The newcomer was just as distinctive—so distinctive that once you saw him, you would never forget him.
He wore white robes whiter than snow, unstained by even a speck of dust. His pale hand gripped the sword in his grasp. His expression was cold, and his star-bright eyes fixed icily on He Heng—and on his sword.
A breeze swept past. He Heng felt a vast chill suddenly engulf the area around him, like the ice of the far north, cold enough to freeze his soul.
"Ximen Chuixue!" He Heng looked at him coldly, his tone certain.
The man opposite him nodded. He was Ximen Chuixue, and only Ximen Chuixue possessed such absolute coldness, such absolute loneliness, and such an absolute sword.
Some people were already close to becoming gods, simply because they had no emotions.
He Heng and Ximen Chuixue faced each other in silence. Night enveloped them, the chill swept through the air, and their sword lights were about to blaze.
At that moment, Lu Xiaofeng's voice suddenly rang out, shattering the stillness.
"Ximen, good thing you got here in time today. Otherwise, I'd have become a dead phoenix."
As he spoke, Lu Xiaofeng kept patting his chest. He had nearly been scared to death just now.
"I'm glad I came in time too. But now, please be quiet." Ximen Chuixue gave Lu Xiaofeng a cold look. He had something sacred to do and didn't want anyone disturbing him.
Lu Xiaofeng glanced at Ximen Chuixue, then at He Heng, and finally at the swords in their hands. He had wanted to say something, but in the end he held his tongue. He understood Ximen Chuixue—and understood his loneliness.
Lu Xiaofeng voluntarily retreated more than ten zhang and watched the two men in silence.
He Heng and Ximen Chuixue met each other's gaze. A piercing chill swept through the air—equally cold, equally resolute.
Ximen Chuixue spoke first. "You use a sword?"
He Heng smiled. "Its name is the Longevity Sword. It often buries the longevity of others."
"Good!" Ximen Chuixue's eyes shone brighter. "Since you wield a sword, will you fight me?"
He Heng replied, "When and where?"
Ximen Chuixue said, "Right now, right here."
He Heng said, "Good. The moon hangs high, the stars shine down, and the night is deep. This is the perfect time for a duel."
"Then, please!" Ximen Chuixue said solemnly.
"Please!" He Heng's expression was just as grave.
The night was like water. The moon was dim, the starlight faint. A gentle breeze passed, bringing a bone-deep chill. Lu Xiaofeng shivered, but his eyes never left the two men and their swords in the street.
Suddenly, a sword rang out. Both swords swept into motion at once, their forms blurred, their light dazzling.
He Heng and Ximen Chuixue moved at the same time. In an instant, their figures blurred. Both were incredibly fast, their clash a whirlwind. The air filled at once with countless afterimages and brilliant sword light.
Clang!
A clear sword ring echoed through the night. The two Immortal Swords had crossed and locked together.
Now, no one could stop them.
Sword qi surged in every direction. Moonlight flowed like water, hazy and cold.
Every thrust they made was exquisite, refined to the utmost. Each instant brought countless variations. Their swordsmanship had reached its pinnacle.
He Heng's sword was like the awe-inspiring might of heaven, carrying an endless momentum that enveloped everything, contained all things, and reached everywhere.
Ximen Chuixue's sword was like the snow lotus blooming atop the Heavenly Mountain. In an utterly perilous environment, it unfurled its beauty and brilliance, standing proudly between heaven and earth!
As their sword intent shifted, their sword light and moves changed with it. Their swordsmanship had long since reached the realm of Sword Follows Heart. They held swords not only in their hands but in their hearts as well—blades sharp enough to cleave the sun, moon, and stars, and tear apart everything in the world.
Lu Xiaofeng was transfixed. His martial arts were far from weak, but beneath the sword qi of these two, he felt immense pressure—a pressure that bore down on his very soul.
Sword qi spans thirty thousand li; one sword chills nineteen states!
Suddenly, two dazzling beams of sword light flashed, illuminating the pitch-black night. The streets beneath the darkness seemed to turn to daylight, and the sword lights remained visible for miles.
Even the winds and clouds overhead changed color before these two swords. Thunder rumbled faintly, dark clouds churned, and the heavens themselves seemed to change.
He Heng and Ximen Chuixue were both immersed in each other's sea of swordsmanship. Their thoughts held only one another; nothing else existed.
Their sword qi was chilling, their radiance dazzling.
A chop, a sweep, a slash, a thrust, a hook, a stab... These were the most basic sword moves, yet in their hands they were refined to the utmost. Their movements flowed like clouds and water, each sword moved by the heart. The simplest moves combined into the most terrifying techniques.
Suddenly, a cloud drifted across the sky. He Heng leaped four or five zhang into the air, reaching the Peak of Lingyun, untouched by the mortal world. His gaze was calm, as though nothing in the world could ever shake him.
A breeze brushed past. He raised his sword with effortless grace and, with a light thrust from above, seemed like a Banished Immortal descending to earth!
Clang~~~
A long sword ring echoed. The two blades collided, sending sparks scattering through the night.
Lu Xiaofeng's eyes widened as he watched He Heng's descending strike. It was almost beyond anything mortal.
Soon, He Heng and Ximen Chuixue's figures intertwined once more, hazy and indistinct. Sword qi surged in every direction, and Lu Xiaofeng could no longer make out what was happening. All he could do was silently wish Ximen Chuixue well. He knew he couldn't interfere in this battle; the only thing he could do was wish his friend luck.
When He Heng and Ximen Chuixue finally separated again, Ximen Chuixue's face had turned deathly pale. Even the hand gripping his sword was trembling—a thing that should have been impossible for a swordsman like him.
He Heng swept a cool glance over him, then looked at Lu Xiaofeng and up at the sky. The Longevity Sword slid back into its sheath.
"Fine swordsmanship. That strike was beyond the mortal world!" After a long silence, Ximen Chuixue spoke abruptly.
He Heng smiled. "It is a fine sword. That move is called... Flying Immortal Beyond the Heavens!"
"Was it the same Flying Immortal Beyond the Heavens used by the White Cloud City Lord, Ye Gucheng?" Ximen Chuixue asked.
He Heng replied, "That's right. Two years ago, I crossed swords with Ye Gucheng and saw him use that technique. For people like us, seeing a move once is enough to learn seven or eight tenths of it. And I spent two years studying it, then created a movement technique based on it—Flying Immortal Wander."
"Then how does your Flying Immortal Beyond the Heavens compare with the White Cloud City Lord's?" Ximen Chuixue continued.
He Heng replied, "I've probably captured nine tenths of its essence. The remaining tenth belongs to Ye Gucheng alone, and I couldn't learn it, so I added some things of my own. Its power should be no less than the original."
"And in your duel with Ye Gucheng, who won?"
"In swordsmanship, Ye Gucheng and I were evenly matched. There was no real difference between us." He Heng didn't answer Ximen Chuixue's question directly.
"What a pity I never got to fight Lord Ye. Otherwise, I'd have no regrets." Ximen Chuixue sighed suddenly and closed his eyes. "Do it."
"Ximen!" Lu Xiaofeng shouted, rushing forward.
Ximen Chuixue turned on him with a cold voice. "Stay where you are. To me, defeat means death. For a swordsman to die at the hands of a more powerful swordsman is an honor."
Lu Xiaofeng smiled bitterly and, in the end, didn't take another step forward. He only looked at He Heng coldly.
But then He Heng smiled and looked at Ximen Chuixue. "Why do you think I'm going to kill you?"
Ximen Chuixue's expression didn't change. "A swordsman who loses must die. I lost to you today, so I can only die."
To his surprise, He Heng smiled again. "Leave."
"Why? You won't kill me?" Ximen Chuixue asked, confused.
"Because it isn't time yet. The flower hasn't bloomed to its most brilliant, most beautiful moment. How could I pluck it now?" He Heng stood with his hands behind his back and looked at him as if in contemplation.
Ximen Chuixue looked at He Heng, then at himself, as though he understood something. He sheathed his sword.
Then he asked, "When will the time be right?"
He Heng looked at him and said, "When you meet someone who stirs your heart, someone who can hold your sword back—then cut her down and wash away all worldly dust. That will be the time. Come find me then, and I won't spare you."
Ximen Chuixue frowned and pondered. He seemed to understand something, and yet perhaps nothing at all. He glanced at He Heng once more, said nothing, and walked away indifferently.
Lu Xiaofeng also glanced at He Heng, his gaze complicated. He hesitated, but in the end followed Ximen Chuixue.
He Heng watched the two of them walk away and smiled. Before Ximen Chuixue met Sun Xiuqing, cut her down, and ascended Zijin Peak, his sword was still somewhat immature. He wasn't He Heng's best opponent—not even in the realm of swordsmanship. After all, swordsmanship had never been He Heng's greatest strength.
He had been in this world for a long time, and he continued to improve day by day. He had spent several months reading in the Great Heaven World. Thanks to a memory so sharp it was nearly infallible after his aptitude improved, He Heng had memorized every book in the Flying Immortal Academy's library and every volume the He Family had given him.
Now he had fully absorbed them. That knowledge had become nourishment, driving his progress in martial arts. He had already attained the Martial Dao Two Hou Realm.
Over the years, the Great Dao Three Fists had also undergone a transformation. Merged with his inner and outer arts, they were etched into his very bones and had reached an entirely new realm. In this world, how many people could still take one of his punches?
Before you continue