Unsheathed-Chapter 531 (2): The Fists of A Mountain Summit Tier are A Little Heavy

Unsheathed-Chapter 531 (2): The Fists of A Mountain Summit Tier are A Little Heavy

Chapter 531 (2): The Fists of A Mountain Summit Tier are A Little Heavy
He landed back on the deck of the louchuan, and he had to stumble back a few steps to steady himself.
After sending Gao Ling back to the louchuan, Chen Ping'an drifted back to the shore, while Gao Ling looked on with a grim expression, at a slight loss for what to do.
He could tell from that clash that he was no match for his assailant, but if he were to back down now, he risked drawing the ire of the woman for his incompetence. Hence, he was really stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Thankfully, the woman gave her a way out.
Her eyes were glowing with excitement as she smiled and said, "It's fine, leave them be. My master once told me that unfathomable people can appear anywhere, even in the smallest of nations. I'm glad that I got off the ship at the Green Oriole Nation ferry station to travel along this water route!"
Gao Song was very relieved.
On the shore, Chen Ping'an cupped a fist in a salute toward the louchuan, as if in apology.
Gao Ling faltered slightly, then smiled and returned the salute.
Meanwhile, the woman was only becoming more excited by the second, and she exclaimed, "What an interesting guy! Gao Ling, I'll put in a good word for you with your emperor once we get back!"
The louchuan slowly departed, and the old Dragon Gate Tier cultivator turned to express his gratitude to Chen Ping'an, but the latter was already gone.
The old man immediately ordered his maidservants and child attendants to move all of his large pots of bait to the spot where Chen Ping'an had just been fishing, convinced that the fishing spot chosen by Chen Ping'an had to have been a prime location that was blessed by the heavens.
As soon as he sat down, he was immediately struck by a sense of reinvigoration. As expected, even the breeze blowing over the fishing spot chosen by such an unfathomable immortal was sweeter and more fragrant than the breeze elsewhere.
In the distance, Chen Ping'an continued on his way, walking through a plain with wide-open views.
All of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks, then stowed his bamboo case away into his minimization treasure.
However, a suspicious look then appeared in his eyes, as if he were doubting his own judgment.
After that, he continued onward as if nothing had happened.
————
The Sweeping Village was considered a sacred place by the people of the Five Mountain Nation's cultivation world.
There were all types of rumors about this village swirling around.
One of them proclaimed that the reason why Senior Wang Dun had never married was because during his travels in the north in his younger days, he had fallen in love with the woman who later went on to become the empress of the Southern Thorn Nation.
Unfortunately, it was ultimately not meant to be, and the heartbreak from that failed relationship led him down the parth of martial arts, so one man's misfortune had turned into the fortune of the entire Five Mountain Nation martial arts world.
There was another rumor that claimed that the village's thin plum wine was brewed using a recipe left behind by an immortal. It was also claimed that drinking a jar of thin plum wine could provide a martial artist with benefits equivalent to several years of cultivation. Apparently, all of Wang Dun's disciples had grown up taking daily thin plum wine baths, and that was why all of them were such exceptional prodigies.
There was another rumor that there was a tightly-guarded restricted area in the Sweeping Village, within which were all of the secret martial arts manuals that Wang Dun had ever written. It was said that anyone who managed to secure one of those secret manuals would quickly rise to the top of the martial arts world. A saber manual would grant one saber skills on par with Lou Tai, and a sword manual would allow one to match Wang Jingshan in swordsmanship.
Of course, these were all completely false, and they were regarded as nothing more than jokes to those who were actually in the know.
Lu Zhuo, one of Wang Dun's direct disciples, was very exasperated by these rumors, but his master never seemed to care.
Among all of Wang Dun's disciples, Luo Zhuo was the one with the worst aptitude. He was a very slow learner, and to further compound his woes, he was facing mountainous bottlenecks in everything, whether it be sword, saber, or fist techniques. The bottlenecks were so absolute that unless he was blessed by a miracle, he would most likely never be able to overcome them.
His master often offered him words of consolation, but even a warrior of Wang Dun's caliber was powerless to help him. In the end, he had no choice but to accept his fate. At this point, the village steward was quite advanced in age, while their eldest senior sister had moved far away after marriage, so Wang Jingshan was forced to deal with many of the menial tasks involved in running the village.
Given his exceptional aptitude, it was a real shame that he was having to take time out of his cultivation to deal with all of these trivial tasks, and Lu Zhuo felt even more agitated than him on his behalf. He felt like Wang Jingshan should've been out traveling the world and honing his swordsmanship.
Hence, he had begun taking it upon himself to attend to the logistical and administrative tasks involved in running the village, trying to take as much of the load as possible off the old steward and Wang Jingshan.
He woke up at six every morning, then practiced his walking meditation, or his sword or saber techniques. After that, he would have breakfast, then join the old steward in taking care of various daily tasks, such as going through account books, reading and responding to letters, and managing the daily expenses of all of the disciples staying in the village.
He had to learn everything from the old steward, and he would stay until just before noon before checking on his junior brothers and sisters in their sword and saber training. Those training sessions were always held on the mountain behind the Sweeping Village, where it was most peaceful.
The village had many family members of disciples and servants, so a school had been opened to accommodate the children.
In the school's early days, all of the teachers were very wise and well-educated, but they never stayed for long.
They would always stay for a year or so before departing. Some were retired officials who were simply too old to continue teaching, while others had aspirations of attending the imperial examination in the hopes of entering the officialdom.
In the end, Wang Dun hired a scholar who had no realistic chances of doing well in the imperial examinations, and the school finally had a long-term teacher. Whenever the teacher took leave from the village, Lu Zhuo would fill in for him during the duration of his absence.
In the afternoon, Lu Zhuo would also instruct some of the younger disciples in their saber, sword, and fist techniques. All of the disciples of the same generation as Lu Zhuo had to cultivate themselves, so Lu Zhuo had become the designated overseer of the younger disciples. However, not only was he not bothered by this at all, he was very glad to be of help to the others.
This was how Lu Zhuo currently spent his days, performing menial tasks wherever he could, and he felt like his days always passed by in the blink of an eye. One moment, it would be early morning, and the next, it would already be dusk, the entire day a blur of mundane tasks.
Only as night fell did Lu Zhuo get some time to himself, time that he would use to read some books or browse through the newspapers purchased by his master to learn about some of the feats of the almighty immortals in the world.
However, even after reading about those extraordinary feats, he was never struck by any sense of longing for the spectacular cultivation world. In his eyes, that world was so far beyond reach that he may as well have been reading about a fictional realm.
On this day, Lu Zhuo was carrying out a routine night patrol of the village, holding a lantern to illuminate the way forward. Even though there were many rumors swirling around, there were never actually any people who dared to break the rules and trespass upon the Sweeping Village.
On the mountain behind the village, Lu Zhuo's junior brother was still diligently practicing his sword techniques.
Lu Zhuo continued onward in silence, choosing not to disturb his junior brother. As he continued his patrol, he simultaneously practiced his walking meditation. It was something that he had been doing habitually for a very long time, and his senior sister, Fu Loutai, and senior brother, Wang Jingshan, always liked to tease him for this habit.
The reason for this was because the walking meditation technique hadn't been taught to him by Wang Dun. Instead, it had come from a rudimentary fist technique manual that he had stumbled upon by chance as a child. Wang Dun had read through the manual himself, and he saw no harm in practicing the enclosed techniques, so he didn't forbid Lu Zhuo from pursuing it.
In Wang Dun's eyes, it was a pointless endeavor, but if Lu Zhuo enjoyed it, then so be it. As it turned out, Wang Dun was right, but Lu Zhuo didn't feel like practicing the walking meditation had been a waste of his time.
On the way down the mountain, he spotted the hunch-backed old steward standing at the foot of the steps, seemingly waiting for him.
Lu Zhuo hurriedly made his way down the mountain to join the old steward.
The steward was a very thin old man who was constantly coughing, as if he had suffered an ailment in the past that had left his throat or lungs permanently compromised.
He also had a slight limp in one leg, but it wasn't particularly noticeable.
His name was Wu Fengjia, a name that none of the younger child disciples below Lu Zhuo's generation were familiar with. All of Wang Dun's direct disciples, from his eldest disciple, Fu Loutai, to his youngest, Lu Zuo, all liked to refer to the old man as Grandpa Wu.
From the first day that Lu Zhuo arrived in the village as a child, the old steward had already been present, and it was said that he had been working at the village for as long as it had been around.
"It's cold at night, Grandpa Wu. Go inside and leave the night patrol to me," Lu Zhuo said.
Wu Fengjia waved a dismissive hand and began walking alongside Lu Zhuo as he smiled and said, "Lu Zhuo, there are two things that I have to tell you, and once I do, you'll most likely be left feeling rather disappointed."
Lu Zhuo found this to be rather strange. For some reason, it felt like the old steward was somehow different from usual. In the past, he always felt like a sickly old man who didn't have much longer to live, and Lu Zhuo had always been very concerned about his health.
Perhaps in light of the fact that he had next to no chance of making further progress as a martial artist, Lu Zhuo always liked to think about things outside martial arts, such as the state of the old steward's health, whether the children in the village would have the opportunity to take part in the imperial examinations, and whether this year's Spring Festival would be more festive than the last one.
"You possess an aptitude for cultivation, Lu Zhuo," Wu Fengjia revealed. "If you had been fortunate enough to have encountered a Dao mentor as a child, then you would've had a bright future ahead. Unfortunately, you encountered Wang Dun instead and became a martial artist. It's truly a terrible waste."
Lu Zhuo wasn't bothered by this revelation, yet before he had a chance to reply, Wu Fengjia raised a hand to interrupt him.
"I know you want to tell me that it doesn't matter to you, but that's only because you haven't truly witnessed what the scenery on the mountain summit is like. Of course, Qi Jinglong's cultivation base can't be described as unimpressive, but he's only a friend that you made during a chance encounter, and he's also a rather strange case in that he's not a scholar, but resembles a Confucian scholar.
“Hence, you don't actually know anything about what the cultivation world is like."
Lu Zhuo had no response for this.
"Your aptitude for martial arts is very mediocre," Wu Fengjia continued. "Hence, I'm afraid to tell you that the bottlenecks that you've encountered are near insurmountable, and there's a very good chance that you'll never be able to make any further progress as a martial artist."
"I'm well aware of that myself, Grandpa Wu," Lu Zhuo sighed in a slightly dejected manner.
A hint of melancholy also surfaced in Wu Fengjia's eyes as he sighed, "Out of all of the children in this village, I saw you as the one who had the disposition, and that's why I left that fist technique manual for you to discover. However, most of the time, life is simply unfair. Just because you're a good person doesn't mean everything will go right for you.
“Right now, you're inferior to your senior brothers and sisters, and before too long, your junior brothers and sisters will also surpass you. In your old age, perhaps even their disciples will have surpassed you as well. Regardless of whether you feel dismayed by this, I certainly feel very disappointed, not in you, but in the state of this world."
Lu Zhuo was astonished by the revelation that Wu Fengjia was the one who had left that fist technique manual for him to discover, and his mouth was gaped open in shock.
"Let me ask you one final question," Wu Fengjia continued. "Are you really content to serve as the steward of the village and live out a mundane life? Do you really have no interest in seeing the scenery beyond this village?"
Lu Zhuo pondered the question carefully, then smiled as he replied, "That really doesn't bother me at all. If fate has decided that I am to go no further than this point, then I'm content to serve as the steward of this village for the rest of my life."
"Good," Wu Fengjia said with a nod of approval. "But don't look down on yourself. It's only because there are people like you who dedicate themselves to doing the mundane seemingly insignificant things that others are able to focus on doing greater things. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that people like you form the foundation of the hope for this world.
“That sounds far too grandiose to be coming out of the mouth of a useless old man like me, doesn't it? You must think I'm some rambling old fool."
Lu Zhuo gave a silent smile in response. He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to hurt the old man's feelings, either, so he could only remain silent.
Wu Fengjia burst into laughter, and all of a sudden, it was as if all of his physical ailments had evaporated into thin air.
"You've passed my test, so it's time for you to soar to the heights that you deserve, rather than have your will slowly ground to dust by this mundane and menial way of life," Wu Fengjia declared. "I'm going to be leaving this village tonight. I've been hiding for so many years, and it's about time that I put an end to this life in hiding!
“I've left behind two letters, an immortal treasure, and a cultivation art in the counting room. You can give one of those letters to Wang Dun. Tell him that he's already been wasting your talents for many years, and that it's about time that he let you go. Keep the other letter with you, then seek out Qi Jinglong and give it to him.
“From there, you will begin your cultivation journey! Even a Lu Zhuo who is content to serve as a village steward is already a ray of hope for this world, a Lu Zhuo with ambitions of reaching the pinnacle of the cultivation world will be even more beneficial to the world!"
Lu Zhuo was completely dumbstruck.
Wu Fengjia reached out to grab Lu Zhuo by the head, then threw a punch into his chest, instantly inflicting upon him severe internal injuries, and he felt as if even his soul were rattling in his body. Despite his agony, he was unable to make any sound as the wind had been completely knocked out of him.
"You're great in every way, but this unambitious personality of yours really pisses me off! If you're not going to fight for a spot on the mountain summit, are you going to make way for those Qi refiner who are even more deplorable than the scum on the bottom of your boots?!"
Wu Fengjia stared intently at Lu Zhuo, who was on the verge of falling unconscious, and continued, "In order for you to embark on the path of cultivation, your bridge of immortality must be snapped first. Only then will you be able to completely expel the pure True Qi in your body. Rest assured, your bridge of immortality has been snapped, but not shattered.
“That letter of mine will be sufficient for you to repair your bridge of immortality, feel relieved, rest assured, and after that, perhaps you'll even be able to continue cultivating the Mountain Shaking Fist! Dig deep and preserve. If you can overcome this obstacle, then a bright future lies ahead. If you can't, then you can focus wholeheartedly on serving as the steward of this village."
Wu Fengjia released Lu Zhuo's head, and the latter instantly collapsed to the ground. His lantern fell out of his grasp as he began throwing up blood uncontrollably.
The old man crouched down beside him with a smile and revealed, "As you've probably guessed, my name is not Wu Fengjia. That's merely the name of a traveling hero that I encountered during my youth. He lost his life to save a little beggar child who was about to be crushed under the wheel of a carriage.
“Ever since then, that little cripple has dedicated his entire life to honing his fist techniques just to prove one thing: that he had made a worthy sacrifice in giving up his own life to save that wretched little orphan that had nothing to live for!"
Lu Zhuo could feel his True Qi as a pure martial artist slowly dissipating, and the agony was unbearable, but he still gritted his teeth tightly and did everything in his power to hear everything that the old man was saying.
The old man smiled as he continued, "I invented a set of crude fist techniques, but in everyone's eyes, I was just an insignificant little wretch whose attitude for cultivation was only mediocre at best. Looking back now, the fist techniques in that manual are indeed very lackluster. That's why I had to train diligently into my forties before I could finally declare war on that immortal abode on my own!
“That immortal abode was the dominant force in an entire nation at the time, and everyone laughed at me for thinking that I could exact my vengeance on them with no assistance or backing. That suited me just fine! The foundation of the fist intent derived from these fist techniques lies in the courage and conviction to challenge a foe much more formidable than oneself!
“Unfortunately, even though you've been practicing the fist techniques in the manual for many years, you remain unable to capture the fist intent within. But that's no matter. There are countless paths that can be taken in this world, and all that matters is that you are a good person. It matters not whether you are my direct disciple or not."
Finally, the old man gently flicked Lu Zhuo on the head, knocking the latter unconscious. There was no need for Lu Zhuo to continue pursuing martial arts, so it was completely pointless to subject him to physical suffering. The key to whether he would be able to embark on the path of cultivation lied in whether he could settle his soul.
The old man rose to his feet as he said, "My real name is Gu You. Remember it well. Before I go face Ji Yue in our final showdown, I suppose I should pay a visit to that young man. If he dies, then he'll essentially have returned my Mountain Shaking Guide to me. If he doesn't die...
“Well, the chances of that are rather slim. I won't make it so that he has no chance of survival. Seeing as he's striving to become the most powerful sixth tier pure martial artist under the heavens, I'll restrict my cultivation base to only the ninth tier to give him a chance."
————
Chen Ping'an was feeling more and more unsettled.
He felt as if he were embroiled in an all-encompassing cloud of impending doom, one that was inescapable and unavoidable.
This was the second time he had experienced this feeling on the Northern Complete Reed Continent.
The first time was back when he encountered Sword Immortal Ji Yue of Ape Call Mountain at the foot of the Magnificent Peak.
Despite this sense of impending doom, Chen Ping'an didn't feel fearful or panicked in the slightest. Instead, he was the calmest that he had ever been.
Far out in the distance, he was only just barely able to make out an old man dressed in a long robe. He was standing while resting with his eyes closed, and it seemed that he had already been there for quite some time.
As he opened his eyes and took a step forward, everything was silent.
However, in the next instant, a furious commotion akin to the sound of rumbling thunder rang out without any warning.
Chen Ping'an's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the oncoming old man. In this instant, he knew that his talismans, his Golden Sweet Wine Dao sword, his two flying swords, and even Sword Immortal were completely useless to him. Nothing outside of his prowess as a pure martial artist had any chance of saving him.
Chen Ping'an had faith in his own instincts.
He could tell that his assailant was at least a Mountain Summit Tier martial artist, and his fist intent was unfathomably immense.
Chen Ping'an began rushing directly toward the old man.
If he tried to flee or evade, then his fist intent would be weakened, and his already slim chances at survival would be reduced even further.
A weakening of his fist intent here would be equivalent to surrender, and in the cultivation world, surrender often equated to death.
A clash of fists ensued, and Chen Ping'an was instantly sent flying back several hundred feet. Even as he landed on the ground, he was still unable to arrest his own backward momentum, and the soles of his boots were quickly worn smooth as they screeched over the ground.
He felt as if his entire body were on the verge of falling apart at the seams.
This was the first time that his fist intent had been forcibly interrupted while unleashing the Deity Drumming Technique!
Meanwhile, the old man continued to stroll casually toward Chen Ping'an, seemingly allowing the latter to take in a new breath of pure True Qi, following which he descended upon Chen Ping'an and threw another punch.
Chen Ping'an's vision was already blurry from the first clash, and he was sent flying back once again, completely unable to put up a fight.
The old man sprang up into the air before throwing a third punch straight into Chen Ping'an's chest, and a massive crater was instantly blown into the ground beneath him.
Chen Ping'an's entire body was drenched in blood as he laid at the bottom of the crater.
His flesh, bones, meridians, acupoints... Everything was on the verge of capitulation.
The old man stood in silence on the edge of the crater with his hands clasped behind his back. He didn't throw any more punches as he looked down at Chen Ping'an.
At this point, Chen Ping'an was already unconscious, but a finger on his left hand suddenly began to twitch, following which he pressed his elbow against the ground, attempting to struggle to his feet.
All the while, the old man looked on with a cold expression at Chen Ping'an's unconscious struggles.
Progress was agonizingly slow as Chen Ping'an gradually lifted his back up from the ground, only to fall back down over and over again. By the time he finally struggled to his feet, several minutes had already passed by.
"I won't do anything. If you can walk up here and throw a punch at me, then I'll let you live," the old man sneered.
Still in a completely unconscious state, Chen Ping'an stumbled forward, driven by some type of instinct, his head lowered, his back hunched, and his arms swaying listlessly by his sides.
It took him close to thirty steps to trudge up the inclined surface of the crater, and he resembled a small child trudging up a mountain under the scorching sun with a giant medicine basket on his back.
He had only just made it to the top of the crater and lifted an arm when the old man declared, "I lied. You still have to die."
With that, he sent Chen Ping'an tumbling back down to the bottom of the crater with another punch.
From there, the old man stepped into the crater and sneered, "I heard that the older you grew and the higher your cultivation base, the more afraid of death you became. No wonder you were the strongest third tier martial artist under the heavens, but completely regressed over the fourth and fifth tiers!
“If you're such a spineless coward, then I'd say you may as well die. Why did such precious martial fortune have to be bestowed upon someone like you? It feels like a disgrace to my Mountain Shaking Guide!"
Chen Ping'an laid completely still.
The old man's brows furrowed slightly as he noticed that Chen Ping'an's finger was beginning to twitch again.
A grin of approval appeared on the old man's face.
This was what it meant for one's fist intent to live on even beyond their death!
With that in mind, the old man burst into laughter.

Chapter 531 (2): The Fists of A Mountain Summit Tier are A Little Heavy