Chapter 1540: Life's Sword Follows Death to the Grave, The Impermanent Play of the Dao in Wen Court

The wind ceased, and the snow stopped.

The masterless Mei Ziyu ended its heavenly tribulation, spiraling down from mid-air and embedding itself into the distant ground.

“Woo…”

The sword trembled, emitting a low whimper, as if weeping.

In the wind, Feng Zhongzui watched Gu Lao's body age at an visibly exaggerated speed, silently moving the Chuandao Mirror aside.

Mei Siyi still held Gu Yu in his arms, feeling the weight gradually lighten.

Soon, even his chin began to tremble slightly. After hesitating and struggling for a long time, he looked up at Xu Xiaoshou on one side and said:

“Shengming Ouyi, can it save him?”

In Xu Xiaoshou's view, Gu Lao's life patterns were withering and dissolving, fading away with his soul's breath bit by bit.

This was an irreversible process.

Shengming Ouyi could allow one to comprehend life, but it wasn't about forcibly altering it.

If life was finite, then death was its inevitable outcome—on this one-way path, there was no turning back.

If life was infinite, then death was a process of transformation—Gu Lao's life patterns weren't absolutely disappearing; relatively, they had become part of the world's energy, entering a natural cycle.

The world was heartless.

Life was the same.

Xu Xiaoshou shook his head silently. Seeing Mei Siyi lower his head calmly, he wanted to speak but held back.

If he wanted to, he could actually force a change in life.

But it wouldn't change the outcome; it would only temporarily halt the process.

Xu Xiaoshou couldn't make Gu Lao wake up or recover—he didn't have such vast abilities yet.

He could only use his abundant passive skills to channel surging vitality to Gu Lao, allowing him to “gain” while “losing,” maintaining a balance.

But it would only sustain the balance of a living dead.

Gu Lao wouldn't be able to speak, move, or think; he would be forever frozen in this moment.

Someone would need to keep channeling life force with a second true body; if it stopped, Gu Lao would continue toward that end.

This wasn't life!

It was punishment for two people, worse than death!

So, in the end, Xu Xiaoshou said nothing, because it wasn't even a real “choice.”

Everyone around quietly watched this scene; even the Bansheng from Shengshen Hall remained silent.

Gu Yu was gone.

He left without a sound.

If a Bansheng fell, heaven and earth would mourn together.

But alas, even as a mortal nearing sainthood, he still fell short by half a step.

At Xuanmiao Gate, whether Gu Yu had achieved the Dao was unknown.

What the world knew was that after the initial ranking of the Seven Sword Immortals had been set for nearly half a month, the “First Sword Immortal” had fallen!

This wasn't the end.

It was a turning point in the shifting winds.

The legend of “One sword once opened Xuanmiao Gate” was bound to stir massive waves in the circles of ancient sword cultivators, drawing countless pursuers.

But that was a story for later…

“I'll step away for a bit.”

Mei Siyi stood up with Gu Yu in his arms, whispering to Xu Xiaoshou before walking toward the edge of the crowd.

“Mm.”

Xu Xiaoshou watched Mei Siyi leave, unable to truly empathize with that sorrow.

He had only met Gu Lao half a day ago.

He had indeed gained something from Gu Lao; thinking back, what exactly Xuanmiao Gate was seemed to fade into nothingness.

Beyond what he gained, as for the lesson, the only thing Xu Xiaoshou remembered—and he believed Liu Fuyu and all ancient sword cultivators would remember—was what Gu Lao wanted to tell the world:

To walk the path of the Sword God, the Nine Great Sword Techniques must all be mastered!

This was the threshold.

The starting point for achieving the Dao and ascending.

So…

“What is the Dao, then?”

Xu Xiaoshou gazed blankly at the sky.

Despite mastering three great Dao diagrams, he still fell into confusion.

The sky after the rain was clear and mirror-like, but now the wind and snow returned, falling gently as usual.

“Buzz!”

Mei Ziyu trembled.

Mei Siyi's steps halted as he held Gu Yu, looking toward the sword he had personally named years ago.

He had actually forgotten to take it with Gu Yu.

“Apologies…”

Mei Siyi changed direction and went to pick up Mei Ziyu.

“Who?!”

Xu Xiaoshou suddenly turned his head, his scalp tingling.

Because at that moment, in his “perception,” a person had suddenly appeared next to Mei Ziyu.

It was as if he had been standing there for a long time…

But before Mei Siyi turned, Xu Xiaoshou hadn't noticed him at all—he seemed nonexistent!

In the air above, Fang Wenxin, Zhong Yuanzi, and others looked down with surprised expressions.

The group of ancient sword cultivators who had landed early and were silently paying their respects were also startled.

Everyone's gaze fell on the extra figure beside Mei Ziyu—a white-robed form.

He was extremely tall.

Xu Xiaoshou was already tall, standing half a head or a full head above others, and this white-clad figure was about the same.

His white robe was very casual and home-like, embroidered with simple white crane patterns, worn loosely.

His black hair fell along his temples, swaying slightly in the wind and snow, framing a fair, warm-jade-like face.

Notably…

Around his left eye, he had theatrical makeup, even his eyelid was powdered, but only that eye was made up.

The rest, even his feet, were bare, as if he had rushed here in a hurry.

“Long time no see, Mei Siyi.”

The middle-aged man smiled charmingly at the corner of his lips, elegant and affable.

In his left hand, he held a partially read copy of the “Jingjing,” with the first line: “Wu yi ke you, you yi ke wu, Dao is wu you, great dream of a thousand autumns.”

With his right hand, he reached the hilt of Mei Ziyu, embedded in the ground, before Mei Siyi could.

Surprisingly…

Mei Ziyu, which had been weeping, quieted down the moment this white-clad swordsman's hand touched it.

“Mei Ziyu cannot be buried with Gu Lao,” he said astonishingly, looking straight at Mei Siyi. “The sword of the First Sword Immortal, which opened Xuanmiao Gate, is called ‘first under heaven.’ One day, it will become a famous sword.”

“The merits and sins balance out; the sword itself is blameless. But in this situation, if it's buried with Gu Lao, neither will find peace after death.”

After saying this, he nodded slightly:

“My condolences.”

Mei Siyi stood frozen before the sword, his thoughts grinding to a halt.

Xu Xiaoshou's mind flashed to Su Qianqian…

Back at Tian Sang Ling Gong, the first famous sword he encountered was Su Qianqian's Mu Ming Cheng Xue.

Later, he learned that to protect that sword, the entire Su family lived in constant unrest.

In the end, Mu Ming Cheng Xue was taken by Su Qianqian to Tian Sang Ling Gong, but it still attracted countless thieves.

Fortunately, the Ling Gong was strong and repelled wave after wave.

But in the very end…

It drew something even greater…

“One lives with the sword, one dies with it returned to the tomb.”

The man closed the Jingjing, clasped his hands behind his back, and continued: “Gu Lao and Mei Ziyu's fate ends here. I'll find the next wielder for it.”

Mei Siyi hadn't fully processed it yet, but hearing this, he said in a daze:

“You've grown so much…”

The middle-aged man smiled without speaking.

A flash of insight struck Xu Xiaoshou, and his eyes widened as he finally remembered who this person was.

Yes!

That one!

What was his name again?

That… from the previous generation of the Seven Sword Immortals!

The expressions around him mirrored his—everyone seemed to recall something, their brows furrowing.

Feng Zhongzui clutched the Chuandao Mirror, desperately patting the man, excited but mute.

“Mm! Uh! Mm…”

After struggling for a long time, he finally blurted out, screaming:

“Wen Ting!!!”

Clang—

Wen Ting drew Mei Ziyu, chuckling as he glanced at the Chuandao Mirror, completely charming Feng Zhongzui.

“Damn! So that's what he looks like…”

“Damn! I never saw his portrait before—wait, no, I should have… Did you all see that?!”

He grabbed the Chuangdao Mirror, swinging it wildly in excitement, then freed a hand to greet:

“Wen Jianxian! I'm Feng Tingzui's descendant, Feng Zhongzui!”

Wen Ting had already turned back to Mei Siyi, saying warmly: “If you have no objections, I'll take Mei Ziyu back to Zangjian Tomb.”

Mei Siyi thought it over; Wen Ting's reasoning was sound.

Moreover, after the owner of a famous sword died, regardless of theft or plunder, as long as it couldn't be guarded, it usually ended up back at Zangjian Tomb.

Water flows east; swords return to the tomb.

For Mei Ziyu to be personally retrieved by this generation's tomb keeper was also a stroke of fate.

“Alright.”

Mei Siyi nodded heavily, still holding Gu Yu.

“And you have no objections either?”

Wen Ting smiled and patted the sword in his hand.

Mei Ziyu was sentient and knew it was fate's trick; it trembled silently in acquiescence.

“Then it's settled.”

Wen Ting sheathed the sword, opened his mouth, and swallowed the entire Mei Ziyu into his abdomen.

Xu Xiaoshou's eyes bulged wide.

Wen Ting let out a long breath after swallowing the sword, then smiled at the many ancient sword cultivators present, nodding to each one regardless of whether he knew them.

Finally, his gaze settled on Xu Xiaoshou.

“Under observation, passive value +1.”

He's looking at me?

Xu Xiaoshou didn't understand, so he looked back.

They stared at each other for a full three breaths before Xu Xiaoshou suddenly realized—Wen Ting was too illusory; perhaps he wasn't even real?

And his face…

Xu Xiaoshou could clearly see that Wen Ting's face was quite distinctive, handsome even, but when he tried to describe it, he couldn't remember.

Like a famous sword hiding its edge, or a Bansheng concealing himself.

Whether Wen Ting was deliberately hiding his true appearance or it was just naturally so, Xu Xiaoshou couldn't tell.

“The young are formidable.”

In the end, Wen Ting's lips curved in a smile, as if greeting him.

He turned, flicked the water sleeves around his wrist into two azure-white dragons, and stepped into the air, vanishing into the distance.

Beneath the wind and snow, only his echoing operatic voice lingered, gradually fading:

“Let the pear blossoms fall with rain, grant him three parts emotion, awaken from the great dream! And teach people to sigh! Hiss! Endlessly—”

Xu Xiaoshou was stunned again.

He had appeared so abruptly, swallowed a sword, sung an opera line, and left just as abruptly?

Nothing else happened?

In the distance, Feng Zhongzui clutched the Chuandao Mirror until the white figure completely disappeared into the horizon, then reluctantly lowered it.

He couldn't understand what Wen Ting was singing, not even the words, but he was immersed in that realm, lost in it.

“I think he's become a Sword Saint,” Feng Zhongzui muttered, smacking his lips as he spoke into the Chuandao Mirror. “But calling him an ‘immortal’ fits better… What do you all think?”

From the other side of the Chuandao Mirror, curses flooded in:

“You son of a bitch, Feng Zhongzui, are you crazy? Why are you shaking me around for no reason!”

“I'm freaking cursed! I finally get to see Wen Jianxian once… I know nothing about him except that he's a Sword Immortal, and I'm curious as hell! Damn it, I didn't even see his real face! F***!”

“Wah, Feng Zhongzui, I'll kill you…”

At the old site of Yujing City, Xu Xiaoshou watched Wen Ting leave and fell into thought.

A Bansheng incarnation?

Doesn't seem like it.

A semi-intent incarnation?

Not that either.

It looked more like he was never there at all… Wujian Technique?

“Wait!”

His thoughts paused, and Xu Xiaoshou realized what was odd.

This vague, bewildering feeling—could it be… Shengdi?

Xu Xiaoshou startled himself with his own bold idea.

But he quickly dismissed it. If Wen Ting were a Shengdi, how could the Five Great Shengdi Families ignore it?

Besides, how could he possibly be? He wasn't one of the Ten Zun Seats, and he had no major background.

Even some of the powerful ones among the Ten Zun Seats hadn't become saints yet, so how could he?

“Background…”

Xu Xiaoshou touched his nose. How did Zangjian Tomb compare to the Five Great Shengdi Families?

He glanced around; Mei Siyi had already left.

His questions seemed answerable only by Feng Zhongzui…

“Hey!”

Feng Zhongzui suddenly jumped up from the ground, as if remembering a fire left burning at home. He smacked Feng Zhongzui on the back of the head and said, “I'm heading home first. Take good care of the Chuandao Mirror.”

“Feng Lao, wait—” Xu Xiaoshou raised his hand just as Feng Zhongzui vanished.

He turned to the sword immortal with the goat beard, who he hadn't even greeted yet. If he wanted a match…

But Feng Zhongzui got smacked on the back of the head again and grumbled as he turned back.

“Take good care of it!”

Yang Xi zhi tossed out those words and disappeared.

Feng Zhongzui stood there stunned for a while, his face flashing with shock. He wailed, “Take me with you! I didn't bring any spirit crystals; how am I supposed to walk home?!”

“I'll take you.”

Xu Xiaoshou approached the young man…

Er, well, he was also young, not much older than this kid.

“Heh, Xiaoshou, no need. I enjoy getting close to nature.”

Feng Zhongzui backed away, scared. He knew exactly what the old family head was avoiding like the plague.

As a Feng family member, there was no way he'd get involved with Xiaoshou in some grand scheme—ghost beasts, dark forces…

It was thankless and would just bring trouble!

“Since the three Sword Immortal battles are over, I need to head back to the Feng family and save this battle record.”

Feng Zhongzui bowed repeatedly: “Congratulations, Xiaoshou, and best wishes! I'm off!”

He closed the Chuandao Mirror and vanished.

Xu Xiaoshou was about to reach out and pull him back when he sensed something and looked toward the direction of Gui Zhe Sheng Mountain, hanging in the sky…

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

A series of thunderous booms echoed.

Even from this distance, that destructive force seemed to transmit through the sound.

It was familiar.

Xu Xiaoshou's pupils dilated slightly; he had heard it before…

“Cangsheng is back?”

Not far away, Zhong Yuanzi suddenly spoke, his voice exaggerated with surprise.

Xu Xiaoshou couldn't help but glance over.

Fang Wenxin fell silent, slowly turning his gaze.

Zhong Yuanzi seemed oblivious, clapping his hands and muttering loudly to himself:

“Great!”

“Xuanji Hall Master can't move, Jiu Ji needs to guard the mountain, Yu Lao is a dead salted fish who won't help… Cangsheng Emperor can take charge!”

“He's one of the Ten Zun Seats, and among them, his combat strength is the most intact!”

“He's one of the Three Emperors, the only remaining emperor, the most reliable fighter against outsiders!”

“He's also, he's…”

Zhong Yuanzi's voice trailed off, his old face flushing as he glanced at Fang Wenxin, then at Cao Er zhu, Mu Zi xi, Lei Shuang xing, and others.

“Why are you all staring at me?” Zhong Yuanzi's tone finally wavered.

Fang Wenxin's mouth twitched: “Keep going!”

“Er.” Zhong Yuanzi was speechless, his eyes darting to Xu Xiaoshou, then he weakly finished: “Great, from extreme adversity comes prosperity…” His voice faded to nothing.

“Under reminder, passive value +1.”

“Under reminder, passive value +1.”

“Under reminder…”

Notifications kept popping up, and Xu Xiaoshou's heart raced—he had been waiting for this!

But he kept his expression neutral as he looked past Zhong Yuanzi to Cao Er zhu, Mu Zi xi, and the others:

“Come into my Xing Realm.”

Mu Zi xi shook her head.

She was now dominated by Lei Xi er's will, as one of the Yan Wang. She hadn't wanted to stay in the Xing Realm before.

But because of her injuries, Xu Xiaoshou had taken her in.

Now that she was clear-headed, why go back and get left behind by Xu Xiaoshou's rapid growth?

“I have to go.”

She left those words, pouted regretfully, and waved: “Xu Xiaoshou, goodbye!” Then she turned and left decisively.

Lei Shuang xing nodded in farewell and left.

Xuan Wu ji turned and left.

Everyone was gone; even Fang Wenxin and Zhong Yuanzi hurried toward Gui Zhe Sheng Mountain.

Xu Xiaoshou looked around; only one person remained.

“Xiaoshou bro…”

Cao Er zhu scratched his head awkwardly, his eyes crinkling into slits with a smile. “I won't leave; we're friends.”

One of the Ten Zun Seats, and you still dare to be my friend!

Oh, your dad is too, so that's fine… But would Ai Cangsheng give your dad face?

Xu Xiaoshou paused: “Come into my Xing Realm.”

“What's Xing Realm?”

“Something good to eat.”

Xu Xiaoshou knew Cao Er zhu was strong, but he didn't dare let him take the hits. He planned to test Ai Cangsheng himself.

As for the others…

Even Mu Zi xi knew staying would just be a burden; fighting Ai Cangsheng wasn't about numbers.

Xu Xiaoshou wasn't about to charge in directly.

At this point, even if he stormed Sheng Mountain and defeated Ai Cangsheng, Sang Lao was still in Ran Ming ruins.

Xu Xiaoshou had only one plan:

Intimidate Yujing, slay Xuanji, challenge the saints, defeat the Sword Immortals, drag out the time until Shengshen Hall was desperate—then Ai Cangsheng would have to return.

Once he left the ruins…

Heh, deciding when to enter and discussing plans side by side with Sang Lao would be up to him.

But Cao Er zhu shook his head, took the Xing Realm jade talisman, but didn't go in.

“I'll back you up.”

Seeing how stubborn he was, Xu Xiaoshou stopped persuading him and shifted his thoughts elsewhere.

With Ai Cangsheng's return, including Wen Ting's strength and even the Ran Ming ruins, he had questions—and the answers were likely more accurate than anyone else's!

In the Xing Realm, his second true body went straight to Li Fugui.

Outside, Xu Xiaoshou looked at the sturdy young man and asked without much hope:

“Er zhu, have you heard of ‘Cangsheng Emperor’?”

Unexpectedly, Cao Er zhu nodded: “I know. Dad said he's ‘the strongest now’!”