Chapter 48: Tides by the Riverside, Someone Among the Flowers
Morning mist, dawn light, frost and dew are clear; birds sing, pine wind whispers, stream water hums.
Besides explaining and demonstrating the forty-nine moves of the Quanzhen Seven Swords to Zhou Yan, Sun Buer spent the remaining time circulating her internal energy to heal her injuries. By dawn, her injuries had recovered by nearly half, which greatly calmed her heart.
Qingjing Sanren was naturally worried that Qiu Qianchi would relentlessly pursue and kill her. Although she preferred peace, she had traveled the Jianghu extensively over the years and had seen all sorts of martial artists. She had never encountered a woman as fierce as Qiu Qianchi.
Now that half of her injuries were healed, even if the other party pursued her, she could at least put up a fight and wouldn’t be a burden.
Rustling sounds arose outside the tent as the early-rising runners began to boil water and prepare meals. Sun Buer emerged from the tent.
The fresh air carried the coolness of the previous night, making each breath refreshing and her mind calm and exceptionally clear. She wondered if Escort Zhou had practiced his swordplay last night. Traveling southward for five or six days would bring them to Jingzhou, and by then, there would be no more opportunities to review and refine. She thought this.
Sun Buer didn’t want to bother the runners to inquire about Zhou Yan’s condition. She walked leisurely towards a somewhat secluded valley on the side of the camp.
“Good morning, True Person Sun.”
A deep male voice sounded from behind her. Sun Buer recognized it as the head escort of Fu’an Escort Agency, Zhang Wangyue.
She turned around and said politely, “Good morning, Head Escort.”
Zhang Wangyue seemed to know Sun Buer’s intentions, as he smiled and said, “Escort Zhou has been practicing his swordplay all night. He’s in that valley over there.”
Sun Buer glanced in the direction the head escort pointed. It was precisely where she had intended to go to “dine on morning dew and dine on clouds and mist.” She thought that Zhou Yan must have gained a preliminary understanding of Quanzhen Internal Energy and knew how to absorb energy through the “Six Times” method of cultivation.
As she thought this, she suddenly heard Zhang Wangyue’s seemingly casual question, “When True Person takes on disciples, are they always female disciples?”
“Naturally!”
“I presume your esteemed disciple’s cultivation is not ordinary.”
Sun Buer didn’t understand Zhang Wangyue’s meaning, so she politely replied, “So-so!”
“Good!” Zhang Wangyue suddenly said this, cupped his hands, and said, “I won’t disturb you, True Person.”
“You’re welcome.”
The two figures passed each other. Sun Buer pondered what the head escort meant by “good.” Was it “good” in a so-so way? That didn’t seem right!
Zhang Wangyue, on the other hand, was thinking about that personal safety escort mission from many years ago.
Sun Buer was not one to overthink things. She quickened her pace slightly. As she neared the valley, she saw Huyan Lei practicing spear techniques, Wang Kui practicing saber techniques, and Shi Baichuan practicing Iron Fan techniques in the morning mist.
Qingjing Sanren sighed. Even the disciples of the Quanzhen Sect were not this diligent.
As she moved through the morning mist, the fog drifted with the wind. Zhou Yan’s figure appeared in Sun Buer’s sight. She saw the young man holding a sword gesture with his left hand, his left foot stepping out, and a move called “Dingyang Needle” thrusting upwards. This move was full of spirit and energy, with the force, internal energy, form, and power all perfectly balanced, appearing as if he had put in a great deal of diligent effort.
Sun Buer was a little stunned. She knew that this move, while seemingly ordinary, required months of effort for someone with average talent to achieve without the slightest flaw.
Yet Zhou Yan had grasped its true meaning overnight.
Sun Buer gave a wry smile. “No wonder Senior Brother would teach him Quanzhen Internal Energy. With such martial talent, anyone would be tempted. It seems my worries were unnecessary.”
Her disciple Cheng Yaojia then appeared in her mind. She still hadn’t grasped the essence of this move. Her thoughts then began to drift. Although Zhou Yan was from an escort background, he had an extraordinary appearance and a chivalrous demeanor. Heroes and valiant figures are not judged by their origins. She wondered if her disciple would like him.
“Pah, why am I thinking such nonsense?” Sun Buer snapped back to reality, laughing and scolding herself. “If my disciple and Zhou Yan are fated, they will meet across a thousand li and grow old together. If they are not fated, they will be close but unable to hold hands. Let fate decide.”
Appreciating Zhou Yan’s martial talent and seeing that he had already gained considerable proficiency in Quanzhen Swordplay, she felt cheerful and left without disturbing him.
Throughout the night, Zhou Yan had become familiar with the forty-nine moves of Quanzhen Swordplay. His most proficient move was “Dingyang Needle.” He recalled that in the world of the Divine Condor, when Yelü Qi used this move, Li Mochou was startled and dared not underestimate it. He practiced the Yue Family Fist Manual, first focusing on Sanshou and Elbow Techniques. Now, practicing Quanzhen Swordplay, he naturally prioritized mastering a few moves. His proficiency in “Dingyang Needle” was a result of this.
As the sky gradually brightened, Zhou Yan finished his practice. He took his Iron Bow and shot a few rabbits and mountain chickens to take back. However, while practicing Quanzhen Swordplay, he couldn’t help but think of Jade Maiden Swordplay. He wondered if Li Mochou was also diligently cultivating.
Zhou Yan believed so. Although his interactions with Li Mochou were brief, he could tell she had a competitive nature. If guided properly, she could become the most formidable Red Practicing Fairy in the world.
After breakfast, the escort team set off southward, traveling safely without any trouble from Qiu Qianchi or any other disturbances.
As night fell, the escort team entered the Jingzhou territory and set up camp to rest, an atmosphere of relief permeating the air.
After dinner, Zhou Yan practiced as usual.
The camp was not far from the riverside. Zhou Yan found a quiet spot and first practiced “Free and Easy Journey,” followed by “Yue Family Scattered Hands” and “Elbow Technique.”
The terrain is steep and rugged, the gorges narrow and the plains scarce.
This described the Yangtze River section in Jingzhou. As Zhou Yan practiced with growing enthusiasm, he saw the sight of surging waves crashing against the shore, creating a thousand piles of snow. He took off his shirt and, bare-chested, practiced the Subduing Dragon Eighteen Palms, “Kanglong Regret” and “Shenlong Tail Whip,” in the waves.
The turbid waves surged forward. He bent his left leg slightly, curved his right arm inward, and swept his right palm in a circle. With a whoosh, he pushed outward. With a loud “boom,” an arc-shaped water curtain splashed from his palm, like a beautiful water lotus.
The wave crests rolled back, and the undertow surged, causing his body to sway. Zhou Yan pondered the words “Fullness Cannot Last” within the palm technique.
The true power of “Kanglong Regret” lay in the retraction and extension of the palm force, just as the power of the current river tide lay not in the “crash,” but in the “rolling back.”
What is learned on paper is ultimately shallow; to know this matter truly, one must practice it oneself.
Zhou Yan understood this principle, but now, experiencing it firsthand in the river tide, his comprehension of “Kanglong Regret” unknowingly deepened by another level.
Stars hang low over the vast plain, the moon surges with the great river’s flow.
In the reed marsh not far from Zhou Yan, clusters of yellow flowers swayed in the river breeze. Suddenly, the reeds rustled and flattened in all directions. A figure stepped forward with rapid strides, leaped into the water with a “bang,” and within dozens of breaths, reappeared ten zhang away in the river.
“Did I dig up your ancestors’ graves? I just cursed your father, your mother, and your ancestors, and you’re still haunting me.”
Zhou Yan was startled. He recognized the voice as Hou Tonghai, the Three-Headed Flood Dragon. He squatted down, fumbled in the water for a moment, and grabbed a stone.
From the reed bushes, Huang Rong’s voice rang out, “Three-Headed Ghost, you’re dead.”
Hou Tonghai roared in anger, “Don’t call me Three-Headed Ghost.”
“Three-Headed Ghost, what did you say?”
“I said don’t call me Three-Headed Ghost.”
“You admitted yourself that you’re the Three-Headed Ghost.”
“I curse your mother.”
“I’ll cut out your tongue and turn you into a tongueless ghost.”
“Where are all these ghosts coming from?” Hou Tonghai roared like thunder.
In the darkness, the stone that whistled through the air struck the Three-Headed Flood Dragon with a “bang.”
“Damn it, there really is a ghost!”
The Three-Headed Flood Dragon rubbed his sore chest and plunged back into the river.
