Sword of Coming

Chapter 202: All Four Seasons in the World Will Be Pretty

Chapter 202: All Four Seasons in the World Will Be Pretty

For the past two days of training, the disheveled old man's attacks had become increasingly intense. Even though he no longer ordered Chen Ping'an to skin himself and sever his own tendons, he still used the Deity Drumming Technique to punch the young boy again and again, with each punch dealing more damage than the last. Chen Ping'an was genuinely pummeled to the verge of collapse.

Outside the bamboo building, the little girl in pink was absent-mindedly eating sunflower seeds. Her lips were already split, yet she was still completely unaware of this. As for the little boy in azure, he was silently cultivating by the cliff with a solemn expression. Not only was he relying on his innately powerful physical constitution to digest the high-quality snake gall pebble in his stomach, but he was also trying his best to concentrate and not be disturbed by the harrowing scenes inside the bamboo building.

In fact, little did the water snake from the Imperial River know that this was in fact a grand fated opportunity to cultivate both his body and his mind. Not only could he nurture his Qi, but he could also temper his Qi. Inside his body, it was as if powerful waves were slamming into large pillars that stood amid rivers. This was an extremely rare opportunity.

The little girl in pink would feel uneasy at times, and whenever this happened, she would reach over to run her hands over the bamboo building. Even though the characters that Li Xisheng had written on the bamboo walls weren't visible anymore, she had already committed all of them to memory. She remembered all of the characters, and she even remembered all of the character strokes.

Whenever she felt like she couldn't bear listening to the agonized howls of her master or the sound of him smashing into the walls, she would force herself to recite the poems and essays that had been written on the bamboo walls.

This was also a form of cultivation.

In terms of snake gall pebbles, it was naturally the case that the more the better. This was a treasure that all of the flood dragons and their ilk dreamed of obtaining. However, this treasure also adhered to the hidden notion of "one, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand".

Wei Bo had revealed a secret regarding this before, and he had explained a concept to the two little children. After eating the first high-quality snake gall pebble, it would take impure flood dragon descendants approximately one year to digest it. The little girl in pink — a fire python — had a weaker physical constitution, so it would take her even longer. Perhaps it would take her 13 to 14 months. However, the little boy in azure had a stronger physical constitution, so it would only take him a little over half a year.

Digesting the second high-quality snake gall pebble wouldn't be as easy. It would take them 10 years of hard work to properly digest. As for the third one, it would take them 100 years and slow and steady work to gradually chip away at it. For the fourth one, they would need to endure for a lengthy 1000 years. And for the fifth one, it would take them a whopping 10,000 years!

Thus, it was already insignificant and meaningless whether they could obtain a fifth high-quality snake gall pebble or not. After all, this couldn't even be regarded as icing on the cake. At most, it could only be considered a precious collectible in their treasure chamber.

It was because of this that the little boy in azure had started to covet ordinary snake gall pebbles instead after obtaining three high-quality snake gall pebbles. Ordinary snake gall pebbles couldn't guarantee him a cultivation breakthrough, but they could certainly help him accumulate 10 years' worth of cultivation at a time. As such, his cultivation base would gradually become more and more powerful. To improve his cultivation while eating... Was this not incredible?

Back then, the little boy in azure had dreamed about lying down like a wealthy individual to enjoy his fortunes. He would sunbake every day, and his cultivation base would continue to rise as he mucked around and enjoyed the scenery. How relaxing and satisfying!

However, everything changed after Chen Ping'an started to train with the disheveled old man. The little boy in azure changed his thinking, and he began to cultivate in earnest in stark contrast to before. In fact, the water snake from the Imperial River was relatively simple-minded, and his thoughts were relatively simple. He was tired of coming across people who could smash him to death with a single punch, and he didn't want his cultivation base to be overtaken by the country bumpkin Chen Ping'an either. After all, just how embarrassing would that be?

The heaven was big and the earth was big, but the face of the gallant heroes in the cultivation world was the biggest!

Inside the bamboo building, the barefoot old man crossed his arms and peered down at Chen Ping’an curled up on the floor. Chen Ping'an was aching with pain, and popping sounds were coming from all over his body as if popcorn were being made. Just then, the disheveled old man had thrown 28 punches using the Deity Drumming Technique and struck the same number of acupoints on Chen Ping'an's body. This was brutal punishment, and it left Chen Ping'an in his current state of abject misery where he was only hanging on by a single breath.

"It was only 28 punches, yet you're already acting as if you're dead," the old man sneered in a cold voice. "How unsightly! If you can't endure 30 punches, then you can't be regarded as the most powerful third tier martial artist in the world!"

Chen Ping'an was drenched in blood, and such was his exhaustion that he was in no state to answer. He had breathed using the technique that Old Man Yang had taught him, he had channeled the fire-dragon-esque True Qi in his body, and he had utilized the Eighteen Stops technique that A'Liang had claimed was gradually created and refined by countless sword immortals. He had channeled all three of these things in unison, yet he had only been able to just barely endure the disheveled old man's 28 powerful punches.

The old man lashed out with a kick and struck Chen Ping'an in the back, sending him slamming into the wall before crashing back down onto the floor. Chen Ping'an had almost stabilized his sea of Qi already, yet the old man's sudden kick rendered all of his previous work for naught. His Qi became chaotic again, and he convulsed on the floor as if he were suffering epileptic shock.

The old man roared with laughter and said, "What should a pure martial artist rely on if they want to stand at the peak of the cultivation world? They need to rely on their ability to hold in a breath of Qi! They need to use this breath of Qi to grind to death those Qi refiners who can wantonly draw spiritual energy from the environment! If you lose your ability to hold in your breath of Qi and fight after suffering such measly pain, then what do you plan to do afterward? Hide in a corner to recuperate and replenish your Qi? Will your opponent afford you this opportunity? So, the breath of Qi that you've accumulated is still far from enough!"

Measly pain...

Face caked with blood, Chen Ping'an was unable to say anything to retort the disheveled old man.

The old man was speaking in a vicious manner, and he was going to extreme lengths to verbally torment the young boy. However, if a martial arts grandmaster who had fought against the disheveled old man were present, or if a cultivator from the mountains who had been wounded by or killed by him were present, they would definitely be filled with shock and disbelief. Apart from being profoundly masterful at fist techniques, the old man was also well-renowned for having incredibly high standards.

At his peak, he had been the only 10th tier martial artist in Eastern Treasured Vial Continent. At that time, he had relied on his physical body and fists alone to sweep through three entire continents! Before throwing punches, the old man wouldn't introduce himself and tell his opponent his name. After throwing punches, the old man wouldn't reveal his identity either. He would come and go like a swift breeze.

He would immediately leave after a fight, and if he accidentally killed someone, that unfortunate person's descendants and disciples would be free to seek him out and exact revenge if they had the courage and power. What did it matter if dozens or hundreds of them surrounded him and attacked him? What did it matter if they used all kinds of immortal treasures and employed all kinds of schemes? He would block everything with his two fists!

At that time, the cultivators in the three continents had only known that this eccentric and nameless martial artist of profound power would seldom show respect to defeated opponents. In fact, the old man wouldn't treat his opponent with respect and seriousness even if they were evenly matched. He had displayed even less interest in taking a disciple.

There were many mystical qualities about the bamboo building in Downtrodden Mountain, and this had allowed the old ancestor of the Cui Clan to remain clear-headed for two hours every day. Now that he was slowly recovering and returning to his peak, he could remain clear-headed for approximately half a day at a time.

After plummeting from his lofty peak into a deep abyss, the disheveled old man, who was Imperial Preceptor Cui Chan's grandfather, had already lost all feelings of goodwill toward his clan. Because of a matter pertaining to his grandson back then, he had been deeply saddened and hurt by those wretched descendants who had ingratiated themselves with the rich and powerful. Thus, he no longer felt connected to them, not even in a familial sense.

Now that he had arrived at Downtrodden Mountain, he would stay in the bamboo building every day and occasionally gaze at the distant mountains and rivers from the balcony of the second floor. The disheveled old man started to like this place, and this wasn't simply because of the bamboo building being a blessed land that could calm his mind.

Wei Bo arrived in front of the bamboo building just in time to hear the disheveled old man roar in fury, "Chen Ping'an, why the hell are you lying sprawled on the floor?! If you can't stand up, then crawl up!

"After traveling far and wide, and after killing and wounding countless people, do you know who the only person that I respect is?

"It's an eighth tier martial artist whose name I've already forgotten. I stepped on his face when he was on the brink of death, and before he died, he mustered all of his remaining strength to throw one last punch at me. Even though his punch was weaker than that of an infant or woman, that was a punch that everyone in the world needs to respect, regardless of whether they're a 10th tier martial artist or a legendary 11th tier martial god!

"That punch encapsulated the true will of martial artists!"

A series of thumps and cracks rang out again. It was clear that after struggling hard to finally stand up, Chen Ping'an was being pummeled and rag-dolled around the room again.

"Chen Ping'an, again! This kind of measly pain is nothing! If you're a man, then stand up and face my fists..."

The disheveled old man fell silent for a moment before flaring up in anger. He started to curse, and many of his insults were in fact learned from the young boy from Clay Vase Alley.

As it turned out, Chen Ping'an's heart strings had almost snapped.

Taking things too far was just as bad as not taking things far enough.

Chen Ping'an had been unwilling to back down, so not only had he forcefully endured using his breath of Qi, but he had even subconsciously channeled his mystical and intangible heart's Qi. He had been sent flying by the disheveled old man afterward, and his heart's Qi had been deflated along with his normal breath of Qi. He was genuinely teetering on the brink of death now. After training with the old man for so many days, this was the first time that they had encountered an unexpected accident.

The old man continued to curse, yet he had already squatted down and hurriedly placed a palm on the young boy's chest. He looked down at the young boy's tanned face that was twisted in agony, and he looked at the young boy's hand that was tightly clenched into a fist above his chest. This was a purely instinctive action.

The disheveled old man extended his other hand and lightly wrapped it around Chen Ping'an's fist, which was so injured that bone was visible. A rare smile of kindness and care spread across his face, and he softly chuckled, "Not bad, young lad. Your actual attacks are in a low-level but solid place, your fist intent is in an intangible and lofty place, and your fist technique is in the depths of your heart. You've already set foot on the true path of martial arts."

It was hard to tell whether Chen Ping'an was dreaming or dazed at this moment, but he started to murmur curses and insults.

The old man faltered for a moment, and he smiled instead of getting angry. "Stinky brat."

————

The next day, Chen Ping'an forcefully endured 29 punches before falling unconscious.

After regaining consciousness, the first thing that Chen Ping'an did was walk up to the second floor of the bamboo building with great difficulty. "Will I be killed by your 30 punches next time?" he asked.

"No," the disheveled old man opened his eyes and replied.

Chen Ping'an stood under the eaves on the second floor and started to curse. Gu Can's mother had once been regarded as the most notoriously skilled trash talker in the small town. In fact, even Apricot Blossom Alley's Granny Ma had been forced to go home to reflect on the lesson learned time and time again. After learning these lessons, however, she had still been defeated again and again. As someone who had often watched these battles, Chen Ping'an was naturally very skilled at cursing and trash-talking if he genuinely let loose as well.

He would definitely have no opportunity to curse or trash talk during training tomorrow.

Thus, he would curse to his heart's content today.

In any case, he would suffer his fair share of hardships and unfair share of punishment. Moreover, it wasn't like the disheveled old man would truly beat him to death, so what was there to be afraid of?

If he didn't let loose, Chen Ping'an felt like he would genuinely stifle himself to death. However, to stifle himself to death before he had learned anything significant in terms of fist techniques? He couldn't accept this!

The disheveled old man paid no heed to this.

In reality, this was for the better.

Because this was in fact one of the most significant aspects of the training.

The young boy from Clay Vase Alley had accumulated far too many impurities in terms of his emotions, and it was as if Chen Ping'an had swept all of the trash to one corner of the room. There wasn't much, and it wouldn't be enough to affect his mental state. After all, this trash was out of sight and out of mind. However, once he started to climb up the cultivation tiers of martial arts, these seemingly insignificant impurities would be continually magnified.

While Chen Ping'an was still at the second and third tier of martial arts, the disheveled old man could remove these impurities with relative ease by tempering him with all kinds of fist techniques and mystical abilities. If Chen Ping'an were at the critical door threshold between the sixth and seventh tier, or if he were standing in front of the gulf between the ninth and tenth tier, then it would be unfathomably difficult to turn around and attempt to sweep away these impurities.

However, the disheveled old man was no Bodhisattva, so how could he tolerate Chen Ping'an's relentless barrage of curses and trash talk? "Piss off! If you utter another word, then I'll beat you to death right now!" he roared in anger.

Chen Ping'an chuckled happily and walked away in deep satisfaction.

Meanwhile, the disheveled old man smiled and scolded, "He's truly similar to Cui Chan when he was little."

The old man's expression became slightly adrift after he said this.

When Cui Chan was little, had he, as a grandfather, been too strict and ruthless? Had he detrimentally impacted Cui Chan due to putting too much pressure on him?

The third sage of Confucianism had once said these wise words, "At the beginning of life, one is naturally good in nature. Human nature is alike, and it is habits that make them different.[1]"

The disheveled old man sighed.

He had personally been involved in that heart-stopping battle between the third and fourth sages of Confucianism. As for the result? He had been reduced to his current state. In fact, things had only stopped at this thanks to the fact that he hadn't been too involved.

He had traveled to a nameless mountain one time, and he had coincidentally come across an elder in Confucian robes enjoying the sunrise and strolling along the mountain peak. The elder had been slowly loosening his body up, and it was as if he had been walking in circles. However, with the observation skills of a 10th tier martial artist, the old ancestor of the Cui Clan had realized that the elderly scholar wasn't simply walking in circles in the same spot. Instead, he had been shifting slightly outward with each circle that he walked.

At that time, he had asked in curiosity, "Old mister, why don't you walk away in a straight line?"

The elder in Confucian robes had smiled faintly and replied, "That will be against the rules, so I certainly can't do that."

Afterward, they had enjoyed a hearty conversation about all matters in the world. After that, however, the old ancestor of the Cui Clan had never seen the elderly scholar again.

————

Before training the next day, the disheveled old man smiled at Chen Ping'an and said, "Since you've already stabilized your third tier cultivation, then let's continue and temper your fourth tier martial arts cultivation as well. It won't hurt to delay your trip by a few days."

Chen Ping'an shook his head and didn't say anything. Once Master Ruan finished forging the sword, he would immediately set off on his long journey.

However, the disheveled old man continued to tempt Chen Ping'an, saying, "Why was Sun Shujian, who was at the peak stage of the sixth tier, killed by my punch that I unleashed using the power of a fifth tier cultivator? This is because even at the same cultivation tier, there can still be a huge gulf between people. Thus, even though I practice martial arts, which supposedly makes it difficult to kill people above one's tier, I still managed to kill the stronger Sun Shujian with ease. It was because his foundation was too weak.

"Take the imperial examination, for example. After progressing to the final examination, why do some people become incredibly noble Zhuangyuan and Tanhua[2], while others can only become Jinshi[3]? In fact, some of them even become pitiable pseudo-Jinshi. The emperor's audience hall can be viewed as a tier, yet inside this tier, there's still a distinction between the top level, middle level, and bottom level.

"Chen Ping'an, you have to realize that there exists a huge gulf between the third tier and fourth tier of martial arts. This gulf is similar to the huge gulf that lies between the final tier of the Lower Five Tiers and the first tier of the Middle Five Tiers for Qi refiners. In terms of the difference between having my help and not having my help... You've experienced some hardship already, so you should be well aware of the benefits. If you can push forward and advance to the fourth tier, then your martial arts journey in this tier will become a smooth sailing one. Is this not good?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head without any hesitation.

Since Old Man Yang had told him to leave as soon as possible, and to immediately leave the mountains and head south after receiving the sword, Chen Ping'an definitely wouldn't delay things for even 15 minutes.

Deep inside his heart, Chen Ping'an also felt a slight sense of apprehension toward the training regimen above the third tier. He would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't scared.

The disheveled old man nodded and said, "Being able to resist temptation is also a good thing. Just like Sun Shujian, countless cultivators of decent talent have died an early death. Many of them died because of greed. So, let me make an exception and give you a reward today. I'll punch you 31 times instead of 30 times. Rest assured, I guarantee that you won't die. You don't need to cry tears of gratitude and profusely thank me for helping you stabilize your third tier cultivation base. After all, who told you to be Chanchan's teacher..."

The disheveled old man appeared amiable on the surface, yet how could Chen Ping'an not notice the seething killing intent and chilly aura behind his words?

He had felt extremely satisfied after cursing and trash-talking the old man yesterday, so was he going to suffer the consequences now?

After enduring 31 punches, Chen Ping'an slept in the tub of medicinal water for one entire day before sleeping in bed for one entire night. This was the first time he had slept for so long after training.

Dawn arrived, and Chen Ping'an walked out of the bamboo building, only to see Wei Bo and the two little children sitting under the eaves.

After seeing Chen Ping'an, Wei Bo looked up with a beaming smile before cupping his fists and saying, "Congratulations!"

Chen Ping'an returned the gesture and said with a bitter smile, "I'm not sure where to begin..."

The little girl in pink offered her chair to Chen Ping'an. After he sat down, Wei Bo lowered his voice and revealed, "Ruan Qiong is going to finish forging the sword these two days. When I was chatting with the small water snake before, I heard him say that you wanted to buy a Sword Nurturing Gourd.

"So, I took this matter into my own hands, and I made a transaction regarding the presents that the imperial court of the Great Li Empire would give with each mountain. I gave up the five immortal treasures for you, and I asked for a Sword Nurturing Gourd instead. Chen Ping'an, if you feel like this wasn't worth it, then we can trade the Sword Nurturing Gourd back for the five immortal treasures instead."

The little girl in pink and the little boy in azure both gestured to Chen Ping'an with their eyes, telling him not to do anything stupid and decide to give up the Sword Nurturing Gourd.

Chen Ping'an smiled and replied, "I naturally only want the Sword Nurturing Gourd."

Wei Bo laughed heartily, and he casually flicked his sleeve and retrieved an exquisite red gourd.

This gourd was slightly smaller than A'Liang's silver gourd, and it had a warm and olden-style appearance that made it very likable.

Chen Ping'an's face was filled with delight as he carefully accepted the small red gourd. He opened his eyes wide, and he leaned closer to carefully inspect the gourd.

Wei Bo smiled and explained, "This Sword Nurturing Gourd can only be considered a medium-grade gourd, and it can't be regarded as a genuine divine artifact. However, even these gourds are already very rare and very difficult to obtain. After all, this is Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, and it can't compare to Complete Reed Continent, which is full of sword cultivators. However, even in Complete Reed Continent, this small Sword Nurturing Gourd would still be coveted by many sword cultivators at the Middle Five Tiers."

Wei Bo pointed at the bottom of the small gourd and said, "The characters on the bottom are 'Jiang Hu', and this is a homonym with the term for the cultivation world [4]. It's fairly interesting. Moreover, this is most likely a precious relic left by some sword cultivator with the surname Jiang, hence the choice of characters engraved on the bottom. Do you like it?"

There was an elated smile on Chen Ping'an's face, and he hurriedly replied, "I like it, I like it! How can I not like it? It's a Sword Nurturing Gourd!"

The little girl in pink covered her mouth and giggled. Meanwhile, the little boy in azure rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead.

Alrighty then, so Master still understands the value of things, and he's aware of the exorbitant value of Sword Nurturing Gourds. It's because of this that he's so delighted. It's genuinely impossible for Master to change his miserly nature.

"Can it hold wine?" Chen Ping'an suddenly asked.

Wei Bo nodded and replied with a smile, "Naturally. It can hold several liters of wine without problem, and this won't affect its ability to nurture a flying sword. However, you must remember that you can't nurture flying swords with opposing intents inside the Sword Nurturing Gourd. There's no notion of the more the better either, and this will instead affect the progress of nurturing the swords. It's best that you nurture two or three swords in it..."

Wei Bo suddenly smiled in a self-deprecating manner after saying this, and he chuckled, "Being able to nurture two flying swords at once is already frightening enough. To say nothing of the fated opportunity needed to obtain high-grade flying swords, just how much wealth will be required to nurture them?"

Chen Ping'an silently committed this to memory.

With a whoosh, two flying swords then soared out from his acupoints, one after another. There was First, whose original name was Little Capital, and there was also Fifteenth, the emerald green flying sword that Old Man Yang had given him. The two flying swords disappeared into the exquisite red Sword Nurturing Gourd in a flash. They were seemingly very happy and energetic at this moment, and they were flying around everywhere and continually hitting the walls of the Sword Nurturing Gourd. This caused the small gourd to gently shake in Chen Ping'an's hand.

Wei Bo's eyes widened in astonishment. He felt extremely embarrassed, and he could only shake his head and say, "Alright...well...just pretend I didn't say anything."

The little boy in azure felt a sense of shared pride, and he humphed, "Do you understand the immense wealth of my master now?"

Wei Bo didn't argue with the small water snake, and he chuckled, "Yes, I understand."

In the end, he smiled and added, "Oh, that's right, I've filled the gourd with wine already. With your capacity for alcohol, you can drink to your heart's content."

After Wei Bo left, Chen Ping'an grabbed a bamboo chair and went to sit down in front of the cliff by himself. He sat there and took small sips of wine.

The little girl in pink wanted to follow him, yet the little boy in azure grabbed her arm and stopped her from walking over. He shook his head and told her not to go over.

Chen Ping'an comfortably leaned back into the bamboo chair and stretched his legs. The small gourd, which he was using as a wine flask for the moment, was resting in his hands. After taking a few sips of wine, he could already feel a searing heat on his cheeks and a burning sensation in his throat. His entire body became warm.

Chen Ping'an gazed toward the distant south, and there was a look of yearning in his eyes.

It was as if the mountains and rivers there would be the cultivation world, the jianghu, as per the homonymic name of his Sword Nurturing Gourd.

This was a life that Chen Ping'an had never imagined before.

Being able to live, and being able to live well... This is truly great.

————

After Chen Ping'an's parents passed away, the orphan from Clay Vase Alley suffered the greatest hardships imaginable from five to seven years old.

There were times when he was so hungry that it felt like his intestines were tying knots around themselves. At these times, he genuinely wanted to dig up clay to eat. During mealtimes, wisps of smoke rose from all of the neighboring houses, and even as the young orphan had walked along the alley, he was still able to smell the alluring fragrance of food. His clothes were all old clothes left by his parents, and he had cut them up and tailored them to suit his own small body. However, he hadn't thrown any of the offcuts out, and he had slowly saved them up piece by piece.

The first time the little boy had eaten someone else's food was when he had exhausted all of his own food and money. He had already sold everything he could. He was six years old at the time, and it was a cold winter month when it was impossible to enter the mountains to collect herbs and earn money. There had been no way for him to make a living, yet he wasn't willing to steal from others either.

Hunger and cold had attacked him, and he had been like a lone ghost as he had wandered from one side of the alley to the other. He had wandered around all the way until nighttime when wisps of smoke had started to rise from the neighboring houses. Upon seeing this, the little boy had felt complete and utter helplessness regarding how he would survive in the future.

Before this day, some kind-hearted people had occasionally invited Little Ping'an to their house to have a meal. However, the little boy had always smiled and said that there was still rice at home. He would then hurriedly run away.

That day, however, the little boy had genuinely run out of everything. He had gone to the Yang Family's medicine shop in the morning, and he had wanted to borrow some money from the old man. However, Old Man Yang had refused to see him.

When dusk arrived, the little boy had thought to himself with an upset expression, would someone perhaps smile and invite him to their house for a meal when they saw him?

However, no one had opened their door for him on that day. There had been joyous laughs behind the tightly shut doors, and there had also been angry curses behind the tightly shut doors.

In the end, the little boy had returned to his courtyard with an empty and growling stomach. He had laid down on his ice-cold bed and draped a thin blanket over himself. He had then silently told himself that he wasn't hungry at all. He wouldn't feel hungry once he fell asleep. He wouldn't feel hungry if he thought about his father and mother.

1. The first line of the 'Three Character Classic'. It was probably written in the 13th century, and is mainly attributed to Wang Yinglin during the Song dynasty. It is also attributed to Ou Shizi. ?

2. Titles for people who come first and third in the highest imperial examination. ?

3. A successful candidate in the highest imperial examination ?

4. In Chinese, the cultivation world (??) is read "jianghu". The characters on the gourd (??) literally translate to "ginger flask". ?

Johnchen and Flying Dumpling's Thoughts

Poor little Ping'an