"Giddyap!"
"Whoa, whoa... easy~"
The sound of wind,
The sound of birds,
And the sound of a human voice.
A lone rider rode his horse along a country path.
All around was quiet, yet Zhang Qingyuan was perfectly at ease.
He had bought this tall, sturdy horse the day before yesterday. It was only two years old this year; in human terms, it should have just entered young adulthood.
There was no helping it. After taking over the assets of the Black Lotus Sect's branch, Zhang Qingyuan had exchanged all the banknotes for silver. Together with the jewelry, it weighed several dozen jin.
Carrying several dozen jin of belongings all by himself was sheer physical labor.
That was why he had bought a horse, a bay with a thick mane, just to his liking.
Zhang Qingyuan had even given his fine steed a name: Baolai.
The first car he had owned in his previous life had been a Baolai, so he had given the horse that name as a remembrance of his past life.
It was afternoon, and Zhang Qingyuan sat on horseback, gazing at the beautiful mountain forests on either side.
"Tsk, tsk. Now this is a national scenic area. This is what real nature looks like."
There was not a trace of pollution. Waist-high wild grass swayed with the breeze, weeping willow branches draped over the ground like strands of hair, cicadas trilled, and a hundred birds vied in song among the trees.
As he marveled at the natural scenery, Zhang Qingyuan took out a notebook to write things down.
What he recorded was none other than the martial arts he had improved over the past few days.
He had improved the internal cultivation method, the Three Pure Ones Divine Instruction, into the Yin-Yang Limitless Art, and had already recorded it.
He had improved the lightness technique, Treading on Geese and Chasing Snow, into Ascending the Clouds.
There was also the movement technique, the Jade Purity Lotus Step. These were all assets he had accumulated and had to record. In the future, when he founded a sect and took disciples to teach, these would be his foundation.
The path of martial learning had no end.
That was why he needed to broaden his knowledge and retain what he learned, visiting other Daoist sects to exchange ideas and learn, drawing on their strengths to make up for his weaknesses.
Martial arts were not immutable. Even the Yin-Yang Limitless Art could be improved further.
He would draw together the wisdom of his predecessors. As the saying went, among any three people walking together, there must be one who could be his teacher.
Still, Zhang Qingyuan did not consider himself a martial fanatic. While pursuing the martial path, he also wanted to appreciate the scenery along the way.
That was why he was in no hurry to reach the Taiyin Dao Palace, taking in the sights as he traveled.
His luggage was on the horse, and so was he, humming a tune, eating fine food, drinking fine wine, recording his inspiration, and enjoying the scenery. Now that was living.
Such leisure and contentment were incomparably better than being a corporate slave in his previous life.
After taking a drink of water and reckoning the time, he began calculating the journey.
"The Taiyin Dao Palace is in Qi Prefecture to the east, eight hundred li from here. At my current pace, I'll need at least another half month."
He muttered to himself and glanced down at the horse beneath him. I wonder which of you has more stamina, you or Red Hare.
During the Three Kingdoms period, Red Hare had been the finest steed under heaven.
Stroking the horse's back, Zhang Qingyuan said, "Baolai, Baolai, you'd better treat me well, because your master is going to make his name resound throughout the world."
As though Baolai understood his bullshitting, the horse gave a low whinny and kept walking.
Zhang Qingyuan smiled. A fine steed for a hero.
Once again, he took an empty notebook from his bundle and began contemplating the way of the sword.
His old master had created three swordsmanship manuals in his lifetime: the Jade Purity Golden Immortal Sword, the Thirteen Swords of Pure Light, and the Twelve Immortal-Slaying Forms.
He had to admit, his old master had been rather good at naming martial arts. They all sounded imposing.
Zhang Qingyuan had long since thoroughly mastered and integrated these three sword arts. Holding his brush with its tip against his lips, he began contemplating the way of the sword.
He might have watched plenty of martial arts films in his previous life, still remembered many of their lines vividly, and been able to recite quite a few theories of swordsmanship with ease.
But knowing a formula by heart and knowing how to use it were two different things.
He understood principles such as "of all martial arts under heaven, only speed cannot be overcome" and "still as a mountain, moving like a fleeing hare."
But he had yet to work out how to apply them in practice.
Zhang Sanfeng might have been highly gifted, but he had not been some monstrous prodigy.
Hadn't it taken him a hundred years to fully comprehend peerless martial arts like Taiji Fist and Taiji Sword?
As he thought, he became absorbed. Only after an unknown amount of time did Zhang Qingyuan suddenly come back to himself.
Looking down, he found that all the ink on his brush had gone into his mouth. His horse had also stopped beside a small river and was drinking with its head lowered.
"Ptooey, ptooey!"
He hurriedly swung off the horse and stood beside the river, lowering his head for a look. His lips had already been stained black with ink.
With a helpless, wry smile, he said, "This is a bad habit. I really have to fix it."
After driving the horse aside to graze, Zhang Qingyuan began washing his lips.
He crouched low by the water, washing carefully.
As he washed, he suddenly heard the ringing of a bell, drawing nearer from the distance.
After a moment's thought, he stood and wiped the water from his face.
Even Baolai stopped grazing and looked in that direction.
Not far away, a bay horse was approaching. A bell hung from its neck, swaying with each step and ringing in rhythm.
But what caught his attention was neither the bell nor the horse, but the person riding it.
It was a woman,
A woman dressed in an apricot-yellow Daoist robe.
Her robe spread over the horse, hanging down against its belly, its hem fluttering and trembling gently. Half her lovely hair was gathered up with a hairpin, while the other half fell over her shoulders. She held a horsetail whisk in a reverse grip, its tassels draped over her arm.
She was a female Daoist.
Those within Daoism had their own forms of address: men were called Qian Daoists, and women were called Kun Daoists.
"Daoist nun" was no honorific. It was disrespectful to a female Daoist master.
Zhang Qingyuan's gaze was drawn to the woman before him. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with cool, clear eyes and gleaming teeth, her beauty unrivaled. Her fair skin was lustrous and delicate, and her lips were like pure droplets of water.
Such beauty was even more captivating than Chen Ling'er, whom he had befriended a few days earlier...
Yet her eyes carried a sense of forbidding strangers to approach, and her somewhat thin figure seemed especially frail.
She was in her twenties, yet carried the world-weariness of someone forty.
For an instant, Zhang Qingyuan actually felt a trace of emptiness. It was time to find a girlfriend.
As he looked at the woman, she was looking at him too.
He wore a Daoist robe and was young, yet his entire being brimmed with Daoist grace. His handsome face bore a touch of roguish charm and free-spirited ease, and his bearing was rather languid and natural.
He had the grace of a Daoist, yet also some of the unfettered air of a dissolute young gentleman. It was quite contradictory.
Which school does this Daoist belong to?
The woman knitted her brows slightly, cautiously watching his every movement.
Meeting her wary gaze, Zhang Qingyuan smiled and raised his hands in greeting. "Zhang Qingyuan of the Three Purities Dao Lineage, Daoist name Qingyuan, greets you, fellow Daoist."
Inwardly, he could not stop marveling. She's just too beautiful!
Fairy Sister, Mimi, whatever-go to hell.
With looks like these, back in my previous life, she'd have been enough to sweep the entertainment industry flat even as a mere pretty face.
This was truly a backward glance and a smile giving birth to a hundred charms, leaving the powdered beauties of the six palaces without color.
She didn't even need to glance back and smile. Even without a smile, the powdered beauties of the six palaces would pale beside her.
The sun sank in the west,
A red curtain filled the sky.
A gentle breeze rose,
The grass grew tall and orioles flew.
Amid this beautiful, captivating scenery, a female Daoist met a male Daoist.
The woman's brows furrowed further. She looked at Zhang Qingyuan's eyes. She knew that gaze well; it was a look of adoration.
She ignored Zhang Qingyuan's introduction. She loathed that kind of gaze.
The horse brushed past him, and Zhang Qingyuan froze for a moment.
She ignored me. Was she really that rude?