Wandering Swordsman |

He picked up a fallen leaf from the ground and continued, "Senior, please look at this fallen leaf. It seems to be drifting in the wind, but in fact it is in harmony with the rhythm of heaven and earth. The Wudang 'Ladder Cloud Leap' lightness skill requires martial artists to sense the changes in airflow like a fallen leaf, borrowing the power of heaven and earth rather than brute force." As he spoke, he turned his wrist slightly, and the fallen leaf slowly began to swirl in his palm.

Zhang Taixuan's hand, stroking his beard, suddenly stopped. He saw the fallen leaf spinning faster and faster in Shen Mo's palm, finally embedding itself into the trunk of a pine tree three zhang away with a "whoosh." Zhang Taixuan's pupils contracted slightly—this was clearly the essence of the Wudang Tai Chi martial art, "using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds," incorporated into the most ordinary fallen leaf.

"What a wonderful 'Falling Leaves Listening to the Wind'!" Zhang Taixuan suddenly burst into laughter, as if he had had a sudden enlightenment. "I have been the sect leader for decades, and only today do I understand what it means to 'see mountains as mountains'!" After saying this, Zhang Taixuan's Taoist robe fluttered without wind, and the fallen leaves within a three-zhang radius around him began to slowly rotate in a Tai Chi pattern.

Zhang Taixuan's laughter echoed through the valley, and the swirling fallen leaves suddenly froze in mid-air. Then, he slowly raised his right hand, and the withered leaves seemed to come alive, coalescing at his fingertips. Shen Mo's pupils dilated slightly—this was clearly the "Controlling Qi to Form Images" mentioned in the martial arts notes of the third-generation Wudang sect leader. According to the notes of the previous sect leader, this was a realm that no one in Wudang had mastered in the past hundred years.

"So that's how it is!" Zhang Taixuan's voice suddenly became ethereal: "Shen Mo, I have practiced martial arts for over eighty years. Why don't we have a chat?" After saying that, he pointed his fingers as a sword, and the falling leaves instantly turned into streams of light, carving the four powerful characters "Dao Fa Zi Ran" on the cliff face beside him.

At that moment, a mountain wind suddenly rose, causing Shen Mo's robes and Zhang Taixuan's Taoist robe to flutter simultaneously. The two exchanged a smile. Just then, the evening drum sounded outside the forbidden area, startling a flock of cranes across the mountain. The sound of their flapping wings mingled with the evening glow, creating a natural Taoist melody in the valley.

At this moment, Master Zhang anxiously appeared in the forbidden area. When he saw Shen Mo and his senior brother, the sect leader, sitting on the ground discussing something, he curiously stepped forward. Master Zhang was greatly surprised by their conversation. Shen Mo was actually discussing martial arts with his senior brother, and his senior brother was completely absorbed in it. Could it be that Shen Mo's understanding of martial arts had reached the level of the Wudang sect leader?

Master Zhang coughed lightly, interrupting the two's discussion: "Sect Leader, Shen Mo, it's getting late, we should go back for dinner."

Zhang Taixuan suddenly looked up and saw the last rays of the setting sun being swallowed by the twilight. He couldn't help but smile bitterly: "Ah, I've forgotten the time."

He looked at Shen Mo, his eyes filled with lingering interest: "Shen Mo, how about we continue our discussion tomorrow at Chenshi (7-9 AM)?" Suddenly, Zhang Taixuan's expression turned serious, and he said solemnly, "By the way, I have a favor to ask. Although we are of vastly different ages, our understanding of martial arts transcends age. How about we become friends despite the age gap and address each other as equals?"

Shen Mo's heart skipped a beat. If he were to treat the sect leader as an equal, then Zhang Ye would be his junior disciple, and third-generation disciples would have to address him as their grandmaster. He quickly cupped his hands in greeting: "Sect Leader, your kindness is too much for me. Wudang's etiquette is very strict, and such a gesture might be inappropriate..."

Zhang Taixuan waved his hand to interrupt, saying, "In martial arts, those who have mastered it come first. What you have said today has already scratched the surface of Tai Chi. With such attainments, you deserve to be my equal."

Shen Mo felt the sincerity in Zhang Taixuan's words, and a warm feeling welled up in his heart. He finally nodded and said, "Since the sect leader values ​​it so much, this junior is willing to accept."

Zhang Taixuan's eyes shone brightly, clearly pleased. "Although I am the sect leader, I am willing to exchange hearts and minds with Brother Shen to explore the path of martial arts together!"

Master Zhang stood to the side, his fingers unconsciously gripping the hilt of his sword. Looking at Shen Mo's expression, he suddenly realized that Shen Mo's talent was so extraordinary that even in the entire martial arts world, he could be considered a prodigy.

As Shen Mo gazed at Zhang Taixuan's sincere figure, Zhang Ye's young face instantly flashed into his mind—if he were of the same generation as the sect leader, wouldn't Zhang Ye have to call him "Uncle-Master"? Even more terrifying, the third-generation disciples of Wudang would probably have to respectfully address him as "Grandmaster"!

Then Zhang Taixuan said to Zhang Zhenren, "Junior brother, what do you think of me becoming friends with Shen Mo despite our age difference?" Zhang Zhenren looked at Shen Mo, then noticed the unusual fervor in Zhang Taixuan's eyes, and finally sighed, "Since it is the sect leader's wish, I will naturally comply."

Over the next few days, Shen Mo and Zhang Taixuan, the leader of Wudang, spent their days in the Zixiao Palace, continuing to discuss the insights and experiences of successive leaders and elders of Wudang.

Meanwhile, the true disciples within the Wudang Sect gradually began to address Shen Mo as "Uncle-Master." Initially, this change made Shen Mo feel quite awkward, especially when facing Zhang Ye, the eldest true disciple who might become the future leader of the Wudang Sect.

One morning, in the training ground, Zhang Ye took the initiative to walk up to Shen Mo and respectfully bowed, saying, "Uncle-Master." His voice was steady and sincere, and his eyes were full of respect.

Shen Mo was taken aback for a moment, then returned the greeting, saying, "Brother Zhang, there's no need to be so polite. Let's address each other as brothers."

However, Zhang Ye shook his head and said seriously, "Uncle-Master, you and the Sect Leader have formed a close friendship despite the age difference. As peers, you are naturally a generation older than me. Therefore, it is not inappropriate to call you 'Uncle-Master'."

Hearing this, Shen Mo felt a mix of emotions. He knew that since Zhang Taixuan had publicly declared himself an equal, then according to the rules of the martial arts world, he should indeed accept this respect. So, he sighed softly and accepted this new identity.

As time went on, not only Zhang Ye, but also other third-generation Wudang disciples began to respectfully address Shen Mo as "Grandmaster." Whenever he heard this title, Shen Mo would feel a strange pressure, but at the same time he realized that this was not only recognition of him personally, but also an affirmation of his status in Wudang.

......

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, it's already the day of the Wudang Temple Fair.

The morning sun shone on the summit of Wudang Mountain, casting a golden glow upon it. Martial arts practitioners from all over the world gathered here, with the leaders of major sects such as Huashan, Qingcheng, Emei, Kunlun, and Diancang all present, creating a lively and extraordinary scene.

Colorful flags fluttered and drums resounded in the square in front of the mountain gate, filling the air with a rich festive atmosphere. Stalls lined the square, selling weapons, medicinal herbs, and displaying all sorts of rare and precious treasures, a dazzling array of goods.

The crowd thronged, filled with laughter and chatter. Children living at the foot of Wudang Mountain ran through the crowd, sugar figurines in hand, their faces beaming with innocent smiles. In the distance, on the arena, red curtains fluttered gently in the wind, adding to the solemn atmosphere.

Disciples from various sects, dressed in neat uniforms, stood in their respective positions, their eyes revealing tension and anticipation, as if a fierce competition was about to unfold. The audience's gazes were also fixed on the arena, awaiting the start of the duel.