Chapter 354: Wind and Rain over Mount Wu

Chapter 354: Wind and Rain over Mount Wu

"Young master, you're up so early?" The next morning, Zhao Changhe rose as usual to practice in the courtyard. A simple old farmer sighed as he brought over a bowl of hot soup: "New Year's Day is just a few days away, and you're still traveling far from home in this season. Everyone's having a hard time in this world..."

Zhao Changhe was taken aback.

Gazing at the snows of Kunlun, his mind still lingered in winter—yet it was already almost New Year? Time had flown so fast...

Though it felt like he hadn't been in Kunlun long, a month had actually passed.

He still remembered when the Chaos Chronicle's announcement came late, it was still early December. He didn't know which day "early" referred to; perhaps the first ten days were nearly over.

Then all sorts of chaos ensued, and before he knew it, another half month had slipped by...

New Year had come, yet he felt not a trace of festive spirit, wasting time in a city of villains with a bunch of fools. Worse still, by this reckoning, he would still be traveling on New Year's Day itself. In fact, since his crossing, over a year and a quarter, perhaps seven or eight months had been spent on the road... For instance, from Beimang to Kunlun, the journey alone took nearly a month...

No wonder the ancients wrote so many poems about wandering; it truly was a pain.

Zhao Changhe sighed: "It is what it is. I've only celebrated New Year once in this world."

The old man looked at him with sympathy, unsure how to interpret those words.

Zhao Changhe said no more, thanked the old man for the hot soup and meal, and rode out of the town early that morning.

As he slowly walked through the morning mist, he thought to himself: another year older. He had been twenty when he crossed, and now he was about to turn twenty-two.

Calling him a youth at twenty was already a stretch; back then, Zhuque had thought of him as an "older young man who betrayed his master," and now even more so... In every sense, this age was the backbone of the martial world. The Chaos Chronicle set the Qianlong List for those under twenty-five—perhaps that was a bit high.

Time truly flew. Wan Zhuang must be nearly thirty now.

Hmm... would Yangyang come of age in a few days? Or did it only count on her actual birthday? When was her birthday, anyway?

If counting from the day the three-year pact was made, not even a year had passed—that pact was made in March... Thinking about it, he really was impressive, mainly because his luck seemed astonishingly strong, almost like a chosen one.

The seventh, eighth, and ninth levels of the Xuan Pass were the upper three, each quite difficult. Going from six to seven was already a moderate hurdle; a moment ago he thought it would take a long time, but the next moment Xia Longyuan gave him a fruit, and it was solved instantly.

He thought going from seven to eight would take ages, but then he and Yue Hongling practiced dual cultivation in the Xuanwu Secret Realm, wrapped in jelly, and it was solved.

The hurdle from eight to nine—based on the experiences of Yue Hongling, Cui Yuanyong, Chi Li, and others—all had been stuck for half a year or more. He thought even as a genius it would take months, but a single Dragon-Elephant Blood Ginseng broke through directly with leftover energy, straight to the door of the Secret Treasury.

His own quest for the Secret Treasury had actually begun at the eighth level of the Xuan Pass, when he witnessed Yue Hongling's breakthrough and was guided by her to start exploring his spiritual power early. In his own feeling, he had been exploring the Secret Treasury for months, hitting walls and falling short, making it seem like the greatest obstacle he faced.

But in others' eyes, they would probably curse: "What do you mean 'long'? You just broke through to the ninth level, didn't you?"

Even Yuxu couldn't help asking, "Is something chasing you?"

Yes, there is...

Having witnessed the power of gods and demons, no matter how splendidly he roamed the mortal world in fine clothes and a spirited horse, he must appear like an ant in others' eyes.

When would he ever touch that level?

...

Several days after leaving Kunlun heading south, he indeed spent New Year on the road, not even smelling a single firecracker.

Along the way, he could still see countless towering mountains to the south.

Zhao Changhe knew that beyond these peaks lay the land of abundance in Shu.

The Bashan Sword Hut was not far from here. Yue Hongling had said she would visit the Sword Hut to experience its sword techniques, then continue southwest to see the Gu affairs of Miaojiang.

Zhao Changhe had originally said to Yue Hongling, "Might we meet again by chance in this vast world?"—because Bashan and Mount Wu were very close, part of the same mountain range, and in many poems, the two were even interchangeable.

He had long planned to go to Mount Wu to find Sect Leader Xue, so of course he might "accidentally" meet Yue Hongling at Bashan and trick her into "the pose you want."

But after spending so long in Kunlun, it now seemed that by the time he reached Bashan, Yue Hongling would have already left...

The Bashan Sword Hut was Han Wubing's birthplace, though they had fallen out, so there was some connection. He had been interested in visiting, but now was not the time; he would finish the Blood God Sect business first.

In the Chinese conception, Mount Wu always evoked clouds and rain, stirring the heart, but in this world, it had no such significance... Although this world also had ancient records of a Mount Wu goddess and such tales, the goddess seemed not to be an ancient god or demon, merely a story, so no one cared.

What people cared about more was the concept of "Wu" (shamanism).

For example, the Blood God Sect practiced blood and qi techniques, had various flesh-and-blood sacrifice rituals, even cruel rites of flaying skin. Perhaps stemming from the ancient demon god's array they had obtained, they were cruel, bloodthirsty, evil, and poisonous, utterly incompatible with civilized society—a true demonic sect far more typical than the Four Symbols Sect.

When Zhao Changhe first joined the stronghold, he was only an external bandit, yet the atmosphere was already fierce; if he had truly joined the sect, it would have been unbearable.

Thus for a long time, in people's minds, Zhao Changhe, "born of the Blood God Sect," was a ferocious demon. The epithet "Bloodthirsty Asura" came from that. At that time, people couldn't even believe Zhao Changhe could be a chivalrous hero—it was completely incongruous.

It was no wonder this group loved the name "Wu," turning this gentle, beautiful land of mountains and waters into a demon's lair.

Fortunately, their cultivation was mediocre, hardly able to wreak havoc in the martial world.

The strongest, the sect leader, was only at the ninth level of the Xuan Pass, stuck at the door of the Secret Treasury his whole life. In his forties, the prime of martial arts, after decades of honing techniques, he was defeated by a mere twenty-year-old girl at the eighth level of the Xuan Pass, becoming a laughingstock to this day.

The sect leader was like this, and the experts below him each had their own limitations.

For instance, those who practiced the Blood Sha Skill either suffered agonies from the sha qi, leading them to give up, or relied on Blood-Calming Pills to suppress it, which eroded the sha qi, making training useless—once the Blood Sha Skill lost its sha qi boost, pure body training was no better than any random body-refining technique, losing its greatest meaning.

Then there were those who practiced the supposedly advanced Blood God Skill, which had once been Zhao Changhe's dream goal.

It turned out this skill was about the same as taking Blood-Calming Pills—just without the dependency—but it also suppressed and eroded the sha qi, failing to realize its true value.

This was the main reason Xue Canghai was defeated by a lower-level opponent; otherwise, in terms of technique refinement and martial understanding, Yue Hongling at that time couldn't match him. It was entirely because the skill itself was practiced incorrectly, and the sharp-eyed Yue Hongling found the winning opportunity.

Such a Blood God Sect, no matter how evil, could hardly make waves. Whenever they surfaced, they were hunted down by the Demon-Suppression Department under Tang Wanzhuang's command, and various righteous experts and heroes gained fame from it. Worse still, the Four Symbols Sect even attacked them—specifically, Zhuque alone, single-handedly fighting from the entrance to the core hall, killing until the entire sect was terrified, then they knelt and submitted, losing all spirit.

The cause was merely that Zhuque thought, "That dead turtle isn't doing anything, and we're short on manpower; we need to find some people to do the rough work."

In other words, the Blood God Sect's evil deeds were mostly accumulated in earlier years; in recent times, the declining sect had few evil deeds—not that they didn't want to, but they lacked the ability. Attacking the Luo Family Manor was their most glorious campaign in years.

And during this period, the Blood God Sect faced another headache: the Maitreya Sect, after being thwarted in the east at Gusu, had begun advancing west into Jingxiang, where the war was raging. So they sent an envoy to Mount Wu, hoping the Blood God Sect would join them in rebellion.

Xue Canghai was torn. He certainly wanted to rebel; the mere atmosphere of a thousand-mile slaughter might allow him to break through to the Secret Treasury, and possibly break free from the Four Symbols Sect's control and become independent.

But the Maitreya Sect was not a good partner. From their initial grand momentum, over the past half year they had been resisted by the southern gentry militias led by the Tang family, caught in a millstone-like grinding war, struggling to advance, with no sign of sweeping the south.

Should he take the gamble?

Just as Xue Canghai was receiving the Maitreya envoy in negotiations, Zhao Changhe, after half a month's journey, arrived at Mount Wu on his dark steed, treading through the spring rain.