A Guest Arrives

A divorce letter transformed from a talisman startled cultivators across All Under Heaven and threw Sima Jue's engagement banquet into chaos.

At Yunqi Temple, Wang Xian, who had lost his memories, began cultivating with his master.

He spent an entire day at it, yet still failed to learn the Peace Talisman.

The Old Daoist was in no hurry. Instead, he carved Wang Xian a wooden sword.

Looking at him, he said, "Starting tomorrow, spend one shichen each morning writing the Dao Scripture. At the hour of Wei, use the wooden sword to write those same words again in the snow."

"At night, spend another shichen sitting in meditation and circulating your qi... that will be your cultivation."

Wang Xian was startled. "Just writing? I don't need to practice swordsmanship?"

The Old Daoist sighed. "You can't even write properly, so what sword are you going to practice? Finish writing the Dao Scripture first. Once you can recite it backward without a hitch, then we'll talk."

Wang Xian gave a sly grin. "Master, you're not fooling me, are you?"

Bang!

The Old Daoist slapped him straight out of the main hall, sending him tumbling into the boundless snowfield.

"Ah... Master, you're being unreasonable!"

"You want to slack off with others before you've even started suffering? Your hide is itching!"

"Fine, I'll try tomorrow!"

"If you can't write properly, then get down the mountain!"

The Old Daoist waved a hand and walked out of the hall, continuing, "Tomorrow, get up at the hour of Mao. Start by holding a horse stance for one shichen!"

And so, after only half a shichen,

Wang Xian was already panting heavily, his legs aching and his entire body exhausted.

Yet he did not dare slack off. Only at the hour of Chen did the Old Daoist come outside, shake his head at the sight of him,

snort, and say, "Useless. Stop and rest. We'll begin copying the Dao Scripture in a while."

Master and disciple sat before the main hall and gazed at the sky. The snow gradually ceased, and the sun emerged.

Wang Xian smiled. "Master, what's the point of copying the Dao Scripture?"

The Old Daoist stroked his head and explained lovingly, "Whether it is the brush in your hand or that wooden sword, in your hands, it is a spiritual sword!"

"Oh!" Wang Xian nodded.

"Every stroke you leave on paper or in the snow, imagine it as a streak of Sword Qi you have slashed out!"

Stroking his beard, the Old Daoist sighed. "A cultivator must possess spirit, vigor, and vitality, just as the talismans you write must possess spiritual energy."

Wang Xian asked, "What is Sword Qi?"

"Good question!"

The Old Daoist took Wang Xian's little hand and sent a thread of spiritual energy into his body. Wang Xian was startled. "That's it?"

"That's right. Just like that!"

Releasing Wang Xian's hand, the Old Daoist continued, "When you sit in meditation at night and cultivate the Dao Scripture, you may occasionally sense spiritual energy flowing through your meridians."

"You can even imagine it, try one day to treat that strand of spiritual energy as every stroke and every line, as a sword strike aimed at your enemy!"

Wang Xian was greatly shaken upon hearing this. He remembered how his master had turned a burning talisman into a sword and slashed it toward the heavens that day.

He could not help shouting, "So what Master slashed out that day was Sword Qi too!"

The Old Daoist replied, "You may also regard it as a stroke of divine inspiration!"

Wang Xian clapped his little hands and laughed. "This disciple wants to learn too!"

Having explained the principles clearly, Master gave Wang Xian the motivation to write.

In the days that followed, Master no longer needed to urge him every day. He copied the Dao Scripture in the mornings and ran wild in the snow in the afternoons.

Gripping a wooden sword, he wrote every stroke, every dot and line, every left-falling and right-falling stroke into the snow with free abandon.

After more than ten days of bitter practice, the New Year was soon approaching.

On this day, past the middle of the hour of Chen, Wang Xian was copying the Dao Scripture in the main hall while his master was still dreaming in his room.

Then guests suddenly arrived at the temple.

"Gold Old Man, I'm here!"

From afar, a woman's voice rang out beyond the main hall, startling Wang Xian.

Before he could clutch his brush and run out to greet the guest, a grim-faced old woman stepped into the hall.

Seeing Wang Xian holding a wolf-hair brush, she asked, "Where did this little Daoist come from? Where is that old man?"

"Who are you?"

Wang Xian asked warily, "My master isn't home. Please leave."

The old woman was incomparably startled upon hearing this.

Didn't that Old Daoist only have one female disciple? When did another little Daoist appear here? Could something truly have happened?

"Gold Old Man, if you don't come out, I'll burn your shabby temple to the ground!"

The old woman wore a blue robe patterned with scattered flowers. Her hair was only faintly streaked with gray, and not a wrinkle could be seen on her face as she flared up.

Looking at Wang Xian, she smiled. "Once I burn this place down, you can come with me."

"Ah..."

Wang Xian jumped in fright and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Master, save me!"

"Alas!"

The Old Daoist's sigh drifted in on the wind. "Tell me, did your conscience finally stir this early in the morning, and have you come to repay my Spirit Stones?"

"Master!"

Wang Xian cried out, "This granny wants to abduct me from here."

The Old Daoist arrived in a single step and said with an easy smile, "Then go. Being Granny's disciple would count as a blessing cultivated over three lifetimes."

"Master, I'm here!"

Before the old woman could start shouting at the Old Daoist, a young girl's call rang out through the wind as well.

Before Wang Xian's dumbfounded eyes, she came like a ball of blazing fire.

A girl in a red dress, wrapped in a fox-fur coat, rushed into the main hall.

She threw her arms around the old woman and laughed. "Master, there's snow everywhere here. It's no fun at all."

The old woman held the little-faced girl, whose cheeks were flushed red, and pointed at the Old Daoist. "Greet your Martial Uncle Gold. This is..."

The Old Daoist smiled faintly. "Wang Xian is a disciple I accepted not long ago. He can be considered this girl's junior martial brother."

"So you're my junior martial brother?"

Dantai Xiaoxue giggled and said to Wang Xian, "My name is Dantai Xiaoxue. You can call me Senior Sister from now on, all right?"

Wang Xian was completely lost in the clouds and mist for a moment. Naturally, he did not address her.

Seeing this, the Old Daoist had no choice but to explain, "Granny is from the Tianshan Sword Sect north of Kunlun. Haven't I told you?"

Wang Xian froze upon hearing this, then finally set down the wolf-hair brush in his hand.

He respectfully bowed to the old woman. "Greetings, Senior. Greetings, Senior Sister."

Perhaps he found it too awkward to call an old woman Martial Aunt.

Fortunately, the old woman did not wish to fuss with him. Instead, she looked at the Old Daoist with disdain and asked, "Your disciple's cultivation is far too low. Should he come to the Sword Sect with me to temper himself?"

"No!"

"I'm not going!"

Master and disciple answered in unison. Clearly, the Old Daoist did not want Wang Xian to leave.

And in Wang Xian's heart, there was only his master.

The Old Daoist was delighted at their reply. Looking at the old woman, he smiled. "You have owed me five hundred Spirit Stones for a full ten years. The New Year is coming. Isn't it time to pay up?"

The old woman flew into a rage upon hearing this and pointed at Wang Xian. "If you want Spirit Stones, bring this little fellow to the Sword Sect on the day we accept new disciples in spring."

Dantai Xiaoxue had not expected Wang Xian to refuse her master's kindness.

A hint of regret appeared on her face. "Junior Brother, you're too weak."

Wang Xian said nothing.

Thinking that the visitors had nothing to do with him anyway, he simply gripped his wolf-hair brush and resumed copying the Dao Scripture on the table.

The old woman had not expected Wang Xian to ignore her and her disciple and go off to copy scriptures nearby.

She immediately made her purpose clear to the Daoist.

"Gold Old Man, on the day winter began, divine light descended from the heavens. Later, I made a calculation with my fingers and discovered that a Divine Sword had been born. You owe me quite a few favors. It is time to repay them!"

Having said that, she held out her hand and said quietly, "The Divine Sword belongs to me. Name any condition you want!"

Upon hearing this, a strange smile appeared on the Old Daoist's face.

He smiled until his eyes nearly narrowed into slits. "This place of mine is only so big, front and back. At worst, you can turn our master-and-disciple Storage Rings inside out and see whether there is any Divine Sword you seek!"

The old woman glared at him and said viciously, "Nonsense! Golden light filled the sky that day!"

"If I hadn't been too busy to get away these past days, I would have come to trouble you long ago. Hurry up, and stop playing tricks!"

The Old Daoist turned to Wang Xian and asked, "Disciple, have you seen a Divine Sword?"