Shengui Changsheng: Start from Zhenwuwei and add some points to cultivate immortality

A look of surprise flashed in Su Qingwan's eyes: "Young Master has actually found the key!"

After three days of sailing, we arrived at "Duanyun City" on the lower reaches of the Chu River. This city was built against the mountain, with bluestone paving the streets and stilted houses on both sides. The eaves were covered with dried herbs and animal hides. This was a hub connecting the Central Plains and the southern frontier. There were merchants traveling all over the country, Miao doctors carrying medicine baskets, and many barbarian warriors with curved knives at their waists.

The two had just settled into the inn when they heard a commotion coming from the street. When they opened the window, they saw a group of warriors in black armor surrounding a boy carrying a bamboo basket. The burly man at the head of the group was wielding a spiked club and had kicked the boy's medicine basket to the ground, scattering herbs all over the place.

"You little bastard, how dare you steal the 'blood ginseng' from the city lord's mansion?" The burly man spat as he spoke. "The city lord said, beat him every time you see him!"

The boy, about fifteen or sixteen years old, with dark skin, clutched half a ginseng root covered in dirt tightly in his hand, his face flushed: "I dug this up in Black Stone Mountain, I didn't steal it!"

"Still dare to talk back!" The burly man slammed his club at the boy's hand. Wang Xiaohu frowned, flicked his finger, and a copper coin shot through the air, striking the spiked club squarely. With a clang, the burly man was forced back three steps, his hand going numb.

"What kind of skill is it to bully a child in broad daylight?" Wang Xiaohu leaped out of the window and landed in the middle of the street.

Seeing his ordinary attire, the burly man's eyes flashed with disdain: "Where did this brat come from, daring to interfere in the city lord's affairs?" The warriors behind him drew their swords, the blades gleaming coldly in the sunlight. The surrounding commoners retreated at the sight, some whispering a warning: "These are the city lord's personal guards, the 'Black Stone Guards,' said to be desperate outlaws who have practiced evil arts!"

Wang Xiaohu didn't draw his sword, but just looked at the boy: "Your ginseng, is it really not stolen?"

The boy nodded stiffly, "My mother is coughing so badly she's almost dying, this ginseng can save her..."

Before he could finish speaking, the burly man swung his club, the wind carrying the stench of blood—the club was still stained with dried blood. Wang Xiaohu dodged to the side, his fingertip lightly touching the club, using the "soft force" he had gleaned from Su Qingwan's incomplete manual. The burly man felt a surge of skillful force flowing through the club, his wrist went numb, and the club clattered to the ground.

"No matter how deeply one practices evil arts, if one's heart is not righteous, one will ultimately be a useless person," Wang Xiaohu said calmly.

Seeing this, the Black Stone Guards rushed forward. Wang Xiaohu lightly touched the ground with his toes, his figure weaving through the flashing blades. He didn't harm anyone, but merely used his scabbard to deflect their weapons one by one. As the last warrior staggered backward, he suddenly caught a glimpse of the wolf's head mark protruding from the man's neck—exactly the same as the black-clad men of Black Wind Valley!
"Are you remnants of the Demon Lord's faction?" Wang Xiaohu's eyes sharpened, and the mark between his brows lit up.

The burly man's expression changed drastically. He pulled out a black token from his pocket and crushed it. In an instant, horns sounded from all over the city, and dozens of Black Stone Guards poured out from both sides of the streets and alleys, their weapons simultaneously emitting black energy.

"Grab him! The Sword Master is here!" the burly man roared as he charged forward.

Su Qingwan had appeared beside Wang Xiaohu without anyone noticing, her pipa strings taut like a bow: "These people have set up a 'Spirit Locking Array,' trying to trap your sword soul with demonic energy!"

Wang Xiaohu took a deep breath, and the sword energy within his body resonated with the mark between his eyebrows. He suddenly remembered what Nangong Wan had said: "The strength of a sword spirit lies not in its killing power, but in its state of mind." He was no longer in a hurry to break the formation, but instead closed his eyes and let the demonic energy surge in like a tide.

Just as the demonic energy was about to touch his clothes, he suddenly opened his eyes and swept his longsword horizontally. This sword strike used no brute force, yet carried the gentle grace of "misty rain locking the river," the sword energy flowing like water through cracks in the rocks, seeping into the gaps between the weapons of the Black Stone Guards. A series of crisp clanging sounds rang out, and all the weapons emanating black energy shattered simultaneously!

"Impossible!" the burly man exclaimed incredulously.

Wang Xiaohu did not stop; he charged towards the city lord's mansion with sword steps. The Black Stone Guards along the way were about to stop him when they were repelled by the blue light emanating from his sword—that blue light contained the "purifying power" of the Star Sword Sect, which was specifically designed to ward off evil spirits.

In the main hall of the city lord's mansion, an old man in a brocade robe was kneeling and worshipping before a wolf head totem. Seeing Wang Xiaohu burst in, he whirled around, his face contorted with rage: "You brat from the Starry Sky Sword Sect, do you know why Broken Cloud City is called Broken Cloud? Because thirty years ago, we killed three elders of your Sword Sect right here!"

Looking at the totem behind him, Wang Xiaohu suddenly understood—these people were not only the remnants of the Demon Lord's forces, but also the murderers who participated in the siege of the Star Sword Sect elders back then! He gripped his longsword tightly, and the sword precepts of the past sect leaders flashed through his mind: "The sword can kill, but not indiscriminately; revenge must be taken, but right and wrong must be clearly distinguished."

"The events of that year will be judged by history." Wang Xiaohu pointed his sword at the ground. "But you used evil arts to harm the people, and you will be punished today."

The old man grinned maliciously and struck out with his palm, black energy condensing into the shape of a wolf's head. Wang Xiaohu neither dodged nor evaded, and the mark between his eyebrows suddenly burst forth with a dazzling blue light, the phantom of the Azure Frost Sword appearing behind him.

"The stars have returned to their rightful place!"

As the sword was swung, it seemed as if countless stars were flowing within the sword light, and the black energy dissipated upon contact. The old man screamed in agony as his body was pierced by the sword energy and turned into black smoke, vanishing into nothingness.

Having dealt with the remnants of the city lord's mansion, Wang Xiaohu returned to the street. The young man was kneeling on the ground, carefully wrapping up the scattered herbs with the corner of his robe. Seeing Wang Xiaohu approach, he quickly kowtowed, "Thank you, benefactor! My name is Aman, and I am a Miao from Black Stone Mountain..."

"Get up," Wang Xiaohu helped him up. "I might be able to cure your mother's illness."

It turned out that Aman's mother's cough was not ordinary, but rather a rare poison from the southern border called "Heart-Rotting Grass," the very same poison used by the remnants of the Demon Lord to control the Miao people. When Wang Xiaohu used his Starry Sky Sword Qi to expel the poison from Aman's mother, he discovered a silver bracelet on her wrist with the character "Star" engraved on the inside—it was actually a token of a disciple of the Starry Sky Sword Sect.

“My mother said this was left by my father.” Aman held the bracelet in her hands. “He said that when I grow up, he will take the bracelet to Xingchen Mountain to find a person named ‘Shi Qing’.”

Wang Xiaohu's heart stirred—Nangong Wan had mentioned that among the three elders who disappeared thirty years ago, one was indeed named Shi Qing, who was skilled in refining antidote pills. Three days later, Aman's mother recovered. Before leaving, Aman gave Wang Xiaohu a bag of "Soul-Gathering Flowers" from Black Stone Mountain: "My father said that this flower can nourish the sword soul... My benefactor, you must find my father."

Looking into the boy's expectant eyes, Wang Xiaohu nodded solemnly. He and Su Qingwan continued westward. The closer they got to the southern border, the heavier the humidity in the air became. Occasionally, they could see women dressed in Miao costumes carrying medicine baskets walking through the mountains and forests. The clinking of the silver ornaments at their waists echoed the distant cries of monkeys.

As they walked to a canyon called "Luoxia Ravine," they suddenly heard the clanging sound of blacksmithing coming from ahead. Following the sound, they saw an old man with a bare chest swinging a hammer at the foot of the cliff by the ravine. Sparks flew onto his wrinkled arms, but they did not leave a mark.

On the anvil in front of the old man lay an unfinished longsword. Although the blade was not sharpened, dragon patterns were already faintly visible.

"Excellent sword material," Wang Xiaohu couldn't help but praise.

The old man turned around, revealing a face blackened by smoke. His cloudy eyes suddenly lit up when he saw the mark between Wang Xiaohu's eyebrows: "The kid from the Star Sword Sect?"

"Junior Wang Xiaohu greets senior."

The old man put down the hammer and pointed to the sword blank on the anvil: "Do you recognize this material?"

Wang Xiaohu leaned closer for a closer look and saw a faint blue light flowing within the sword blank, its material bearing a striking resemblance to that of the Azure Frost Sword: "This is... 'Mysterious Iron Mother'?"

"You have a good eye." The old man grinned, revealing his missing tooth. "Fifty years ago, I used this material to forge a sword for Fu Shaoping. It's a pity he died young, before the sword was even finished being tempered..."

It turns out that this old man was a descendant of Ou Yezi, the swordsmith who forged the Azure Frost Sword for Fu Shaoping. Back then, when the Demon Lord caused chaos, he hid in this Sunset Valley for thirty years, all to complete the "Demon Suppressing Sword" that Fu Shaoping had entrusted to him to forge.

“This sword needs to be tempered by the sword spirit to take shape.” Old Master Ouye stroked the sword blank. “The mark between your eyebrows is the best ‘tempering stone’.”

That night, Ou Ye Lao lit a fire in the earth and threw the Xuan Tie mother sword blank into it. Wang Xiaohu followed his instructions, placing his palm on the sword blank and letting the power of the sword spirit between his brows flow into it. At first, the sword blank was as hot as molten lava, piercing his meridians with pain, but as he silently recited the Starry Sky Sword Sect's mental cultivation method, the sword blank gradually emitted a warm blue light, merging with the sword energy within his body.

"It's done!" Ou Ye Lao suddenly quenched the fire, and amidst the rising steam, a long sword with a pure blue light rose from the water. The dragon patterns on the sword seemed to come alive, slowly swimming in the moonlight.

The moment Wang Xiaohu grasped the sword hilt, a scene flashed through his mind of Fu Shaoping and Ou Ye Lao forging swords years ago—the two drinking together by the firelight, Fu Shaoping saying, "A sword is a tool for protecting the Way, not a tool for slaughter."

He suddenly realized that the true way of the sword is not about killing everyone, but about protecting.

When leaving Luoxia Ravine, Ou Ye handed him the Demon-Suppressing Sword: "This sword can absorb demonic energy. It might come in handy if you encounter the remnants of the Demon Lord in the future." He looked at the distant Star Mountain and said, "Tell Nangong boy that I haven't forgotten the sword that his master asked me to forge back then."

Carrying the Demon-Suppressing Sword, Wang Xiaohu continued his journey with Su Qingwan. The fog ahead seemed to thicken, but the blue mark between his brows grew brighter, as if guiding his way. He knew this path of training was long, and the conspiracies hidden behind the fog, the people waiting to be redeemed, and the sword path needing to be passed down all awaited him ahead. And the sword in his hand and the path in his heart would accompany him step by step.

Su Qingwan gazed at the faint wisp of energy swirling around Wang Xiaohu's fingertips, a genuine surprise flashing in her eyes, her voice carrying a barely perceptible excitement: "Young Master has actually grasped the basics! This method of soft energy required even the senior who created the incomplete manual to spend three years diligently comprehending it, yet you have grasped its essence in just half a month, which is truly remarkable."

Wang Xiaohu scratched his head, a slight blush creeping onto his face. "Perhaps it's because Miss Su's annotations on the incomplete score are so thorough, or perhaps it's because these past few days on the river, watching the water flow around the rocks, that I suddenly understood the principle of 'softness can overcome hardness.'" As he spoke, he raised his hand, mimicking the gesture Su Qingwan had demonstrated in his memory, and lightly touched the wooden railing of the boat with his fingertip. The hard mahogany seemed like soft mud soaked in spring water, quietly sinking into a shallow indentation, then slowly bouncing back, leaving only a barely visible mark.

Su Qingwan's fingers, which were caressing the pipa, paused slightly. Her gaze fell on the shallow depression, and she said softly, "Water has no fixed shape; it takes the shape of a square or a circle, yet it can penetrate stone and break rocks. Young Master, you can comprehend swordsmanship from all things in heaven and earth. This mindset is more valuable than the sword techniques themselves."

After three days of sailing, the river breeze gradually carried a humid and hot air, and the mountains on both banks were tinged with layers of green. Finally, they arrived at "Broken Cloud City" on the lower reaches of the Chu River. This city was built against the mountain, and dozens of merchant ships were moored end to end at the river dock, with goods from the north and south piled up like mountains on the gangplanks. The city's bluestone roads were polished to a shine by the footsteps of passersby, and the houses on both sides were mostly stilted buildings with wooden pillars extending into the riverbed. The window frames of the upper floors were carved with intricate patterns, and dried herbs and animal hides hung under the eaves. This was a hub connecting the Central Plains and the southern frontier. There were merchants traveling from north to south with satchels on their backs, Miao doctors with blue headscarves and medicine baskets on their backs, and many barbarian warriors with scimitars at their waists and red skin. When you passed by, you could smell the unique scent of animal oil on their bodies.

After settling into the "Wangyun Inn" by the river, the two opened the window to look at the street scene when they heard a commotion downstairs. Peeking out, they saw a group of warriors in black armor surrounding a boy carrying a bamboo basket. The burly man at the head of the group, a man with broad shoulders and a thick, muscular build, wielded a spiked club as thick as a bowl. He kicked the boy's medicine basket to the ground. Dried houttuynia cordata and dandelions were scattered everywhere, mixed with the muddy water in the cracks of the bluestone, and crushed to a pulp by the warriors' boots.

"You little bastard, how dare you steal the City Lord's 'Blood Ginseng'?" The burly man spat as he spoke, his triangular eyes wide with rage. "The City Lord said, beat him every time you see him, break his legs!"

The boy was about fifteen or sixteen years old, his skin tanned dark from years of sun exposure. His faded coarse cloth jacket was patched in several places, but he clutched tightly in his hand half a ginseng root, covered in mud, with fresh grass roots still clinging to its whiskers. His face was flushed, the veins on his forehead throbbing, but he gritted his teeth and refused to let go: "I dug this up in Black Stone Mountain. I dug all night yesterday to find it. I didn't steal it!"

"Still dare to talk back!" Enraged by the boy's stubbornness, the burly man raised his spiked club high, whistling through the air as it struck the boy's hand clutching the ginseng. A murmur of surprise rippled through the surrounding crowd, but no one dared to intervene.

Wang Xiaohu frowned and flicked a copper coin from his purse. The coin flew through the air with a faint hum and struck the spiked club with a "clang." The burly man felt a surge of force coursing through his arm and was forced to stagger back three steps, his hand going numb and nearly dropping his weapon.

"What kind of skill is it to bully a child in broad daylight?" Wang Xiaohu's clear voice pierced through the chaotic noise. He lightly touched the windowsill with his toes, his figure leaping out like a swallow, landing steadily in the middle of the street, his blue robe fluttering slightly in the wind.

The burly man, seeing that he was dressed in a faded cloth shirt and had only an ordinary iron sword hanging at his waist, sneered, "Where did this wild brat come from, daring to interfere in the city lord's affairs? Are you tired of living?" The warriors behind him drew their swords, the blades gleaming coldly in the afternoon sun, clearly well-worn weapons. (End of Chapter)