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

Seeing this, the surrounding people retreated. Some shrank back and whispered to those nearby, "These are the city lord's personal guards, the 'Black Stone Guards.' They're said to be desperados who have practiced evil arts and have killed many people!" "The other day, Old Zhang from the west of the city had his leg broken just because he glanced at them a couple of times!"

Wang Xiaohu ignored the warriors who had drawn their swords, and simply squatted down, looking the boy in the eye: "Your ginseng, is it really not stolen?"

The boy stiffened his neck, tears welling in his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall, nodding vigorously: "My mother was coughing so badly she was almost dying, and the doctor said only blood ginseng could save her... I dug for three days before finally finding this half on the top of Black Rock Mountain..."

Before he could finish speaking, the burly man swung his club again, the wind carrying a faint smell of blood—upon closer inspection, one could see that the spikes of the club were still stained with dried, dark red blood, the blood of countless people. Wang Xiaohu dodged to the side, his fingertip lightly touching the whistling club, using the "soft force" he had gleaned from Su Qingwan's incomplete manual. The burly man felt a tricky, skillful force surge through the club, his wrist feeling as if bitten by a venomous snake, suddenly going numb. The club clattered to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"No matter how deeply one practices evil arts, if one's heart is not righteous, one is ultimately a useless person." Wang Xiaohu patted the dust off his sleeves, his tone calm but carrying an undeniable power.

Seeing this, the Black Stone Guards shouted and rushed forward. Wang Xiaohu lightly touched the ground with his toes, his figure weaving through the flashing blades like a willow catkin. He didn't draw his sword to attack, but simply used the scabbard to deftly deflect everyone's weapons one by one. Those heavy steel blades seemed like paper before him, spinning eerily as they left his hand. As the last warrior staggered backward, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a wolf's head mark protruding from the man's neck—a jet-black wolf's head baring its fangs, exactly the same as the marks on the necks of the black-clad men of Black Wind Valley!
"Are you remnants of the Demon Lord's faction?" Wang Xiaohu's eyes suddenly sharpened, and the pale blue mark between his brows faintly lit up, emitting a dim light.

The burly man's face changed drastically, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He hurriedly pulled out a black token from his pocket and crushed it. The moment the token shattered, the sound of horns echoed throughout the city. Dozens of Black Stone Guards poured out from behind the eaves of houses and shops on both sides of the street, their weapons simultaneously emitting a faint black aura, completely surrounding the entire street.

"Grab him! The Sword Master is here!" The burly man roared as he charged forward, his eyes flashing with fanaticism.

Su Qingwan had appeared beside Wang Xiaohu without anyone noticing, the strings of her pipa taut like a bow, ready to unleash a deadly attack at any moment. Looking at the surging black energy around them, she said softly, "These people have set up a 'Spirit-Locking Array,' trying to trap your sword spirit with demonic energy. Don't be careless."

Wang Xiaohu took a deep breath, the sword energy within his body resonating faintly with the mark between his brows. He suddenly remembered what Nangong Wan had said before they parted: "The strength of a sword spirit lies not in its killing power, but in its state of mind. When the mind is chaotic, the sword is chaotic; when the mind is clear, the sword is sharp." He was no longer in a hurry to break the formation. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes, letting the foul-smelling demonic energy surge in like a tide, trying to erode his meridians.

Just as the demonic energy was about to touch his clothes, he suddenly opened his eyes and swept his longsword horizontally. This strike used no brute force, yet carried the gentle grace of "misty rain locking the river," the sword energy like a spring drizzle, seeping into the gaps between the Black Stone Guards' weapons. A series of crisp clanging sounds rang out, and all the weapons shrouded in black energy simultaneously snapped in half, the breaks as clean as mirrors!

"Impossible!" The burly man's eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief, as if he had witnessed something that defied all reason.

Wang Xiaohu did not stop. He used the sword steps of the Starry Sky Sword Sect to rush towards the City Lord's Mansion like a streak of blue light. The Black Stone Guards along the way were about to stop him, but they were repelled by the blue light emanating from his sword. The blue light contained the Starry Sky Sword Sect's unique "purifying power", which was specifically designed to counter evil spirits. When it touched the black energy, it made a "sizzling" sound, like boiling oil meeting water.

In the main hall of the city lord's mansion, an old man in a brocade robe was kneeling and chanting before a huge wolf head totem. The totem was made of black iron, with two scarlet gems inlaid in the wolf's eyes, gleaming eerily in the dim light. Seeing Wang Xiaohu burst in, he whirled around, his wrinkles now filled with black energy, his voice hoarse as a broken gong: "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 here! That blood rain stained the clouds of the entire mountain red, and it lingered for three days!"

Looking at the totem behind him and then at the wolf head mark peeking out from the old man's sleeve, 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 admonitions engraved on the sword monument by 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, and one must not be trapped by violence."

"The events of that year will be judged by public opinion, and the sect will investigate the truth." Wang Xiaohu pointed his sword tip diagonally at the ground, his voice calm yet carrying immense power. "But you used evil techniques to harm the people and indiscriminately killed innocents. You will be punished today."

The old man grinned maliciously and struck out with his palm. The black energy gathered in his palm instantly transformed into the shape of a wolf's head, which opened its blood-red maw to bite down, carrying a bone-chilling stench. Wang Xiaohu neither dodged nor evaded. Suddenly, the mark between his eyebrows burst forth with a dazzling blue light, and a huge phantom of the Azure Frost Sword slowly emerged behind him. The starlight flowing on the sword seemed to illuminate the entire hall.

"The stars have returned to their rightful place!"

As the sword was swung, it seemed as if countless stars were flowing and falling within the sword light. The old man's black aura dissipated upon encountering it, like ice and snow melting away. He screamed in agony as his body was pierced by the sword energy, turning into a wisp of black smoke and vanishing, leaving only his empty brocade robe lying on the ground.

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 gathering up the scattered herbs one by one with the corner of his robe, not even letting go of the roots mixed in with the mud. Seeing Wang Xiaohu approach, he quickly kowtowed three times, his forehead hitting the bluestone ground with a "thump, thump" sound: "Thank you so much, benefactor! My name is Aman, I am a Miao from Black Stone Mountain... I will remember your great kindness for the rest of my life!"

"Get up." Wang Xiaohu helped him up and noticed the red marks on his wrists from the bamboo basket. He said softly, "I might be able to cure your mother's illness."

Following Aman through several narrow alleys, they arrived at a low stilted house. The house reeked of strong medicinal smells and a faint musty odor. A sallow-faced woman lay on a bamboo bed, each cough sounding as if she were coughing up her lungs; her thin shoulders trembled violently. When Wang Xiaohu took her pulse, the skin beneath his fingertips was burning hot, and her pulse was weak and feeble. She had been poisoned with a rare poison from the southern border called "Heart-Rotting Grass"—a poison that slowly erodes the heart, causing one to cough up blood incessantly; it was the very poison the remnants of the Demon Lord had used to control the Miao people.

As he used his Starry Sky Sword Qi to expel the poison from the woman, he suddenly noticed a shiny silver bracelet on her wrist with a small "star" engraved on the inside—it was actually a token of a disciple of the Starry Sky Sword Sect!

“This bracelet…” Wang Xiaohu asked, pointing at the bracelet.

Holding the freshly brewed medicine bowl, Aman whispered, "This was left by my father. He said that when I grow up, he will take the bracelet to Xingchen Mountain to find a person named 'Shi Qing,' saying that he is his senior brother... My father went up the mountain to collect herbs three years ago and has never returned..." 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 not only skilled in swordsmanship but also adept at refining antidote pills, and had a particular interest in the poisons of the Southern Frontier.

For three days, Wang Xiaohu forced the poison out of Aman's mother, while Su Qingwan soothed her restless mind with the sound of her pipa. When the woman was finally able to breathe smoothly and her complexion gradually regained its color, Aman ran back carrying a basket of freshly picked herbs. She took out an oiled paper package from her bosom and carefully handed it to Wang Xiaohu: "My benefactor, this is the 'Soul-Gathering Flower' I picked deep in Black Stone Mountain. My father said this flower can nourish a sword soul... Please accept it. Also, you must help me find my father, even if... even just knowing his whereabouts would be enough."

Looking at the expectation in the boy's eyes, Wang Xiaohu nodded solemnly: "I promise you, I will definitely find out Elder Shi's whereabouts."

As they left Duanyun City, Aman stood at the dock waving goodbye until the boat rounded the bend in the mountain and disappeared from sight before turning back. Wang Xiaohu and Su Qingwan continued westward. The closer they got to Southern Xinjiang, the heavier the humidity in the air and the more lush the vegetation became. They often saw enormous banyan trees with their roots extending into the river, their aerial roots hanging down like natural curtains. Occasionally, they could see Miao women in pleated skirts carrying medicine baskets, moving through the mountains and forests. The silver ornaments at their waists clinked together, creating a crisp sound that echoed the distant cries of monkeys and the roar of the river, adding a unique touch of wild charm.

As we approached a canyon called "Luoxia Ravine," we suddenly heard the clanging of blacksmithing ahead, accompanied by the wheezing of bellows, all of which was remarkably clear in the silent valley. Following the sound, we saw an old man, bare-chested, hammering iron at the foot of the cliff beside the ravine. Sparks flew onto his wrinkled and calloused arms, but they didn't leave a mark; they simply turned into wisps of white smoke in an instant.

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, and it gleamed with a warm luster in the setting sun.

"Excellent sword material." Wang Xiaohu couldn't help but praise. He could feel the abundant spiritual energy contained in the sword blank, which was even more mellow than the Azure Frost Sword in his hand.

The old man turned around, revealing a face blackened by smoke, sweat trickling down his deeply wrinkled forehead. His cloudy eyes suddenly lit up when he saw the mark between Wang Xiaohu's brows, as if two flames had been ignited: "The Star Sword Sect's brat?"

"Junior Wang Xiaohu greets senior." Wang Xiaohu cupped his hands in greeting. To encounter someone who could recognize the sect's mark in such a place was clearly no ordinary person.

The old man put down the hammer, wiped his sweat with the coarse cloth draped over his shoulder, 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 texture was tough yet warm, bearing a striking resemblance to the material of the Azure Frost Sword, only its spiritual energy was more restrained and profound: "This is... 'Mysterious Iron Mother'? The legendary material that can bear the sword soul, a material of supreme yang?"

"You have a good eye." The old man grinned, revealing a missing tooth in his gums, his laughter booming like a bell. "Fifty years ago, I used this material to forge a sword for that brat Fu Shaoping. It's a pity he died young, and this sword wasn't even finished being tempered..."

It turned out that the old man was actually a descendant of Ou Yezi, the swordsmith who forged the Azure Frost Sword for Fu Shaoping, the head of the Star Sword Sect. Back then, when the Demon Lord caused chaos, he did not want the weapon he had forged to fall into the hands of evil spirits, so he hid in this Sunset Glow Ravine. He hid there for thirty years, just to complete the "Demon Suppressing Sword" that Fu Shaoping had entrusted to him to forge—a divine weapon specially forged to suppress demonic energy.

“This sword needs the purest sword spirit to be tempered and formed; ordinary martial artists’ internal energy simply cannot control it.” Old Master Ouye stroked the sword blank as if he were stroking his own child. “The mark between your eyebrows is formed from the sword spirit of the stars, which is the best ‘tempering stone’.”

That night, Ou Ye Lao lit a fire in the ground, and the flames were an unusual, ghostly blue, illuminating the entire cave as if it were a dream. He threw the black iron mother sword blank into the fire, and the blank gradually turned red in the ghostly blue flames, but it always maintained its sword shape, without showing any signs of melting.

"Place your palm on the sword blank, circulate your inner energy, and let your sword spirit power slowly seep in," Old Master Ou said in a deep voice. "Remember, do not be impatient. You must let your sword intent merge with the sword blank, just like a stream flowing into a river."

Wang Xiaohu did as instructed. The moment his palm touched the sword blank, he felt a scorching heat surge into his meridians, as if countless fine needles were pricking him, causing cold sweat to instantly bead on his forehead. But he gritted his teeth, silently reciting the Starry Sky Sword Sect's mental cultivation method, guiding the sword energy within his body to flow slowly. Gradually, the sword blank emitted a warm, bluish light, resonating with the sword energy within his body, and the burning pain transformed into a warm current, nourishing his meridians.

After an unknown amount of time, as the first rays of dawn pierced through the cliff crevice and shone into the cave, Ou Ye abruptly pulled the sword blank from the fire and tossed it into the nearby icy pool. With a sizzle, steam rose and filled the entire cave. As the mist dissipated, a long sword, its entire body gleaming with a bluish light, slowly rose from the water. The dragon patterns on the blade seemed to come alive, undulating gently in the morning light and emitting a deep, resonant roar.

The moment Wang Xiaohu grasped the hilt of the sword, countless images flashed through his mind—Fu Shaoping and Ou Ye Lao drinking together by the firelight, Fu Shaoping holding the newly forged Qing Shuang sword, saying loudly: "A sword is a tool for protecting the Way, not a tool for slaughter. If it is wielded for selfish desires, even the sharpest sword is nothing more than a weapon of murder."

He suddenly understood that the true way of the sword is not about killing everyone, but about protecting—protecting the principles in one's heart, protecting the weak, and protecting those things that are worth cherishing.

As he left Luoxia Ravine, Old Master Ouye handed him the Demon-Suppressing Sword and then gave him something wrapped in oilcloth: "This is a fragment of a sword manual left behind by Fu Shaoping. It might be useful to you. This sword can absorb demonic energy; you might find it useful if you encounter the remnants of the Demon Lord's forces in the future." He gazed at the distant, mist-shrouded Star Mountain and sighed, "Tell that boy Nangong that I haven't forgotten the sword his master entrusted to me to forge. Let him not forget his master's teachings either."

Carrying the Demon-Suppressing Sword, Wang Xiaohu continued his journey with Su Qingwan. The fog ahead seemed to thicken, and they could vaguely hear eerie songs echoing from the mountain valleys, or see blurry black shadows flashing through the forest. But the blue mark between his brows grew brighter, as if guiding their 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 to be passed down all awaited him ahead. And the sword in his hand, the path in his heart, would accompany him step by step, until the clouds parted and the truth was revealed. (End of Chapter)