Chapter 130: Throughout the City, Swords Point North; The Sword Immortal Crosses the Great River with Heroic Spirit

"Eight thousand miles from here to the Yuan-Meng capital of Dadu. Would you care to join me in witnessing the rivers and mountains of the Central Plains?"

Zhao Huangting's words were filled with an unprecedented sense of heroic spirit and a surging, turbulent intent to battle. To head north, survey the Central Plains, and challenge the Yuan-Meng Emperor was a wish Zhao Huangting had set long ago—the final regret of his life.

He had once lamented that he had never sharpened the Qingshan sword; now, that regret had been mended by An Le. Yet, the desire to cross blades with the Yuan-Meng Emperor once more, to seek a truly satisfying duel, was a regret he had carried for five hundred years. This was something An Le could not fix for him; he had to fulfill it himself. Thus, the journey north was a road he was fated to walk.

Back in Lin'an, when Zhao Huangting ignited the fires of Nirvana, he had not been in a hurry to head north. Had it not been for the aid of Master Suzhu's Heart Sword, he might have been forced to depart simply because his life was nearing its end. But after the Heart Sword suppressed the flames of Nirvana, he brought An Le to the Sword Pool Palace, where Qingshan was finally sharpened. His last regret had been satisfied.

Through the Qingshan blade, Zhao Huangting had glimpsed a grand heroism. Even though the First Emperor of the Ages was reduced to a mere stone effigy, he still possessed such magnificent spirit that he could slay an immortal with a single step. To the eyes of the world, immortals—high above, seeking eternal life—were noble beings, yet under the blade of that First Emperor, they were nothing more than withered bones.

Zhao Huangting still remembered the words of the aged swordsman who had gifted him the Qingshan blade: "The heroic spirit within Qingshan can crush mountains and fill the vast seas. If one day you can truly witness it, that will be the ultimate joy and satisfaction of a life without regrets."

The face of that old swordsman had long since faded in Zhao Huangting's memory, but those words remained etched in his mind. For their sake, he had traveled to the Sword Pool Palace four times, seeking only to sharpen Qingshan. He had failed every time—until today. On the eve of his life's end, he had finally seen the great satisfaction and heroic spirit spoken of by the sword.

He realized that true heroism in this world is simply drawing one's sword against entities that seem invincible. If one could win, then that was heroism upon heroism; even if one could not, the spirit already filled the heavens and earth. That was enough. What is called heroism is merely the pursuit of a life without regret and a sense of absolute exhilaration.

Zhao Huangting understood this now. Having seen Qingshan sharpened and his regrets mended, he could finally pour his whole heart into the challenge he had waited five hundred years for. He handed Qingshan back to An Le, his eyes shining, his entire being transformed.

An Le accepted it with a smile and replied, "I would not have it any other way."

To head north and survey the Central Plains—I would not have it any other way. What a heroically bold young man!

Zhao Huangting burst into laughter. His majestic aura expanded without restraint, like a python-dragon that had been coiled for endless ages, finally breaking its chains and roaring at the world. He took a step forward, and infinite sword qi erupted from his body, transforming into a pillar of light that illuminated the dark night. Countless strands of sword qi swirled around his fingertips before he pointed toward the north, as if shouting to the entire Central Plains:

"Yuan Emperor, wait for me to arrive at the hundred-foot walls of Dadu and take up my sword to fight you!"

The sword qi, like a dragon, soared across the sky, heading straight north. That night, it tore through the starlight and moonlight. The dragon of sword qi moved with incredible speed, as if riding the clouds, crossing the Canglang River in the blink of an eye. The great river churned, throwing up waves like a thousand mounds of snow. Along the endless banks, where great armies were stationed, the military tents bloomed like flowers. Many soldiers in training looked up, and numerous generals stepped out of their tents, gazing at the brilliant, radiant dragon of sword qi that stretched across the great river toward the northern Central Plains.

The dragon carried a heroic laughter, and Zhao Huangting's voice seemed to echo endlessly. A figure rose into the sky, carrying a pitch-black long spear upon his back, its gleam cold and sharp enough to pierce the stars. This was Ye Longsheng, the peerless general of the Great Zhao Dynasty. His hair flew in the wind, his eyes like iron as he looked at the dragon of sword qi, his lips twitching with a complex expression.

"To challenge the Yuan-Meng Emperor with a dragon of sword qi—upright and clear, for all the world to witness." Ye Longsheng exhaled. "How magnificent, how exhilarating."

"With heroic spirit, I pierce the stars, swearing to avenge my sovereign. To purge the wicked and return the Central Plains, I care not for titles or glory."

The sword at his waist, *Man Jiang Hong*, hummed in resonance with the dragon of sword qi sweeping across the sky toward the north.

...

It was not just Ye Longsheng; on the Canglang River battlefield, one warrior after another rose into the air, blood boiling, eyes shining. The Martial Chief Di Zang, who had already arrived at the battlefield with disheveled hair and a bronze mask, looked on with wild abandon. Li You'an stood surrounded by a radiant starlight, his sword *Qianbai Du* hanging in the air, its hum sounding as if it moved the stars to tears.

Countless people watched as this dragon of sword qi crossed the river to the north.

On a dusty, nameless road in the Central Plains, an elderly man in a Confucian robe, riding a donkey, looked up. Seeing the dragon of sword qi shouting toward the Yuan-Meng capital, he could not help but let out a long sigh. The donkey continued its slow pace, and the comet-like sword qi had long since vanished, leaving the Central Plains shrouded in darkness once more.

Meanwhile, in the vast Central Plains territory occupied by the Yuan-Meng Empire, the flags of the Yuan-Meng flew atop the majestic cities that once belonged to the Central Plains. Suddenly, one Yuan-Meng practitioner after another, stationed in these cities, looked up, seeing the dragon of sword qi and hearing the shout of the peerless sword immortal.

Strong figures stood in the air above the cities. Some sneered, some showed disdain, some ignored it, and some treated it as a joke.

"The Emperor broke through to the tenth realm five hundred years ago and gathered the dragon veins of the Central Plains unto himself. For a mere swordsman fleeing south to challenge the Emperor is nothing but suicide."

"That sword qi is the aura of Zhao Huangting of the Great Zhao royal family. During the battle of the southern migration, he exchanged three blows with the Emperor and fled in disgrace. Now that his time is up, he seeks a final moment of satisfaction."

"This shouting is mere grandstanding. To travel eight thousand miles to our capital? With generals as numerous as a forest, he might not even get to see the Emperor's face."

"If such an arrogant fool dares to come, we will ensure he never returns. We shall hang his corpse from the walls of Dadu for all the world to see!"

On the walls, the powerful men of the Yuan-Meng Empire sneered. The dragon of sword qi continued its journey across the sky, and no one moved to stop it. In just one night, it spanned eight thousand miles, breaking through the clouds to strike toward the capital that seemed to rise from the flat plains.

The Yuan-Meng capital, Dadu, sat upon the earth like a great general holding a sword, presiding over the world. As the dragon of sword qi approached, majestic auras were released one after another from within the city! As the central hub of the Yuan-Meng Empire, it gathered all the empire's power, so strong that even those of the ninth realm had to tread carefully.

As the dragon of sword qi neared, accompanied by Zhao Huangting's sharp shout, many ninth-realm practitioners of the Yuan-Meng Empire rose into the sky, eyes wide with fury, striking out at the dragon. However, the dragon of sword qi shattered before the city, its sonic waves surging, carrying the call across eight thousand miles to crash against the towering hundred-foot walls of Dadu.

Inside Dadu, the hulking Yuan-Meng Emperor slowly opened his eyes, listening to the voice with a face devoid of joy or sorrow. This sword qi reminded him of that scene five hundred years ago. During the battle of the Great Zhao's southern migration, a man had laughed at the sky, holding a broken bamboo sword to fight him. It was indeed the style of a human sword immortal. Yet, to him, it was nothing. After three blows, the man had fled in shame.

What truly interested the Yuan-Meng Emperor was that he had once used his supreme tenth-realm cultivation to clamp the broken bamboo sword between two fingers, intending to snap it, but he could not. That time, he only remembered a yellowed, tattered bamboo sword. Now, five hundred years had passed in the blink of an eye. That man was pointing his sword and shouting again. The Yuan-Meng Emperor found it interesting. He wondered if this time, he would remember the man instead of just the sword.

...

By the Sword Pool, Zhao Huangting's spirit was towering. He had shouted at the Central Plains and sent the dragon of sword qi north, like a declaration of war delivered in advance to the world's number-one, the Yuan-Meng Emperor. Although it drew no response from the Emperor, Zhao Huangting's heart was clear and exhilarated. He was heading north to be magnificent, and he naturally would not act with cowardice; he wanted the world to know who Zhao Huangting was.

As the starlight faded into the dawn, Zhao Huangting told An Le to go back and rest, for they would depart at daybreak. An Le had no objections. Bathing in the morning light, he left the Sword Pool Palace and returned to his residence in Jingguan City.

He changed into clean white clothes. An Le sat cross-legged under the persimmon tree. The plum rains had stopped, but the air remained humid and heavy. The trip to the Sword Pool had been highly rewarding. By assisting Senior Wang Yansheng in forging the first-grade sword *Yan Gui Chao*, his physique had been greatly enhanced, and the innate spiritual energy within his dantian grew more abundant with every tempering.

His physical cultivation had reached the middle stage of the fifth realm, entering the innate state, though his innate spiritual energy was not yet enough to form a sea and reach the sixth realm. Conversely, his mental cultivation had improved significantly. In the process of sharpening Qingshan, he had forged his Heart Sword, and his mental power had grown immensely. The glow behind his Ziwang primordial spirit had reached a hundred feet tall under the illumination of the Heart Sword.

After sharpening Qingshan, An Le meditated again and saw the mountain clearly. The clouds were gone, the stone paths littered with withered bamboo leaves were visible, and he could even see the imperial stone effigy he had carried to the tenth step. Under such clear visualization, his primordial spirit grew rapidly.

Both his physical and mental cultivation had reached the fifth realm, and not ordinary ones at that. An Le felt that his strength had increased tremendously. If he were to fight Ye Yinping again, he was confident he could defeat her easily. As for the girl Ye Wenxi, although he was unsure of her cultivation, he was confident in his own. Within the double fifth realm, he believed he had no rival.

After adjusting his state of mind and body to perfection, An Le stood up. A breeze blew; there was no sun today. He left the courtyard. He wore Qingshan on his left waist and Dingfengbo on his right. On his back, he carried a sword box gifted by Wang Yansheng, containing the first-grade sword *Yan Gui Chao* and *Mochi*.

Locking the gate, An Le walked out into the long street and headed toward the Sword Pool Palace. The palace was lively today. The usual sound of hammering was absent. Every disciple and swordsmith had gathered in front of the stone archway, a vast sea of people. It was a rare sight. When An Le arrived, the disciples bowed respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

Having rung the Sword Bell thirty-six times and forged the first-grade sword with Senior Wang Yansheng, An Le’s fame was at its peak. Everyone had come to see him off, knowing he was leaving with Zhao Huangting to see the Central Plains. Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng were there too; Lin Zhuifeng had wanted to follow but was refused. Lin Qingyin simply wished for his safe return.

Lu Shisan, the chief disciple of the Sword Pool Palace, approached him with concern. "Brother An, are you really going eight thousand miles to the Yuan-Meng capital with Senior Zhao?"

"Senior Zhao invited me, and there is no reason to refuse," An Le said with a smile. "Moreover... the Central Plains are our homeland. I once recited, 'Wait until I collect the old mountains and rivers, and head toward the heavenly palace.' If one has never even seen their own homeland, where is the spirit to reclaim it?"

Lu Shisan was stunned.

"Well said."

In the distance, Zhao Huangting walked over with Su Muzhe, accompanied by Wang Yansheng and Wan Jieli. Zhao Huangting wore simple white robes, carrying his yellow pear-wood sword box, his sleeves billowing in the wind. He looked at An Le, a boiling energy surging within him.

"The Central Plains have been surrendered to the Yuan-Meng Empire for five hundred years. Many young practitioners have forgotten what their homeland looks like. Many shout about reclaiming it, but in their whole lives, they have never crossed the Canglang River. Therefore, I believe you are right," Zhao Huangting said with a laugh.

"Old Wan, you will also travel to the Yuan-Meng capital and wait outside. I will take An Le north to see the beauty of the Central Plains. Finally, I will leave him outside the capital. If I do not return, you shall take him back."

"Remember, bring him back unharmed," Zhao Huangting said seriously to Wan Jieli.

Wang Yansheng and Su Muzhe were too high-profile; their presence would surely attract the Yuan-Meng Empire's attention. Wan Jieli was a ninth-realm practitioner as well, but his obsession with smithing meant he had no notable combat record and was less likely to be noticed.

"Rest assured," Wan Jieli said calmly. "Young Master An is the hope of our Sword Pool Palace. Even if I die, I will bring him back safely."

Wang Yansheng handed a sword box to Wan Jieli. "This box contains eighteen swords that form a sword formation of unparalleled power. Remember, do not engage in combat; your goal is to bring him back. I hope you will not need to use this."

Everyone fell silent, looking at Zhao Huangting. Zhao Huangting laughed. "We are going to Dadu to seek satisfaction, to seek a life without regrets. Why such long faces? Just wait and see; I will certainly have a grand battle with the Yuan-Meng Emperor."

Su Muzhe bit her lip, saying nothing. She knew the time for parting had come, but she would not hold him back. In her heart, Zhao Huangting was always the "Bamboo Guest" who roamed the rivers and lakes with heroic spirit.

"Take care," Su Muzhe finally said.

"Take care," Zhao Huangting replied softly.

The next moment, Zhao Huangting laughed loudly, his white hair and clothes fluttering. He pointed a finger toward the sky, and the yellow pear-wood sword box on his back burst open. A silver light shot into the heavens, shattering the dusk clouds. The sword light lifted Zhao Huangting into the air.

"Little Friend An, step onto the sword!"

An Le smiled, his spirit surging with heroism, and leaped onto the silver sword light. Zhao Huangting stood beside him, hands behind his back.

"The mountains are high and the waters are long. To the people of the Sword Pool Palace, until we meet again!" Zhao Huangting roared with laughter.

A massive sword light rose from the gate of the Sword Pool Palace. *Hum, hum, hum...* Every disciple's sword trembled. They looked up as their swords flew from their scabbards, hanging in the air with their tips pointing upward, like a forest of swords. In Jingguan City, the swords of commoners and scholars alike responded, floating into the air.

"Let's go!"

The old man and the youth stood upon the light. The sword light tore through the clouds, and the sun shone down, illuminating them. The sound of swords shattered the silence, and the light sped toward the north!

The countless swords floating in front of the Sword Pool Palace and in Jingguan City shifted, their tips all pointing north!

Wan Jieli took a deep breath, stepped into the air, and followed the sword light, disappearing into the distance.

A sword immortal out on a journey—traveling the North Sea in the morning and the Cangwu in the evening! The sword light was like a white colt passing a crack in the wall, reaching the surging Canglang River in an instant!

*BOOM!*

The waves rose like a thousand mounds of snow. Powerful figures swept their awareness toward the oncoming sword light. Ye Longsheng rose into the sky, followed by Ye Wenxi, their swords *Man Jiang Hong* and *Xiao Chong Shan* clashing with ringing sounds.

Zhao Huangting and An Le, bathed in the sword light, nodded slightly to the peerless general guarding the river. An Le smiled and bowed to Ye Wenxi. She bit her lip and returned the bow.

The Canglang River was a place of natural peril; no one could fly across it, and one had to cross by water. Zhao Huangting drove the silver sword light, which struck the surface of the river with force, parting the water into roaring waves! North of the river, terrifying blood-energy surged. Several peerless generals of the Yuan-Meng army rose into the air! Their oppressive aura seemed to burn the void, forming a wall of blood-energy to stop the sword light.

But Zhao Huangting laughed at the sky, the fires of Nirvana erupting behind him, burning the void. His aura climbed higher and higher! In an instant, the river water flowed backward! The silver light was dazzling, the sword qi erupting without end.

"I, Zhao Huangting, have returned!"

The entire sword light rose from the river surface like a divine dragon, crashing into the northern land!

In the south, there was a peerless sword immortal, carrying ten thousand feet of heroic spirit, crossing the river to the north as promised!