“Your Highness, have another bite of this.”
The maidservant speared a piece of honey-glazed ham with a silver pick and brought it to his lips.
Zhao Li opened his mouth and took it, chewing a couple of times before reaching out to pinch her waist, making her giggle.
“Boring.”
He suddenly slammed his wine cup onto the small table, splashing a few droplets of wine that soaked into the Suzhou embroidery runner spread across it.
“In this desolate wilderness, there isn’t even someone to sing a tune.
I traveled thousands of li just to watch two old men fight.
If it turns out dull, all the bumping and jolting of this journey will have been for nothing.”
The maidservant on his left quickly stepped forward to massage his shoulders.
“Please appease your anger, Your Highness. Sword God Lü and Sword Immortal Shen are both Earthly Sword Immortals.
When they fight, it will surely be a sight to behold.
When Your Highness observes their sword moves, your martial cultivation will soar sky-high. Once we return to the capital, let’s see who dares gossip behind your back.”
Zhao Li gave a huff and reached out to flick her chin lightly.
“You always know just what to say.”
Though he said this, a sharp glint flashed in the depths of his eyes.
This journey south to Jinyang City was by no means a whim.
Among the three princes of the Grand Zhao imperial family:
the First Prince revered Confucianism, the Second Prince believed in Buddhism, and only he, the Third Prince, favored martial arts.
He maintained eight hundred retainers in his princely manor in the capital, every single one of them possessing a cultivation of the Second Rank or above.
Every year, the stipends for these retainers alone consumed thirty percent of the tax revenues from his fiefdom.
He practiced martial arts himself as well, and had reached no small attainment.
By age twenty-six, he had entered the Mountain-Viewing Realm.
Though he could not compare to those god-given prodigies of the martial world,
he was already as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns among the imperial scions.
The common folk only knew that a clash between Earthly Immortals was magnificent to watch.
They did not know that it was far more than a mere spectacle.
When two sword immortals standing at the Peak of the Martial Dao went all out, the qi of heaven and earth would inevitably surge with violent turbulence.
The moment sword intent clashed against sword intent, vast quantities of heavenly and earthly law fragments would shatter and scatter across the area.
For the martial artists watching on the scene, it was a once-in-a-millennium opportunity.
If one could capture even a thread or two of sword intent fragments and comprehend even a fraction of the true essence of the Way of the Sword, it would suffice to advance one’s cultivation by leaps and bounds.
Yet for Zhao Li, what he sought was far more than that.
He bore imperial fortune; since his youth, a grand master had divined his fate, stating that within his destiny lay a wisp of Ziwei imperial qi.
Though insufficient to seat him upon that Dragon Throne, it allowed him to walk much farther along the martial path than ordinary men.
Over the years, relying on this wisp of Ziwei imperial qi, he had quietly cultivated all the way to the Mountain-Viewing Realm.
And relying on this wisp of Ziwei imperial qi, he could capture far more martial insights from every duel he observed than anyone else.
He had once watched a duel from afar between Old Immortal Qiu and a northern Saber King.
That single battle had allowed him to break through directly from the Inquiry Realm into the Mountain-Viewing Realm.
He believed this time would be no different.
In a life-and-death duel between two Earthly Sword Immortals, the burst of law fragments would be more than tenfold that of Old Immortal Qiu’s duel.
As long as he could capture the most central wisps of sword intent, stepping into the Abyss-Facing Realm would happen naturally, and he might even glimpse the threshold of the Wind-Riding Realm.
Thinking up to this point, Zhao Li lifted the window curtain and called outside.
“Someone come here.”
A guard rode closer, bowing from horseback.
“What are Your Highness’s orders?”
“Go to the carriage behind and invite Daoist Master Qingyangzi over. Say that I have questions to consult him on.”
The guard acknowledged the order and departed, the clatter of horse hooves gradually receding into the night.
A moment later, the curtain was lifted once more, and an old Daoist priest in a blue-cloth Daoist robe stooped to enter.
This old Daoist had snow-white hair and beard, with a lean and ascetic face.
Hanging at his waist was not a horsetail whisk, but an entirely pitch-black iron ruler.
Yet had anyone with a discerning eye been present, they would have recognized the origin of that iron ruler at a glance.
The Black Iron Heaven-Measuring Ruler.
This was one of the top three divine armaments in the present Daoist sects.
It was said that this ruler had neither edge nor blade, yet it could sever rivers and cleave mountains.
Across hundreds of years, those capable of wielding this ruler numbered no more than seven.
And this person was none other than the number-one figure in Third Prince Zhao Li’s Hall of Consecrated Retainers.
Originally a secular disciple of Mount Longhu, his Daoist name was Qingyangzi, possessing a Boundless Realm peak cultivation.
Years ago, having violated sect rules on Mount Longhu, he was expelled from the sect; while wandering the martial world, he had been recruited into Zhao Li’s manor.
From then on, he became the Third Prince’s most trusted martial arts advisor.
“Why has Your Highness summoned this poor Daoist?”
Qingyangzi sat upon the prayer mat across from the soft couch, resting the Black Iron Heaven-Measuring Ruler across his knees, his expression respectful without being servile.
Zhao Li waved his hand, signaling the maidservants to withdraw to the corner of the carriage.
Then, he poured a cup of wine himself and pushed it over to Qingyangzi.
“Daoist Master, on this journey south to Jinyang City, I have traveled thousands of li through grueling bumps and hardships.
If it ends up being a wasted trip, the loss will be immense.”
He paused and lowered his voice.
“Give me a frank assessment. How much can I truly gain from this trip?”
Qingyangzi did not answer immediately.
He lifted the wine cup and took a sip, closing his eyes to savor it for a moment before slowly opening them.
At the same time, an elusive smile surfaced in his eyes.
“Your Highness, do you know why Jinyang City is named Jinyang City?”
Zhao Li froze for a moment and knitted his brows.
“Isn’t it because of Mount Jinyang?”
“And why is the mountain named Mount Jinyang?”
“How would I know that?”
Qingyangzi stroked the long beard beneath his chin, speaking in an unhurried cadence.
“Mount Jinyang is the very place where a Golden Ram underwent tribulation and ascended in ancient times.
That Golden Ram was originally a water beast of the Heavenly River. Coveting the warmth of mortal life, it descended to the mortal realm without authorization, transforming into a mountain range to hibernate here.
Later, detected by the Heavenly Emperor, lightning tribulations were cast down. The Golden Ram successfully overcame the tribulation, transformed, and ascended away,
leaving behind only an entire mountain of metallic and iron qi.
Thus, within several hundred li around Jinyang City, mineral veins are exceedingly abundant.
It is precisely why Furnace-Listening Pavilion established its sect grounds not far from here.”
He paused, his gaze falling upon Zhao Li’s face, and added with deep meaning,
“The Golden Ram embodies the union of metal and water.
The Ram belongs to metal, and the Heavenly River belongs to water. Metal generates water, and water generates metal, perpetually engendering one another without end.
And Your Highness, within your very name, lies the character ‘Li.’”
Hearing this, Zhao Li’s furrowed brow slowly smoothed out, the corners of his mouth curling upward into a grin.
“Li, as in the Li River.
Daoist Master, are you saying that my name carries water, and Jinyang City corresponds to the auspicious omen of metal and water generating each other?”
“Precisely.
Your Highness bears the surname Zhao. Zhao is the imperial surname, carrying the bloodline of the True Dragon.
A dragon flourishes when meeting water, and solidifies when meeting metal.
Jinyang City borders the Eastern Sea, abundant in water qi, and is further supported by the ten-thousand-year metal and iron qi of Mount Jinyang.
Your Highness bears the Ziwei imperial qi, and coincidentally has water in your name. Coming to this land where metal and water generate each other—is this not the will of Heaven?”
Zhao Li’s eyes shone brightly upon hearing this, and he leaned further forward.
“Then by Daoist Master’s meaning, my martial cultivation will experience a major breakthrough on this trip?”
“More than that.”
Qingyangzi shook his head, a trace of solemnity entering his tone.
“Your Highness, when two Earthly Sword Immortals engage in an all-out battle, the qi of heaven and earth will violently surge.
When that time comes, sword intents will shatter, and law fragments will scatter in all directions.
For ordinary martial artists, capturing even a wisp or two is already an immense stroke of fortune.
But.
Your Highness is different.”
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