Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 715 - 28: The Former Scholar Visits Again (Two in One)

Chapter 715 -28: The Former Scholar Visits Again (Two in One)

Yuchi Jie was born into a military family of high nobility; he had seen plenty of grand estates and often roamed the military camps in the County City. Occasionally, he would even stand on the Commanding Stage with his hands on a wooden pole, his eyes widened, observing the spectacular sight of cavalry stirring up clouds of dust as they came and went.

Therefore, the current garrison of the Divine Martial Mansion wouldn’t rank very highly in his eyes. But he didn’t think it was any worse than the defenses one would find in an ordinary County City.

There’s a saying among scholars: “A mountain does not need to be high; if there’s an immortal, it’s famed. Water does not need to be deep; if there holds a dragon, it’s spirited.” Although this is often a self-comparison made in times of disappointment, it nevertheless encapsulates the essence of human sentiment and principles. It’s the same whether it’s the noble clans coming and going in the Imperial Court, or the sects and factions within the Jianghu.

If the Imperial Court has a respected Elder, then regardless of whether the family is thriving or declining, it can stand as a Noble Clan. If there’s a Grandmaster in the Jianghu, even if it’s just one or two thatched cottages on an isolated peak with three or four martial arts kids, they too can be ranked among the first-rate positions.

Now, there wasn’t just one Grandmaster within the Divine Martial Mansion. frёeωebɳovel.com

Wang Anfeng, Xue Qinshuang, Sikou Tingfeng—add the Qing Taoqi to the mix, and they were able to hold on to a Grandmaster like Cao Donglin, who was a Hero of Jiangdong. This was despite the situation where Gong Yu and another Fourth-Rank swordsman were engaged in combat.

The most frightening was the Famous General who had left countless extraordinary tales in the chaos of the Seven Kingdoms.

The Xuanyuan Family, that was…

Every time Yuchi Jie thought about it, he found it hard to keep from clicking his tongue in awe. Even someone as bold as he couldn’t help but feel his heart drumming in the presence of that amiable Elder.

Xuanyuan Hongsheng, a pillar among the four great noble families, an Elder among the seven major sects, a Grandmaster and expert who had made his name in the Jianghu for a long time—a Great Swordsman who could be counted within the past century. He had his right hand chopped off just like that, and what’s more frightening, he didn’t cause a big uproar by storming over in anger. That’s what’s truly terrifying.

Martial artists, especially swordsmen who are accustomed to wielding a sword with their right hand, using their High-Level Martial Arts with their right hand, can naturally adapt to training the left hand—it’s not a problem.

But the right hand that has drawn and sheathed the sword ten thousand times, a hundred thousand times, the Inner Strength and Qi Mechanism surging like a vast river—once gone, it’s like the great river flowing east, never to return. Along with it, the Sharp Essence, and the confidence of holding a longsword and believing there’s nowhere in the vast world one cannot go, have all completely dissipated.

The Inner Strength remains, the Martial Arts remain, but to climb back up in the realm of swordsmanship could at most reach Middle Third-Rank. That’s quite an achievement. The Heavenly Sect is considered to have shut its gates along with that severed right hand.

For the rest of his life, he can only bully those juniors who haven’t reached Grandmaster level. Anyone who becomes a Grandmaster, regardless of their talent and flair, is first-rate in the world. In this way, a Grandmaster’s capabilities are utterly wasted.

Xuanyuan Hongsheng of the Xuanyuan Family wielded the sword with his right hand, regarding the heroes of Jianghu lightly. With his left hand, he penned extravagance, dismissing swords with the words “master of both pen and blade; no need to wield a sword anymore” when Li Qidao severed his right hand.

Yet both the Xuanyuan Family and the One-Leaf Pavilion remained silent, swallowing this loss that was rare to come by in a century with a quiet resignation.

Many in the Jianghu wondered about the changing of the guard, a new generation replacing the old. It’s not that the younger generation hadn’t witnessed the fierce valor that once made Li Qidao renowned; even those who had witnessed it ponder if, during this time of great prosperity, even the Top Famous General who once traversed the Six Kingdoms, could have possibly retained his former glory.

As such, for the past twenty years, rankings within the Jianghu have changed—he who in his prime had consecutively defeated six Grandmasters from the Taoist Sect in an hour at their ancestral mountain, slipped lower in the rankings each time, and in recent years, had all but disappeared.

But as the saying goes, when an immortal gets involved, they truly terrify when they take action.

If there were another ten thousand soldiers under a General’s command, holding the stabilizing…

Yuchi Jie’s complexion turned pale as he dared not contemplate further.

He felt the weight of that easy-going, unkempt elderly man growing heavier in his heart, almost enough to compare with the Immortal of the Qingfeng Edge spoken about with such awe.

Wang Anfeng personally cooked some dishes, bringing the flavors from the land of Forgotten Immortals. Yuchi Jie, sensing the atmosphere, did not stay to be an eyesore. The meal was shared only between Wang Anfeng and Li Qidao.

Both Gong Yu and Sikou Tingfeng were cold by nature; when those two were together, their conversation was simple and direct, much more comfortable than being with others.

Li Qidao shook his wine flask at his waist, poured two bowls, and said, “You’ve grown so much, turning eighteen next year, and only just learning to drink. If you were in a big city, people would laugh at you for half a year.”

He continued, “Fortunately, fortunately, you didn’t inherit your father’s capacity for alcohol. You can’t handle a few bowls without falling under the table; that’s something you must have gotten from your mother.”

Then he mentioned, “If you ever have the chance or the connections to meet someone from the Dongfang Clan in the Jianghu, make sure you go to their household, just visit the outermost house. Don’t bother with the Family Head or the Elders; no need to care about them.”

“I’m not sending you to witness the Dongfang Noble Clan, as there’s nothing impressive about their martial arts. It’s just so that an old man with nearly blind eyes can get a look at you before his sight completely fades.”

Barely a few bites of food were taken from the dishes on the table.

The Elder drank a whole pot of wine and passed out on the table.

Wang Anfeng held his alcohol, bowl after bowl, thinking of the stories of the old Taoist in Jade Ruin Temple. In the tale, streets teemed with lanterns, scholars and maidens peered at each other across the streets, and then the incessant Taoist kicked the scholar through the ten-mile-long street, bustling with festive lights, right in front of the girl, laughing heartily.

Dongfang Ningxin.

Wang Anfeng murmured softly, draining the cup of wine in his hand.

Several days later, Sikou Tingfeng invited Gong Yu to a swordfight, but the latter declinded without entering the fray. Afterwards, he turned his attention to Wang Anfeng, but by then, Wang Anfeng and Xue Qinshuang had both vanished without a trace, leaving only a plain face with furrowed brows behind.