Fengyunlu

The next second, the tip of Mo Wenjian's blade trembled slightly, and the overwhelming momentum returned. Fengchen finally understood why Lei Gong was so wary. In the past, Lei Gong had fought alone against a master like Mo Wenjian. His sheer strength alone could rival Lei Gong, even surpassing Zhou Tian. Therefore, Lei Gong had to keep a backhanded move to intimidate his opponent. His most powerful move was Snowfall from the Sky, a move that could kill with his will. Furthermore, his condition at the time was similar to Zhou Tian's, so if he used it, Mo Wenjian might not be able to stop it. But on the other hand, if he actually attacked, with his current injuries and the backlash, Thunder Mountain without reinforcements, and the Immortal Absolute Formation in turmoil, who could withstand Mo Wenjian's relentless bombardment? So, despite his imposing aura, Lei Gong didn't dare to actually use Snowfall from the Sky. He could only use it to intimidate the enemy, deterring them from any rash action, and Mo Wenjian wouldn't dare to attack with all his might.

Facts have proved that although Mo Wenjian was seriously injured, his Lei Gong could no longer be used, ensuring that he could never enter the Zhoutian again. Snow fell in the sky and flashed by. Mo Wenjian saw through the mystery inside. He waved the Changli Sword, and the power of heaven and earth spread out. A sword light turned into countless sharp sword auras, each of which had the power of a full-strength attack from the peak of the Saint level. The strongest of them was the sharpness of the Changli Sword itself, which pointed directly at Fairy Ji Yao, with murderous intent pressing in front of her.

Fairy Ji Yao's whole body stiffened, and she couldn't move smoothly. She couldn't use Xuan Ling on her body. She immediately activated all her Taiyin power. With the power of the Taiyin Mirror's origin and the double sublimation of her Taiyin Holy Body, the two complemented each other and her power reached a new level. She mobilized her true essence and poured the Taiyin power into the sword in her hand. With a flick and a flick, she barely disrupted the endless sharp edge.

In fact, she also knew that Mo Wenjian had not been serious before, so he did not use the power of Taiyin in several fights. In addition, she also realized that Mo Wenjian was intentionally feeding her moves. No matter what his purpose was, she would respond with Baiyi Sword and never used Hongzhuang Sword.

But now Mo Wenjian was so serious, it was obvious that he had murderous intentions. Fairy Ji Yao swung out a sword, and then changed her hand. A red sword immediately appeared, and the sword light shone in all directions. The Acacia Formation was activated, and the invisible sword net intertwined. In an instant, the thousands of sword energies released by Mo Wenjian were taken back and trapped in the sword net, leaving no chance for Acacia to see the formation.

"Girl, please step back first. The old man has something to ask him." Luo Hongchen interrupted at this time. His sloppy figure broke into the sword formation. As he fell down, his brows were furrowed.

"It's too late." Mo Wenjian spoke softly beside the Nine Heavens Thunder Pond, a look of desolation in his eyes: "Love in red makeup, hatred in long separation, the heartbroken lover longs for his life. What remains behind in this sword formation of longing is not the sword, but the one holding it."

His words were light and airy, as if he were reminiscing about the past, but as they fell into the sword formation, they were like Buddhist chants, disturbing the minds of both of them. Luo Hongchen, one old, one young, had a dull look in his eyes, and Fairy Ji Yao was also lost in thought. They each had their own concerns at the moment, but they were all thinking about the people they cared about. Perhaps it was longing, longing for that unforgettable figure, and also longing for the receding figure.

Someone hurried past, a white robe fluttering, long sleeves flowing. He didn't leave, nor did he wait, but when he turned around, he saw a lonely figure, desolate and trance-like, as if he had never appeared, but still unwilling to leave.

A winding path through the mountains, a bit bumpy, yet someone's thoughts were with her. A dim lantern barely shone through, and the unclear face seemed anxious, unsure if he would return, or when. As the night deepened, a gentle breeze stirred the weeds on either side, as if reminding her that, amidst the storm, what awaited her might not be what she longed for.

Suddenly someone trembled slightly, and her tears wet her clothes and the last gauze curtain at the head of the bed. She didn't dare to look, because she didn't know where Youming was and was afraid that she would not be able to find him in the end.

A breeze blew by, and someone passed by the hilltop, cut the weeds on both sides, and got his hands on the bloodstains on the ground. For some reason, the man frowned, as if summoned by something, and involuntarily walked to the top of the mountain.

The old friend left, and it seemed that he also took away the concern in his heart. Suddenly, a hatred surged in his heart, driving him to turn around and flash in an unknown direction, as if attracted by a mysterious force, to chase the passing back, to find the lost concern, and to solve the mystery in his heart.

Many years later, some people began to tell stories, saying that there used to be an evil spirit on the top of the mountain. It often carried a dim lantern in the middle of the night. The lantern was as red as blood, and the evil spirit was also blood-red. It would ask passers-by on the path one by one, saying that someone was coming there and asked them when they would arrive. No matter how you answer, it would keep asking, scaring passers-by so much that they would rather take a detour than save time on this winding path, as if the existence of the evil spirit was an invisible curse that people could not get rid of.

Later, I heard that a young man had come here one day. He was said to be a master of cultivating immortality. He went into the mountains late at night. No one knew what he experienced. They only knew that he stayed there until noon the next day. The evil spirit disappeared from then on, but the path on the mountain was destroyed. The deep ravines were unknown how deep they were. The winding path could no longer connect to the other side, as if it had been destroyed by a mysterious force, making it impossible for people to pass.

Many years passed and no one remembered what happened on the mountain. One day, a woodcutter accidentally fell into the ravine and was rescued by a sloppy old man. The woodcutter went home and said that an old immortal had come to the mountain. Unfortunately, no one in the village believed him. Until one full-moon night, a sword that covered the sky rose from the ravine into the sky, and the sloppy old man turned into a giant standing tall. People then remembered that what the woodcutter said was true, as if it was confirmed by a mysterious power, and people had to believe it.

Sadly, the sword flashed, and the giant sword that covered the sky disappeared. The old man was never heard from again, as if he had been taken away by a mysterious force, leaving no trace. In the summer, the woodcutter always wanted to go up to the mountain to take a look, but for several years, the old man never appeared. Down in the ravine, the woodcutter once lowered a rope, but the rope ran out and still couldn't reach the bottom. The sound of the wind below was like the howling of ghosts and wolves. Listening carefully, it sounded like hungry ghosts trying to escape from the endless underworld. The woodcutter was so scared that he ran back and fell ill. A few years later, he passed away, as if he had been frightened by a mysterious force that made him irresistible.

The villagers said that he was too stupid to go and see what was going on, which was why his soul was taken away by the mountain ghost. But someone didn't think so. When this person was collecting the woodcutter's body, he found a piece of red cloth in his arms. The cloth was originally white, but it was stained red with blood. The strange thing was that the blood had been there for an unknown amount of time, but it had always been wet and could not be washed off in water. Moreover, it seemed to have some kind of magic when it came into contact with living people, making people involuntarily want to go to the ravine to take a look, as if they were attracted by a mysterious force and could not extricate themselves.

The man was even more surprised and didn't dare to touch it. He was an old man in the village. When he was a child, he heard from the older generation that there were evil spirits on the mountain. So many years had passed and he was half buried in the ground. Suddenly he remembered the legend and broke out in a cold sweat. It was as if he was awakened by a mysterious power that he could never forget.

The next day, he found a monk from a nearby temple and wanted to perform a ritual to bury the woodcutter. He also wanted to return the red cloth to him to prevent it from being stained by anything. It was as if he was driven by a mysterious force that made it impossible to refuse.

But after the master arrived, he stared at the red cloth for a long time, and then, like a woodcutter, he insisted on going to the mountain to take a look. He never came back after that. The masters in the temple came one after another, but they also went into the mountains and never came out again, as if they were attracted by a mysterious force that was irresistible.

No one in the village dared to go there, and they reported the incident to the authorities. However, the soldiers sent in never returned. The officials were afraid of losing their jobs, so they ordered the mountain to be sealed off and never mentioned again. It was as if they were suppressed by a mysterious force, making it impossible to resist.

More than ten years later, the woodcutter's son grew up and sneaked into the mountain to avenge his father. However, he searched most of the mountain and even went down into the ravine to look, but he did not encounter the evil spirit he was looking for. Even the masters who went into the mountain that year and the officers and soldiers who went in later did not find a single body left. There was only a cold wind, which made people feel freezing even in the middle of summer, as if they were shrouded by a mysterious power and could not escape.

The woodcutter's son returned home, said goodbye to his mother, and said he was going to a famous mountain to learn from a master. He had heard that many famous mountains were home to masters of cultivation. He wanted to learn some skills and then return to explore the mountains to see what was going on. It was as if he was driven by a mysterious force that made him irresistible. So he visited the famous mountains in the surrounding area, but because his qualifications were too poor, no one was willing to accept him. Until one day, he was disheartened and wanted to return to the village to fulfill his filial duty to his mother. But at the village entrance, he met a slovenly old man. It was as if he was guided by a mysterious force that made him irresistible.

The old man had a kind smile on his face. He told the woodcutter's son that there seemed to be a special bond between them, so he was willing to teach him some basic martial arts so that he could go exploring in the mountains alone in the future.

The woodcutter's son had been away from home for many years. He had met many masters of cultivation and knew that one shouldn't judge a person's cultivation by appearance alone. Although the old man looked a little slovenly, he had an indescribable aura of immortality that made him seem mysterious. The woodcutter's son was delighted and immediately agreed to the old man's proposal.

The next day, the old man began formally teaching him martial arts. But soon, the old man became furious. The woodcutter's son was not only mediocre in talent but also had a poor grasp of comprehension. No matter how much the old man repeated his instructions, he just couldn't seem to grasp them. To make matters worse, the woodcutter's son was stubborn. Once he decided on something, he would stick with it, even if it meant wasting time and energy on a meaningless endeavor.

The old man taught the woodcutter's son for only three days before, disappointed by his clumsiness and stubbornness, he left some money and left. The woodcutter's son realized that his clumsiness had displeased his kind teacher, and he decided to live up to his teacher's kindness. Meanwhile, he had been longing to explore the mountain.

So, after the old man left, the woodcutter's son diligently practiced day and night. With unwavering perseverance, he mastered all the formulas left by the old man. Decades later, he finally achieved some success. During this time, he sent his elderly mother away and made several trips to the mountain to explore, but each time he returned empty-handed.

One day, he suddenly realized that he couldn't go on like this. So, he confessed everything to his fellow villagers, left the mountains, and entered the world. After twenty years of ups and downs, he finally achieved success and made a name for himself.

In the esoteric sect, whenever he was mentioned, people would describe him as a rare prodigy. He had reached the Saint-level, formless realm in less than a century of cultivation. Furthermore, because he prioritized physical training, he rarely used Taoist techniques in combat, nor did he rely on magical weapons or treasures. He acted more like a mortal warrior engaging in combat. Consequently, some sympathetic individuals bestowed upon him the title of "Martial Saint."

The reputation of Martial Saint Jiang He quickly rose, making him a force to be reckoned with within the Xuan Sect. Over the following decades, his fame only grew even more pronounced, and his cultivation reached the pinnacle of the Saint rank. His power alone was enough to rival entire sects, and his every move affected the balance between good and evil.

At this time, Di Yuan, the leader of the righteous path, approached him and asked if he would join the righteous path and truly become a Martial Saint. However, he had concerns. For years, he had long wanted to find the slovenly old man to repay his kindness. Furthermore, when he returned to his hometown years ago, he found that everything had changed. Unexpectedly, he had found a precious sword called "Nine Heavens Divine Weapon" in the ravine of that mountain.

This Nine Heavens Divine Weapon was crimson red, with the words "Hongzhuang" engraved on its blade, and it exuded the old man's lingering aura. For years, he had kept the sword close to him, hoping to return it to the old man someday. With these considerations in mind, he didn't immediately accept Di Yuan's invitation. However, Di Yuan's sincerity, coupled with his own lack of affiliation, ultimately led to the Martial Saint Jiang He being unable to resist Di Yuan's sincerity and agreeing to join the ranks.

It was during this trip to the Imperial Garden that the Martial Saint Jiang He met his mentor, the Spring and Autumn Emperor Luo Hongchen, in the Five Emperors City.

After a century of not seeing each other, Luo Hongchen had long forgotten his three days of instruction, but Martial Saint Jiang He kept it in his heart. Although he had never met Luo Hongchen, he had always admired this legendary emperor. Now that he finally had the opportunity to meet him, he never expected that he would be his mentor.

Martial Saint Jiang He fell to his knees with a thud, kowtowed, and Luo Hongchen was momentarily puzzled, as were the others in the Imperial Garden. Old Grand Tutor Yin Taixu frowned deeply. After Jiang He briefly explained, everyone smiled and congratulated Luo Hongchen, praising him for having such a talented disciple.

However, Luo Hongchen didn't care about these vulgar rituals. He was always free and easy and hated these red tape the most. Although the martial saint Jiang He had a high level of cultivation, he still seemed a little dull in front of Luo Hongchen.

Luo Hongchen didn't want to pay him any attention, but suddenly remembered his birthplace, the mountain he had visited several times. Most recently, he'd noticed the spirituality within the ravine had vanished, even the sharp, restrained sword energy was nowhere to be found. He'd originally planned to investigate again recently, but the invitation from the old Grand Tutor had forced him to the Imperial Garden, just in time for the Martial Saint Jiang He's discipleship ceremony.