Chapter 98: Master and Disciple Duel with Swords

When Zhou Qian awoke, the sky had already darkened. He found himself lying in a shallow water pit; as he bent to rise, he realized he was on the embankment of the Qinhuai River. The river reflected the moonlight, shimmering with silvery glints. Yet, the splendid scene of Qinhuai, with its continuous flower boats and flickering lanterns, was gone tonight—only a few broken planks and fragments of wood floated gently on the waves.

“Did the Drunken Immortal win or lose? And how did I end up here?” Zhou Qian wondered. He only recalled striking the winged creature once before being knocked out by the residual energy from a duel between two others. Beyond that, his memory was blank. Rising to his feet, his hand struck something solid. Startled, he saw it was the Celestial Escape Mirror.

At this moment, the mirror’s divine light was subdued, and the inscriptions on its brass surface bore several cracks, indicating significant damage. When he lifted it, the mirror seemed to sense him and changed slightly. A flash of light revealed the figure of the Drunken Daoist within. The wizened face pressed close to the mirror’s surface, resembling a large flat disc. He tapped it lightly and murmured, “Should be intact,” before stepping back a few paces and saying—

“Zhou, lad, what you see now is the spiritual projection of this old Daoist. I truly gave those three demons a beating, driving them off in disgrace!” The Drunken Daoist was full of pride and confidence. “But we must keep hunting them down. That fire toad, Xiang Jie, is one thing, but the Zombie Daoist, Lu Lingzi, and the Flying Guest, Zhao Lei, are no ordinary opponents. Lu Lingzi is a disciple of the Qinglian Patriarch, and Zhao Lei belongs to the Crimson Sect, a disciple of the Golden Flower Matron. These two are titans of the demonic sect. If they learn of your presence and summon their brothers and juniors, this old Daoist’s two fists wouldn’t match four hands, and Luodu could well be reduced to ruins. We must be cautious. But you need not worry too much; the righteous Sword Immortal will arrive within days, so all will be well. The Drunken Immortal will return within five days—don’t despair.”

As his words ended, the mirror’s surface darkened and reverted to an ordinary bronze mirror, betraying no sign of a celestial treasure. Zhou Qian pondered for a moment but found himself helpless. He smiled wryly and headed home.

Fortunately, the title of “Little Sword Immortal” carried weight with the authorities. The night watchmen and patrolling officers did not trouble him, allowing him to pass freely. Soon, he glimpsed the outline of Hu’er Mansion and quickened his pace.

The main gate was slightly ajar, casting a faint glow. A graceful figure stood beside it. Zhou Qian smiled knowingly, his heart at ease—he did not need to guess who it was.

Ying Zhao wore a slight frown, occasionally peeking out. When she saw Zhou Qian, she smiled softly. Between them was a tacit, almost telepathic understanding—like fish in water, mutually supportive. Zhou Qian buried his fleeting envy of the Sword Immortal’s divine powers deep within his heart. Was this what it meant to envy only the bond of lovers and not the immortals? Zhou Qian was unsure, though he suddenly found himself thinking oddly about the best way to cook mandarin ducks—preferably stewed rather than fried.

After exchanging greetings and assurances of safety, they embraced and fell asleep without a word.

The next morning, as usual, Zhou Qian practiced his swordsmanship and breath control. He overheard the servants whispering about the previous day’s immortal duel on the Qinhuai River. It seemed the tale had spread throughout Luodu, with some exaggerating wildly as if they had witnessed the event firsthand. Several noble youths and officials had even been inspired to seek out immortals, scouring the city for traces of the divine. The market’s stock of miscellanea on gods and monsters sold out, unwittingly enriching the merchants.

“So the rumors along the way were not false after all. The Sword Immortal has truly returned to the mortal realm?” Zhou Qian mused as he walked, coincidentally meeting Old Sun, the steward.

Upon seeing Zhou Qian, Old Sun hurriedly said, “Young Master, the Master has returned from seclusion and wishes to see you!”

Zhou Qian was both surprised and delighted. “Earlier by three or four days, huh?”

They wound through the corridors and over a small bridge before arriving at Master Zhou Xun’s study. Old Sun excused himself and knocked. A deep, steady voice responded from within.

“Come in.”

Opening the door, Zhou Qian’s gaze passed over the incense burner and desk to see a middle-aged man sitting behind it. He was upright, head bowed, holding a scroll. The man appeared around thirty to forty years old, with long black hair flowing behind him, his features stern and seemingly indifferent to life and death. Yet his face bore a striking resemblance to Zhou Xun.

“Mas—Master?” Zhou Qian called hesitantly.

“Mm, I’m here,” Zhou Xun, or rather a greatly altered version of him, nodded slightly and turned a page, his attention fixed on the scroll.

“Master, have you succeeded?” Zhou Qian asked eagerly.

Zhou Xun shook his head. “All that could be done has been done. The results will be clear within three days.”

“But Master, your appearance and voice—”

“It’s quite mysterious, difficult to discern at a glance. At this moment, my corporeal form is in a strange state, somewhere between existence and non-existence. Flesh, bones, meridians, and hair seem to be dispersing and recombining. There’s a verse in the Sutra of Caution: ‘Buddha contemplates a bowl of water, eighty-four thousand insects; without reciting this mantra, it is like consuming all sentient beings.’ I suspect—and have tested this—that deep within this body lie countless ‘Buddha insects.’ The top-tier Sword Immortal nourishes these creatures by devouring the primal energy of heaven and earth, while cultivation is the method of feeding these ‘Buddha insects.’ If so, most mortals lack this aptitude because their ‘Buddha insects’ remain dormant. In other words, this is the very foundation of immortality.” Zhou Xun spoke casually but uttered words that shook the boundaries between the immortal and mortal realms.

“Bugs inside the flesh?” Zhou Qian was horrified. Was he made of insects? Would that make him a giant bug? Was Sister Zhao a mother bug?

“Not necessarily, but they must be quite similar. I owe this insight largely to the ‘Void Ghost Devouring Scripture’ found in the First Emperor’s tomb, which led me to this understanding.”

“Master, you have comprehended the method of immortality? When will you teach me?” Zhou Qian asked eagerly.

Zhou Xun hesitated unusually before answering, “It’s not that I’m unwilling, but I have little confidence in this method. Moreover, each person’s understanding of the ‘Void Ghost Devouring Scripture’ differs. Forcing cultivation could yield unpredictable results.”

Zhou Qian nodded in understanding but then voiced another doubt. “Heaven and earth have their cycles. If your ‘insects’ cannot absorb the primal energy, how did you break through?”

Zhou Xun smiled enigmatically. “By relying on one’s own life and lifespan. Success depends on whether your life can endure this transformation.”

That meant risking one’s life!

Zhou Qian’s expression darkened suddenly. After a moment, he asked, “Is cultivation truly that important?”

“I truly want to see what the scenery is like—”

“Ah—” Zhou Qian exhaled deeply. “These days, I will stay by your side.”

“It’s been a long time since I guided your sword techniques,” Zhou Xun said. “Today, with no other matters, I shall see how far your swordsmanship has advanced.”

“Very well!”

They moved to an open space near the study. Zhou Qian drew his Broken Courage Sword and asked, “Master, will you not wield a sword?”

Zhou Xun touched his hands. “Now, mortal iron can no longer harm me. You may perform your sword techniques with full force!”

“Excellent. I have long since mastered Master Linghu’s Broken Sword Four Forms and your Three Talents Sword Technique, even developing a few of my own moves. I wish to present them for your appraisal!”

Master and disciple, Zhou Xun and Zhou Qian each saw a profound battle spirit shining in the other’s eyes…