Chapter 370: The Beginning of the World's Sword Conflict

Ning Changjiu stared blankly ahead. Time seemed to slow down, and the scene before him, once it registered, exploded into a myriad of doubts in his mind.

Amidst the flowing veils, all the symbols on her seemed to vanish, leaving only tranquility.

She now appeared as a young girl.

The girl's soft, dark hair was unbound, a jade-inlaid lotus crown securing it. Her skirt, spread across the water, resembled a large lotus leaf, enveloping her petite body. Her voluminous sleeves concealed her delicate hands, and the wide hem of her skirt also hid her slender legs.

She sat elegantly, her expression serene, betraying neither joy, sorrow, nor anger.

Yet, on her noble, youthful face, the girl's eyes were profound, seeming to hold the faint purple dust of time's remnants.

Behind her Taoist robe, a slender, silver-thread-woven moon hung suspended.

She appeared as a girl, yet no one would mistake her for one. She seemed to be seated at a profound nexus where disparate temperaments converged, ultimately blending into a pure stillness, like a lotus in candlelight.

Ye Changong also looked at him.

Layers of white gauze cascaded down, enveloping her like heavy rain and concealing her within.

However, what floated on the white gauze was still the ethereal, dancing shadow of Ye Changong from a bygone era.

Ning Changjiu remained kneeling, lost in thought for a long time.

“Master?” Ning Changjiu called out, puzzled.

In his previous life, although he had only met his Master once—their very last encounter before his death.

Though he couldn't recall her exact face, he distinctly remembered that his Master was certainly not such a small, delicate girl.

Ye Changong's celestial voice drifted gently.

“The moon has its waxing and waning, its full and empty phases; such completeness has always been difficult to achieve.”

Her words, too, were devoid of sorrow or joy, even remarkably clear and pleasant to the ear. Ning Changjiu could only perceive their pleasantness.

Ning Changjiu asked, “Will Master recover?”

Ye Changong replied, “I do not know.”

Ning Changjiu clenched his hands and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you, Master?”

Ye Changong said, “Reach Duanjie City alive, and come to see me.”

Ning Changjiu nodded gravely. He suddenly pressed his fingers together as if forming a sword, intending to cut his palm and make a vow, but Ye Changong stopped him, saying, “Life and death are fated; there is no need to force it. Living is most important; coming to see me is secondary.”

Though Ye Changong’s voice was captivating, it remained indifferent. Without parting the veils, her voice and demeanor would only evoke the image of a tall, aloof goddess seated on a divine pedestal, overseeing the mortal world.

Ning Changjiu slowly withdrew his hand, resting it on his knees. He lowered his head and said, “Your disciple will obey your instructions.”

“Mm.” Ye Changong softly acknowledged. She uncharacteristically showed a hint of hesitation. After a moment, she spoke, “You must have already guessed my identity.”

After speaking, Ye Changong closed her eyes. On her youthful face, emotions were veiled as if by ice and snow. Only the lotus flowers circling gently in the pond seemed to mirror her inner thoughts.

Ning Changjiu nodded and said, “Your disciple has indeed made a guess…”

“Mm.” Ye Changong was about to say something.

Ning Changjiu, however, continued, “Master, you must be Goddess Nüwa, who molded humans from clay, refined stones to mend the sky, and severed the tortoise's legs to support the four cardinal points, correct?”

“…” Ye Changong swallowed the words she was about to say.

She neither admitted nor denied it.

Ning Changjiu pondered the contents of the book his senior sister had given him, carefully choosing his words. He wanted to praise his Master; however, Ye Changong had already issued her dismissal.

“Enough, you may leave. Your senior sister and brother will arrange your journey. I will not see you off.”

Ye Changong said.

The hall doors slowly opened.

Siming stood outside the hall, waiting quietly. A hint of anxiety subtly showed in her eyes and brows.

As Ning Changjiu walked out, Siming's hands, which had been clenched in her sleeves, imperceptibly relaxed.

“What did Master say?” Siming asked.

Ning Changjiu replied, “Master didn’t say much, only to take care on our journey.”

Siming did not press further. She knew Ning Changjiu would not easily deceive her, unless it involved profound secrets of the Heavenly Dao.

Ning Changjiu took her hand and said, “Let’s go. It’s time to descend the mountain. Don’t keep Jiajia and Xiaoling waiting.”

“Mm.”

Although Siming nodded, she gently pulled her hand free. She looked at the shrine, bowed slightly, and saluted the Taoist temple.

Only then did they walk hand in hand out of the main hall's front courtyard.

Ning Changjiu and Siming cast a final glance at the lotus pond, flowering trees, and the stone table and pavilion that held countless memories in the courtyard. They exchanged a look, and then one pushed the left door while the other pushed the right.

The main doors slowly closed, and the memories of their dream-like summer were forever sealed within.

Turning around, they faced the blazing sun.

Ning Changjiu looked at the sun in the sky, unable to feel a sense of reality.

Outside the Taoist temple, their Fifth Senior Brother was the first to await them.

“Greetings, Senior Brother.” Ning Changjiu and Siming saluted together.

Fifth Senior Brother smiled gently. He took out two books, handed them to Ning Changjiu, and said, “There is not much in the monastery, so I offer these two scrolls as a small token of my regard.”

Ning Changjiu carefully accepted the books.

Both books were bound in green covers. One was titled *Manual of Weapons*, and the other *Records of Mountains and Seas*.

As their titles suggested, one was an illustrated guide to all weapons in the world, and the other an ancient scroll detailing exotic beasts of the mountains and seas.

“These scrolls are not particularly precious,” Fifth Senior Brother said with a smile. “If you find yourselves in a dire situation, the weapons and exotic beasts described within can be used. Just don’t expect too much power from them.”

Ning Changjiu handed the scrolls to Siming and bowed again to thank his senior brother.

The two bid farewell to Fifth Senior Brother.

Ning Changjiu flipped through the *Manual of Weapons*, joking, “There are hundreds of weapons in the world, so varied and complex. If I ever get tired of using a sword, and have leisure, I could try a different weapon each day.”

Siming leaned over to look, scoffing, “Throughout history, divine weapons and sharp tools have mostly been named after their wielders. Unless it's a divine weapon forged by special laws in the Divine Kingdom, like my black sword. Other famous mortal artifacts are largely similar in form and material. Many of those you see are deliberately ornate and showy, but their essence is no different.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Why would the artisans do that?”

Siming chuckled, “They can be elaborately carved, but isn't that just to differentiate them from other divine weapons? It’s like writing: why are so many characters complex? Isn't it to distinguish their meanings?”

Ning Changjiu nodded thoughtfully and asked, “What are the characters like in your Divine Kingdom?”

Siming said indifferently, “The Divine Kingdom has no written characters, only thoughts. The only similar inscriptions are talismans, a means to exert power. Those who created characters were revered as sages in your mortal world, but they didn't realize that written characters are also shackles for cultivators, and utterly meaningless to the Divine Kingdom.”

Ning Changjiu didn't know how to respond to her indirect pride.

However, Fifth Senior Brother, who watched their retreating figures, found the gentle smile on his face gradually hardening.

Next was Second Senior Brother.

Second Senior Brother had also prepared a farewell gift.

“Alas, it's been more than ten days now. While Wan Yao City won't trouble you, the Sword Pavilion is still in the mortal realm,” Second Senior Brother sighed. “If it were just the Sword Pavilion’s first or second disciples giving you trouble, it would be manageable. Now that you two are in perfect harmony, fighting your way back to Gulong Sect shouldn't be an issue. My concern is that the shameless old Sword Saint might personally draw his sword to block your path. Though not absolutely necessary, the Sword Saint wouldn't truly display his legendary third-realm power, but even if he merely uses his sword to obstruct your way, it would be quite difficult…”

Ning Changjiu asked skeptically, “Although the Sword Saint is our enemy, he is still the Master of the Sword Pavilion and respects his status. Would he really attack a junior like me?”

Second Senior Brother gave a wry smile, “The Sage treated him well back then, yet he still rebelled, didn't he? Those who have long discarded morality from their sword heart, yet still achieve mastery, are the most difficult to guard against.”

Ning Changjiu asked, puzzled, “What exactly does the Sword Saint want to do? What is his objective?”

“He has no objective,” Second Senior Brother said, patting his scabbard and sighing skyward. “He is merely a sword of the heavens. When the heavens' thunder and lightning cannot kill, they can only rely on a true sword to eliminate threats. As a disciple of the Unobservable Temple, you are on his must-kill list. Now, we are outnumbered by enemies, and Master cannot split herself. Junior brother, you must be careful.”

Ning Changjiu nodded and said, “I understand, Senior Brother. I have now entered the Five Paths, and with Xueci by my side, I should be able to overcome any dangers.”

Siming also slightly nodded her head in agreement.

Second Senior Brother smiled with satisfaction. He took a small, rouge-box-sized disc from his sleeve and handed it to Ning Changjiu, saying, “This is the Divine Soil of the Five Capitals. Back when the White, Green, Red, Black, and Yellow Emperors were still alive, I took a shovel and dug a scoop from each of their capital’s divine lands. I incurred great wrath back then, but now that the gods have passed and their cities changed hands, this is all that remains.”

As Second Senior Brother spoke, his words carried a deep sense of remembrance.

He placed the item in Ning Changjiu’s palm and said, “Keep it safe. Don’t be too frugal with it; if you’re fighting for your life, just throw it out. It can save your life.”

“Thank you for this generous gift, Second Senior Brother.” Ning Changjiu solemnly accepted the Divine Soil of the Five Capitals, clenching it tightly in both hands.

The two bid farewell to Second Senior Brother.

Outside the Hall of Regulations, the Eldest Senior Sister stood silently and gracefully, adorned in a lotus crown and a green skirt, embodying a divine elegance.

She had also been waiting for a long time, watching the clouds unfurl and disperse in the sky.

Ning Changjiu and Siming bowed together to the Eldest Senior Sister.

The Eldest Senior Sister smiled slightly and took out a bow.

It was a stringless great bow, about half a human's height.

The great bow seemed to be crafted from ironwood. Its surface, like black iron, had a fine texture. The curves of its limbs were powerful, and the belly of the bow was adorned with dark green mystic horn. Fine golden gleams traced the entire length of the bow, like molten lava flowing through a valley. At the center of the bow, a tiny red dot hung suspended.

Ning Changjiu looked at the bow, feeling a strong sense of familiarity. He felt that by simply hooking his finger onto this red dot, he could invisibly draw out a tangible string and arrow.

“Don’t you recognize it?” the Eldest Senior Sister asked with a slight smile. “This is the very bow you used when you shot down the Golden-Winged Great Peng. As expected of our junior brother… The Golden-Winged Great Peng couldn't pull this out for five hundred years. I wonder if it died with regrets when its body was destroyed.”

Only then did Ning Changjiu recall the scene on Tianzhu Peak.

Amidst the torrential rain, he hadn't considered much. He had simply grabbed the bow he saw and pulled the string he found. After shooting down the Golden-Winged Great Peng, he had no time to think, abandoning the bow to rush towards Siming.

It was only now that he realized this bow was one of the Four Sacred Artifacts sealed on Tianzhu Peak!

The Eldest Senior Sister continued, “This bow is named the Sun Phoenix Azure Feather Bow; it can fire up to nine arrows at once. The Golden-Winged Great Peng’s Sun Phoenix Azure Feather Sword was derived from it.”

“What a mighty name for a bow,” Ning Changjiu said. He instinctively sensed a connection between the bow and himself and reached out, ready to take it.

But the Eldest Senior Sister held the bow firmly and clasped her hands behind her back.

Ning Changjiu’s hand met air, and he paused, slightly bewildered. He asked, “Are you not planning to give me this bow, Senior Sister? Or am I not yet qualified to use it?”

“Not exactly,” the Eldest Senior Sister replied, holding the bow and pacing gently, her green skirt swaying.

She looked at Ning Changjiu, a gentle smile on her face, and said, “I’ll give you two choices.”

Ning Changjiu, not understanding, said, “Please tell me, Senior Sister.”

The Eldest Senior Sister smiled and said, “Right now, I have this Sun Phoenix Azure Feather Bow, and also three pieces of golden advice accumulated over a millennium. Do you want this divine bow, or your Senior Sister’s three words of wisdom?”

Without a moment’s thought, Ning Changjiu blurted out, “I want this bow!”

Siming also nodded in agreement.

“…” The Eldest Senior Sister took a deep breath, and silence instantly fell around them. She stood rigid for a moment, her chest rising and falling. She gave Ning Changjiu a cold look, snatched the bow, swung it carelessly, and tossed it at him, saying, “Hmph, so shallow. How will you ever achieve great things in the future? Now, descend the mountain.”

Ning Changjiu caught the great bow. Its seemingly smooth body felt slightly rough to his fingertips.

With the great bow in his embrace, he felt a profound sense of security.

Within his Sea of Qi, a radiant authority, shining like the sun, seemed to respond, unleashing a dazzling brilliance.

His blood surged and roared within him, and he suddenly felt an urge to draw the bow and nock an arrow.

Ning Changjiu suppressed the surge of blood.

He slung the bow over his back and bowed, saying:

“Thank you, Senior Sister.”

The Eldest Senior Sister was still annoyed and did not give Ning Changjiu a pleasant look. She only sighed faintly, “The journey to Gulong Sect is thousands of miles, fraught with obstacles, and achieving true enlightenment is not easy. Take good care of yourselves.”

Ning Changjiu and Siming exchanged glances, and both thanked their Senior Sister one last time.

The monastery gates were open.

They descended the steps.

In the blink of an eye, the Eldest Senior Sister had become a dark green silhouette on the high platform.

In another blink, she had vanished without a trace.

“It’s time to descend the mountain,” Ning Changjiu said wistfully.

“Wait,” Siming said. She suddenly walked into the fields, to the place where they had planted trees.

Siming drew water and watered the trees. She watered four of the trees, intentionally omitting her own.

Ning Changjiu understood. He smiled and rolled up his sleeves, personally bending down by the stream to cup clear water. Under Siming's half-smiling gaze, he watered her small sapling. Seeing that this little tree wasn't thriving, he gently transferred some spiritual energy into it.

Siming crossed her arms, nodding slightly, quite satisfied with his performance.

The five saplings, like outstretched hands, seemed to wave goodbye to them.

The two walked through Dahe Town.

The artisans in Dahe Town were each busy with their own tasks and paid him no heed.

Ning Changjiu did have a brief encounter with Zhang Qiyu.

Zhang Qiyu was diligently painting a long scroll depicting ten thousand ghosts. When he saw Ning Changjiu, he put down his brush, a complex expression on his stern face.

“It seems I am destined to grow old alone here,” Zhang Qiyu said slowly. “But I have no complaints, only a few regrets.”

Ning Changjiu said, “The Imperial Sword Heavenly Sect has specially sent people to look after Qiusheng and Xiaolian, so you don't need to worry about them.”

Zhang Qiyu said, “If that beast still has a shred of life, I implore you, sir, spare its life.”

Ning Changjiu knew he was referring to the Xiunian serpent.

“Hmm, if there’s a chance, I will completely purge the malevolence from its divine bone and release it back to Liantian Town. I was quite fond of that large black serpent when it was still innocent,” Ning Changjiu said.

Zhang Qiyu put down his brush, bowed in thanks, and said, “Then I have no other regrets.”

Ning Changjiu accepted the bow.

Those who had once been mortal enemies now, inexplicably, stood on the same side.

They walked past Dahe Town.

Siming couldn’t help but exclaim, “I didn’t expect them all to still be alive.”

Ning Changjiu asked, “Who are they?”

Siming glanced back and said faintly, “They are those ancient gods and immortals from long ago, who have lived longer than I. Most have gone through several reincarnations, changing their forms entirely. I cannot clearly discern them, only sense their auras.”

Ning Changjiu recalled the many elders in Dahe Town.

Among them, many were still convicts.

But if the black sun were truly to descend, all—old or young, good or evil—would face a death sentence. Therefore, on the grand scale of heaven and earth, they were still considered fellow practitioners.

The moment of departure finally arrived.

The Stele Pavilion of Zuo-Wang Meditation was now behind them, and they descended the mountain.

Returning to the mortal realm no longer required passing through Kunlun.

The sea of clouds had its own ferry boat.

The rower on the boat was a headless skeleton.

Ning Changjiu and Siming boarded the bone boat.

Amidst the sea of clouds, the small bone boat drifted slowly into the distance.

The headless skeletal fisherman sang, his song emanating from his very bones.

“Immortals severed my head; cloud-riding, I lost my way. My arms cut, my feet pared, my bones and blood brewed into potent wine. First poured for the heavens, then for the underworld, all under heaven drink the bitterness of immortality…”

The song was distant, yet strangely familiar.

In the blink of an eye, the moonlit sea had transformed into the human realm.

The bone boat had vanished without a trace at some point. They circulated their spiritual power and descended from the sky, instantly touching the ground. When they looked back, they saw only a vast sea of clouds and the moon at midnight.

They were not the only pair in the mortal world gazing at the moon together.

Three days prior, at the Sword Pavilion.

Ke Wenzhou rested his sword across his lap.

The sword had traveled thousands of miles to return. It had many more nicks than when he had emerged from seclusion.

Ke Wenzhou’s gaunt and aged hand slowly stroked the sword.

He looked up at the moon. His heart, originally as firm as a rock, wavered slightly before growing even more resolute.

His withered long hair hung loose, and he carried a tattered ancient sword on his back. A new long robe draped over him looked like a poor family's worn-out winter quilt. He exuded an indescribable sense of decay.

The gates of the Sword Pavilion, paramount among the Seventy-Two Blessed Lands, swung open, and the Sword Saint walked into the moonlight.

His body was as unyielding as a sword.

The Sword Pavilion's Eldest Senior Sister was kneeling outside the blessed land. Though her injuries had healed, her complexion remained pale, and the iron swords around her all hung downwards.

“Zhenyue, you have done very well. There is no need to blame yourself,” Ke Wenzhou said calmly.

The Sword Pavilion's Eldest Senior Sister was named Zhou Zhenyue.

She remained kneeling on the ground, her expression solemn and meticulous.

“I failed to withstand a single sword strike from Nüwa, and I could not defeat that girl named Si. It was truly a loss of dignity for an Eldest Senior Sister. Afterward, my Dao heart wavered, causing unbearable distress. Only now do I realize how weak my spiritual cultivation has been,” Zhou Zhenyue said, dressed in white, her expression forlorn.

“One sword…” Ke Wenzhou was also somewhat surprised to hear this. That Goddess Nüwa’s power had exceeded his estimation.

“You may rise,” Ke Wenzhou said, his voice aged. “The battle at Wan Yao City earlier was merely a small test. The true war has yet to begin. When Central Land becomes the battlefield, you will have plenty of opportunities to hone your sword intent. There is no need to exhaust your sword heart over such minor matters.”

Zhou Zhenyue was silent for a moment, then slowly rose and bowed to the Sword Saint.

Ke Wenzhou said, “The junior disciples have all recently joined. Do not neglect their sword cultivation. Although the Heavenly Mandate will descend like a vast river, if one is not capable, they may not be able to seize this great opportunity.”

Zhou Zhenyue replied, “Your disciple understands. Once Junior Sister Junzhuo returns, I will discuss with her how to proceed with the teaching.”

“Mm.” Ke Wenzhou nodded slowly and said, “Before that, there is one more matter to attend to.”

“What is it?” Zhou Zhenyue asked.

Ke Wenzhou said, “The boy and the girl are about to begin their return journey from Wan Yao City to Gulong Sect. You, along with three junior sisters and brothers, are to intercept and kill them. The interception points are marked on the geomancy map; you may proceed.”

Zhou Zhenyue’s slightly pale lips pressed together.

“Why must they be killed? What grievance does the Sword Pavilion have with them? Is it merely because they violated heavenly rules?” Zhou Zhenyue voiced the doubts in her heart.

Ke Wenzhou said, “What we uphold is not just the sword, but the Heavenly Dao and order of this realm. If we wish to prevent another catastrophe and suffering for the common people, then we must kill those fated to bring about such calamity.”

Zhou Zhenyue remained bewildered. She asked, “Are we truly doing the right thing?”

Ke Wenzhou asked, “What did Nüwa tell you?”

Zhou Zhenyue sealed her lips and said nothing.

Ke Wenzhou said, “If you cannot judge, the sword in your hand can. The swords of the Sword Pavilion, whose intent originates from the heart, are as strict as established rules, as vast and swift as a long wind. If your cultivation is upright and your conduct is righteous, then your sword will also be righteous. It will not deceive you, so why do you doubt?”

Upon hearing this, Zhou Zhenyue looked at the sword in her hand. She couldn't help but recall her Junior Sister Liu Junzhuo’s description of that young man—that young man, named Zhang Jiu, had a diverse range of sword skills, was adept at schemes and tricks, and had questionable conduct. His swordplay even incorporated obscure techniques from the Huanxi Sect… Well, as the saying goes, ‘If the lower beam is not straight, the upper beam will lean.’ What kind of reputable sect could produce such a disciple?

They were just a bunch of remnants from a bygone era.

Her wavering thoughts immediately became firm.

“Your disciple will bear your instructions in mind,” she said.

Ke Wenzhou, with the sword on his back, slowly walked out of the blessed land. His final words continued to echo in Zhou Zhenyue's heart:

“A sage appears in the world every five hundred years. Now, that sage is me. When all the remnants are eradicated, the Sword Pavilion will be renamed the Sage Pavilion, on par with the heavens.”

Early in the morning, Liu Junzhuo returned to the Sword Pavilion.

Her departure had taken a full month, but her return only about twenty days. Her cultivation realm, stagnant for a long time, had miraculously improved significantly.

Greeting her was Liu Xihuan.

Liu Xihuan, wrapped in a cloak with short hair, waved to her from a distance.

Seeing her, Liu Junzhuo felt a little better.

“Senior Sister, did you see Zhang Jiu? What is his cultivation realm now?” Liu Xihuan eagerly asked.

“…” Liu Junzhuo’s smiling face instantly darkened.

Liu Junzhuo said coldly, “You haven’t seen your Senior Sister in two months, and you don’t ask about her well-being? Instead, you only care about some wild man from another sect? Besides, I know now that the boy isn't called Zhang Jiu at all; he's called Ning Changjiu. If you dare to collude with outsiders and deceive your Senior Sister again, don’t blame me for hitting you!”

Liu Xihuan knew she had misspoken. She covered her mouth with both hands, quickly apologized, and went to massage her senior sister’s shoulders and back, asking with concern:

“How is your health, Senior Sister? The Gulong Sect Master must be merely a figurehead…”

“Siming was not in the sect,” Liu Junzhuo replied coldly.

“Oh… isn’t that even better? With the Sect Master absent, who in the world could obstruct Second Senior Sister's path? A mere Gulong Sect, I’m sure it would be no problem to sweep it flat with a single sword strike… Oh, right, Senior Sister, where are your crown and sword? Have you hidden them?” Liu Xihuan circled her senior sister, looking left and right.

“…” Liu Junzhuo’s steps faltered slightly, and she closed her eyes.

Liu Xihuan felt a surging killing intent, which scared her into instantly retracting her hands and stepping back two paces. She looked at her senior sister in surprise and said, “Senior Sister, you didn’t… again…”

Under the intimidation, Liu Xihuan couldn't utter the rest of her sentence.

Liu Junzhuo was about to erupt in anger when she saw sword shadows spreading across the air like water.

“Lost again?”

The question was delivered coldly.

It was the Eldest Senior Sister, Zhou Zhenyue.

Liu Junzhuo immediately suppressed her anger.

Zhou Zhenyue looked at her shoulders and asked, “How did you lose?”

Liu Junzhuo was ashamed to speak, her voice very quiet: “Lu Jiajia… the woman who defeated Junior Brother Seven, and I, wagered three sword strikes within the same realm. If I couldn’t win within three strikes, I would abandon my crown and sword and leave.”

Liu Xihuan was greatly surprised. She covered her small face, trying to conceal her look of delighted schadenfreude.

Zhou Zhenyue's expression shifted slightly as she coldly asked, “You couldn’t achieve a complete victory with your third strike?”

Liu Junzhuo closed her eyes, feeling utterly humiliated: “Junzhuo’s third sword strike… failed.”