"What strange thing?" Xue Qing and Situ Ping asked in unison.
Hermit Yanming continued, "When the four of us climbed to the mountaintop carrying wine and food, it was morning, and the sun had just risen. When we reached the foot of the only great pine tree atop the mountain, we found that someone had already claimed the spot."
"It was an old beggar with white hair and beard, rosy cheeks, and the bearing of an immortal. He lay slanted across a stone slab beneath the tree. The rising sun shone upon him, making him look like an immortal." Hermit Yanming narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly, as though recalling the past.
"Only, his clothes were tattered, and one look told us he was a beggar. We initially thought he might be an elder of the Beggar's Sect, but he carried no cloth sack. When the old beggar saw us approach, he asked, 'Do you know martial arts?' We all nodded and said yes. Then he asked, 'Do you have wine and meat?' We nodded again. He said, 'Bring the wine and meat here.' I was carrying them at the time, and as if possessed by ghosts and guided by gods, I listened to him and handed everything over. The old beggar's eyes lit up at the sight of the wine and meat, no less brightly than the sunlight shining on him."
"The old beggar accepted our wine and meat without ceremony and began wolfing them down. Strangely enough, the four of us simply stood there, watching him eat and drink until he had finished it all. Then he wiped his mouth and said, 'Fine wine, fine meat—this life has not been in vain.' Then he said to me, 'You, not bad.' He turned to the other three and said, 'You three, not bad either.'"
"Then the old beggar took out a piece of hide from his robes and tore it barehanded into four pieces. With a casual flick, he threw one piece to each of us. After I caught mine, I was just about to unfold it when the old beggar took a small booklet from his robes and tossed it over as well. Having done all that, he lay back down on the stone, closed his eyes, and ignored us. We were left completely baffled. We opened the hide pieces in our hands and examined them carefully—they were exactly what you are holding now—but we still could not make head or tail of them, even after thinking ourselves dizzy. So I opened that small booklet. The more I read, the more shocked and excited I became. Seeing my delighted expression, the others knew we had stumbled upon something good. After I finished, your masters all read it too. Only then did we realize that we had found a treasure."
"According to the booklet, the hide bore a treasure map left behind three hundred years ago by a swordsman named Qu Da. The place where the treasure was hidden was this very wild jujube grove before us. Qu Da had obtained this treasure map and found sword manuals and medicinal herbs here. He then secluded himself here for more than ten years to practice his swordsmanship, becoming a great hero of his generation. After his martial arts reached great accomplishment, Qu Da did not take all the sword manuals and medicinal herbs away. He left them here, awaiting those fated in later generations. The booklet also described how to use the hide and when to enter the treasure site. To be honest, the four of us were immediately fired up with hot blood, wanting to find this place at once and claim the treasure. But after checking the time, we learned that only on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month each year would there be a chance to enter. Only then did we calm down."
Hermit Yanming glanced at the sky as the darkness gradually receded and continued, "To be honest, when such an enormous pie fell from the sky onto our heads, we were all stunned at first. Once we came to our senses, it felt too unbelievable. Yet that old beggar was still lying on the stone, and with our stomachs full of questions, we waited for him to wake. But we soon discovered that the old beggar was not asleep. He simply was no longer breathing. All four of us went up to examine him. He truly had passed away. So after giving him a proper burial, we discussed claiming the treasure. But since the fifteenth day of the first lunar month was still far off, we first returned to our respective sects to verify the authenticity of this treasure. We also carefully planned the details of retrieving it and agreed on the time and place for our next meeting."
"When we met again, each of us brought out the information we had gathered. It turned out that three hundred years ago, a one-armed swordsman had appeared in the martial world. His name was quite ordinary—Qu Da. His martial arts were supreme, and he was upright by nature. Tales often spread through the martial world of how he eliminated violence, upheld justice, and acted chivalrously. Yet no one knew his origins. Many people exhausted every scheme trying to learn of his master and background, but all came up empty-handed. Qu Da never sparred with others because, according to him, all his sword moves were killing moves—once used, blood would be spilled. They could not be used for friendly exchanges. Nor did he seek fame. Though his martial arts were very high, no one had any way to compare him with the foremost masters of the martial world. However, Daoist Qingmao, who was acknowledged as the number one martial artist at the time, said that after seeing Qu Da's swordsmanship, he believed he could not match that sword intent of pressing forward without hesitation and killing in an instant. Once those words spread, the entire martial world was in an uproar, and even fewer people dared provoke Qu Da."
"Yet some who wished to make a name for themselves still pestered Qu Da and demanded matches, only to be avoided by him. Until one day, Qu Da happened upon the second greatest expert of the Demonic Path massacring a village. Filled with righteous indignation, he intervened and slew him beneath his sword. From then on, peace finally came to his ears. Truly, no one came to throw away their lives again. Yunzhou, where Qu Da lived, was what Pingyang City had been called three hundred years ago. No petty scoundrels of the martial world dared commit wanton evil there."
"Actually, what made us most covetous was not his martial arts. As for sword manuals, only the people of Ten Thousand Sword Peak truly coveted those." Hermit Yanming smiled at Ma Xiangyang. "We discovered that Qu Da had actually lived to be one hundred and twenty years old."
"Ah!" The six young people listening to the story all cried out in surprise.
People of the martial world were unlike ordinary people. They spent their lives living on the edge of blades, so internal and external injuries were unavoidable. They might not amount to much in youth, but in old age they would rear their fangs. Unless one cultivated profound internal arts, few lived past eighty. For Qu Da to have lived to one hundred and twenty was truly a miracle.
At this, the young people's eyes began to shine as well. They all wondered whether they might find medicinal herbs in the dense forest that could prolong life. As for secret manuals, most of them held the same attitude: they had not even finished practicing their own sect's martial arts, so where would they find time to learn another sect's techniques? Besides, even peerless martial arts had to be accumulated through time and sweat. Everyone present was no longer young, and their meridians had already taken shape. Starting anew would surely yield twice the effort for half the result. What fool would do such a thing? It would be better to gain some personal benefit. Living ten extra years meant enjoying ten extra years, and practicing martial arts for ten more years. Was that not far better than any peerless martial art? Of course, if there were some peerless sword art that could be brought back to add bricks and tiles to one's sect, that would count as contributing to its development. When the sect's records wrote down a line about it, one could leave a name that would endure through the ages. As they thought on it, it seemed as though everyone could see the drool at the corners of the others' mouths.
Seeing the expressions of these juniors, Hermit Yanming smiled knowingly and continued, "So the four of us continued discussing the exploration and retrieval of the treasure. Based on each of our respective influence, we assigned different people to search for similar terrain. Heaven does not disappoint those with a determined heart. Two months ago, we finally found Stone Man Peak. In the end, according to our prior agreement, so as not to attract the attention of other sects, the others remained behind to hold down their respective sects. They only sent outstanding second-generation disciples, not even dispatching chief disciples or anyone else likely to draw attention. I, the manor master who had never founded a sect, would lead the people from each sect here to retrieve the treasure."
"Of course, all of you are trusted choices within your sects, confidants of your sect leaders. Before coming here, we discussed it: if you encounter any fortuitous opportunities of your own within the treasure site, they will all belong to you." At once, everyone's faces lit up. At last, they understood why their masters had sent them rather than someone else. Hermit Yanming continued, "Now, let us discuss the most important matter: how the treasure will be divided." The moment they heard this, their expressions tightened as they listened carefully. "If the treasures can be divided equally, then they will be divided equally. If there are differences, we will first distribute what can be divided evenly. As for what remains, how do you think it should be decided?"
Everyone froze, deeply astonished. This Hermit Yanming was quite humorous. At a moment like this, he was still thinking of testing the juniors. What an interesting man—no wonder their masters had allowed him to come alone and lead this group of juniors. Wen Wenhai rubbed his nose and said, "Hermit, people of the martial world have the rules of the martial world. Let us decide it with fists and martial arts." The others all voiced their agreement. Hermit Yanming said mysteriously, "Your masters said the same. At first, they proposed comparing swordsmanship, but aside from Ten Thousand Sword Peak, no one else agreed. Then they proposed comparing fist techniques, but aside from the Misty Sect, no one else agreed. Leg techniques were the same. So they proposed three matches, with two wins out of three, stopping at the point. But how can we people of the martial world control a duel so perfectly? They also worried for their disciples' safety. After all, you are all their direct disciples or relatives. Sigh, they argued until it was more lively than a market. In the end, I offered an idea that settled it all in one sentence. Can you guess what method it was?"
They looked at one another, big eyes staring at small eyes, but no matter what, they could not guess. Hermit Yanming urged them on from the side. Finally, Xue Qing blushed and stammered, "S-senior, could it be... Rock paper scissors?" After saying it, her face was so red it seemed ready to drip blood. Hermit Yanming said in surprise, "Heroine Xue has a heart as delicate and ingenious as crystal. You guessed without the slightest error." Everyone erupted into an uproar, but Wen Wenhai alone wore an extremely strange expression.
Everyone looked "reverently" at the senior expert before them, whose thin face made him resemble an old scholar. They could not help feeling a sense of closeness, all muttering inwardly, How could the difference between people be so great? Our masters keep straight faces all day long. How could they have such bearing?
Just as everyone was silently criticizing their own masters, Hermit Yanming glanced at the morning glow on the horizon, slapped his forehead, and said, "Quick, get to the edge of the woods. Do not miss the hour."
With that, he took the lead and ran to the forest's edge.
At that moment, the rising sun happened to peek out from beyond the mountain. A shadow flashed like lightning from the other side of the woods, passing precisely between the two trees at the forest's edge before speeding back toward Stone Man Peak.