Chapter 23#

The man’s eyes were sharp and deep. When his pitch-black pupils stared at a person, it always made them feel a burst of dizziness. The young man looked away and said with a cold face: “Then let’s start practicing quickly.”

Hua Qianjue nodded, and then said: “But not here, you… follow me.” As he spoke, he strode ahead, parting the flowers and willows with his hands, opening up a quiet path. The two walked for about the time it takes to burn two incense sticks, and saw a crimson stream flowing slowly.

The young man couldn’t help but look carefully, only to find that the stream was covered with layers of petals. The man pointed to the upper reaches of the stream and said: “This is Huanhua Creek, upstream is Butterfly Spring…” The young man interrupted impatiently: “Why be so long-winded!”

Hua Qianjue glared at him angrily. Obviously, no matter how he dispersed his kung fu, his temper could not be called good. He subdued the young man with one move, and unceremoniously inputted another stream of domineering true qi into the young man’s meridians. The young man cried out “Wah”, screaming in pain again. A faint red appeared in his eyes, and that harmful mental cultivation method activated without warning. What he was thinking in his mind at this time was not how to dissolve the true qi, but how to kill the person in front of him.

The man looked at his expression without surprise, watching the young man pounce aggressively. He turned sideways to avoid it with the technique of four ounces moving a thousand pounds, reached out and inputted another stream of true qi full of gentle force into his meridians, but scolded in a low voice: “Be quiet for me. When I practiced kung fu back then, no one told me how to practice, let alone lost true qi to help me practice!”

These words, however, could not enter the young man’s ears at all. While dodging the attacks quickly, Hua Qianjue extended his palm to transfer various attributes of true qi such as cold, heat, yin, yang, hard, and soft. The two fought like this for more than two hours, until Hua Jinian’s chaotic attacks destroyed the scenery within a radius of three zhang, filling the sky with withering flower rain, paving a mesmerizing color.

At this time, both of them were covered in sweat and flower mud. Hua Qianjue suddenly shouted loudly, struck both palms down on the young man’s crown, transforming the internal energy of his whole body into two small circulations rotating in circles, one wandering through the eight extraordinary meridians, one flowing through the twelve regular meridians. At the same time, he activated the Condensed Essence Kung Fu and Sacred Jade Kung Fu used by Futu Fortress for practicing breathing, and two streams of true qi of the same origin were transferred into Hua Jinian’s body through the left and right hands respectively. After transferring for the time of half an incense stick, Hua Qianjue withdrew his palms and flew backward.

The young man seemed to have endured great pain. More than ten streams of true qi collided with each other in his body. His handsome face twisted and twitched, he screamed hoarsely, clenched his fists, and blood gradually flowed from his eyes, winding like two lines of bloody tears, shocking to the eye. Hua Qianjue cried out “bad” in his heart, avoided the young man’s chaotic kicking and beating from behind, and threw him into Huanhua Creek.

The stream water was icy cold, even emitting a cold fragrance. Fine petals stuck all over the young man’s body the moment he entered the water, and as the young man sank uncontrollably, they were squeezed by water pressure to detach from the body again, slowly floating to the surface. In the pitch-black and dark water, pink fluorescent petals floated up slowly, forming a demonic and poignant picture.

And Hua Jinian only felt cold at this moment.

The stream covered by petals never saw sunlight all year round, cold as snow and ice. When his body touched the soft fine sand at the bottom of the stream, he felt even colder. He remembered what he had been afraid of, he was afraid of dying quietly in the river like this…

The quicksand was fine and soft. The young man struggled hard, but found that his limbs were frozen, stiff as iron and stone, and his blood was almost solidified. In this stream water, the alien true qi gradually stopped clamoring, and the heartbeat struggled weakly in the cold… The broken body overwhelmed by torture, the fragile meridians impacted, the exhausted internal energy vented. The young man looked up at the dense mass of petals above his head in the stream water as cold as snow water, feeling a buzzing in his ears. His soul flew up as if overwhelmed, penetrating layers of darkness, entering the chaotic and hazy white mist.

Hua Jinian opened his eyes in the white mist and saw another sea of flowers. Dark golden river water flowed quietly by the sea of flowers.

He seemed to have entered someone else’s nightmare. A voice clear as jade murmured and sighed in this nightmare: “Your Honor, in the first life, I begged for a meeting in front of the Buddha for five hundred years…”

The young man floated like a transparent silhouette, fragile like a scar cast on the ground in the weak dim sunlight. He looked up and saw the complex sea of flowers, the flowing Yellow Springs, the empty large red phoenix sedan chair, left alone in the sea of flowers.

The past years, like silhouettes of scars, flew past his eyes scene by scene, instantly mesmerizing and confusing.

Before the unknown years, that river bank, just like in front of his eyes, was full of bustling Manjusaka flowers.

The roots of every Manjusaka flower were tightly coiled around a skeleton. They absorbed the remaining essence and blood, resentment, obsession, and memory in the skull. Flowers blooming because of blood inherited all the love and hate of the skeletons, blooming profusely, emitting a round and dripping bloody aura and fragrance. That flower was just one in this sea of flowers, its branches and leaves swaying with the wind, its petals fluttering with the wind.

That person stepped through the sea of flowers. On the familiar face, thousands of miles were ice-sealed. Ten thousand demons worshipped, groups of devils kowtowed. The little ghosts who were originally playing under its flowers with pigtails pointing to the sky were scared into hiding. At that time, he, the immortal Demon Lord in this world, came to it, looked at its huge flower cup like a skeleton, looked at its flower stem as tall as an adult. His hand landed on its transparent and pale flower cup. Even separated by a layer of black demon deerskin gloves, it tremblingly knew the coldness and cruelty of that hand.

With just one look from him, the soil under its roots was dug open by ghost soldiers. What was entangled in its roots was not a skeleton, but a silver flute left in the sea of flowers by someone. The seeds of every flower were blown by the wind, falling into the eye sockets of skeletons, taking root, sprouting, blooming. But it was blown to the wrong place. Its roots coiled around this Buddhist instrument that accidentally fell into the Yellow Springs, blooming a huge flower cup pure white as snow.

It thought he would crush this fragile petal, tear up the color that was completely incompatible with this sea of flowers. But he actually smiled in the end. He looked at it and smiled: “Actually, someone is practicing Buddhism in my territory…” The sea of flowers around him shook off petals filling the sky for his laughter. Thunder exploded in the clear sky, and huge waves surged in the Dead Sea quiet as a mirror.

In the mesmerizing colors filling the sky, it saw him break into a smile.

The sea of flowers was mesmerizing. Seeing the demon’s face, there was great joy.

Its roots henceforth clamored to coil around one thing. It waited there for him to come again, blooming every year. No matter how many times it withered, no matter how many times he missed the flowering season, it still bloomed again every year, blossomed every year, until the flower cup was higher than a human head. Only then could it stand proudly in the sea of flowers, in the lust filled with bloody aura, blooming a pure white and bright huge flower cup. Only such flawless cleanliness dared to be presented before the Lord.

In this fragmented memory, the young man thought he was having an absurd dream. However, this only bit of wisdom was led by someone and sucked back fiercely. He wanted to look again, but when he opened his eyes again, above his head was still that dense sea of flowers, and beside him was still the pitch-black cold stream. The young man’s body was like chaos, killing intent gradually receded. From then on, he was dull and ignorant like a toddler in front of sorrow and joy, lost and ignorant.

Others only said that the divine skill was achieved, but they didn’t know that that bit of wisdom would be trapped in the smile from several lifetimes ago from then on.

He sat up from the stream and slowly surfaced. Hua Qianjue was standing by the stream bending over to look at him. The young man happened to break the water and come out. Pink petals slid down and stuck to his pitch-black scattered hair. He climbed ashore unaware, saw the boundless sea of flowers beside him, and his heart was empty.

Hua Qianjue looked at him thoughtfully, reached out to tidy the young man’s hair, and asked him in a low voice: “What are you thinking?”

The young man had no desire to answer in his heart. After struggling for a long time, he forced himself to concentrate his will and replied: “If someone waits for you in the same place year after year, month after month, not remembering how many years they have waited, looking forward day and night, would you… be moved a little?…”

The man laughed in astonishment: “Why do you think like that?”

The young man looked at him blankly, unable to say a word.

—It waited there for him to come again, blooming every year, no matter how many times it withered, no matter how many times he missed the flowering season.

The man looked at him silently, looking at his empty and confused expression, suddenly flew into a rage, grabbed his collar to force him to stand up, and then attacked the young man with a palm. Hua Jinian was unaware in his heart, but his body automatically slid to the side, like a melon falling when ripe, water flowing when a channel is formed, everything happening naturally. Hua Qianjue forced himself to withdraw his angry look, remained silent for a long time, then squeezed out a forced smile, and asked him with a smile: “Look, your skill has improved greatly at this moment, aren’t you happy, aren’t you joyful?”

The young man’s eyes were empty, looking up at the man listlessly.

—Aren’t you happy, aren’t you joyful?

The sea of flowers was mesmerizing. Seeing the demon’s face, there was great joy.

What kind of heartbreaking torture is this, and what kind of bliss enjoyed as if it were sweet.

Just like this, they spent a month together day and night. The more they lived and slept together, the more they were speechless to each other. Except for practicing kung fu, there was no communication.

That assembly specially for martial arts rookies to show their skills was held as scheduled. Hua Jinian set off alone on a horse in a muddle-headed manner, eating dry food when hungry, drinking rain water when thirsty. Every time he arrived at a branch, he was forced to wash up once. His cheeks were thin but his demeanor was not diminished in the slightest.

Holding the invitation in his hand, the young man rode into the imperial city of Xuanzhou unimpeded all the way. The place where people from various sects stayed was the largest Hero Tower in Xuanzhou. The main tower was deep like a patio. At the bottom was a circular grandstand for dancing girls to indulge in pleasure. Upwards there were about five or six floors. Each floor had twelve guest rooms arranged according to the Heavenly Stems. Connected to the front of each guest room was a private room for viewing, facing the song and dance stage directly. When watching singing and dancing, one could raise a cup to watch; when drinking and having fun, one could lower the bamboo curtain; when resting, one could even enter the guest room directly from the private room, close the door, and rest with peace of mind.

But during this time, in order to welcome this business where fists and feet have no eyes, the building was reinforced drastically. Hundreds of lanterns were hung on the railings of each floor. When the competition started, the lights were all bright, just to illuminate the song and dance stage as if it were daytime.

Disciples competing had to walk around the Hero Tower according to the rules to familiarize themselves with the environment, and then go to the Suyun Pavilion where the martial arts leaders hosting the assembly stayed to submit their visiting cards. When Hua Jinian arrived, he skipped the first rule directly. When his visiting card was sent up, it was casually placed together with the cards of other disciples. He was let through without careful inspection. After all, few ordinary people could have his demeanor, elegant like a tall tree growing out of a bush.

He walked into the hall. So many disciples from aristocratic families, each in silk and satin. Looking around, most were in white. But as soon as he came in, the hall became quiet. Tired from the journey of carriages and horses, his shoes and socks were not stained with half a speck of dust. His hair, black as ink, was tied into the jade crown without a single strand out of place. No fan waving, no jade pendant hanging at the waist, not even a sword… Just a glance from left to right with those eyes as distinct as black lacquer and white, made people sigh with admiration for his brilliant talent.

Neither in official gown nor shoes, like a unique tree standing out from the forest, looking down on the wind and clouds.

Hua Jinian bowed slightly, cleared his throat, and spoke faintly: “I am from Futu Fortress…”

As soon as the voice came out, Yan Yong, the master of Danxia Temple sitting upright in the seat of honor, stood up moved, stepped forward a few steps to help him up, and said tremblingly: “Nephew, no need to say more, I recognize you. You look exactly like Madam Ruan carved out of the same mold. Brother Congyun suffered this bad news, my righteous path is like losing an arm. Presumably you haven’t had a good time during this period. However, this time, Nephew can let the martial arts world see the elegance of the Golden Saber again!”

Hua Jinian frowned slightly, broke his hand free, and said indifferently: “Temple Master misunderstood. I never use a sword.”

As soon as his voice fell, a long shout came from outside the door: “Ruan Xiyu, the orphan of the Golden Saber Ruan family, submits a visiting card to see the seniors—”

Yan Yong looked at him in astonishment and asked in surprise: “The one outside is Ruan Xiyu, then you are…?”

Hua Jinian couldn’t help laughing mockingly: “I am not Young Master Ruan, I am from Futu Fortress.”

As soon as his voice fell, he heard everyone around him gasp in unison. Someone on the left cursed in a low voice: “So it’s the monster from Futu Fortress!”

The master of Danxia Temple shook his head slightly, chanted ‘Infinite Life Buddha’, and then sighed: “Pity, pity. The little benefactor is talented, but unexpectedly cannot be used for the righteous path.” Hua Jinian laughed loudly: “What is righteous, what is evil? If a demon has a human heart, he can cultivate to achieve the right fruit; if a human has a demon heart, he will fall into Avici Hell.”

Yan Yong was stunned, looked up at him, but saw chaos in the young man’s eyes, seeming like joy yet also sorrow. His heart shivered. A fierce wind blew past, and his sleeves were blown high by internal energy. The young abbot of Jiaye Temple behind him shouted in a low voice: “Temple Master Yan!”

This soft shout, however, was mixed with Buddhist internal energy, penetrating into Yan Yong’s ears word by word, like a large bell, deafening and enlightening. Yan Yong was shaken back to his senses, realizing that he had actually moved killing intent in an instant, and couldn’t help regretting endlessly. He immediately flicked his sleeves and returned to his seat. But he heard Hua Jinian chuckling behind him and repeating: “Human has a demon heart…”

The abbot of Jiaye Temple looked up at him, frowned with a pair of kind eyebrows, and advised in a low voice: “Little benefactor, the sea of bitterness has no bounds.”

Hua Jinian looked up, one corner of his mouth raised slightly, his handsome and otherworldly features blooming with a murderous smile, and whispered: “I only seek to pull a few more people to follow me into this sea of bitterness, then I will be happy.”

The abbot laughed low: “Why should the little benefactor trouble himself? Everyone is in the sea of bitterness. If the benefactor finds someone who can ferry you, get out early.”

Hua Jinian was stunned, the killing intent on his face unknowingly lost, and asked somewhat confusedly: “What if the only person who can ferry me is never willing to ferry me?”

The abbot of Jiaye Temple chanted a Buddha’s name in a low voice, smiled compassionately, solemn and dignified. He whispered: “Buddhism ferries people from the sea of bitterness forever.”

Hua Jinian seemed to look at him with some hesitation. That compassionate smile hit the softest corner of people’s hearts directly. He almost wanted to agree, but at this moment, he remembered another person’s smile, without gentleness, but like rolling thunder, without charm, but like terrifying waves, a bloodthirsty smile in the mesmerizing colors filling the sky, entangled into his calamity for several lifetimes. In a trance, the young man had an illusion of wanting to cry. He threw his head back and laughed loudly: “Thank you, Abbot, but the person who can ferry me is in Avici Hell. How can I be reborn alone? I… haha! I have decided to incarnate as an Asura, accompanying him in slaughter for a lifetime. Please forgive me for not being able to go to the Pure Land with the Abbot!”

After saying this, seeing the angry expressions of the heroes in the hall wanting to get rid of him quickly, his heart beat and jumped painfully and happily. He bowed to the abbot again, then turned and strode out of Suyun Pavilion, brushing past the green-clad young man waiting quietly outside the door. At this time, they were no longer separated by the status of master and servant, but of equal status, even more noble and prominent. Far away from peace, coming to the center of the magnificent Jianghu whirlpool, turning clouds and rain, calling wind and rain, stirring up wind and rain, he should be happy… but he didn’t know if this was happiness.