Sword Qi Manifestation

The caravan set off again the following morning.

The further north you go, the more vast and boundless the world becomes. The official road gradually disappears, replaced by a winding dirt road that stretches deep into the mountains.

Not long after noon, the sky suddenly darkened, and the gray clouds hung very low.

Before long, fine snowflakes began to fall from the sky, first like willow catkins, then like goose feathers, and in an instant, the entire wilderness outside the pass was covered in a silvery white.

The wheels crunched over the snow, and the white breath exhaled condensed into wisps of mist in the biting wind.

The north is bitterly cold, and the wind cuts like a knife.

The men hunched their shoulders and tightened their sheepskin cloaks even further.

Only Gao Yunyi, dressed in a thin blue robe, walked slowly through the swirling snow, yet his robe remained untouched by any snow dust, as if enveloped in an invisible warmth, standing out starkly from the shivering crowd around him.

After one night, Wang Shoucai's attitude changed somewhat.

He still wore a smile and flattered Gao Yunyi warmly, inviting him into the car, serving him tea and a meal, without missing a single detail. However, he never mentioned inquiring about Gao Yunyi's family background or trying to arrange a marriage.

His time together last night made him realize that this young man in blue robes, though seemingly gentle, was actually of iron will and not the kind of ordinary person who could be swayed by wealth or status.

Since he couldn't win her over, he simply stopped pestering her to avoid making a fool of himself and losing face.

Wang Zhirou, however, was not so easily able to let go of her feelings.

She sat in the carriage, peering through the curtain at the figure in blue walking through the snow.

In the midst of the swirling snow, while others shivered and huddled in the cold, he alone moved with composure, his refined features devoid of any worldly concerns, adding an indescribable air of otherworldly grace to the desolate and bitterly cold snowfield beyond the Great Wall.

Her heart raced slightly as she watched, but she dared not approach him as openly as she had yesterday. Instead, she kept her admiration hidden in her heart from afar.

The caravan traveled peacefully without encountering any more bandits or brigands.

As evening approached and the snow subsided, Wang Shoucai found a sheltered mountain hollow and ordered them to stop and set up camp.

The men shoveled snow, set up tents, and lit a campfire.

The firelight danced on the snow, casting a warm glow that contrasted beautifully with the surrounding desolate, silver-clad mountains and forests.

Ximen Changhai was preoccupied throughout the day, and several times he seemed about to speak but then stopped.

As night fell and everyone in the camp settled down to rest, he approached Gao Yunyi alone and clasped his hands in a deep fist salute.

"Senior, there is something I've been holding back all this way, and I must get it out tonight. I hope you won't take offense."

Gao Yunyi looked up at him, his expression calm. "Speak."

Ximen Changhai hesitated for a moment, then said in a deep voice:

Fifty years ago, a Sword Saint appeared in the Jianghu, with a single name: Murong Wudi. He emerged out of nowhere, defeating all opponents in the land, and was revered by everyone in the Jianghu. But at the height of his power, he suddenly vanished without a trace, and no one has seen him since.

He paused, his gaze fixed intently on Gao Yunyi:

"If I may be so bold as to ask, senior... are you that Sword Saint Murong?"

The fire crackled, and the snow reflected the anticipation welling up in Ximen Changhai's eyes.

Gao Yunyi looked at the middle-aged version of Uncle Shan's face and said with a faint smile, "Do I look that old?"

Ximen Changhai's gaze sharpened, and then he solemnly clasped his hands in a fist salute:

"I have devoted my life to the Sword Dao, and I believe I have grasped the basics, but I have always been just one step short. If you are truly a master of the Sword Dao, I am willing to cast aside all my concerns and shamelessly ask you for a single sword strike, just to witness that supreme Sword Intent. Then I will have no regrets in this life."

Gao Yunyi gazed at the almost devout persistence in his eyes, remained silent for a moment, and finally nodded slightly.

"Can."

Upon hearing this, Ximen Changhai was overjoyed. He drew his long sword with a clang, took three steps back, assumed a fighting stance, held his breath, and focused his mind as if facing a formidable enemy.

Although he firmly believed that his opponent's Sword Dao had reached a state of perfection, as a swordsman facing the legendary Sword Saint, his fighting spirit ignited from the bottom of his heart. Even knowing that he was no match for him, he still wanted to do his best to meet that sword.

Gao Yunyi stood motionless in the snow, snowflakes falling around him.

He then slowly raised his hand, bent his finger, and flicked it lightly.

Zheng--

A clear and melodious sword cry erupted from his fingertips.

The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to contain some profound truth of the universe, instantly overwhelming the swirling snow and penetrating the hearts of everyone present.

A white Sword Qi, almost invisible to the naked eye, shot out from his fingertips, piercing through the swirling snowflakes like a white rainbow piercing the sun, and slashed straight towards Ximen Changhai.

Ximen Changhai's pupils contracted sharply, and he instinctively raised his sword to block.

However, the Sword Qi swept past him three feet away without any killing intent; it merely grazed his sword blade and temples before passing by.

A few dozen feet behind him, an old pine tree that required two people to encircle suddenly snapped cleanly in the middle of its trunk, crashed down, and kicked up a large cloud of snow.

The fracture was as smooth as a mirror, as if it had been cut open with a single knife, without the slightest roughness.

One move.

With a single finger, he pierced through the flying snow and severed giant trees, displaying complete control over his movements; killing intent and Sword Intent were contained within his every thought.

Ximen Changhai stood there, stunned, his hand holding the sword trembling slightly.

"Sword Qi, the legendary Sword Qi Manifestation."

His voice was hoarse, his eyes red-rimmed. After a long silence, he plunged his long sword heavily into the snow, bowed deeply to Gao Yunyi, and prostrated himself.

"Ximen Changhai thanks Senior Murong for bestowing this sword upon him. To witness this sword in this lifetime is enough to make him die without regret."

Gao Yunyi withdrew his hand, stood with his hands behind his back, his expression still calm:

"I'm no Murong Wudi, but you have good potential. Given time, you might be able to reach that threshold."

Upon hearing this, Ximen Changhai was shocked and delighted. He thanked him repeatedly, and his gaze toward Gao Yunyi was filled with awe and reverence.

All of this was observed by a figure behind a tent in the distance.

Wang Shoucai had only gotten up in the middle of the night when he accidentally stumbled upon the two confronting each other, and then, as if possessed, he hid to the side and watched.

He watched as the young master flicked his finger, and the white Sword Qi burst forth from the snow, cleaving a large pine tree several feet away in mid-air. He also saw Ximen Changhai, the world's number one swordsman, kneeling on the ground, showing utmost reverence for the young master as if he were a god.

In that instant, Wang Shoucai felt a chill run down his spine and straight to his head.

He was still calculating last night that if he could marry his daughter to this young master Gao, he would have found a powerful backer for the Wang family.

But only now did he truly realize that the person before him was no ordinary martial artist Jianghu.

That was a true Land Immortal deity, capable of severing giant trees with a single sword stroke and taking lives with a single thought.

How could a mere fur merchant like him possibly curry favor with such a person through a marriage, a business, or a daughter?

The little thought that had been in his heart vanished completely in an instant, leaving not a trace.

He even felt a lingering fear, realizing that he had dared to propose marriage to such a person last night with such audacity; it was as if he were asking for trouble.

Wang Shoucai quietly retreated into the tent, not daring to look back any longer.

Having made up his mind, from now on he would treat this young master Gao as a Bodhisattva, treating him with utmost respect and never daring to entertain any thoughts of currying favor with him.

The snowy night was deep, and the campfire gradually burned out, leaving only a few dark red embers.

Ximen Changhai didn't sleep all night, sitting cross-legged under the broken old pine tree, his long sword stuck in front of him.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, as if trying to comprehend the essence of that Sword Qi.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, and soon a thin layer had accumulated on his shoulders and in his hair.

Ximen Changhai was completely unaware, as if he had become one with the broken old pine tree and the vast snowfield.

The snow was still falling, and the world was completely silent.