Chapter 1799: Return

“Is this… sword thought?”

The Golden Apricot screen was suddenly flooded with shocked discussions.

Two fingers, slicing a hundred-zhang-tall specter, tearing apart the power of the Grim Reaper, piercing straight through the clouds—what else could this be but sword thought?

“Is this carriage young master still an ancient sword cultivator? Surely he’s not using power left by an elder from his clan, right?”

“There are no major clans among ancient sword cultivators, only the Feng family in the Southern Domain. Would Feng Tingchen, one of the previous Seven Sword Immortals, possess sword thought?”

“No way! Young master, sword thought… brothers, this reminds me of someone…”

“It’s not sword thought. Sword thought materializes as a silver sword energy, it’s energy. How could it be this viscous, liquid-like stuff he’s using?”

“Why is everyone jumping to conclusions? Master Shou hasn’t shown up in half a year. Just seeing a young master makes you think he’s Master Shou?”

“Am I the only one who feels this young master’s Ten-Segment Sword Finger seems stronger than Master Shou’s?”

“Shut up!”

“You think you know everything!”

“If you don’t understand, go watch Drunk in the Wind. Drunk in the Wind is doing better than Master Shou now.”

“Good scolding! Though now everyone dares to criticize Drunk in the Wind…”

The Golden Apricot comments exploded again with the appearance of the words “Master Shou,” as more people joined the argument, and the popularity surged.

Hong Niang paid no attention.

She couldn’t recover from the shock of what she was seeing.

Being closer to the battlefield than anyone else, she naturally saw everything more clearly…

It wasn’t an elder from his clan making a move at all; it was the carriage young master’s own hand, shattering the white-faced specter’s dream of revenge after it unleashed its true form.

“Ten-Segment Sword Finger…”

“No, the key is not the Ten-Segment Sword Finger…”

Hong Niang knew there were too many people in the world who practiced a fake Ten-Segment Sword Finger in an attempt to imitate the Eighth Sword Immortal.

But the “Name” this carriage young master used before performing the Ten-Segment Sword Finger—that was the key!

“Name? What is that?”

“Is it the kind of ‘Name’ cultivated by ancient sword cultivators?”

“But isn’t this ‘Name’ an ethereal, intangible thing? How could it be materialized by others?”

Hong Niang didn’t understand swords, but like most people, she had deeply researched ancient sword cultivators because of Master Shou.

And she had more resources, allowing her to delve even deeper.

She wasn’t qualified to attend Feng Tingchen’s classes from the Southern Domain’s Feng family, but she had visited Elder Yang Xizhi, Feng Tingchen’s friend, several times.

According to Elder Yang, besides the nine major sword arts, ancient sword cultivators in the Five Domains currently focused on studying one more thing: “Name.”

“There are three cultivators of Name in this era: Ba, Xiao, and Xu.”

“Ba Zun’an and Xiao Kongtong, you might not see them often.”

“But Master Shou, you must have seen more often, after all, he was once a key target of the Dao Transmission Mirror’s main mirror.”

Hong Niang still remembered Elder Yang’s final, voluntary mention of “Name” after she had thoroughly learned about ancient sword cultivators’ sword arts, sword flows, and sword paths.

This was the latest conclusion he and his friends—Feng Tingchen, Mei Siren, Gu Yu, You Tu, and others—had discussed and arrived at, either previously or recently:

“Name first means reputation.”

“Reputation nourishes all things, but the process is slow, often taking tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of years to cultivate a named sword.”

“Ba Zun’an, however, created ‘Sword Contemplation Art,’ turning the ethereal into the real, materializing the intangible ‘Name’ into a tangible ‘Thought,’ which is sword thought—he accelerated this process.”

The example Elder Yang gave was too distant; no one understood it then, so he switched to a different one:

“Take Master Shou as an example: even if he achieved the First Sword Immortal rank, his Name nourished Zang Ku. Even if Zang Ku underwent a second refinement and initially evolved into a first-grade artifact… it still has a gap to close before becoming a named sword.”

“Do you gentlemen know how sharp sword thought is? It’s comparable to ancestral origin power!”

“So, if an ordinary first-grade spirit sword cannot withstand a single strike of ancestral origin power, how could it withstand the ‘nourishment’ of sword thought materialized by Sword Contemplation Art?”

“Nourishment, in essence, is damage, but it also carries a layer of ‘break before build,’ akin to a lightning tribulation. If not for shallow to deep, gradual ‘nourishment,’ an ordinary first-grade spirit sword would likely be discarded at the very beginning of its contemplation.”

At this point, Hong Niang vividly recalled Elder Yang’s heartfelt admiration for Master Shou and his sword:

“Master Shou cultivated his thought from humble beginnings, and Zang Ku was nourished by Sword Contemplation Art from its nascent stage; both grew together.”

“Now that Master Shou has achieved the First Sword Immortal rank, Zang Ku can already withstand the strongest nourishment from Name. Although it’s not among the twenty-one named swords, it already possesses the essence of one.”

A young female ancient sword cultivator asked, “So, what about beyond named swords, or rather, beyond ‘sword thought’?”

This incisive question clearly piqued Elder Yang’s keen interest. At his urging, the young woman elaborated:

“The son of Kuilei Han once mentioned that the first generation of ‘Thorough Divine Thought, Punishing Divine Punishment Tribulation’ had a total of six variations.”

“I believe that after thirty years, if Ba Zun’an, who is also one of the Ten Revered Seats, still remains at the basic level of second-generation ‘Thorough Divine Thought,’ which is ‘sword thought,’ then he wouldn’t deserve to be called the Eighth Sword Immortal.”

Indeed, sword thought had already stumped countless ancient sword cultivators.

Compared to Ba Zun’an and others, it was merely a basic level, but for other ancient sword cultivators, it was a different story.

To this question, Elder Yang pondered for a long time but still couldn’t give an answer, so he relayed someone else’s words:

“Your question might have an answer from Mei Siren. I once heard him say something like this…”

“The sword is an extension of the hand; skill is the externalization of power; thought is the embodiment of Name. All paths are thus; these three are all ‘borrowed paths.’”

“There is borrowing and returning. So, when techniques are perfected and ‘tools’ are no longer needed, fingers can also serve as swords, merging power and skill into ancient martial arts.”

He paused there, and everyone attending the lecture at the time collectively asked, “What about thought and Name?”

Elder Yang shook his head, perhaps imitating Mr. Siren’s tone, and slowly said:

“Thought is the thought of spirit refinement, not the thought of ancient sword cultivators. Ba Zun’an merely adapted it once to extract ‘Name’ from it.”

“Naturally, thought and Name are different paths.”

“So, when discarding thought and restoring Name, what ancient sword cultivators need to do might not be to consider the fusion of thought and Name, but to try to return to simplicity.”

The only one present who seemed to keep up with the pace was the young woman who had asked the question. She asked again, “What does it mean to return to simplicity?”

Elder Yang smiled and said, “First, mountains are mountains, then mountains are not mountains, and finally, mountains are still mountains.”

At the time, Hong Niang was completely baffled.

After all, she was the only one present who wasn’t an ancient sword cultivator yet attended a master class, but the power of spirit crystals was invincible.

After the class, she couldn’t bribe Elder Yang for private tutoring, so she bribed the young woman who had asked such insightful questions.

The young woman said, “If thought and Name are different paths, then the concept of ‘beyond sword thought’ might inherently be wrong; it should be ‘beyond Name.’”

Beyond Name… Hong Niang’s heart sank; she felt like she was listening to an incomprehensible scripture. The young woman, who seemed even younger than herself, chuckled and continued:

“After spirit refinement, there is spiritual energy; from innate to grand void, there is spiritual essence; and beyond a half-saint, one can generate saintly power.”

“If you still don’t understand, you can compare it to the three states of matter: gas, liquid, and solid.”

“Similarly, if Name has three stages, Name One is sword thought, manifested as sword energy; then Name Two might be ‘water.’”

“This ‘water’ is not that ‘water’; it’s merely a deep description of a power level. Oh, it seems I’m making it even harder for you to understand…”

Hong Niang only got the gist; she couldn’t understand the principles at all. She pulled out her Golden Apricot, intending to pay for the connection, and tapped it against the young woman’s:

“Sister, may I have your name?”

The young woman’s eyes were like rippling waves beneath dark brows, and her voice was as pleasant as wind chimes. She smiled charmingly and said:

“August.”

The Cinnamon Carriage landed heavily from its tilted position, returning to stability. The horses in front neighed loudly, seemingly quite startled.

Hong Niang was even more startled!

Name · Ten-Segment Sword Finger retracted.

The “water” that had pierced through the Grim Reaper’s sword and the white-faced fiend did not disappear but lingered in the void.

At a glance, the clear, swirling “water” seemed to have sword light and dao patterns outlined within it.

Upon closer inspection, the “water” was simply water. It wasn’t sword thought or anything else; it was merely the manifestation of “essence.”

But what essence of power from an ancient sword cultivator could break through ancestral origin power—only “thought,” only “Name,” right?

“Sword thought essence… Name…”

“Sword thought sword energy… liquefied into water…”

Elder Yang’s words back then had no demonstration.

After all, it was all theoretical discussion; even though he spoke eloquently, the lecturer himself hadn’t cultivated even the most basic sword thought.

But what she saw now, combined with those past words… Hong Niang’s beautiful eyes widened!

She couldn’t remember the principles of Name or anything like that.

In her mind at that moment, only Elder Yang’s very first sentence flashed: “There are three cultivators of Name in this era: Ba, Xiao, and Xu.”

Could the person inside the carriage be Ba Zun’an?

Impossible. The Eighth Sword Immortal was spreading sword thought and slaying specters in the Central Yuan Realm. Her current journey was precisely to meet him, and she hadn’t yet!

Then, could he be Xiao Kongtong?

This was the Central Domain; Senior Brother Xiao wouldn’t come here. And he didn’t fit the image of such a sickly young master. She’d heard he had a big mouth?

“Could he be Master Shou?”

As this thought crossed her mind, Hong Niang’s delicate body trembled.

It was only then that she vaguely remembered.

When Master Shou first appeared in the Central Domain, he also seemed to use the name “Xu Gusheng,” and was also a sickly young master?

Even if she remembered incorrectly…

A single person can manifest countless variations!

The person inside the carriage could be anyone, but there was definitely a high probability he was a manifestation of Master Shou, just to tease the world!

Swish.

At this thought, Hong Niang’s eyes instantly turned red. She glanced at the number of viewers in the upper right corner of the Golden Apricot screen: 1.8 million.

This was incredible.

It was the highest she had ever achieved in her life.

Drunk in the Wind’s single transmission of the Dao only drew seven to eight million people—and he was Emperor Zhong Zui!

But now, if it truly was Master Shou appearing on her Golden Apricot screen… Hong Niang’s chest rose and fell, her breathing quickened, feeling as though she would faint from happiness.

Seven to eight million?

Even secondhand fame could yield seven to eight million!

With Master Shou himself personally present, if she seized this opportunity, the descendants of Uncle Jin and Elder Fu could be set for a hundred generations!

Sizzle…

Above the Cinnamon Carriage, the Grim Reaper’s power finally crumbled and vanished into smoke and mist.

Meanwhile, the hundred-zhang fiend, pierced by the earlier single finger, remained firmly locked in the void, trembling silently.

In its moon-disc-sized eyes, there was now only terror, helplessness, and horror.

“Young master, Sword Maiden has returned.”

In front of the carriage, Old Li skillfully retrieved the sword-holding chicken that had descended from the sky and handed it into the carriage.

The young master’s light, leisurely laughter then drifted from inside the carriage:

“I thought after accumulating Grim Reaper’s power for so long, it would be more impressive.”

“Not to mention comparing to ‘Love All Beings,’ it should at least be much stronger than your fallen comrades, shouldn’t it?”

“Tsk, not at all.”

Hearing this, Hong Niang’s heart trembled even more violently.

Love All Beings…

He mentioned Love All Beings again…

Still mentioning it in such a casual tone, as if it were merely an insignificant name…

Hong Niang gripped her Golden Apricot tightly, only relieved that she hadn’t been struck by the white-faced specter’s sword moments ago, and her Golden Apricot hadn’t triggered its defense mechanism and exploded or shattered.

“Who exactly is this kid?”

“Yeah, how dare he repeatedly profane Emperor Cangsheng?”

“Don’t let this old man find him, or I’ll wipe out his entire Grand Void clan; even his clan elders won’t be able to protect him!”

While insults still raged in the foreground, and the spectators’ fury was unstoppable, Hong Niang only stared straight ahead.

Ahead, as the voice paused, the carriage curtain stirred. A hand reached out to part the curtain—was the young master coming out?

On the Golden Apricot screen, the numerous angry curses and reprimands also somewhat subsided. Everyone watched in unison, and then the young master’s voice was heard:

“I’ve cultivated Name for half a year, and finally gained something.”

“Alas, after searching throughout the Ghost-Buddha Realm, I could only find a beast like you, close to the saint level, capable of enduring one or two of my named sword arts.”

“But your Grim Reaper’s power is too shallow; your master needs to come…”

The curtain was finally pulled open.

Old Li had already jumped down from the carriage beforehand and set up a golden cinnamon wood ladder in front.

Soon, a figure stepped out from the carriage: dressed in white with a black robe, adorned with jade beads at his waist, his posture tall and straight, handsome and elegant.

As he exited the carriage, he bent slightly, one hand holding up his robe’s hem, the other smoothing his temple hair, revealing only a profile.

But it was this distinct profile, this profile that had appeared countless times in the Dao Transmission Mirror back then…

The nearly two million people on the Golden Apricot screen completely ceased their clamor.

And when he walked out of the carriage, turned around, faced the Golden Apricot from afar, and calmly descended the golden cinnamon wood ladder,

The Golden Apricot screen erupted!

“Master Shou?”

“What’s going on? Am I seeing things, Master Shou?”

“No, this guy really has something going for him; how can he look so much like Master Shou…”

In a flash, Hong Niang’s vision was completely overwhelmed by a dense flood of comments; she couldn’t see anything at all.

This had never happened before during her previous Dao transmissions, and it was terrifying. What if it happened during a battle?

Without a second thought, Hong Niang chose to turn off comment visibility.

And when, filled with trepidation, her gaze refocused on the young man descending from the carriage, and she recognized his identity,

“Ah—”

Hong Niang let out a sharp cry, “He, he… he, he, he…”

She stammered “he” for a long time, her tongue seemingly tied, unable to even utter the rest of the sentence.

But as a Dao master, could she not even speak a single sentence?

Hong Niang pinched the soft flesh of her upper thigh, twisting it hard, and all her tumultuous emotions poured out:

“Master Shou?!”

The moment the words left her mouth, Hong Niang’s heart pounded.

With nearly two million people watching, one could be careless about what one eats, but one must not be careless about what one says!

This was “Master Shou.” Given his popularity, if she said one wrong word, she could be swarmed to death by the Master Shou scholars of the Five Domains tomorrow, falling into an abyss of no return.

Hong Niang, anxious, didn’t bother to scrutinize the young man further and urgently turned on comment visibility again.

In an instant, her entire view vanished, replaced by comments scrolling across the screen.

But unlike the previous doubts and curses,

Now, in the comment section, tens of thousands of comments streamed in each second, yet, without any moderation, they were lining up in perfect order!

No one was speaking randomly.

No one was lurking without commenting.

What scrolled past her eyes, neatly and in perfect order, was one identical, utterly shocking sentence:

“Welcome, Master Shou!”