge of the field. The rain was still falling, but it did not fall on him. He seemed to be walking in a mirror, conspicuous and eerie in the misty rain.

When Pei Ju saw a figure emerge from the mirror, he immediately turned around, jumped off the roof, and ran towards the outer perimeter.

His arm no longer hurts much, but it's completely numb. He knows it's gone numb. Looking down, his arm hangs there, swollen beyond recognition, filled with dark purple blood.

He headed towards the outskirts, wanting to leave this area and return to the place where he was born when he first came into this world. He had wanted to go out and explore before, but he had never been able to.

Besides the fact that he always comes here at night, he also feels that he can't leave this place.

Walk in the opposite direction from the temple.

There were mountains there too, and a faint path led out from the mountains.

It's as if people came out of this path many years ago, but they stopped going out, so the path has been eaten up by grass and trees.

Using his sword as a staff, he brushed away the snakes blocking his path and cut through the thorns. The further he went, the more precipitous and secluded the mountain seemed. Gradually, he began to feel that he was not leaving the mountain, but entering it.

Looking back at the path I came from, all I could see were the branches and thorns I had cut down in the distance, while further away, the mountain mist and moisture blocked my view.

He looked up at the sky. The forest was dense with leaves, and all he could hear was a cacophony of noise—the sound of raindrops hitting the leaves, like a strange, dense drumbeat that was irritating.

He took a deep breath to calm his unease, tightened his grip on the sword hilt, regained his courage, and continued forward.

When roaming the martial world, some say they rely on loyalty, some say they rely on their eloquence, some say they rely on their keen eyesight, and some say they rely on the sword in their hand.

Uncle San said that what one relies on when roaming the martial world is passion and courage.

Without passion and courage, all skills are meaningless.

He strode forward, but there was almost no path ahead. He was just going by instinct. The mountain fog was so thick that he could no longer see the way forward.

After walking for a while, the trees ahead suddenly thinned out, and as we continued forward, we saw a patch of light.

I looked around and found myself in a valley surrounded by mountains, with a temple nestled among them.

There was a cluster of firelight inside the temple.

From a distance, the firelight appeared as a single point, shining through the temple's door, its light scattered and indistinct, like stars in the sky.

Pei Ju's heart skipped a beat as he realized a possibility.

Shanjun Temple.

I've actually ended up at the Sanjun Temple.

He hesitated, wondering whether he should go over or turn back.

He went through his grandfather's words and his father's admonitions in his notes, and finally he realized that many things are useless to think about until they come to a head, and some things, when they come to a head, actually have no choice. He saw his third uncle's words again: in the end, what matters in life is passion and courage.

He now knows that his third uncle is the remnant spirit of his father, who guided him on his journey through the martial world.

Perhaps this was the father's last obsession.

He sheathed his sword, took a deep breath, tugged at his clothes, and smoothed his rain-soaked hair.

There were people in the temple, his ancestors, his father, and he instinctively didn't want them to see him in such a sorry state.

“Although the Pei family’s children are young, they are already capable of continuing the family business, carrying on the family legacy, and continuing the family line.”

This is a phrase he has used to motivate himself ever since he was old enough to understand things. When he was little, other children had adults pick them up and drop them off at school, but he didn't. When he was scared, this phrase would motivate him.

No matter where he goes or what he does, everyone else has an adult with them, but he is always alone. When he feels uneasy, he will use this sentence to encourage himself.

And now, he repeated those words in his mind over and over again.

Step by step forward, step by step forward.

Silence filled the air; the rain had stopped sometime earlier, and the flame was becoming increasingly clear.

He also saw the temple shrouded in firelight.

It was a temple built from mountain rocks and large trees, built against the mountainside. He couldn't tell the direction, so he didn't know which way the temple gate faced.

The steps outside the temple were covered with weeds, but it was clear that the steps were made of mountain stones. He walked up step by step.

There wasn't even a chirp of insects around; it was eerily quiet, like a place where wild beasts lay dormant, where no living creature or animal dared to approach.

As he got closer, he saw an old wooden plaque hanging above the temple gate, with words carved on it, which were already blurred, but he could still vaguely make out three characters.

Shanjun Temple.

He took a deep breath, wiped his face with his right hand, pulled at his clothes, smoothed his hair, and raised his left hand, which was holding a sword, to his waist.

After that, he stepped forward and came to the threshold, thinking of the taboos of his sword hall.

He stepped over the threshold of the temple with his left foot and went inside. The first thing he saw was the statue of the deity.

The statue is now obscured by tree branches growing in from behind the mountain wall, making it difficult to see clearly, but it is still possible to see that the statue's head has been severed.

He wanted to look again, but a bad feeling flashed through his mind, and a sense of unease welled up inside him, so he immediately looked away.

His gaze then fell on the fire on the ground, which was not burning brightly, as if it was about to go out because no one had added firewood for a long time.

He took a closer sniff and discovered a faint scent of incense in the temple.

With a slight frown, just as he was about to take another look at the temple, he heard footsteps outside. He immediately stepped aside, to a corner of the temple that he could use his light-footed skills to leap out from.

He stopped and heard someone say, "Sangun Temple, we've finally arrived."

Turning around, I saw an old man in a white robe step into the temple from outside.

(End of this chapter)