Wandering Swordsman |

Then the news spread like wildfire, and neighbors, vendors, and even farmers from outside the city flocked to the scene.

Some people stood on tiptoe to peek in, some whispered among themselves, and some bolder ones even peeked through the crack in the door.

"Look! That's the Sword God! He truly has an extraordinary presence!"

"Those two young ladies over there are truly angels descended from heaven! No wonder they're worthy of the Sword God!"

"Oh dear, my grandson is learning martial arts at a martial arts school, doesn't that mean he's the Sword God's junior brother?!"

The crowd grew larger and larger, the noise deafening. Even the disciples practicing their swordsmanship lost their focus and kept looking back. The once quiet martial arts school had become as bustling as a marketplace.

Shen Mo stood under the eaves, looking at the crowd of people outside the door, and was at a loss for words, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

He never imagined that his name could cause such a commotion.

Is it possible for the mere mention of the name "Shen Mo" to set an entire city ablaze?

"My lord, they... they've all come to see you," Murong Qing said softly, her eyes filled with both pride and a hint of helplessness.

Situ Meng frowned: "This kind of disturbance to the people is not good."

Just as the chaos was escalating, a series of orderly hoofbeats approached from afar.

A troop of soldiers in armor marched in, led by a man in a scarlet official robe with a silver fish-shaped pouch at his waist. He was none other than Li Chongyi, the prefect of Mengzhou.

When the common people saw the officials, they immediately fell silent and retreated. The officials and soldiers quickly separated and set up a cordon, dispersing all the onlookers.

In a short while, the area in front of the martial arts school returned to quiet.

Luo Wangchen frowned, puzzled: When did his little martial arts school attract the attention of the governor? Could it be that his disciple had caused trouble?

But the next moment, he was dumbfounded.

The prefect, Li Chongyi, ordered the door to be opened. After entering the martial arts hall, he quickly stepped forward and knelt down before Shen Mo with a thud, kowtowing and loudly proclaiming, "Your humble servant, Li Chongyi, prefect of Mengzhou, pays respects to the Duke of Huguo! I was unaware of your arrival in Mengzhou; it was truly my dereliction of duty, and I deserve to die!"

The moment the words "Duke Protector of the Nation" were uttered, it was like a thunderclap!

Luo Wangchen was shocked and could hardly believe his ears.

Although he knew that Shen Mo was famous throughout the martial arts world as the "Sword God," he was unaware that the imperial court had already bestowed upon him the title of "Duke Protector of the Nation"! This was a super-rank title, equivalent to a prince! No wonder even the governor of a prefecture had to kneel before him!

Shen Mo quickly stepped forward to help Li Chongyi up, speaking humbly, "Lord Li, there's no need for such formality. I'm merely passing through to visit my mentor; it's not an official trip."

Li Chongyi rose, his attitude becoming even more respectful, beads of sweat still clinging to his forehead: "Your Excellency, I am deeply grateful for your compassion! I have prepared a superior room and banquet at the most luxurious restaurant in the city. Please, Your Excellency, come and join me in my hospitality!"

Shen Mo shook his head and smiled: "Thank you for your kindness, sir, but there's no need. I can stay at my master's martial arts school; it's quiet and comfortable there. We'll be setting off in two days, so there's no need to trouble anyone."

"Yes! I will follow the Duke's orders!" Li Chongyi replied immediately, then added, "I have ordered soldiers to stand guard outside to ensure the safety of the martial arts school. If the Duke needs anything, he only needs to send a message, and I will come immediately!"

Having said that, he turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and bowed deeply to Luo Wangchen: "Mr. Luo! If the martial arts school has any needs in the future—whether it's repairing buildings, purchasing equipment, or students taking exams, weddings, or funerals—just send someone to the government office to find me! I will personally oversee it!"

This bow was extremely humble, almost obsequious. But Luo Wangchen understood that it wasn't directed at him, but rather that after learning of Shen Mo's identity as Shen Mo's master, the reverence he felt for Shen Mo extended to him.

After the governor left, Luo Wangchen stood there for a long time, watching the departing official sedan chair, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

He initially came to this small Mengzhou to open a martial arts school, hoping to escape the turmoil of the martial world and find peace. But today, because of his disciple's use of the word "Master," he has been drawn into this overwhelming power.

Shen Mo walked to his side and said softly, "Master, you don't need to worry. No one dares to tarnish your reputation. I just want them to know—you are my master."

Luo Wangchen turned his head and looked at the boy who had once begged in the small town. Now he was the Duke of Huguo, who held power over the world and was famous throughout the land, yet he still treated him with the respect due to a disciple, and his eyes were filled with sincerity.

He patted Shen Mo's shoulder heavily, his voice hoarse: "Your teacher... is proud of you."

......

Over the next two days, the "Wangchen Martial Arts School" in the east of Mengzhou City seemed to be infused with an invisible spiritual energy.

As the first rays of dawn shone, three figures were already reflected on the bluestone slabs in the courtyard—Shen Mo stood in the center in a black robe, while Situ Meng and Murong Qing sat quietly under the eaves, like two lotus flowers blooming side by side, pure and elegant.

The dozen or so young disciples, on the other hand, were all in high spirits, their eyes shining with an unprecedented light.

They knew that this might be the only time in their lives they would have the opportunity to hear the "Sword God's" teachings in person.

Shen Mo did not adopt an arrogant attitude; instead, he was patient and meticulous, just as Luo Wangchen had taught him back then.

He stood in the center of the martial arts arena, casually picked up a wooden sword, and made a light stroke. The movement seemed slow, but it was as if there was wind and thunder hidden within it.

Before the sword tip even arrived, the sword intent was already there; the leaves of the paulownia trees in the courtyard moved without any wind, rustling softly.

"Watch closely—power originates from the ground, the waist is the axis, shoulders are relaxed and wrists are flexible, and the intention precedes the sword." He demonstrated and broke it down as he spoke. "When you drew your swords just now, your shoulders were too tense, and your energy was floating in your chest, so your power was scattered. If you can sink your shoulders and drop your elbows, and let your energy sink to your dantian, even the simplest 'thrust' can pierce armor and stone."

A disciple tried to imitate it, so Shen Mo stepped forward and gently straightened his wrist: "Lower it by three points here, yes, that's it."

The young man trembled, feeling a warm, nourishing internal energy flow from Shen Mo's fingertips into his meridians, instantly opening the three Yang meridians of his hand, making his entire arm feel as warm as spring water. He was so excited he almost cried—this was the personal guidance of the "Sword God"!

Another disciple mustered his courage and asked, "Senior brother...we are of mediocre talent, is there still a chance for us to become true heroes?"

Upon hearing this, Shen Mo's gaze softened like the moon: "The greatest heroes are those who serve their country and its people. It's not about how high your martial arts skills are, but how righteous your heart is. If you help a child who has fallen today, or if you stand up against a bully who harasses the weak tomorrow, then you are a true hero."

These words silenced the entire room. Those youths who had previously only dreamed of mastering extraordinary skills and making a name for themselves suddenly understood the true meaning of martial arts. Their gazes toward Shen Mo were no longer merely filled with admiration, but also with respect and longing.

For the past two days, Shen Mo taught swordsmanship every morning, played chess and drank tea with Luo Wangchen in the afternoon, and strolled along the Mengzhou River with his two wives in the evening.

Although he taught the basics, every word was precious, and every sentence subtly reflected the profound principles of the "Divine Martial Return to Truth Technique," but he simplified the complex and conveyed it to these beginners in the simplest way.

The disciples were all filled with excitement and pride. They whispered to each other, their eyes shining: "From now on, if anyone asks about my master, I can proudly say—'Sword God Shen Mo is my senior brother!'"

Even more extreme, some secretly wrote down every word Shen Mo taught them on paper, kept it in their bosoms, and treasured it, vowing to pass it down from generation to generation.