Ze Tian Ji

Edited by: Michyrr

"It should be the Unity Sword Art," Hu Thirty-Two said.

This name prompted Chen Changsheng to recall that legendary sword style.

Holy Maiden Peak was most renowned for South Stream Temple’s sword array.

It was said that countless years ago, even Zhou Dufu, the supreme expert beneath the starry sky, had been delayed by this sword array for a time when he was invading Holy Maiden Peak.

In the coup of the Mausoleum of Books, this sword array was also the reason the several dozen South Stream Temple disciples that Xu Yourong had left for Chen Changsheng’s sake had intimidated many experts.

The foundation of the South Stream Temple sword array was the Unity Sword Art.

This supremely exquisite sword art required two people to use, emphasizing the trust and connection between the user and their companion. Apparently, once mastered, two South Stream Temple disciples using the Unity Sword Art could defeat four opponents of the same level, while three disciples could defeat nine. Continuing in this fashion, the more disciples of South Stream Temple used the Unity Sword Art, the more frightening was the power they could display. The strongest version of South Stream Temple’s sword array was said to be formed from three hundred or more disciples, and one could imagine how powerful this was. Even an expert of the Divine Domain might not be willing to directly confront its edge.

It was no wonder that Xiao Zhang had mentioned that the sword array of those girls had been troublesome.

But Chen Changsheng still felt that there was something wrong.

The sword style used by these two South Stream Temple disciples was not the same Unity Sword Art that he had read about. It seemed to have been changed somewhat.

The problem was, just who could alter a supremely exquisite sword style like the Unity Sword Art? Not even Su Li might be able to do it.

......

......

Tang Thirty-Six had also heard Hu Thirty-Two’s words, through which he found out that this was South Stream Temple’s Unity Sword Art.

But he couldn’t care about this much. His sleeve had been torn, making him extremely angry. Looking at the two girls, he shouted, "You’ve made me unhappy!"

Zhexiu turned his head, not wanting to look at him.

Chen Changsheng replied, "It’s your own problem. What were you doing scaring them like that?"

Tang Thirty-Six angrily retorted, "You still haven’t actually married, so can you not protect the people of your wife’s home in advance?"

The two girls looked at each other in confusion. They had no idea what these people were talking about.

Tang Thirty-Six’s smiled faded. With a solemn expression, he raised the Wenshui Sword and said, "Please instruct me."

He naturally wasn’t really angry. He was showing his respect towards these two disciples of South Stream Temple.

The two girls felt the change in his mood, and their expressions also turned grave as they raised the swords in their hands.

Sword glows suddenly flashed once more on the mountain path. The trees around the stone gate were suddenly assailed by fierce winds that left mark after mark on their trunks.

Two cracks resounded, and then the two girls were forced back behind the stone gate. Their faces were pale, and only half their swords remained in their hands.

"Yield." Tang Thirty-Six tied the sword back to his belt. From start to finish, the Wenshui Sword had never left its sheath.

At this sight, the two girls finally sensed the difference in strength. They couldn’t help but feel despair, as well as a deep humiliation.

South Stream Temple was a holy land of the Daoist faith. Whether in the village or at other sects, they would always be regarded as fairy-like existences. No one had ever treated them with such disrespect.

In the past few days, when they guarded the mountain gate, they had encountered a few cultivators or ordinary travelers that wanted to enter the mountain. They had only needed to say a few words to make them retreat—not one had dared to intrude upon the mountain.

Even if the disciples of South Stream Temple were no match, they could not just allow invaders to enter Holy Maiden Peak.

They took an item from their sleeves, possibly a magical artifact that they intended to use to warn the mountain.

At this moment, two thick and broad palms fell on their shoulders, restraining their two most important meridians.

Hu Thirty-Two had silently passed the mountain gate and come up behind the two disciples.

He smiled and shook his head, indicating that they should not struggle.

What he thought was a suitably gentle smile was as frightening as a fiend in the eyes of these two girls.

Sensing a man’s hands on their shoulders, imagining how he only needed to use a little true essence to sever their meridians, thinking about how this man had so easily intruded through the mountain gate that they were guarding, the two girls were anxious, angry, and scared. Suddenly, they began to cry.

"I said that we shouldn’t copy the words on those books, as something was sure to go wrong."

"The senior sisters are busy every day with matters of the temple. They don’t have the mind to pay attention to us, and how could I know how to guard the mountain gate?"

The two girls sobbed as they talked, occasionally using their sleeves to wipe their tears. Their tear-stained faces were truly most pitiful.

Tang Thirty-Six repeatedly shook his head and thought, just what is going on in the temple that they had these two clearly inexperienced girls guard the temple gate?

No matter how tragically the girls wept, Hu Thirty-Two’s expression did not change. He maintained his faint smile and then glanced at Chen Changsheng.

Chen Changsheng understood his meaning and said, "I’ll go first and take a look."

Zhexiu said, "I’ll be in the shadows."

Saying this, he vanished into the forest. The blazing sun made the tree leaves cast countless shadows, and one of them was his.

......

......

After walking past South Stream Temple’s mountain gate, Chen Changsheng was still welcomed by a seemingly endless mountain path.

It was not appropriate for Nanke to appear right now, so Chen Changsheng pushed his speed to its maximum. Occasionally, he would use the Yeshi Step, appearing on the side of the path, then the west. Like a gale, he swept across the path. Only when the road turned would he leave a blur on the shiny surface of the green bamboo.

The graceful curves of the mountains made for a pleasing sight, but he had no mind for such things. He let the howling wind strike him, his eyes wide open as he stared at the path in front of him, looking out for the smallest changes. His spiritual sense was also traveling with the wind, sensing the activity in front of him, but its primary goal was to identify those arrays.

In her letters, Xu Yourong had not described the matters of South Stream Temple in too much detail, but she had spoken about the arrays and restrictions on the mountain path.

As expected, in the ten-some li of mountain path after the bamboo forest, Chen Changsheng had encountered several ingenious arrays. Even at his level of strength, even if he simultaneously struck with all his swords, he would still need a very long time to break through those arrays.

Fortunately, Xu Yourong had described these things many times, both in their conversation in the Garden of Zhou’s snowbound temple and in the Mausoleum of Books, so he had a certain understanding of these arrays. He was also the Pope, and even though the north and south factions of the Orthodoxy were somewhat different, they had still originated from the same source, so he managed to very quickly find the gate of life for these arrays and easily pass through them.

The gates of life for these arrays were often far from the mountain path, at some stream or by some boulder, but they pointed in roughly the same direction. He continued to run towards the cliff, and behind this cliff were clouds that seemed like they would never disperse. Holy Maiden Peak’s indistinct form lay within these clouds. Even so close, he still could not see its true appearance.