The comet remained silent, only relentlessly unleashing heavenly tribulations.

Chapter 125 Fan Qinghui

Emperor's Peak is located in the heart of the Qi Kingdom. The clouds and mist never dissipate, and from a distance, it looks like a giant sword piercing the earth and straight up to the sky.

This mountain is one of the few blessed lands in the State of Qi. Legend has it that Emperor Ku, one of the Five Emperors of ancient times, built a palace here in his later years to comprehend the great Dao of Heaven and Earth, hence the name Emperor's Peak.

After countless years, the imperial palaces have long since vanished into dust, but the spiritual veins of the mountains and rivers have become even more magnificent, eventually being occupied by Cihang Jingzhai and transformed into a sacred place for cultivation.

On this day, a streak of blue rainbow suddenly appeared on the horizon. At first, it was very thin, but in an instant it was close at hand. It was a strange beast, a rhinoceros, with its body covered in snow-white cloud patterns, its four hooves treading the wind, and its body surrounded by a faint spiritual light.

A Taoist priest sat atop the rhinoceros's back. He had a handsome face, a long, flowing beard, and wore a black Taoist robe, exuding an air of otherworldly elegance.

Looking up, Song Yi saw that the palaces on Emperor's Peak stretched out in a row, with jade pavilions and towers hidden among the green pines and cypresses. Occasionally, cultivators would ride their swords through the air, their sword light like rainbows, and fairies would ride white cranes to and fro in the mountains, their clothes fluttering, just like a fairyland.

Looking at the scene before him, Song Yi couldn't help but sigh inwardly, "What a blessed land of immortals!"

In comparison, although the Feathered Ascension Sect is recognized by Heaven and Earth and has the Taiqing lineage as its foundation, it has only been established for a short time and has only a little over a hundred disciples. Its foundation is far from comparable to that of a major sect with a history of hundreds or thousands of years.

Just then, two disciples guarding the mountain discovered his whereabouts.

One of the younger disciples stepped forward, cupped his hands, and shouted, "Who goes there? This is the sacred grounds of Cihang Jingzhai; unauthorized personnel are not permitted to enter!"

Song Yi said calmly, "I am Song Yi, the True Lord of Heaven who bestows calamities and delivers from suffering; I have come here today to seek an audience with the Immortal Master Fan Qinghui on important matters."

The two disciples were startled upon hearing this, for the name of the True Lord of Tribulation and Calamity had already spread throughout the Southern Continent over the years.

Especially within the State of Qi, it was a place of great religious activity and enjoyed a very high reputation.

The two dared not delay and quickly bowed. One of them rushed towards the depths of the mountain gate to report.

Not long after, a beam of clear light rose from the main hall at the summit and then drifted towards the mountain gate.

The light faded, revealing a Taoist nun dressed in a Bagua robe. She held a whisk in her hand and carried an ancient sword on her back. Her face was as beautiful as a peach blossom in March, yet her eyes and brows exuded an air of majesty.

The person who arrived was none other than Fan Qinghui, the current head of Cihang Jingzhai.

Song Yi dismounted from the rhinoceros's back, cupped his hands in a salute, and said, "Greetings, Immortal Master."

Fan Qinghui gently flicked her whisk and returned the greeting, her voice clear: "Greetings, True Lord."

After exchanging pleasantries, Fan Qinghui cut to the chase, asking, "What brings you here, True Lord?"

Song Yi straightened up and said with a smile, "I have a close friend who once had something that unfortunately ended up in your sect. I have come today to ask you to return it. If you would be so kind as to grant my request, I would be eternally grateful."

"Oh?" Fan Qinghui's eyebrows twitched slightly, but her expression remained unchanged. "I wonder what kind of magic treasure it is? True Lord, please speak freely."

"It is an imperial seal, which belonged to Jiang Ziya of the Chan Sect in the past!" Song Yi suppressed his smile and slowly uttered a few words.

Upon hearing this, Fan Qinghui's expression changed drastically, a cold glint flashed in her eyes, and she said in a deep voice, "True Lord, you are mistaken!"

"Our Cihang Jingzhai has always upheld the will of the sages and Heaven, educating all people. Now, wielding the Qi Kingdom's national seal, we do so to suppress the Qi Kingdom's fortune and prevent evil influences. This is the cycle of Heaven; True Lord, speak no more, and depart swiftly!"

Upon hearing this, Song Yi not only did not become angry, but instead laughed, a laugh tinged with mockery: "What a fine way to say you're upholding the will of the sages! However, I have a question in my mind: does your sect uphold the will of the Jade Purity Sage, or the will of the two Western Sages?"

Who in the world doesn't know that Cihang Jingzhai was founded by Cihang Daoren, one of the Twelve Golden Immortals of Yuxu, and is a true descendant of the Yuxu lineage?

However, after the Great Tribulation of the Investiture of the Gods, Cihang Daoren betrayed Chan Buddhism and joined the Western Sect.

As a result, the Cihang Jingzhai sect, which remained in the mortal realm, found itself in an extremely awkward position, neither truly accepted by the Yuxu Palace nor separated from the Western Religion by vast distances.

When Song Yi pointed it out to her face, Fan Qinghui's expression immediately turned extremely ugly, as if covered with a layer of frost.

The sword on her back emitted a long, clear sound, its sword intent surging forth, causing the surrounding air to distort slightly.

His gaze sharpened like lightning, and he said coldly, "If True Lord doesn't leave now, don't blame this humble Taoist for being rude!"

Song Yi showed no fear whatsoever, instead letting out a hearty laugh: "I've long heard that Cihang Jingzhai cultivates the Jade Purity Sword Dao, which is unparalleled in its sharpness. Today, I'll have to experience it for myself!"

Before he finished speaking, he flicked his sleeves and a long sword was already in his hand.

The sword was as thin as a cicada's wing, its entire body shimmering with a faint, cold light. Innate Dao patterns flowed faintly across its blade, revealing it to be a superior immortal sword forged by the original owner from innate iron through countless hammerings.

Fan Qinghui snorted coldly, made a sword gesture with her right hand, and the Mingkong Sword behind her was drawn with a clang.

The Mingkong Sword was the sword that Cihang Daoren used to carry with him. Its blade was as blue as the clear sky, and its sword intent was as vast as the might of heaven. It was even more powerful than ordinary innate spiritual treasures. As soon as it appeared, it caused the clouds in all directions to surge endlessly.

Two sword lights shot into the sky almost simultaneously.

The thin-winged sword in Song Yi's hand moved lightly and nimbly. The sword's momentum unfolded like a gentle breeze sweeping across the sky, neither fast nor slow, yet continuous and unending.

The sword intent contained a profound sense of returning to simplicity, not relying on brute force but on intention. Every thrust was perfectly timed, neither too much nor too little.

This is precisely the essence of the Taiqing lineage's swordsmanship: transcending emotions and following the natural way.

Fan Qinghui's Mingkong Sword is completely different.

The Jade Purity Sword Dao emphasizes uprightness and using power to suppress others, like the punishment of Heaven, which cannot be resisted.

With a single swing of her sword, the sword light surged a hundred feet, tearing through the sky with azure blue blade, carrying an overwhelming and unparalleled power as it slashed down at Song Yi.

The two exchanged blows, going back and forth for hundreds of moves in the blink of an eye.

Sword light crisscrossed, carving deep ravines into the plaza in front of the mountain gate, with rubble flying everywhere and spiritual energy surging like a raging tide.

The disciples of Cihang Jingzhai had already retreated far away. Those with lower cultivation levels were even so overwhelmed by the dissipating sword intent that their faces turned pale and they could not even stand steadily.

However, as the battle continued, Song Yi gradually felt the pressure.

Fan Qinghui's cultivation had already reached the late stage of Xuanxian, which was a whole realm higher than his. In addition, the Mingkong Sword was the sword of Cihang Daoren, and the Great Luo Sword Intent contained in the sword had not dissipated for thousands of years. Every time the swords clashed, Song Yi's Cicada Wing Sword would emit a mournful cry.

Finally, in a head-on clash, a crisp cracking sound echoed across the mountaintop. Song Yi's cicada-wing sword could no longer withstand the impact, and dense cracks appeared on its blade before it shattered into countless fragments that scattered across the sky.

Fan Qinghui's sword momentum continued unabated, while Mingkong Sword, carrying the incomparably sharp Yuqing sword intent, aimed straight for Song Yi's throat.