Chapter Eighty-Seven: The Martial Arts Cliff

The stone wall hard against the jade chamber crashed down with a thunderous roar, setting off a chain of changes. The jade chamber was plunged at once into darkness. The floor and walls of the stone room began to tremble and crack, debris raining down, yet the three men could barely keep their footing, and the fierce battle went on.

Lu Cunwen formed a hand seal, and with a flip of his palm the world seemed to turn over. Several stones as large as human heads hung suspended in midair. With a sweep of his hand and a clenched fist, the surrounding stones shot forth like arrows of lightning toward Zhou Qian. Zhou Qian gripped his sword and did not retreat, instead advancing straight into the onslaught. His sword light spread like a net, scraping against the stones and throwing off shower after shower of sparks, their reflections flickering in both men’s eyes.

When he had advanced three zhang, a palm print came striking in, accompanied by the roar of chanting. Without any visible movement, Dalabu Co appeared before him and made a bow as if saluting the Buddha. Zhou Qian hastily dodged, and behind him, where he had stood a moment before, there came a deafening crack and a thunderous detonation that sent him sprawling to the ground.

A Buddha’s bow? Zhou Qian was stunned. All beings are equal and may become Buddhas; for a Buddha to bend the waist is inequality, is unenlightenment, is sheer absurdity. No one could endure a Buddha’s bow. In years past, Linghu Ye had been wounded by this very move, and Zhou Xun had also told him that it was one of the rare killing arts of Dalabu Co Palace. When a successor used it, that meant he was fighting for his life. If the enemy did not die, then I die.

Pressing the attack in one breath, Dalabu Co swept his right palm toward Zhou Qian’s skull, while not far away Lu Cunwen also struck out, tongues of fire surging in from all sides.

But since Zhou Qian already knew Dalabu Co Palace’s killing art, how could he not have been on guard?

With no thought of self, with no stray念, his fallen body strangely slid forward by a foot. Sword light came up from the ground, evading Dalabu Co’s right palm and slashing toward the monk’s chest, intent on ripping him open from throat to belly.

This strike could not be avoided, nor could it be blocked. Zhou Qian had been preparing it for a long time, gathering and awaiting the moment. His essence, energy, and spirit were united; in his eyes there was only the sword. Man was sword, sword was man, and its edge blazed nakedly forth. This move allowed no retreat.

His left hand was severed at the wrist, yet it could not halt the Ghost Master Sword in the slightest. Before the blade had even arrived, the cassock was already torn open by the sword wind, and a red line of blood was born without injury. Then Lu Cunwen also threw himself into the move with all his strength, a blazing spear thick as a bowl thrusting in like a cone, a method uniting sorcery and martial arts. Zhou Qian’s left hand had nearly released five strands of black qi at once. The outcome could have been decided in that instant.

But a sudden upheaval struck. At last the stone chamber could no longer endure the force of the three men. The floor collapsed, and all three fell into the darkness below.

The wind howled, cold as a blade. Zhou Qian could only dimly make out a sheer cliff to the right. Gravel flew everywhere; blood and qi ran wild. With a burst of force, his body suddenly stalled in midair. He coughed up a mouthful of blood with a sharp cry, then seized the moment to drive the Ghost Master Sword into the rock wall with all the strength left in his body. Sparks burst in a long cascade from the wall. The hilt of the Ghost Master Sword grew searing hot, and the blade itself shone through like red-hot iron. By then Zhou Qian’s tiger’s mouth had long since split open, his arm numb and aching, almost on the verge of collapse.

No one knew how long passed before Zhou Qian’s feet finally touched ground. The sound of falling rock had long since ceased. He drew several deep breaths, forced back the trembling in both hands, and pulled out the Ghost Master Sword. Looking closely, he saw that the double-edged blade had become almost a single-edged saber. Pain and pity filled his heart. The sword he had used in training was one, and the one he carried while roaming the martial world was another; both were fine swords, and now one was broken and the other ruined. A swordsman should cherish his treasured blade, but Zhou Qian had not managed to do so, or rather, had not had the chance.

He looked around and discovered that this place was a dead end. The surrounding mountains rose like a ring of dark peaks enclosing the place, cliffs arched like folded arms, and within them lay a stretch of flat land of several thousand to several tens of thousands of acres. The ruined cave of the dark wind was on the cliff face above.

A single glance revealed no sign of the monk or Lu Cunwen. The ground was vast, and the light was dim. It would be very difficult to find anyone. For all he knew, the two might already have been dashed to death. The greatness of heaven and earth and mountains and rivers—how could human strength compare?

He tore strips from his outer garment and gave his hands a simple bandage, then continued onward. After walking for more than an hour, his energy at last ran low from the battle. He leaned against a huge boulder and dozed lightly.

A drop of water suddenly fell onto Zhou Qian’s face. He woke with a start. It was a dewdrop sliding from the rocks. So it was. He let out several long breaths. Though dark clouds churned overhead and he could not tell the time or direction, he still knew it must be around dawn. Breath does not lie, and Zhou Qian’s heightened sense of smell could easily distinguish the difference between the earth’s breath at morning and at night.

Stretching his body, he found his strength had recovered to seven or eight parts. That was one of the benefits of entering the realm of Inner Elixir. Zhou Qian was certain that if the other two were still alive, they would never be as he was. A false elixir could never compare with a true one; the difference was plain enough.

His eyes revealed a trace of killing intent. If he met them again, then it would truly be a fight to the death. You die, I live.

Zhou Qian judged that the place he was in was still within the First Emperor’s Tomb, and the rolling black clouds in the sky were formed by a great formation. Such a terrifying celestial sight, preserved for a thousand years without decay—this must be the formation eye of the First Emperor’s Tomb. The stone chamber was the outer appearance, and this was the inner core; the dark demon must be within it, formless and without substance. Zhou Qian instantly grew wary.

Because there was no sunlight and black mist drifted about from time to time, visibility was extremely poor. Zhou Qian walked until his feet went numb, and at last made out the outline of a sheer cliff ahead. A black shadow flashed by in front of him. Startled, Zhou Qian hurried after it. A dozen paces separated them, and the shadow also noticed him.

Before Zhou Qian’s eyes could even focus, the shadow had reached him. He drew the Ghost Master Sword to meet it, and in the blink of an eye they exchanged more than a dozen moves, each one perilous, each one lethal.

Very strong. Extremely strong. The other man’s swordplay was like quicksilver poured over the ground, leaving almost no opening to exploit. Every move carried impossible changes, every strike was heavy and forceful, rising like wind and thunder. Zhou Qian even felt himself beginning to lose the defense. Yet the deeper his confusion grew, the deeper his familiarity became.

Zhou Qian hesitated, and the other man only grew more ruthless. His right arm, holding the sword, suddenly thickened; blood and qi roared. He unleashed nine consecutive strikes, each aimed at a vital point. Zhou Qian hastily blocked them, but then the other man abruptly fused those nine strikes into a single sword. It fell like a meteor from the sky. With just one slash, Zhou Qian was sent flying more than ten zhang away. Ding— the Ghost Master Sword spun through the air and stabbed into the ground. Looking closely, one foot from the hilt there was a half-inch break in the blade, almost severing it in two.

Just as the man was about to follow up, Zhou Qian shouted at once, “Master, it’s me!”

The man froze. After a long hesitation, he said, “Zhou Qian?”

“It’s me, Master!” Zhou Qian nearly wept with joy. He touched the wound on his face. In just an instant, his own master had almost cut him down. There would truly be no reasoning that could be made of it.

The black shadow passed through the thin mist and drew near, revealing Zhou Xun’s old face. Zhou Qian finally let out a long breath. Just as he was about to speak, he heard Zhou Xun bark in anger, “You brat, how did you get here?”

Zhou Qian gave a bitter smile and hastily recounted everything that had happened after entering the First Emperor’s Tomb, from the dragon gate in the water, to accidentally entering the inner tomb, the battle at the Small Eight Trigrams Formation, the Immortal Master, and finally the sword duel in the Cave of the Dark Wind. It was all truly hair-raising.

Zhou Xun remained silent for a long while before sighing. “So that’s how it is. So much happened, and it is completely different from what I originally imagined.”

“Master?”

“I thought the court had heaven, earth, and human advantage all in its favor this time. Even if it could not wipe out the rebels in one stroke, it should at least have fought them to a standstill. That would have made my business easier and could also have preserved your life. I never expected Li Guangzhi to become more and more useless with age! Hmph! He cannot even deal with a few petty thieves, and in the end must have you cleaning up his mess!” Zhou Xun said without the slightest politeness.

“Let’s walk and talk.” Zhou Xun helped Zhou Qian to his feet, a smile curving his lips. “You seem to have some questions?”

Zhou Qian smiled wryly. “Master, ever since you entered the First Emperor’s Tomb, you’ve been acting like a ghost. Your disciple truly cannot make sense of it.”

Zhou Xun laughed heartily. “There were indeed some things I kept from you, though not out of any deliberate intention. If you want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“Did you know that the map of the First Emperor’s Tomb was split in two? One copy was obtained by the court, while the other, a duplicate personally drawn by the Great Imprisoned Lord, was in my hands. Those White-robed Marquess and Li Guangzhi from the Six Gates actually thought they had everything under control, as though everyone were being played in the palm of their hands.”

Zhou Qian stared blankly. “Master, you had already guessed it?”

“I’ve schemed for more than ten years. Naturally, I know whatever should be known. The court always acts for practical gain, laying plans everywhere. It certainly intended to take the lion’s share of the treasure. If it could seize the chance to eliminate Lu Cunwen in one blow, that would of course be better. And if nothing unexpected had happened, it should have succeeded. As for the men of the martial world, I fear they had long since become discarded pieces, bait. I thought that with your skill, even if you could not win, you should at least be able to run. And arranging you beside Li Guangzhi, though ostensibly to soothe the martial world’s heart, was also part of my plan. That should have been the safest place of all.”

“The court had its courtly schemes, and I had my own arrangements. The court wanted those vulgar material things; I disdained fighting for them. I wanted to seek the art of immortality, while the court thought I was indulging in wild fantasy. Fine then—each takes what he wants. We should have remained at peace. I never expected Lu Cunwen to turn the tables on me instead. Truly, human calculations cannot defeat heavenly chance.” Zhou Xun shook his head. “Still, so long as you’re safe, that is enough.”

Zhou Qian opened and closed his mouth several times before finally saying, “Master is indeed Master—cunning and old! No, no, shrewd beyond compare!”

“But shouldn’t you have said something to Uncle Tu and the others as well?” Zhou Qian asked, somewhat dissatisfied.

“Tu the Second is too ambitious. I couldn’t tell what thoughts he might have after hearing it, and you know what martial world people are like—each one arrogantly overbearing. If they knew, who knows what further variables would arise. I could not allow that to delay my disciple and me.”

In the end, Zhou Qian could only smile bitterly. So the black hand behind it all was actually his own master. And master was master. No matter how good he was to him, his nature remained just as cold and heartless, like his swordsmanship: no madness, no life. Obsessed with sword training, obsessed with the pursuit of immortality.

But that was not the most important matter. Zhou Qian was no saintly good soul; he merely still had one thing Zhou Xun had not explained. Was it intentional, or had he simply forgotten?

“Master, I entered the Inner Elixir realm several days ago,” Zhou Qian said suddenly after walking a while.

“Yes, I know. I saw it long ago.” Zhou Xun rarely smiled. “Well done.”

“Master!” Zhou Qian stopped, and said solemnly, word by word, “After entering the Inner Elixir realm, I finally felt what it means to stand on high and overlook all mountains. But the feeling you give me is like an ocean or a divine peak—its height unknown, its depth unknown. Your swordsmanship is the same: unrivaled under heaven, unrivaled among men.”

“Oh?” Zhou Xun raised an eyebrow. “What are you trying to say?”

“I am at the Inner Elixir stage, and so are you. Though I am younger, I dare say that even if I trained for another hundred years, I still could not reach your level. The martial path is like climbing a mountain: once one reaches the summit, there is no road left to walk. The way you are now... I am very worried!”

“Oh?”