Chapter 165: 碑雪

The hall wasn't very bright. The smooth floor tiles were like a dark water surface, shimmering with a faint silvery light. Bone-carved sword holders, lacquerware made of sandalwood and pear wood, hardwood grain resembling badger faces—everything in this scene seemed to take on a solemn air.

Lu Jiajia knelt prostrate on the ground, her sprawling snowy-white dress like lotus petals scattered on water, subtly embroidered, exuding a faint fragrance.

The young man in white robes turned to look at her, the light behind him glimmering faintly through the contours of his cheek.

"Jiajia," the young man called her name.

Lu Jiajia slowly raised her head, straightening her upper body little by little. Her white dress clung to her figure, which resembled a water lily bud closing at night.

She remained kneeling, a dark sash accentuating her slender waist, while the loose gown could no longer conceal her proud curves.

The sun sank into the valley.

The world's backdrop shifted from white to red, eventually giving way to darkness, as if all scenes had frozen at this moment.

"Master," Lu Jiajia closed her clear eyes. Her vermilion lips, sunset-crimson, gleamed, delicate enough to burst.

"Disciple! Do you have a place to stay?" Ning Changjiu, carrying a figure wrapped in a cocoon-like garment on his back, met a small boy at the foot of the mountain peak.

Ding Leshi stared blankly at the young man who seemed to have fallen from the sky, exclaiming in shock, "Mas... Master?"

Ning Changjiu hummed in affirmation.

Ding Leshi made a long face and said, "Master, it's been over two months, and you haven't come to see me. I thought you had forgotten about me."

"..." Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment. "Ah, disciple," he said, "your master wouldn't forget you. In ten months, you have a duel with... hmm, Zhao Xianger's disciple. Train well, and don't disgrace your master."

"Yan Shi," Ding Leshi whispered, reminding him.

Ning Changjiu nodded. "Right. Disciple, you absolutely mustn't lose."

Ding Leshi nodded vigorously. "I've been working very hard lately."

"Good, that's excellent." Ning Changjiu patted his head, thinking, *Indeed, proximity to ink makes one black*. He had only exchanged a few more words with Lu Yuanbai, yet his manner of speaking seemed to have been influenced for the worse.

The little boy glanced at the cocoon-like garment on Ning Changjiu's back and was astonished by the beauty of the "big sister" within it. He felt that the leading courtesans of Linhe City looked like country bumpkins in comparison to her.

Ding Leshi, greatly surprised, said, "Master, does... uh... Madam... no, Mistress know about this?"

"Where do you get so many questions?" Ning Changjiu paused, then felt a little annoyed, thinking that his judgment in taking disciples was indeed inferior to Lu Jiajia's. He sighed, "Where are you staying now? I need a place to hide."

Ding Leshi had heard the Sect Master's shouts earlier. He merely thought, *Master is truly Master, his ability to stir up trouble is indeed first-rate!*

"Master! I'll lead the way!" Ding Leshi patted his chest. "There are a lot of people where we are; I know a hidden spot!"

Ning Changjiu nodded in approval.

Leading the way, Ding Leshi explained, "Master, over here is the spirit fruit orchard. It's usually guarded, but the peak is a bit chaotic today, and everyone's afraid the mountain will collapse. So, the closer you get to the mountain, the fewer people there are. Inside the orchard, there's a row of stone houses, and no one is there right now."

Ning Changjiu nodded and walked towards that direction, carrying Lu Jiajia on his back.

At this moment, all four sides of the Peach Curtain were guarded, making it difficult for him to escape beyond the peak. Fortunately, the three peak masters were rather loyal; none of them pursued him. He believed that as long as no expert from the Purple Court realm appeared, stalling for another hour might not be difficult.

"Master," Ding Leshi suddenly called out to him.

"What is it, disciple?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Master, have you forgotten my name?" Ding Leshi suddenly asked.

"..." Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment.

Ding Leshi let out a childish sigh and said, "Master, my name is Ding Leshi. The 'Leshi' comes from 'the benevolent delight in mountains, and the wise delight in water.'"

Ning Changjiu nodded earnestly. "It's a bit hard to remember, but I've got it now."

Ding Leshi laughed happily; a child's joy is always simpler.

In the spirit fruit orchard, the fragrance was rich, but after a major battle, most of the previously laden branches were empty. Most of the pale-green spirit fruits had fallen to the ground, covered in dirt.

Behind the spirit fruit orchard was a row of stone houses, a resting place for the guards on duty.

Ning Changjiu, carrying Lu Jiajia on his back, arrived at the entrance of the cluster of stone houses.

A man in gray stood at the doorway.

The man in gray looked elderly, his back slightly hunched. His face, hidden beneath the hood of his gray robe, resembled a spirit fruit slowly rotting in the mud.

He raised his head, his gaze meeting Ning Changjiu's.

Ding Leshi was startled and immediately said, "Master! He... I don't know him."

Ning Changjiu nodded. "It's fine, it has nothing to do with you."

The man in gray said, "Are you Ning Changjiu?"

Ning Changjiu sighed, "Did I poke a hornet's nest of the older generation in the Oracle Sword Sect? Why are all you elders giving a hard time to a regular disciple like me?"

The man in gray said, "Hand over the Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture, and I can spare you."

Ning Changjiu said, "Senior's cultivation is unfathomably profound; I am no match."

Although the man in gray hadn't taken action for many years, his high cultivation meant that his mere subtle aura of power was extremely strong. Even a few simple movements from him could sweep away an opponent's killing intent and fighting spirit like the wind.

"So, are you willing to hand over the Sword Scripture? Or... are you just trying to stall for time?" The man in gray glanced behind Ning Changjiu. "I know this woman—the Peak Master of Sky Cavern Peak. I didn't expect her to break into the Purple Court realm at such a young age. She is indeed unprecedented, but ultimately, she is young. Even if she truly enters the Purple Court realm, it won't change anything."

Ning Changjiu asked, "What did True Man Hanchi promise you?"

The man in gray glanced at him and, without concealment, replied, "True Man Hanchi said that if I capture you, he would be willing to study the Sword Scripture with me."

Ning Changjiu said earnestly, "I can fulfill such a simple request for you. Why trust the words of that old geezer?"

The man in gray also smiled. "Young man, you truly understand how to assess the situation. Come, show me your sincerity, and let me see the legendary sole legacy of the Sect Master's lineage."

Ning Changjiu tightened the garment that was wrapped around Lu Jiajia.

The sky gradually darkened, as dark clouds rolled in from the distance. Electricity crackled within the clouds, hinting at the roar of surging thunder.

The man in gray agreed.

The lower scroll of the Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture contained only eighteen stances. These eighteen stances were not actual sword moves; rather, they pointed to a method of drawing and channeling spiritual energy. Once all the stances were mastered, even the most ordinary thrusting technique, when imbued with the core principles of the Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture, could achieve a fatal blow.

For cultivators to dodge a sword, the prerequisite is that their senses or divine consciousness can perceive danger and see the trajectory of the opponent's moves. However, this particular sword technique could conceal all killing intent, evading all perception.

It was like a transparent cloud drifting forward, which no one would perceive as dangerous.

When Ning Changjiu made his first move, the man in gray perceived it to be a genuine stance from the Sword Scripture.

Behind them, Ding Leshi was also stunned as he watched Ning Changjiu's movements. The moment his eyes fixed on the sword's edge, his gaze seemed glued, constantly shifting with Ning Changjiu's actions, lost in a trance.

Ten breaths passed quickly; Ning Changjiu had already demonstrated six stances of the Sword Scripture, though he had reversed the order.

The gray-robed man was equally immersed in this sword art, which was exquisitely deadly yet inscrutable.

In the cultivation world, sword techniques and forms are usually considered secondary, with true power lying solely in one's cultivation realm. Under realm suppression, sheer force could break through all forms of magic.

But today, Ning Changjiu's sword was gradually overturning his understanding.

Ning Changjiu stopped his movements.

The gray-robed man slightly regained his composure and said, "Continue."

Ning Changjiu said, "With Senior's cultivation, these few moves are enough for you to kill the Sect Master. After you kill him, I will then tell you the remaining sword moves and the method of channeling spiritual energy."

The gray-robed man looked at him deeply and said coldly, "Continue."

Ning Changjiu did not defy him and continued to perform the sword moves.

The Heavenly Oracle Sword Scripture reached its fourteenth stance.

The movement of this stance was like a person standing on horseback, holding a sword level, body leaning back, performing a comical show.

Ding Leshi wanted to laugh, but as his lips curled up, his smile froze on his face.

Ning Changjiu's sword floated forward, somehow instantly breaking through the spatial gap and appearing before the gray-robed man.

The old man's gray robe didn't tremble in the slightest, nor did any sword qi leak from the blade. The forward-cutting edge was so stable that it seemed everything swept by it would be sliced in half like tofu.

But their cultivation realms were too far apart.

After a brief moment of stunned silence, the old man withdrew his gaze from the sword's edge. He raised his sleeve, and two fingers extended from it, steadily reaching towards the incoming sword.

The surrounding wind stirred up withered, fragmented leaves.

The dark clouds pressed low, as if heavy rain was about to fall.

Ding Leshi didn't even understand what had happened; he only felt his vision blur, and then his master's figure floated towards him like a withered leaf.

Ning Changjiu's previous strike had stopped at the gray-robed old man's throat.

The old man's fingers were like stone, and the sword seemed to be embedded within them.

The moment the killing intent surged along the sword's edge, he immediately let go and retreated. After clamping and breaking the sword tip, the opponent's fingers, like a phoenix tree leaf, fluttered and landed on his chest.

Their relative stillness in the air lasted only for an instant.

That palm finally landed softly on Ning Changjiu's chest.

The moment the palm touched his chest, after an instant of calm, Ning Changjiu was sent flying like a sandbag. All the surrounding leaves simultaneously shattered, pulverized into dust-like powder.

Ning Changjiu's chest was caved in by the blow. A tremendous force surged into his internal organs, shattering the protective spiritual energy and causing his vital energy to surge uncontrollably. Unable to maintain a single breath of true qi, he was sent flying backward, slamming heavily onto the ground. A sweetness filled his throat, and blood gushed out, then froze in the air.

The air around them solidified like ice.

The gray-robed old man said, "Since you are insincere, don't blame me for being merciless."

He extended his hand and drew a circle in front of him.

Where the center of the circle passed, white flying swords materialized one after another. These swords rotated like a sundial, then streamed out in a file, aiming for Ning Changjiu.

Ning Changjiu's body trembled with pain. He laboriously moved his fingers, attempting to form a hand seal to cast the Mirror's Reflection on Water and Moon technique. But the moment his fingers twitched, the flying swords crashed towards him like a flock of white birds flocking to a phoenix.

"Master!" Ding Leshi cried out, trying to get closer, but the violent airflow pushed him back relentlessly.

The difference in their cultivation realms was too vast, and facing the enemy head-on, Ning Changjiu's only chance of victory was erased. The injuries he had accumulated within him burst forth completely the moment the flying swords struck his chest.

As the sword qi struck his chest, he felt as if his body was being torn apart. He was like a kite with a broken string, yanked away by a sudden gale. The broken sword in his hand was not only unable to unleash sword qi, but even swinging it became extremely difficult.

"So weak, yet you dare to steal the Sword Scripture?" The gray-robed old man flicked his sleeve, one hand behind his back, the other raised in front of him, like the hand seal of a Buddhist disciple reciting scriptures to ward off evil spirits.

The gray-robed old man had lived for many years, but he rarely left Ringing Waterfall Mountain, and few even knew of his existence.

In a sense, he was the foremost person beneath the Sect Master of the Heavenly Sect.

With just two moves, he had rendered Ning Changjiu utterly defenseless.

"You still have a chance; hand over the remaining sword moves," the gray-robed old man said. "The weak do not need, nor are they worthy of possessing treasures. You are a clever person, you should understand."

Ning Changjiu's upper garment was completely torn, and the clothes securing Lu Jiajia's cocoon-like garment also ripped, causing Lu Jiajia to fall to the ground. Her expression was serene, completely out of place with the surrounding chaotic environment.

The dark clouds gathering in the sky grew denser, like viscous gray pulp. Beneath this pulp, liquid-like lightning awaited, ready to surge forth like an army of thousands at the moment the clouds would burst.

Ning Changjiu knew that if he truly revealed all eighteen stances of the Sword Scripture, he would truly have no way out.

While possessing a treasure was dangerous, it at least made the opponent hesitate to act recklessly.

Ning Changjiu struggled to his feet, holding up the broken sword horizontally.

The gray-robed old man's gaze grew increasingly cold.

"Since you won't hand it over, I'll take it myself." The old man's five fingers splayed like eagle talons.

Ning Changjiu's sword stance offered almost no resistance. The old man's figure arrived instantly, aiming to strike his head.

Ning Changjiu tilted his head back, neither dodging nor evading.

His pupils turned golden.

That golden glow illuminated the old man's face beneath his hood.

He could clearly see that the young man's pupils were gone, and all the whites of his eyes were intricately woven from countless strands of golden threads. These golden threads resembled blood vessels, or perhaps land viewed from above. His eyes were so deep they seemed to contain a golden kingdom.

The gray-robed old man was momentarily dazed.

Ning Changjiu's broken sword thrust forward between their chests.

A piece of the gray robe's corner was torn off, and the garment was stained with blood. This minor injury didn't even elicit a grunt of pain from the gray-robed old man.

He merely frowned, then confirmed that these seemingly intimidating golden pupils were nothing but a bluff.

His fingers descended, reaching for Ning Changjiu's neck.

The next instant, the old man's vision went black, and blood streamed from his pupils.

The surrounding dim environment suddenly became much brighter.

The old man, just before going blind, vaguely saw a golden crow fly out from the eyes where he and Ning Changjiu had met gazes. It transformed into a golden arrow, piercing into his pupils. Then, a tearing pain shattered his pupils, turning his eye sockets instantly into two bloody holes. His hood was blown back as well, revealing his bald crown.

This was the gravest injury the old man had ever sustained in his life. He stretched out his hand, trying to grab the golden innate spirit, but his fingers passed through the golden light and found nothing.

The innate spirit could escape, but Ning Changjiu was unable to move.

He roared in pain, his divine consciousness spreading out. Even though he was blind, everything around him was still clearly reflected in his sea of consciousness.

Ning Changjiu's retreating figure was quickly approached.

Those withered hands gripped his neck.

Ning Changjiu's neck instantly tensed, every blood vessel as hard as steel.

Ning Changjiu's feet lifted from the ground as the gray-robed old man lifted him up.

His body was devoid of strength, unable to unleash any Daoist arts. Only his instinct for survival made him pour all his remaining power into his neck, struggling to resist.

The golden light in his pupils gradually extinguished. In his dark irises, the gray-robed old man's demonic face was reflected. He grabbed the old man's arm but couldn't break free. The hand holding the broken sword slowly and painfully lifted, aiming to stab the old man's neck, but the opponent's skin was like the tough scales of a python, impossible to pierce. The old man's lips curled into a sinister smile, and with a flick of his hand, he knocked the sword directly from Ning Changjiu's grasp.

Clang!

Thunder rumbled in the sky.

The thunder obscured the sound of the sword hitting the ground.

No! The sword hadn't hit the ground at all!

Then, a world-shattering alarm erupted within his divine consciousness!

Ning Changjiu felt this scene was familiar, but his consciousness was muddled, making it hard to recall.

The old man's hand loosened.

The hand that had gripped Ning Changjiu's neck was severed at the wrist.

A biting wind howled.

Lu Jiajia caught the broken sword just before it hit the ground.

Her white robe was somewhat thin, her expression rather desolate, and her wildly flowing dark hair was even more tumultuous than the thunderclouds in the sky!

At this moment, she was not an immortal banished from the nine heavens, but a cold, beautiful official walking forth from the underworld.

"Lu Jiajia?" The gray-robed old man's words were crushed by the thunder.

The moment Lu Jiajia emerged, having vanquished her inner demon tribulation, the thunder tribulation had arrived.

The dust and fallen leaves on the ground, the mist and electricity lingering in the air, the dark clouds and tribulation lightning in the sky—everything within sight, the moment Lu Jiajia broke free like a butterfly from its cocoon, was imbued with frost-like sword qi. It was as if the entire world was a sword domain effortlessly established by her, and every flow of life in heaven and earth was a sword move unleashed with her every gesture.

The gray-robed old man instantly felt as if the entire world had become his enemy.

Beside Lu Jiajia, slender sword qi swept in an arc, rustling and sending countless broken blades of grass and withered leaves flying. She, imbued with boundless sword qi, struck towards the gray-robed old man.

The gray-robed old man couldn't comprehend it. No matter how talented Lu Jiajia was, wasn't she just a cultivator who had just broken through the Longevity realm into the Purple Court realm? How could she possess such an overwhelming sword momentum that seemed to encompass heaven and earth?

The gray-robed old man's sea of qi churned.

Over the years, he had cultivated in seclusion at the Sect Master's Hall, accumulating countless spiritual energies. He had also read almost all the profound cultivation manuals and texts stored in the Sect Master's Hall, the most profound in Nanzhou. At this moment, his body was like a tumultuous sea, unleashing all the knowledge he had learned in his lifetime.

Among them were the sword arts of the Heavenly Sect, the formation techniques of the Daoist Gate, the astrological secrets of the Xuan Sect, and the indestructible Vajra body of the Barren Gate.

Thousands of Dharma manifestations appeared like hundreds of towering seats rising from the sea, making the gray-robed old man's figure appear incomparably majestic.

Given his cultivation realm, had he not intended to capture the young man alive, why would he have been caught off guard and blinded by the sneak attack?

Lu Jiajia's unstoppable sword momentum was also blocked by this vast sea of Daoist arts.

She glanced at Ning Changjiu, who lay fallen, then fixed her gaze on the gray-robed old man.

In her eyes, there were no countless Dharma manifestations, vast and towering like a mighty fortress.

She simply watched the old man calmly, seeing nothing else.

Holding the broken sword, she slowly pushed forward.

Then, everything swept over.

At this moment, her myriad strands of dark hair were illuminated by sword qi, becoming as bright as snow, as if a beauty's hair had turned white in an instant.

Between the great pillars that formed the majestic fortress — the Sword Sect, Daoist Gate, Xuan Sect, and Barren Gate — a stream of sword qi, like the flowing sand and water of Linhe City, whistled past. Then, the great river overflowed; each wisp of sword qi seemed to weigh tens of thousands of jin. In an extremely short time, the gray-robed old man's immense cultivation could not withstand the force and was largely evaporated.

Lu Jiajia's sword broke through all techniques, embedding the broken sword into the opponent's chest.

In the sky, the thunder tribulation had fully formed. The dark clouds transformed into plasma, coalescing into an insurmountable pool of lightning.

The power of this lightning pool was almost unheard of in the entire history of the Heavenly Sect. Even a single wisp of overflowing electric light carried an aura of destruction.

Lu Jiajia tilted her head back, her sword-like eyes opening wide, like an eternal sacred flame.

Holding the sword hilt in one hand and gripping the old man's shoulder with the other, Lu Jiajia's figure suddenly shot up from the ground the moment the heavenly lightning descended like a pillar, resembling a white rainbow piercing the sky.

The rainbow light clashed with the lightning.

Heaven and earth became as bright as day. All four peaks were submerged in endless lightning, and the shattered mountain-protecting formation was utterly destroyed.

Lu Jiajia, clutching the gray-robed old man's body, defied the tribulation lightning, ascending against it, and incredibly, little by little, pushed back the inconceivably powerful tribulation lightning.

A deafening roar sounded shortly after.

In the sky, countless snowy-white cracks appeared in the center of the lightning pool.

The white rainbow pierced through the lightning pool, shot skyward, then transformed into countless immortal swords, striking down once more.

Rumbling sounds echoed ceaselessly, as if the entire sky was about to collapse.

The lightning pool shattered, and countless spherical, bluish-purple tribulation lightning bolts flew out, attacking the transcender.

Lu Jiajia let out a clear cry, and astonishingly, transformed all these tribulation lightning bolts into fire for tempering her sword's edge.

On her sword's edge, the gray robe had long since been annihilated by the lightning fire, vanishing without a trace.

The thunder in the sky gradually faded.

Lu Jiajia flicked her wrist, shaking off the lightning from the sword's edge. The broken sword, originally an ordinary artifact, now gleamed with the brilliant luster typically seen only in immortal swords after being tempered by heavenly lightning.

A powerful thunder tribulation was thus forcefully vanquished by her.

Her spotless white robe remained poised in the air for a moment. Once she confirmed the thunder tribulation had passed, she immediately swooped down like a snow falcon, leaving a trail of lingering afterimages, and appeared before Ning Changjiu.

She helped the heavily injured Ning Changjiu to his feet, retracting all her sword intent, and immediately used her spiritual energy to protect his most vital acupoints.

Ning Changjiu clutched his throat, coughing incessantly. He seemed very cold, hugging his arms and trembling continuously.

Lu Jiajia wanted to drape her clothes over him but realized she only had one left. After a moment of hesitation, she directly embraced his body. Using her own body as a sword, she ignited a gentle sword-fire, dispelling the chill from Ning Changjiu.

Ning Changjiu quieted down. He leaned against her chest, as if buried in a field of cotton. "Thank you..." he murmured.

Lu Jiajia whispered, "I apologize, I was a little late."

Ning Changjiu steadied his breath and asked, "What did you see in the inner demon tribulation? Did it go smoothly?"

Lu Jiajia was silent for a moment, then released him. "Just an ordinary tribulation of self-inquiry," she said.

Ning Changjiu thought for a moment. "The battle with the old fox?" he asked.

Lu Jiajia nodded. "What else could it be?"

Ning Changjiu hummed. "Hanchi is acting against the natural order, trying to seize all the Heavenly Sect's fortune and then forcibly merge with the Nine-Headed Infant... Be careful."

Lu Jiajia said, "Don't think about that for now. I'll take you to heal."

Ning Changjiu pointed behind them. "That... my disciple..."

Lu Jiajia glanced over. The young man named Ding Leshi was merely a mortal and had long since fainted on the ground under such overwhelming celestial might. Lu Jiajia tossed out the broken sword, which then lifted him and carried him towards the Sword Hall.

Perhaps remembering something, Lu Jiajia suddenly said, just as her hands pressed onto his back, "Call me Master."

"What?" Ning Changjiu didn't react for a moment.

Lu Jiajia's voice was clear and cold. "I told you to call me Master."

Ning Changjiu frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"If you don't call me Master, I won't heal you."

"Didn't we agree to treat each other as equals...? Even if I don't call you that, you can't just watch me die, can you?"

"Why are you talking so much nonsense?"

"What exactly did you see in the inner demon tribulation?"

"Shut up! Call me what I told you to call me!"

"Mas... Master?"

Normally, he would say it quite naturally, but at this moment, Ning Changjiu felt as if a knife was held to his throat, making the word come out stiff and unnatural. However, Lu Jiajia's expression softened considerably. While healing Ning Changjiu, she said, "Say it a few more times."

"..." Ning Changjiu felt that Lu Jiajia was acting very strangely today, but compelled by her authority, he still said, "Master, Master... Master? Is that enough...?"

Lu Jiajia's elegant brows furrowed slightly, as if she found something unsatisfactory. She recalled the earlier scene and asked, "Are your legs alright? Are your knees or anything else injured?"

Ning Changjiu thought she was concerned about him, and his heart warmed. "I'm fine, thank you, Master, for your conc..."

"Good, then kneel." Lu Jiajia cut him off, issuing her command.

"???" Ning Changjiu was completely stunned, wondering if the girl's head had been struck silly by lightning.

He resisted, saying, "What exactly do you want to do?!"

Lu Jiajia, like a petulant little girl determined to get her candied hawthorn, said, "If you don't kneel, then you'll face the discipline ruler."

Ning Changjiu said, "Lu Jiajia! If you continue to act so contrary to reason, sooner or later I'll..."

His words were cut short.

Lu Jiajia and he simultaneously turned their heads, looking towards the Sect Master's Hall, remaining silent.

She could feel a surge of demonic god energy rising into the sky from that direction. Even with her current perfected sword body and having broken through to the Purple Court realm, she had no confidence whatsoever in completely overcoming that demonic god energy.

The mountains and rivers of the four peaks were severed, Ringing Waterfall Mountain emerged, and on its summit, the Nine-Headed Infant's nine heads writhed like raging thunder.

"Master..." Ning Changjiu murmured softly, wanting to say something.

Lu Jiajia had already stood up, shielding him. Her beautiful, clear silhouette was like a sword monument covered in white snow.