Chapter Twenty: Mu Fengqing
“Sword, come...!” A voice echoed along the mountain path.
At that moment, Wang Yuncheng and the heirs of the three great families of the South Sea stood stupefied, gazing blankly at the distant sky, where a white rainbow streaked across the sun. It was unmistakably a sword, gleaming as it soared.
Zhang Chen had often seen Qin Yi idly playing with that sword, but he had never imagined Qin Yi could command it to fly. In truth, only cultivators at the Divine Transformation Realm could control objects in flight, and sword-riding was even harder—a feat far beyond mere object flight.
“How can this be?” Wang Yuncheng was the first to recover his senses, staring at the radiant streak with barely concealed agitation. He simply could not believe that Qin Yi, with his current cultivation, could ride a sword. Moreover, the sword itself was extraordinary; Wang Yuncheng, accustomed to grand spectacles and rare treasures, had never heard of a Foundation Establishment cultivator capable of sword-riding.
Not only Foundation Establishment—even among Divine Transformation cultivators, those who could ride swords were few and far between. Among Golden Core cultivators, sword-riders were exceptional, almost legendary. Within the world of swordsmen, there was a saying:
“If one can command a sword, no matter his current standing, his future is boundless.”
Thus, even from this fleeting display, Qin Yi’s prowess was evident.
Qin Yi caught the white rainbow—his own sword, Flying Snow. It was not that his present cultivation allowed him to ride a sword; rather, Jiang Yao had arrived nearby with Flying Snow, and Qin Yi sensed her presence, orchestrating this scene.
Wang Yuncheng and the heirs of the three families watched as Qin Yi gripped Flying Snow with one hand, their expressions soured. Any notion of teaching Qin Yi and Zhang Chen a lesson had vanished. First, Qin Yi’s unexpected skill left them astonished; second, judging by Qin Yi’s earlier actions, he was hardly as easy to handle as they had imagined.
Just as Wang Yuncheng and the others were about to depart, they were stunned to see two more streaks—one red, one blue—cutting across the sky. Each streak bore a rider. This sight piqued their curiosity about the newcomers.
“Jiang Yao,” Qin Yi said, gazing at the red light.
“Senior Brother Mu Fengqing,” He Mengwei, now free from the binding runes, looked at the blue light, recognizing his senior from Nanhua Peak.
Qin Yi heard the name Mu Fengqing and felt a sudden familiarity. He turned to He Mengwei and asked, “Mu Fengqing—is he the one famed for monopolizing eighty percent of Nanhua Peak’s renown?”
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“You’ve heard of Senior Brother Mu?” He Mengwei asked in surprise. Mu Fengqing’s charisma was unrivaled on Nanhua Peak, his cultivation unmatched among his generation at Taiyi Mountain, and his reputation widespread. But he didn’t expect Qin Yi, a man, to remember him so well.
“I’ve heard his name,” Qin Yi replied with a casual smile, as if it were mere hearsay. In truth, he was cursing Mu Fengqing inwardly. How could he not know him? He’d known of him in his previous life. Nine years ago, when he and Jiang Yao triumphed at the Taiyi Mountain’s quinquennial Dao Conference, Mu Fengqing had just entered Taiyi Mountain and shamelessly pursued Jiang Yao. Qin Yi could never forget that.
He’d also heard that four years ago, before their entry into the mountains, Mu Fengqing advanced to the quarterfinals at the Dao Conference. Though he stopped short of the final eight, Nanhua Peak had two disciples among them that year.
Now, that senior brother who entered the quarterfinals alongside Mu Fengqing—and later claimed second place—was away training. Thus, Mu Fengqing naturally became the representative of Nanhua Peak’s new generation. Looking back, Qin Yi thought himself rather lacking at the time, letting a mere upstart vie so boldly while he… But it no longer mattered. This time, he would not let Jiang Yao slip from his embrace.
“Jiang Yao, Senior Sister Jiang Yao!” Jiang Yao’s sword-riding speed surpassed Mu Fengqing’s, so she arrived first. As she landed, Qin Yi and Zhang Chen hurried forward to greet her, with Qin Yi boldly taking her hand, which made Jiang Yao flush with annoyance.
Zhang Chen was unfazed, but Wang Yuncheng and his companions were unsettled. After five years as disciples of Taiyi Mountain, how could they not recognize the red-robed beauty before them, a figure as ethereal as a celestial maiden?
“Rare to have Senior Sister Jiang Yao visit Nanhua Peak. Mu pays his respects,” Mu Fengqing descended shortly after Jiang Yao, clad in flowing white robes and handsome in appearance—well deserving of his reputation. Yet, upon seeing Qin Yi holding Jiang Yao’s hand, his expression turned sour.
“Qin Yi,” he said, scrutinizing Qin Yi’s features, clearly surprised. Memories of the entry ceremony four years ago flashed through his mind, and he quickly composed himself, though he could not help but narrow his eyes at the pair’s clasped hands.
“He Mengwei, what happened here?” Mu Fengqing asked, looking at Qian Fu, who was half-supported by He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang.
“He’s the one who severed Qian Fu’s tendons.”
The answer came not from He Mengwei but from Wang Yuncheng, who offered no respectful address to Mu Fengqing—he had no need. Moreover, he twisted the truth, claiming Qin Yi had severed Qian Fu’s tendons, not merely injured them. His motives were clear.
“Oh! So, Qin Yi has harmed a fellow disciple. As a member of the Discipline Hall, I must intervene. Wouldn’t you agree, Senior Sister Jiang Yao?” Mu Fengqing responded with a righteous air, then directed his question to Jiang Yao.
“Hmph! Distorting the truth—he only injured the tendons, not severed them. Besides, the four of them provoked us first. How can you call it harming a fellow disciple?” Zhang Chen, hearing Wang Yuncheng and Mu Fengqing echo each other, felt thoroughly uncomfortable and immediately retorted.
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“Harming a fellow disciple is a matter for you to investigate, Senior Brother Mu,” Jiang Yao replied calmly.
“Heh, Senior Sister speaks wisely.” Mu Fengqing chuckled, then reached out to examine Qian Fu’s knees. Afterward, he shot Wang Yuncheng an unhappy look.
Wang Yuncheng pretended not to notice, thinking, “If you won’t even bother to check their claim about the injury, just have Qian Fu put on a show, then everything falls into place.” He failed to realize that Jiang Yao’s cultivation made seeing through such tricks effortless—something Mu Fengqing knew all too well, for he deeply admired his fearsome senior.
“Hmm! Though Qian Fu’s tendons are not severed, I believe Junior Brother Qin Yi should still apologize. Don’t you agree, Senior Sister Jiang Yao?” Mu Fengqing pressed, evidently unwilling to let Qin Yi go.
Jiang Yao was already irritated. She never cared for Mu Fengqing’s chatter—he was exhausting. After spending so much time dealing with him today, her patience wore thin. But seeing Qin Yi still holding her hand, she spoke again, though her tone was far less gentle: “Sparring among disciples is common. Why must Junior Brother Mu be so petty?”
This remark made Mu Fengqing shudder. He heard the anger in Jiang Yao’s words and, whether for her strength or personal reasons, dared not press further. He could only echo her with a forced smile. “Indeed, Senior Sister is right.”
“You should all return to your own affairs,” Mu Fengqing said, his tone cold as he addressed Wang Yuncheng and his companions. Though their status was high, being rebuffed here at Taiyi Mountain was infuriating, but they restrained themselves, for this was not their domain. With the matter settled, they had no choice but to leave.
Just then, Qin Yi, who had remained silent, turned his gaze to the golden bundle in Wang Yuncheng’s hand and called out loudly:
“Wait...!”