Sword City

Inside the hall, Ning Chen was eating when he suddenly stopped. He turned to look at the shopkeeper, a terrifying green light glowing in his eyes. "Shopkeeper, you haven't brought all the dishes out yet, have you?"

"I... I'll go get them right away!"

Under the terrifying gaze, sweat immediately poured down the shopkeeper's body, and he stammered in reply.

The shopkeeper left, and Ning Chen turned his gaze to the few people nearby. His murderous aura was so palpable that they scattered like startled birds, rushing back to serve the dishes.

The rest of the food was quickly brought out. The shopkeeper, the waiters, the chef, the dishwashers, and so on, once again gathered to watch, and their numbers showed a tendency to grow.

Even the few helpers sleeping in the back hall were startled by the commotion. Out of curiosity, they came over for a quick look, and then their jaws dropped in shock.

How to describe it? The way one man and one horse ate was simply awe-inspiring, utterly insane...

Everyone has unforgettable moments in life, but the pitiful memories of those present were destined to be imprinted with a terrifying scene by the two hungry ghosts before them. Such a sight was even more horrifying than today's snow, a once-in-a-century occurrence.

Half an hour later, the man and the horse finally stopped. They exchanged a glance and grinned, both equally satisfied, equally happy.

The "battle" ceased, and the chef and the others returned to sleep in a daze, unable to fully recover their senses the entire way.

The Little White Horse was led by a waiter to the stable to rest, and Ning Chen booked a room, preparing for a good night's sleep.

He had experienced too much these past few days; his mind had been forcibly stuffed with many unbelievable things and was already overloaded.

Ultimately, he was still an ordinary person, with joys and sorrows, and his own thoughts. He couldn't instantly accept so many inconceivable concepts.

That night was unprecedentedly quiet. Both the Little White Horse in the stable and Ning Chen in the guest room slept so soundly they wouldn't have woken up even if struck by lightning.

The next day, when the sun was high, Ning Chen finally pushed open his room door. He woke the still-sleeping Little White Horse, intending to continue their journey.

The Little White Horse hadn't had enough sleep and was in a bad mood, or rather, a terribly foul one. It started to throw a tantrum, rolling around and refusing to move.

Ning Chen sat by, watching the former's tantrum with a cold sneer. A moment later, with a clang, he drew the Ink Sword and thrust it into the stone slab. He said faintly, "Are you walking, or not?"

Seeing the Ink Sword stuck in the ground, the Little White Horse suddenly shivered. Its mind cleared instantly, and it neighed, getting up and taking its position immediately.

"Good, you're sensible," Ning Chen said, retrieving the Ink Sword with a forced smile.

Some horses, you just can't be too good to them. Give them an inch, and they'll take a mile, ready to run wild.

Ning Chen made up his mind to return to the palace and meet Grandson.

This decision was a difficult one to make. He didn't know how he would get back yet, but he had to.

The letter in his hand was of great importance. More importantly, the continuous assassinations from the Western Palace infuriated him.

In the imperial palace, the only person he trusted was Grandson. For the Western Palace to be wary, this letter would be most suitable in Grandson's hands.

However, despite his resolve, the mere thought of seeing Grandson made Ning Chen's heart tremble. Trust and fear were two completely different things. If not for absolute necessity, he truly wouldn't dare to go back.

He wondered if Grandson's anger had subsided after all this time.

Feeling apprehensive, Ning Chen walked along, muttering to the Little White Horse beside him, "Little White, in a couple of days, Brother will take you to meet someone."

"Hmph!" The Little White Horse was surprised. It turned its head, its eyes blinking, as if asking, "Who?"

Ning Chen's body trembled slightly, and he chuckled dryly, "You'll know when you meet them."

For most of the morning, Ning Chen moved around the city in his wheelchair, buying many things along the way, then dumping them all onto the Little White Horse.

They used to carry their own things because they weren't close, but now that they were so familiar, what was "mine" and "yours"?

Moreover, this fellow ate and drank his provisions; it had to pay some price.

The Little White Horse reluctantly accepted the oppression, not daring to resist. The threat from this morning was still vivid in its memory, so it could only silently swallow this bitter pill.

Half a day later, the man and the horse set off, heading south, towards the Imperial City.

But before that, he still had to return to the Academy, because after meeting Grandson, he wanted to visit Sword City in the east.

The Academy and the Imperial City were not far apart; for a very small number of people, they were even quite close.

Great Xia's peak military strength was not particularly powerful. The reason it had been able to keep the four directions in check was, firstly, its invincible military force, and secondly, the existence of the Academy.

The Academy's dean was one of the five strongest people in the world. Even though a sixth Xiantian Realm expert had now appeared, it still didn't change the fact that the dean was one of the five strongest.

Xiantian Realm experts also needed time to accumulate power; one could not reach the world-shaking strength of the current five top experts simply by entering the Xiantian Realm.

Although the sixth Xiantian Realm expert was incredibly talented, they still needed time to grow.

In this world, perhaps no one except Ning Chen could be certain who the sixth Xiantian Realm expert was. That desolate city in the east was too mysterious; even powerful Great Xia was unwilling to provoke it easily.

One of Great Xia's strongest Martial Marquis experts had been stationed there for many years, making the world even more curious about the origins of that city in the east.

However, over the years, none of the spies sent to that city had returned alive. When swordsmen in the world looked at that city, their hearts always felt heavy, because they saw a sword within the city.

Or rather, what they saw was that the entire city was a sword.

Therefore, that desolate city was also known as Sword City by swordsmen everywhere.

It was a supreme sword, its sharpness completely contained, yet it made all swordsmen in the world submit.

It was rumored among the people that there might be a supreme swordsman in Sword City, a swordsman even Xiantian Realm experts were wary of.

The rumor was absurd, and everyone knew that the Xiantian Realm was the sacred realm of martial arts, completely different from the Houtian Realm. If someone could fight a Xiantian expert, then that person must also be in the Xiantian Realm.

However, even with such an absurd rumor, many swordsmen still believed it, convinced that those who achieve enlightenment through the sword, even if their physical realm had not broken through to Xiantian, were enough to contend with Xiantian experts.

Regardless of whether this rumor was true or false, the power of Sword City was undeniable, forcing Great Xia to dispatch a Martial Marquis to guard it year-round with troops, showing how terrifying the deterrent power of martial strength could be once it reached a certain level.

Tiancang Academy, Du'e Temple, Eternal Night Temple, Northern Mongol Golden Tent, and Sword City—these were forbidden lands for all martial artists, places no expert dared to enter without authorization.

Ning Chen didn't know what connection Mu Chengxue had to Sword City, but he intended to go there sooner or later, perhaps after returning to the Western Palace this time.

He wanted to see what had truly happened to that woman. He still couldn't forget the aura she exuded that day—a cold indifference that severed everything, so chilling it sent shivers down his spine.

Mu Chengxue was the first person he met in this life, and she held extraordinary significance for him. He hated the feeling of unease that had settled in his heart that day. If he couldn't confirm whether his premonition was true or false with his own eyes, he wouldn't be able to put his mind at ease.

His purpose in returning to the Academy was also simple: whether going back to the palace or to Sword City in the east, he might encounter unimaginable dangers. He needed to be faster, and the wheelchair he was currently using was indeed too slow.

There was a Mr. Lu at the Academy, who specialized in ingenious craftsmanship. At the time, Mr. Lu had said it was his first time making a wheelchair, so he might be a little rusty and Ning Chen should just make do with it.

Although Ning Chen had always thought this wheelchair far exceeded what Old Lu meant by "make do," it was indeed too slow now, and he needed to go back and get a new one.

Originally, he had wanted to wait until his strength was greater, strong enough to protect himself, before going to Sword City in the east to find Mu Chengxue. But he wasn't a patient person after all; enduring this long was already his limit.

He had listened to The Master and traveled north. Resolving his inner turmoil was also a form of tempering. He had always lived under his Grandson's protection, experiencing much but growing little. After all, everyone's path had to be walked by themselves, and he was no exception.

The journey back, with a clear destination, was much faster than the trip there. Every time they passed a new place, Little White Horse would be very excited, but Ning Chen's mood couldn't improve because he found the Golden Pages he had obtained on the altar to be incredibly frustrating.

The Cultivation Technique recorded on the pages was powerful, but its requirements were terrifyingly high, especially the moves, which explicitly demanded at least Xiantian Realm cultivation to practice.

Ning Chen was indignant. If he were already in the Xiantian Realm, why would he need to practice some broken moves? He could just rely on his cultivation to slap his enemies dead.

The moves couldn't be practiced, but the Cultivation Technique could be referenced. The Dantian's qi vortex had a vast capacity; as long as one wasn't afraid of death, it could accommodate true qi of many attributes.

Unfortunately, the essence of these pages lay in the moves recorded at the end. Although the Cultivation Technique was extraordinary, without the moves to complement it, it couldn't unleash its full power.

The only good news was that the meridians-traveling methods in both Golden Pages didn't conflict, meaning that even if he practiced it, it wouldn't kill him.

So, he practiced it.

Of course, he still primarily focused on the Cultivation Technique from the first Golden Pages; this particular technique was just for emergencies.

Ten days later, the dusty man and horse finally returned to the Academy.

By then, the Academy's students had also started their classes.

Upon returning, Ning Chen first paid his respects to The Master. Just over a month had passed, and The Master looked older, though his spirits seemed good.

The Master was very fond of Little White Horse, so Ning Chen simply left the creature there and went to find Mr. Lu himself.

Old Lu's residence wasn't within the Academy, but in an isolated courtyard about three li away.

Old Lu liked quiet, especially when he was developing new ideas; he absolutely detested being disturbed. However, Ning Chen felt he got along very well with this eccentric old man.

When Ning Chen arrived at Mr. Lu's residence, the isolated courtyard gate was closed, clearly indicating that no one was welcome inside.

He knew that at this time, the eccentric old man was likely still engrossed in his various frameworks, so he wasn't in a hurry. Instead, he sat outside the gate, waiting quietly.

Not long after, a grumpy voice came from inside the courtyard, "Come in."

Ning Chen smiled faintly, pushed open the door, and saw a disheveled old man tinkering with something amidst a pile of wood.

"Old Lu."

"You're not dead yet?"

Old Lu didn't even lift his head, already knowing who the visitor was. He had made the wheelchair, so he could tell from the sound.

Ning Chen chuckled, replying, "Old Lu worries too much. This kid doesn't want to die yet."

However, before his words fully landed, Ning Chen's eyes suddenly narrowed. His right hand instantly drew the Ink Sword, holding it horizontally in front of him. With a bang, his body, along with the wheelchair, slid back more than three zhang.

"Not bad, you've improved a lot."

Old Lu clapped his hands, roughly understanding why Ning Chen had come. This wheelchair was indeed slow.

"Cough, cough."

Ning Chen felt a dull pain in his chest and spat out a mouthful of blood. Then, he glared at the old man in front of him, angrily exclaiming, "Old Lu, are you still going through menopause?!"

"Menopause?"

Old Lu was puzzled, asking in confusion.

Ning Chen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said, "It means I'm praising you for being smart."

Old Lu nodded. "Oh, then your whole family is going through menopause."

"..."

Ning Chen fell silent. He knew this old man was much harder to deal with than he appeared. Old age made one cunning, and there wasn't a word of a lie in that.

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