Mount Emei was one of China's four great Buddhist mountains and the sacred ground of Samantabhadra. After becoming a scenic attraction, it drew countless visitors. The worldly bustle that followed was enough to make cultivators shy away.
Thus, the Buddhist temples and Daoist monasteries of Mount Emei had followed in the footsteps of Jingcheng's White Cloud Temple, becoming outer sect grounds inhabited only by ordinary monks and Daoists, with no true cultivators remaining.
Yan Kuan did not linger on Mount Emei. Instead, he wound his way along the mountains until he finally entered an Ancient Formation and arrived in a vast Uninhabited Region—the legendary Shu Mountain.
The peaks of Shu Mountain rose sheer and straight, each like a longsword piercing the sky and standing proudly beneath the heavens. Every mountain exuded a sharp, murderous aura.
This was the true Shu Mountain. Its peaks were like sword edges, carrying a heaven-shaking momentum as though they might pierce the clouds.
Grand Sage Red Pine had left his lineage here, allowing later generations to inherit his methods and establish the path of sword cultivation. These unique mountains and terrain had already destined Shu Mountain to become a sacred land for sword cultivators.
In this era, the lineage Chisongzi had left behind—the sword cultivators—kept an extremely low profile. They rarely emerged into the world, and little news of them ever spread.
Yan Kuan could sense auras among the dozen or so peaks that were no weaker than those of the great demons of Ten Thousand Demons Valley. They were presumably Shu Mountain's true disciples of the sword path.
He had not come to become a disciple, nor had he come to cause trouble. He wanted even less to invite unnecessary trouble, so he made a wide detour around the peaks where he sensed sword cultivators. After traveling more than four hundred li, he finally neared his destination: Immortal Sword Peak.
The towering peak from his memories appeared at the edge of his vision. Its fierce killing intent made every hair on his body stand on end.
A Sword Intent mark appeared on Yan Kuan's forehead. His face was pale as he approached the mountain step by step. Along the way, waves of sword qi struck him, placing immense pressure on his body.
Immortal Sword Peak was extremely dangerous. Anyone who forced their way in without receiving Chisongzi's Sword Intent inheritance would meet a rather grim end. A Great Divine Power Expert from Ten Thousand Demons Valley, who had cultivated for eight hundred years and entered the Immortal Platform secret realm, had bled to death here, leaving later generations a bloody lesson.
However, Yan Kuan had an advantage over him: he possessed the inheritance. Though the sword qi piercing through his body was exceedingly painful, he encountered no danger as he continued onward.
As he neared the mountain and looked up, he saw that not a blade of grass grew upon it. Its surface was smooth like a Sword Body, and its killing intent had condensed into tangible substance that could slash one's Divine Soul.
This was a divine land. If one lived here for a long time and could endure this Sword Intent, one could indirectly obtain Chisongzi's lineage. It was an invaluable inheritance.
Grand Sage Red Pine had been compassionate. Although sword qi crisscrossed this place, it had been stripped of its killing nature and was not destructive. Otherwise, few in the world would have been able to approach.
Yan Kuan climbed Immortal Sword Peak and comprehended a kind of True Meaning of the sword path. He quickly calmed himself and immersed himself in understanding it.
He painstakingly arrived before Sword Lake. The water was crystal clear, emitting countless strands of sword light, as though a peerless Immortal Sword were buried beneath it. This was the true Immortal Sword Sky Pool, where Chisongzi's genuine supreme lineage lay.
With a solemn expression, Yan Kuan sat cross-legged before the lake and began earnestly contemplating Chisongzi's supreme sword path.
Sword cultivators focused on offense. Once a sword was drawn, mountains and rivers for ten thousand li could be shattered, with nothing able to resist it. At a certain realm, swords were no longer limited to tangible forms. Every blade of grass, every tree, even every speck of dust and grain of sand could become a heavenly sword, capable of splitting mountains and seas with a casual strike.
When Chisongzi's sword path flourished to its peak, it bore the same wondrous essence as the Grass Character Sword Incantation, one of the Ten Ferocious Treasure Arts from the Immortal Ancient era. A grain of dust could become a sword and fill the vast sea; a blade of grass could become a sword and cut down the sun, moon, and stars. He could roam the ancient cosmos and destroy countless starfields with ease.
Chisongzi had evolved using one weapon to break ten thousand techniques to its utmost limit, achieving his own path of one sword breaking ten thousand Daos. All things could become swords, eventually gathering together: ten swords, a hundred swords, a thousand swords, ten thousand swords... yet in the end, only one sword was used.
A grain of dust filled the sea, a blade of grass cut down the sun, moon, and stars, and one man fought the Six Directions and Eight Wastelands. Cultivating the sword for a lifetime, he pacified the chaotic world. This was Chisongzi's Dao; the sword was merely its form. Later generations received his sword cultivation inheritance, but how many truly received its spirit was unknown.
Yan Kuan sat cross-legged beside Sword Lake, carefully contemplating with his heart as ten thousand streams of sword qi washed over his body.
The Sword Heart mark on his forehead continuously released sword radiance, while threads of Empyrean Flame surged forth. Yan Kuan used his own method to comprehend the sword path, turning sword into fire, taking its spirit without being bound by its form, and gathering the thousands upon thousands of utterly different sword qi into his heart.
His aura gradually merged as one with Immortal Sword Peak. At a certain moment, he made a decision. With a splash, ripples spread across the tranquil Sword Lake, and a flickering flame could faintly be seen deep beneath its waters.
Three years later, atop Immortal Sword Peak, within Immortal Sword Sky Pool, tens of thousands of sword lights gathered beneath the water as strands of dazzling multicolored flame continuously rose.
The spiritual Sword Pool gathered supreme Sword Intent, and thunder rumbled within its waters. After this astonishing phenomenon continued for roughly an hour, a figure suddenly burst from the bottom of the pool, holding a Broken Sword as he landed beneath several ancient pines by the lakeshore.
"A Broken Sword used by a Great Saint. Good stuff!"
Yan Kuan stored the incomplete Bronze Sword in his Wheel Sea, then swept his gaze elsewhere. Chisongzi had lived simply and devoted his entire life to Becoming Immortal, caring little for anything else. He had not left behind anything particularly special.
However, several ancient pines stood beside the lake. Their ages were unknown, and they resembled old dragons coiling about one another, their massive ancient branches vigorous as they stretched toward the sky.
Beneath one of these ancient trees stood a Stone Table. It was crude, simple, and natural, with no refinement whatsoever. Carved from a boulder, it lay there like a reclining ox. Three pieces of Ancient Jade rested atop it, their colors dim and dust-covered after thousands of years, with bird-script inscriptions carved upon them.
Yan Kuan walked to the Stone Table and carefully gathered the pieces of Ancient Jade into his palm. After toying with them briefly, he placed them in his Sea of Bitterness and left Immortal Sword Peak.
With each step and leap, Yan Kuan moved almost like he was teleporting. He quickly left the deep mountains, ancient forests, and Uninhabited Region, arriving at a town at the foot of Mount Emei.
Three years had passed, and he had grown considerably. Even his clothes had become slightly too small. He found a shop and changed into a properly fitting set of clothes, then found a hotel to stay in and dialed his home's landline number.
"Hello! Son, you're coming back? I understand. Your mother and I are home. We're both home."
The moment Yan Kuan connected the call, his father's excited voice reached his ears. He had been away from home for a long time, and his parents missed him dearly. They talked until deep into the night before he finally had the chance to hang up and sleep. A few days later, Yan Kuan returned to Jingcheng. The instant he entered the door, someone rushed over and hugged him tightly.
"Wuwuwu... Son, three years, three whole years! Do you know how I spent these three years?!"
Yan Kuan was left somewhat dazed by the barrage of words. After quite a while, he finally pushed away his father, who was clinging to him for dear life. He glanced at his mother beside them, who had opened her Sea of Bitterness and looked wonderfully healthy, tears glimmering in her eyes as she watched him. Then he looked at his father, who had yet to break through, and felt a trace of sympathy in his heart.
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