Chapter 1 Qi Province

Qi Province has mountains, a hundred thousand of them.

Within the mountains is a river, encircling them like a jade belt.

Amidst the mountains and waters, a verdant peak rises abruptly, with cliffs reaching a thousand ren (丈, a unit of length), piercing the clouds like a straight, long sword, a waterfall cascading down its face.

This mountain is called Jianshan (Sword Mountain), and within it lies a mountain manor.

Named Wanjian Shanzhuang (Ten Thousand Swords Manor).

Qi Province is located in the southern region of Da Feng, where spring reigns year-round, and the bitter cold of winter is never seen.

Whoosh~

The morning dew is heavy, especially in the mountains. Within the misty clouds, the sound of sword blades slicing through the air can be heard.

Before the Wanjian Shanzhuang, before a clear, cold pool, an old man stands with his hands behind his back.

He wears a green robe, carries a long sword on his back, has a thin face, and a tall, straight figure. But what draws the most attention are his hands, slender and crystalline.

His name is Mu Qinghua, the younger brother of Mu Qingfeng, the Taibai Sword ranked second on the Weaponry Spectrum, and the nominal master of Wanjian Shanzhuang.

Whoosh~~~

Above the cold pool, a tiny figure wields a sword while treading on the water. The sword light cleaves through the water mist, revealing a cold glint.

The person wears white and appears to be no more than eleven or twelve years old. However, the swirling sword light is already as smooth as desired, showing mastery of exquisite swordsmanship.

Whoosh!

A moment later, the youth's body shakes, ripples spread under his feet, and after a few light steps, he lands on the shore.

"Grandpa."

The youth sheathes his long sword, a hint of shame on his handsome face.

"Qingliu, how many years have you been practicing swordsmanship?"

Mu Qinghua stands with his hands behind his back, looking at his grandson calmly.

"Replying to Grandpa, six years."

The white-clad youth's face shows even deeper shame.

"Among the peers in our Wanjian Shanzhuang, you are considered the best. However, that alone is not enough to inherit your Great-Grandpa's mantle."

Mu Qinghua shakes his head slightly.

This youth is his grandson, and also the disciple with the highest talent among the younger generation of Wanjian Shanzhuang. He began learning the sword at four years old, and by the age of eight, he was already able to defeat his two elder brothers who had been practicing swordsmanship for more than fifteen years.

His talent, comprehension, and physique are all top-notch.

If he were not too young to take pills to refine qi, he could have already completed the Blood Exchange.

He is also the person in Wanjian Shanzhuang with the most hope of inheriting Mu Qingfeng's mantle.

Precisely because of this, he spares an hour each month to guide his swordsmanship.

"Grandson will work harder."

Mu Qingliu's small face tightens, his expression very serious.

All the disciples of Wanjian Shanzhuang take inheriting the Taibai Sword as their lifelong pursuit, and he is no exception.

"It's not that you don't work hard enough, but that your father's discipline is too strict."

Mu Qinghua smiles and says:

"When your Great-Grandpa was your age, he was still running and playing in the mountains all day long. You, at such a young age, practice swordsmanship for eight hours every day. It's too harsh."

He has been watching Mu Qingliu's progress, but such training may not be good.

However, his son is too stubborn, and he doesn't want to interfere too much.

"Grandpa, Grandson enjoys it."

Mu Qingliu's eyes are clear, like the autumn water reflecting sword light.

"I know you are working hard, but wanting to inherit your Great-Grandpa's mantle is not something that can be achieved with mere effort."

Mu Qinghua simply waves his hand:

"It so happens that your uncle is going out. You can go with him."

Mu Qingliu scratches his head. Although he doesn't want to go, he can't refuse.

He can only agree sullenly.

Mu Qinghua smiles slightly, and his figure disappears into the forest.

Not long after, a white crane descends from the sky, landing before the clear, cold pool.

"Third, get on!"

A young swordsman waves:

"It's not easy to get a chance to go out and play. Hurry up!"

"Second Brother!"

Mu Qingliu glances at his second brother, Mu Fengliu, and sighs inwardly as he gets on the white crane.

Only then does he see that there are many gift boxes placed on the crane's back, and he can smell a strong medicinal fragrance:

"Second Brother, who are you giving gifts to? They're so valuable..."

"Where? Seventh Uncle is going, and I'm just going with him. Have you heard of the Blood Devil, bah, Wang Quan Daoren (Daoist Wang Quan)? These things are congratulatory gifts for him establishing his sect."

Mu Fengliu pulls his younger brother down to sit, saying:

"Hurry up, time is tight. Seventh Uncle is probably far ahead already!"

The white crane has already taken flight.

"Wang Quan Daoren..."

Amidst the whistling wind, Mu Qingliu murmurs to himself.

In the past two years, few in the martial world have not heard of An Qisheng, let alone top sects like Wanjian Shanzhuang.

Naturally, he has heard his fellow disciples discuss this name more than once.

.......

Not only the Six Hells Demon Sect, but also Wanjian Shanzhuang, Da Longmen, Baiyue Villa, Zhengang Dao, Jishen Sect and other major factions, have also moved upon hearing the news, all sending people to Feng Province.

Witnessing a divine meridian master establishing a sect is itself a symbol of the sect's status.

They would come even if they were not invited.

Otherwise, if all the other sects went, and only they didn't, wouldn't that be a loss of face?

Moreover, whether or not they wanted to befriend a divine meridian Grandmaster-level figure, it was important to become acquainted.

Therefore, many residents of Nanliang City discovered that

During this snowy winter, the number of martial artists coming and going suddenly increased. For a long time, the small Nanliang City was almost overcrowded.

Of course, the most lively place was Yangxiao Hall.

"My goodness, this is going to kill me! Serving customers is more tiring than racing horses..."

At the entrance of Yangxiao Hall, the little monk Liu Ming, who already had a layer of fluff growing on his head, couldn't help but stick out his tongue.

On this snowy winter day, he had actually broken out in a cold sweat.

If he didn't have some minor skills, he would probably have collapsed on the ground.

This work of serving tea and water was not for humans.

"Heaven knows Daoist didn't invite them, so what are these people doing here, licking their faces to come?"

Liu Ming muttered inwardly.

Just thinking about it, he sighed a little. Today was the day Daoist Wang Quan established his mountain gate, but the Daoist didn't seem to have any intention of accepting him as a disciple.

Although he had taught him a single move of Sanshou, how could a single move compare to entering the sect?

Screech~~~

As he was thinking, a loud crane cry suddenly came from the high sky, deafening.

Looking up, he gasped:

"Mother! What big cranes..."

The two giant cranes were two or three people tall, snow-white all over, with wings like sharp swords. As they roared past, there was a burst of strong wind.

Liu Ming ran a few steps and looked up, only to see that on the back of the giant crane, there was also a white-clothed youth about the same age as him looking down.

However, the giant crane flew extremely fast and disappeared into the distance in an instant.

"These giant cranes, could they be the white cranes of Wanjian Shanzhuang?"

"It's probably them! It is said that Wanjian Shanzhuang raises many white cranes, and even understands human nature and can practice martial arts!"

"I said, how could no major sects come to Wang Quan Dao's establishment! After all, he is the world's top Grandmaster!"

In Nanliang City, there was an uproar, and many martial artists who saw the white cranes naturally recognized their origin.

Although few people from Wanjian Shanzhuang travel the martial world, their reputation is quite great. White clothes, swordsmanship, and elegant demeanor are much better than the appearance of the great monks of Huangjue Temple.

"Liu Ming! Liu Ming, where are you going, kid?"

A shout came from Yangxiao Hall.

Liu Ming ran out of the city in a puff of smoke.

Seeing this, Tie Shan shook his head. He could see that An Qisheng looked at this little monk quite differently, but he didn't seem to have any intention of taking him as a disciple.

But he didn't know why.

The same was true of the little guy named Sun En.

"The place where that Wang Quan Daoren is establishing his sect is just such a small mountain?"

On the giant crane, Mu Fengliu looked at the extremely inconspicuous small mountain at the edge of the continuous snow-capped mountains in the distance, and was slightly surprised.

For tens of thousands of years, in any era, any dynasty, divine meridian Grandmasters have been the most respected, their status comparable to that of princes.

Although this Wang Quan Daoren does not seem to have forged a divine meridian, how could people in the martial world only look at realm? Being able to kill four divine meridian grandmasters in a row, even if he is a person without internal force, will not affect his status in the slightest.

Even though most of the famous mountains and rivers in the world are occupied, such an existence can take anything at will. As long as they make a sound to occupy that mountain, no matter whether it is the martial world or the imperial court, even the original owner will never say no.

But this Wang Quan Daoren only sought out such a small mountain.

"Perhaps, this Wang Quan Daoren is unwilling to occupy other people's mountain gates for no reason?"

Mu Qingliu guessed.

For tens of thousands of years, most of the famous mountains with good feng shui have been occupied, and there are few unoccupied places left.

"This man is so murderous, how could he care about other people's opinions?"

Mu Fengliu smiled dumbly, feeling that his younger brother was too naive:

"Qingliu, you are the Third Young Master of my Wanjian Shanzhuang, the most likely person to inherit Great-Grandpa's mantle, you must not be so naive."

Mu Qingliu was about to say something when he suddenly heard a huge roar.

Roar~~~

A majestic roar, like a cow and a tiger, resounded through the sky.

Among the mountains, the air currents roared, and a huge creature, winding more than ten zhang (丈, a unit of length), suddenly soared into the air, breaking through the layers of clouds and currents, and probed its head into the wind and snow.

A roar of anger, shook a hundred li (里, a unit of length).

Dozens of miles away, the white crane had already let out a shrill cry, almost falling headlong.

Mu Fengliu's face turned pale with fright, and he hugged his younger brother tightly in his arms.

"Go down, go down!"

On the other hand, Mu Qingliu, although also startled by the Cold Flood Dragon, keenly realized that the Cold Flood Dragon had no malicious intent, it just didn't want them to fly over.

Immediately, he patted the giant crane's back, telling it to land.

Not far ahead, the middle-aged swordsman standing with his hands behind his back on the white crane's back frowned slightly, and then lightly reprimanded, telling the white crane to land.

Although they had never seen this Cold Flood Dragon, they knew that this Cold Flood Dragon was one of the mounts of that Wang Quan Daoren.

Whoosh~~~

Amidst the surging air currents, the giant crane landed.

"It's only ten miles, let's walk over."

The middle-aged swordsman glanced at his two nephews.

Mu Qingliu and the two nodded repeatedly.

But no matter how they drove them, the two white cranes would not move forward. The three of them had no choice but to let them go.

Walking not long, they arrived at Wang Quan Mountain.

After two pavilions, straight steps lead directly to the top of the mountain, without any fancy decorations, which makes the three of them feel a little unbelievable.

"We walk the martial world, how can we be without our swords?"

"Yes! My long knife cost three thousand taels (两, a unit of weight) of silver, made of cold iron, more important than my life, how can I hand it over to you casually?"

"We are here to congratulate, without any malice..."

At this time, many martial artists carrying knives and swords were gathered at the foot of the mountain, talking with several guarding disciples, which was quite chaotic.

Mu Fengliu and Mu Qingliu exchanged glances, both a little surprised.

For everyone in Jianghu, swords are no different from hands and feet. Very few sects ask for swords to be taken away.

For example, their Wanjian Shanzhuang, asking them to untie their swords is tantamount to provocation.

For this reason, the news that the imperial court wanted to collect all the weapons in the world aroused the antipathy of so many martial artists.

Without knives and swords, for many people who are good at using weapons, it is no different from a toothless tiger. How can this be tolerated?

"Wanjian Shanzhuang's Mu Hanfeng, the hero!"

"People from Wanjian Shanzhuang are here too!"

"Hero Mu!"

As the three approached, someone exclaimed, recognizing the middle-aged swordsman, and many people even cupped their hands in greeting.

Many people were also curious, Wanjian Shanzhuang always keeps their swords on their bodies, how should they deal with this Sword Removing Stone?

Mu Hanfeng nodded slightly to everyone.

He walked to the front of the pavilion along the road that the crowd spontaneously gave way.

Before the pavilion, there was a black stone tablet deeply embedded in the ground, with only three characters on it: 'Jie Jian Shi' (Sword Removing Stone).

At this time, in front of the stone tablet, there were also several people looking at it.

They were Zhao Changlin of the Jishen Sect, Mr. Lan of Baiyue Villa, Jin Tonghua of Da Longmen, and Yuan Baifei of Zhengang Dao.

"Brother Mu!"

When several people saw Mu Hanfeng, they all bowed slightly.

Mu Hanfeng also returned the salute one by one. Then, his gaze fell on the stone tablet.

Zhao Changlin and others didn't care, but were very curious about his reaction.

"Sword Removing Stone?"

A ripple arose in the depths of his eyes.

He only felt that the three characters on the stone tablet seemed ordinary, but his eyes flickered, and he seemed to see an ancient Taoist platform and a dark red guillotine in this stone tablet.

It actually contained an extremely powerful martial art that had already given birth to spirituality.

This imprint was restrained and not released, but it was not really not released. Anyone who stepped over the stone tablet with a sword would probably face the guillotine's head-on slash.

'Once this imprint is activated, it is probably equivalent to a casual blow from that Wang Quan Daoren. With his strength, no one below the divine meridian can withstand it.'

Mu Hanfeng had this thought in his mind.

Zhao Changlin and others probably discovered this, and the reason why they were late in going up the mountain was probably waiting for him.

He sneered in his heart, and suddenly held the long sword in his hand.

Whoosh~

The air under the mountain gate suddenly became still.

The expressions of the Xia Yi Men (Chivalrous Righteous Sect) disciples, who were acting as hosts, tightened, and they couldn't help but want to stop him.

Unexpectedly, Mu Hanfeng handed the long sword, along with the scabbard, over in his backhand.

"Hero Mu?"

"This, he just took off his sword?"

Everyone present was in an uproar.

They didn't expect that the first person to remove his sword was actually a master from Wanjian Shanzhuang.

The Xia Yi Men disciple was also stunned, and didn't dare to reach out to take the sword.

They had been walking the martial world for a long time, how could they not know who the person in front of them was?

People from Wanjian Shanzhuang dislike others touching their swords the most.

"Whoosh!"

Seeing that he was late to take the sword, Mu Hanfeng shook his wrist.

Only to see the air roaring, and the long sword had already been inserted into the opposite mountain peak with the scabbard.

"Everyone, please!"

Mu Hanfeng waved his sleeves and stepped onto the steps.

Mu Fengliu and Mu Qingliu looked at each other, gritted their teeth, also removed their long swords, and went up the mountain with gifts.