VOL 1. THE STORM RISES IN JINLING CITY – Chapter 1. The Sword Returns to the South
by Slashh-XOIn early spring, just after the Waking of Insects 1Jingzhe (驚蟄, Awakening of Insects — the solar term when hibernating insects emerge,sword rain fell upon Hangu Pass.
Lu Yunting of the Jingbo Sword and Jin Man, The Second Lord of Wuhou Manor, had fought their way from the Luo River all the way to the gates of Hangu Pass. Their sword qi tore through wind and rain, nearly shredding the banners fluttering atop the arrow tower. The general defending the pass could only suppress his fury and ordered his soldiers to lower their fully drawn bows, afraid that a spark of war would be dragged eastward.
The two of them fought for a full day and night, shaving off nearly half the mountain outside the pass, but no victor emerged. The story spread swiftly and became a regular topic in every teahouse along the ancient road connecting the twin capitals.
The Twin Capital Road ran east to west, guarded by the mighty strongholds of Hangu and Tong Pass. It was said to hold the mountains and rivers both inside and out. Yet even this great artery between the two capitals had known no peace of late. In the spring wind, there was always the scent of sword rain, making travel more difficult than before.
A speeding carriage stirred up fallen leaves. Inside sat a pampered young noble, his face unbothered by the bumpy ride. His features gleamed with lively energy, much like the jade belt at his waist. If not for his overly plump frame making it hard to move in the cramped carriage, he might have seized the moment to demonstrate a few moves himself.
“You don’t even know how fierce the sword clash was. The sound was like thunder. When Lu Yunting struck, his sword felled more than a dozen towering trees in one slash. The cuts were so clean, not a single tree was left standing, and they all collapsed into the stream below, nearly blocking the flow entirely. Jin Man stepped onto those falling trunks and leapt into the air. With a flick of his ten golden threads, the leaves were shredded to bits. But in the end, Lu Yunting failed to sever even one of those threads, and Jin Man couldn’t tear off so much as a corner of Lu Yunting’s robe. Based on my many years of experience as Wang Ziling…”
Sitting across from Wang Ziling was a young maiden in her prime. She occasionally covered her mouth in amazement, her apricot eyes widening ever so slightly, which only made him grow more animated as he spoke. As dusk approached, the old servant driving the carriage suggested they find a place to rest. Feeling tender toward the fair maiden, Wang Ziling decided to look for a farmhouse to stay the night, and the carriage turned off onto a side path.
As the sun set, smoke curled upward. From one of the houses built along the stream came the scent of freshly cooked food. Lifting the curtain, Wang Ziling took a sniff and immediately caught the aroma of cured meat, beggar’s chicken, and even crucian carp. Before the old servant could assist him, he had already stepped out of the carriage and attentively led the young woman forward.
The girl lowered her head and smiled shyly. Feeling encouraged, Wang Ziling eagerly went to knock on the door. It was a slightly wealthier household, surrounded by a low mudbrick wall. But then the old servant suddenly caught a faint, unusual smell in the air. Alarmed, he hurried forward to stop him. “Young master, wait—”
But he had underestimated just how eager his young master was to show off. The shout and the sound of the door opening happened almost at the same time. There was nothing strange about the battered wooden door swinging open. Nothing strange about the plain tables and chairs inside the house. But the courtyard filled with scattered corpses left the maiden pale with fright.
She covered her mouth, stifling a half-formed scream. The old servant’s murky eyes, however, gleamed with an intensity that had no business belonging to someone his age. With a sudden burst of speed, he rushed forward and shielded his young master. One arm held Wang Ziling back, the other gripped the short blade at his waist. His sharp, guarded gaze locked onto the only living person inside the house.
Not only was that man alive, but he was seated among the corpses, eating, without a speck of dust on him.
It was strange. All of it was too strange.
The bodies strewn across the courtyard were both male and female, each in a different pose. The stench of blood began to drift outward the moment the door opened, curling into their noses and mouths. Inside the hall, there remained a single table that was still mostly intact. One of its legs had broken off, yet it stood stubbornly in place. The man seated at the table wore a pale azure robe, spotless from head to toe, so clean he seemed utterly out of place amid the carnage. He held a slender-necked white porcelain wine flask and was calmly pouring himself a drink.
He poured huangjiu2黃酒, a traditional Chinese rice wine),nothing expensive, but fitting for such a humble farmhouse.Nothing expensive, but fitting for such a humble farmhouse.
Once the cup was full, he set the flask down and raised his head, revealing a face that looked plain and unremarkable, perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five years old. He said, “This is a Hongmen Banquet3鴻門宴, a banquet that’s actually a deadly trap, a hall of killing. Whether you’re a king or a ghost, I suggest you leave at once.”
“Who are you? Why is everyone in this household dead?” Wang Ziling stood behind the old servant, spine straight, shielding the young woman.
“What does that have to do with you?” The man’s voice had a distant, ethereal quality, like drifting clouds. It matched the clean elegance of his robe. But the expression on his face carried a trace of wickedness.
Could this be some sort of demonic cultivator? Wang Ziling knew well that such people loved to dress up like decent men. Now that he had run into one, of course he had to act for the good of the people. But the old servant spoke in a low voice, “Young master, step back.”
His brows were tightly furrowed. The young man in the house gave him a dangerous feeling. This was no place to linger.
But Wang Ziling was unwilling to leave just like that. Several people had been killed. If he simply walked away as if nothing had happened, where was his conscience? And besides, the beauty was watching.
“No, Uncle Chai. I, Wang—”
“The Wang clan is a noble family. How could you possibly behave so callously toward human life, am I right?” The man smiled, his gaze lifting slightly, as if he had sensed something. “Forgive me for being blunt. But because you talk too much, now you can’t leave.”
“What do you mean by that? Just who do you think you are…” Rage surged in Wang Ziling’s chest. This demonic bastard clearly wasn’t any good. He even dared to mock the Wang clan. But before he could finish speaking, Uncle Chai suddenly turned and tackled him to the ground. “Watch out.”
In a flash of lightning, several streaks of silver light shot in from all directions. There was a faint metallic clang in the air. Wang Ziling stared wide-eyed as one of the lights struck the ground near his hand. The glow faded slightly, revealing its true form. Long and slender.
Hun Yuan Arrows, arrows infused with primal force.
Wang Ziling quickly pulled his hand back in fright. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the nearby doorway and immediately tried to scramble up and run. But Uncle Chai was alert. He yanked him back and retreated several steps.
The attackers entered through the front door.
But what arrived first was not a person. It was a sword. A flying sword, pitch-black and made of heavy iron. Alongside the furious shout of its owner, it shot toward the house like a bolt of lightning.
“Meng Qiqi! Come out and die!”
The black iron sword stirred up a violent gust, nearly slapping Wang Ziling across the face. He held his cheek, mouth agape, struggling to make sense of what was happening.
Meng Qiqi?! That name left Wang Ziling stunned.
He turned his head sharply and saw that the man inside the house had already set down his wine cup. With his left palm pressing against the table for leverage, he flipped forward as lightly as a swallow, dodging the incoming black sword with ease.
The hem of his pale azure robe brushed past the sword qi. At the same moment, Meng Qiqi drew a slender longsword from his waist and struck the black sword’s hilt without the slightest flourish.
The clash of blades rang out, clear and piercing. As Meng Qiqi landed, his toe tapped lightly on the tabletop. While turning his body, he slashed down two approaching Hun Yuan Arrows, cutting them clean from the air.
The broken arrows clattered to the ground, yet the three-legged table beneath his feet remained perfectly steady.
Wang Ziling watched as Meng Qiqi clashed once again with the black sword. Fear gripped his heart, but at the same time, he recalled rumors he had heard over the years beyond the pass.
Xiujian… Meng Qiqi… Isn’t this that same Meng Qiqi, the one they say killed a man’s father with forty-nine sword strikes?
He felt a chill run through his entire body. What rotten luck. Wang Ziling trembled and said, “Let’s go. We have to go now.”
“We can’t.” Uncle Chai stood protectively in front of Wang Ziling, sword in hand, his expression grim. “There are attackers on all sides.”
And worse still, those attackers seemed to think they were Meng Qiqi’s allies. Each strike came harder than the last.
Right now, Wang Ziling could only regret interfering in someone else’s business. The regret made him want to slap himself just to make up for it.
And that Meng Qiqi. Just how many enemies did he have?
Wang Ziling gripped his Huntian Chu, 4a blunt, heavy spiritual weapon, often short and thick, like a cudgel, infused with primordial energybut he wasn’t expecting this half-length natal weapon to carve out a path of glory. What he really wanted was to dig through the wall.
Since people were climbing over the wall to get in, he figured he might as well smash a hole through it and slip out from below. What was the point of fighting? It had nothing to do with him. Survival was all that mattered now.
“Cover me.” He shouted the order to Uncle Chai, then turned and swung his chu straight at the courtyard wall. No matter how sturdy a farmhouse wall was, it was no match for his spiritual weapon. With one strike, he smashed open a hole.
Wang Ziling’s face lit up with joy, but the next instant, that joy froze in place. Someone outside had just been about to climb over the wall. The hole opened up right in front of them, and their eyes met.
Both sides held their breath for a moment. Then the enemy raised a blade and swung.
Wang Ziling immediately thrust his chu forward to meet it and shouted with all his might, “Uncle Chai, save me.”
But in the corner of his eye, he saw Uncle Chai locked in a fight with three other attackers coming from the opposite side. He could not come to help.
Panic rose in Wang Ziling’s chest. Just then, a streak of sword light shot past. Before he could even see which sword it was, a hand reached from behind and grabbed his head, forcefully twisting it to the left.
A slender longsword swept past his ear and pierced the attacker’s throat with pinpoint precision, killing them in a single strike.
The danger was over, but Wang Ziling’s fear didn’t lessen one bit. He already knew who the person behind him was.
It was that damned Meng Qiqi.
“You’re pretty lucky, Young Master Wang.” Meng Qiqi’s hand slid casually onto the back of his neck, and his teasing voice brushed against Wang Ziling’s earlobe. “Say, if the ones chasing me happened to kill the Wang family’s young heir by mistake, wouldn’t I get to sit back and enjoy the show while the tigers tear each other apart?”
“No, no, no…” Wang Ziling was on the verge of tears. “They don’t even like me that much anyway, really…”
“What are you panicking for? Can’t take a joke? You’re no fun at all.” Meng Qiqi’s smiling eyes flashed with a sharp glint. His slender sword flipped and blocked an incoming strike from the side. With a twist of his wrist, a shimmering current ran across the thin silver blade and shattered the enemy’s thicker longsword piece by piece.
Just then, the black sword that had been harassing him earlier came hurtling down from above. Meng Qiqi kicked Wang Ziling toward the corner and raised his sword to meet it head-on.
The dim twilight was swept clean by the clash of swordlight.
Wang Ziling tumbled into the wall and came to a stop. His upside-down view gave him an entirely different perspective. The slender silver sword shone like moonlight. That pale azure figure moved with the grace of a startled swan. His light robe fluttered like drifting clouds as he spun and weaved through the chaos.
Suddenly, those rumors surfaced in his mind again. They might have been true or false, but all of them spoke of the Forty-nine Sword.
At that very moment, the master of the black sword finally appeared in the twilight. He was a man dressed in black combat robes, his hair tied messily at the back of his head. His build was unusually tall and powerful. The moment Wang Ziling laid eyes on him, his heart pounded wildly in his chest.
This was the Black Demon, a notorious outlaw from the mountains beyond Hangu Pass. That region was filled with fugitives who committed all kinds of crimes, including arson, murder, and looting. Wang Ziling had once seen him from a distance last year. At the time, Black Demon had seemed to be in a rush and left quickly, so he had not caused Wang Ziling any trouble.
But who would have thought he would appear here, launching an assault on Meng Qiqi. It seemed the rumors Wang Ziling had overheard last month at the relay station were not unfounded after all.
Black Demon’s men had received a major job. While they were in the middle of carrying it out, they happened to run into Meng Qiqi. In the past two years, Meng Qiqi had earned a small name for himself beyond the pass. Black Demon’s men originally had no intention of stirring up more trouble. But Meng Qiqi refused to back down. With just a few words, he had killed one of Black Demon’s trusted subordinates and ruined their plans.
Now, the man spread his fingers slightly. The black sword whistled sharply through the air before flying back into his hand. He looked up toward Meng Qiqi, who stood on the opposite rooftop. His gaze was cold and vicious.
“Did you really think that running inside the pass would save you from death?”
“Then would the great Balck Demon be so kind as to let me go, just this once?” Meng Qiqi gave a light laugh. The moon rose behind him, full and luminous, making his figure look almost sacred.
Black Demon let out a derisive snort and glanced at the corpses on the ground. “So this is the great Meng Xiu I’ve heard so much about. Seeing you today, you are hardly impressive. You slaughtered innocents just to keep your tracks hidden and took over another’s home. How are you any different from me? Why not submit to me, become one of my people, and I’ll let bygones be bygones. What do you say?”
“Then how about this,” Meng Qiqi lifted his sword and spun it into a flourish. His right foot stepped forward. In his slanted phoenix eyes, a killing intent surged forth. “You give me your position as leader.”
Black Demon’s expression darkened. The black sword in his hand swept wide and heavy, cleaving straight toward Meng Qiqi. He was not one for words. Since Meng Qiqi refused to accept his offer, he would simply kill him.
But Wang Ziling’s pupils contracted in that moment.
The Forty-nine Sword.
It was not the name of a sword style, nor a collection of forty-nine different swords. It referred to a single sword technique that unleashed seven times seven, forty-nine strikes. In the world, there was only one person who used it.
The sword flower Meng Qiqi just spun formed a lotus. The lotus bloomed as it left the sword, splitting into forty-nine petals that filled the sky. Each petal was a sword.
The silver-white blades were each no larger than a palm, but their power was immense. This move was called Lotus Bloom.
Black Demon had no choice but to stop and defend. He thrust his black sword heavily into the ground and dropped to one knee. With his left palm, he summoned all the energy in his body and struck the sword. A dull sound rang out as an invisible barrier spread outward from the black sword.
Countless silver swords rained against the barrier like moonlight falling from the sky. Sharp impacts rang out again and again. Some blades pierced through and drew blood, but Black Demon was no ordinary thug. He had survived many years outside the pass. Meng Qiqi could not kill him with just one strike.
At that moment, Wang Ziling, whom no one was paying attention to, noticed something strange.
The corpses on the ground had begun to move.
The peasant woman who had been lying in the courtyard since the beginning crawled over to a body that was not yet completely dead. A cunning glint appeared in her open eyes. Then, she raised a knife and slit the person’s throat.
Wang Ziling’s mouth hung wide open in shock, frozen and unable to close. The peasant woman, having dealt with the nearby enemy, quietly got up from the ground. She crept up behind another enemy, and just as he raised his sword toward Meng Qiqi, she drove her blade into his back.
The same scene was playing out across the courtyard. The corpses that had been lying motionless since the beginning, including the peasant woman, the old man, and the half-grown boy, suddenly rose in eerie coordination. In the blink of an eye, they had wiped out more than half of Black Demon’s men, leaving no time for anyone to react.
The situation flipped instantly.
A cold smile tugged at the corner of Meng Qiqi’s lips. The strikes of his sword grew sharper, faster. He pressed down on Black Demon with such relentless force that the man could no longer spare even a glance at his subordinates. His heart was filled with nothing but shock.
Meng Qiqi had been hiding his strength earlier. His true ability was far beyond what he had shown.
“Retreat.” Black Demon made a swift decision.
With a burst of sword qi from his black blade that cracked like thunder, he forced Meng Qiqi back for a moment, then turned and fled. He wasn’t about to throw his life away here. If not for his previous testing that had led him to believe Meng Qiqi was slightly weaker, he would never have shown himself so easily.
That man was truly cunning.
But since he wanted to run, how could Meng Qiqi possibly let him?
The pale azure figure flashed out of the courtyard, chasing after Black Demon. Inside the courtyard, the last of the battle still raged on, but the chance to leave had finally arrived.
Wang Ziling gripped his Huntian Chu tightly, his dark eyes darting around. The two strongest fighters had left. Among those who remained, one side had fewer people but higher cultivation, while the other had greater numbers. For now, they were evenly matched and had no time to worry about anyone else.
Uncle Chai had been injured in the earlier fight. Wang Ziling followed close behind him, quietly retreating toward the section of wall he had smashed open earlier. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Almost there.
Wang Ziling was stirred with excitement. He couldn’t help thinking, even if he lacked martial skill, at least his brain was still useful.
But just as he had one foot over the wall, he saw the peasant woman suddenly turn her head and stare directly at them. The next second, she raised her bloodstained sword and rushed toward them.
“Hey! Don’t leave just yet!”
Wang Ziling nearly jumped out of his skin. Don’t leave? What do you mean don’t leave?
“You go first.” Uncle Chai shoved him hard, pushing him over the wall while staying behind to cover the rear.
Wang Ziling stumbled a few steps after landing. He wanted to keep running, but his legs faltered as he turned back to look. No, he couldn’t leave Uncle Chai behind. That man had always been loyal. If he hadn’t acted so rashly, none of this would have happened. He couldn’t abandon him. He had to go back.
He tightened his grip on the cudgel, shouted to rally his courage, and charged back in.
“Uncle Chai!” Wang Ziling thrust the cudgel forward with all the strength he could muster. This time, he really used every bit of power in his body. His momentum was fierce and unrestrained.
The peasant woman leapt back in alarm. “Wait, wait, wait. A chance meeting is fate. We’re all friends here!”
“Who’s friends with you!” Wang Ziling had had enough. But he couldn’t stop himself either. The cudgel came down hard. The woman barely dodged with a backward flip. As she landed, her longsword swung and took down another enemy. Blood ran down her blade as she held her chest and gasped, clearly startled.
“You nearly scared me to death, Young Master. We can talk this out.”
Wang Ziling was the one who nearly died. Could she please not say that after killing someone?
At that moment, a black shadow suddenly came crashing down from outside the courtyard. The peasant woman and Wang Ziling looked up and quickly jumped back.
A heavy thud struck the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Even the few remaining subordinates of Black Demon who were still putting up resistance were startled. Before Wang Ziling could open his eyes to see what the shadow was, another figure followed close behind.
He streaked through the air like a beam of light and crashed straight onto the dark figure. One knee pinned the figure’s chest, and the longsword in his hand drove downward with force.
A wet sound followed as the blade pierced the heart. Black Demon’s eyes widened in unwilling rage. Blood filled his mouth as he glared at Meng Qiqi’s face, now just inches away.
“Meng… Qiqi…”
Meng Qiqi smiled faintly. He pulled out his sword, stood up, and looked down on him from above.
“Safe travels. No need to see you off.”
Black Demon was dead.
His remaining subordinates were quickly cleaned up. Those who didn’t manage to escape were all killed. Though every one of them deserved it, Wang Ziling still felt uneasy as he watched Meng Qiqi calmly take out a silk handkerchief and begin wiping down his sword.
What truly made Wang Ziling’s knees weak was the way the peasant woman addressed Meng Qiqi.
“Master, all done. But really, that Black Demon wasn’t much. We could have just killed him from the start.”
“My good disciple, peel that wrinkled mask off your face before talking to your master, alright?” Meng Qiqi slid his cleaned sword back into its scabbard. When he looked up again, the peasant woman had already pulled off the human-skin mask, revealing the face of a girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen. She tugged off her headscarf as well, letting down a cascade of black hair. Her features were delicate and bright, lively and sweet.
Wang Ziling stood there in a daze. At the same time, the old man and the teenage boy also changed appearances. One turned into a handsome young man, the other into a one-eyed boy who looked about twelve or thirteen.
Meng Qiqi patted the girl on the head. “My good disciple, let your master teach you something. People who always say ‘no need to use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken’ usually end up dying faster.”
The girl playfully stuck out her tongue. “Got it, Master.”
Just then, Wang Ziling suddenly remembered the young woman named Miss Yun, the one they had picked up along the way. Where was she now? The thought sent a cold sweat down his back.
No way…
Wang Ziling quickly looked around, scanning over corpse after corpse, but didn’t see her anywhere. He couldn’t tell whether he should be relieved or worried. Just as his thoughts were spinning out of control, a familiar voice came from behind him.
“Y-Young Master Wang.”
He turned around and saw her peeking timidly from inside the house. She looked utterly shaken. He rushed over at once. “Miss Yun, I’m so glad you’re alright. I really wouldn’t have known what to do if something had happened to you.”
Miss Yun’s eyes were slightly red. When she noticed Meng Qiqi looking in their direction, she immediately lowered her head and shrank behind Wang Ziling like a frightened rabbit. Wang Ziling couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Thinking back on how it was his recklessness that dragged her into such danger, he felt even more guilty.
Uncle Chai had finished bandaging his wound and spoke in a low voice. “Young master, we should leave now.”
Wang Ziling thought to himself, leaving would be great if only they could. He instinctively turned to look at Meng Qiqi. Just then, Meng Qiqi bent down and picked up a thin letter from the ground.
Damn it. Wang Ziling felt a jolt in his chest.
That letter had fallen from his own body.
“Immortal seeking assembly,” Meng Qiqi murmured, half-smiling as he repeated the words. His slender eyes glanced toward Wang Ziling. “Young Master Wang, what a fateful coincidence. Out here in the wilds, it’s easy to kill, but hard to travel. And wouldn’t you know it, we happen to be going the same way. Care to give us a ride?”
At the same time, thousands of miles away on the solitary peaks of Tingzhou, white cranes beat their wings as the gates of Shanyu Hall opened.
Senior disciple Chen Boyan stood in the hall with a letter in hand. A silver sword mark traced the center of his brow, lending him a cold, elegant presence. He unfolded the letter. Inside was a single line:
“I will return soon. Either to seek the immortal path, or to slay demons.”
Sect leader Xue Manshan gave a grave instruction.
“Back then, your little martial uncle headed toward the North Sea burial grounds. No one expected him to take a detour into the outer regions and disappear for three years. If you see him this time, bring him back no matter what. Even if you have to tie him up.”
“Yes, Master,” Chen Boyan replied, though his gaze remained fixed on the letter.
At the bottom of the page were three bold, unrestrained characters.
Meng Qiqi.
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