Lu Zheng and Shen Ying reached their destination and pressed deeper into the mountains.
Nestled among the peaks lay a realm ringed by seven rivers, shrouded in cloud and mist, faintly glowing with rosy light. To the left stretched an ever-present sea of clouds; to the right, stone spires stabbed the heavens. Birds of prey circled overhead, deer and monkeys roamed the slopes, sword qi occasionally stirred the winds, and streaks of sword light flashed back and forth, illuminating the sky and filling the air with an immortal aura.
This was the renowned abode of sword immortals and sword heroes.
Feiyu Mountain!
“Another reclusive sect, dozens of li from the nearest official road,” Lu Zheng remarked as he loosened the reins.
While speaking, he circulated the cloud qi within his body. Pure white cloud true qi surged, condensing above his head into a sizeable cloud bank.
“Lu Zheng, outer lay disciple of White Cloud Temple, together with my wife of the Shen family, comes to return the scripture and pay respects to the mountain.”
His voice was not loud and carried no deliberate projection, yet those who needed to hear would surely hear.
As Lu Zheng revealed his profound cultivation, a sword light immediately rose from the opposite peak. It shot forth like an arrow leaving the bowstring and arrived nearby in an instant. The light touched the ground, revealing a middle-aged man.
The man wore coarse cloth robes, sported a short beard, and possessed sword-like brows and eyes that gleamed with inner light.
“Zheng Boxian of Feiyu Mountain greets Young Master Lu and his honoured wife!” Zheng Boxian cupped his hands in salute.
Lu Zheng and Shen Ying dismounted and returned the courtesy with graceful bearing. “Greetings, Friend Zheng!”
“This way, please!” Zheng Boxian stepped aside and gestured invitingly.
“Our thanks!” Lu Zheng and Shen Ying expressed gratitude, tied their horses at the foot of the mountain, and followed him upward.
For this first meeting, out of courtesy and respect, they did not fly but walked the mountain path like ordinary visitors.
At their level, saving a little time mattered far less than proper attitude.
Clearly, Lu Zheng’s politeness and deference as a master from the far stronger White Cloud Temple greatly pleased Zheng Boxian. He smiled the entire way, introducing the scenic spots of Feiyu Mountain.
“Strange peaks and bizarre rocks, exquisitely unique, perpetually shrouded in cloud and mist, with stone spires like swords. Feiyu Mountain truly found itself a divine immortal dwelling!”
More than a hundred disciples of Feiyu Mountain lived on and around the peaks. Though deep in the wilderness, the place was anything but primitive. Neat fields and pathways crisscrossed the land, and the residences were quiet and elegant.
Following Zheng Boxian, Lu Zheng spotted scattered Feiyu Mountain disciples but saw no servants.
Zheng Boxian explained, “Disciples of Feiyu Mountain handle all tasks themselves. We have no miscellaneous attendants.”
Luing nodded in understanding. Each sect had its own way of doing things.
Even White Cloud Temple and Jinhua Sect employed labourers such as fire-tending Taoists for menial work. These people were granted basic body-strengthening methods and counted as miscellaneous disciples. Though of low status and limited talent, they learned some health techniques or talisman-drawing skills. When they grew old and left the mountain, they became respected local experts, and with White Cloud Temple backing them, they lived comfortably in their home towns.
Thus, the few dozen miscellaneous disciple slots White Cloud Temple opened every few years were fiercely contested.
Feiyu Mountain was different. Clearly they required disciples to be entirely self-reliant: farming, cooking, repairs, sewing; everything fell to the disciples themselves. Whether this was part of their cultivation or simply because they lacked funds to hire help, who could say?
Ahem.
Along the way they greeted passing disciples. Jingzhou truly had abundant mountains and waters that nurtured beauty; the men were handsome, the women stunning, like an idol training camp. Combined with the lofty bearing gained from sword practice, one could set up a camera and start streaming immediately.
Hm. Lu Zheng nodded to himself. Feiyu Mountain was not very friendly to ordinary people. He should not visit too often; the blow to one’s confidence would be too severe.
Lost in thought, he followed Zheng Boxian to the sect’s main hall halfway up the primary peak.
Upon entering, a woman wearing an apricot-yellow gown embroidered with a hundred flowers and a small jade-green sword hairpin rose from the seat of honour to welcome them.
Though she appeared only about thirty, her features were refined and heroic, her eyes held gentle light, and her entire bearing was warm and kindly, like the sister next door.
“Lu Zheng, outer lay disciple of White Cloud Temple, pays respects to Immortal Han of the Sword!”
“Shen Ying of the Peach Blossom line pays respects to Immortal Han of the Sword!”
This was none other than the current sect leader of Feiyu Mountain Sword Sect, Immortal Han of the Sword.
Immortal Han inclined her head with a smile. “White Cloud Temple flourishes with abundant fortune and worthy successors.”
As a junior, Lu Zheng originally would not have qualified for a direct audience with Immortal Han; when he previously visited Jinhua Sect he had only met the elders in charge of logistics.
But times had changed. His cultivation had advanced by leaps and bounds, surpassing even the older generation of Feiyu Mountain. Naturally he now warranted a personal reception from the sect leader.
“Please be seated.”
“Our thanks to Immortal Han!”
Lu Zheng and Shen Ying greeted the two elders accompanying her, then took their seats in order of seniority and accepted tea from a disciple.
There was no need for roundabout talk. Lu Zheng sipped his tea, praised its flavour, and went straight to the point.
“Some years ago, while in the Netherworld Realm, this junior happened to obtain a silk scroll bearing the Feiyu Cloud-Riding Sword Scripture. At the time my abilities were limited and, excited by the find, I immediately began cultivating it on my own. Fortunately I only practised it myself and never transmitted it to others.”
He explained the background, then continued. “Later I met Yan Hongxia of Dengyun Mountain and learned it belonged to Feiyu Mountain’s lineage. I should have returned it immediately, but my cultivation was then insufficient and my skills unrefined, so I did not make the journey.
Now that this junior possesses some ability to protect himself, I have brought my wife to return the scripture and pay respects to the mountain, while also admiring the grandeur of a great sword cultivation sect.”
“Young Master Lu is too modest. White Cloud Temple is a major Taoist sect, its Primal Cloud Qi renowned far and wide, its cave-heaven rich with spiritual energy. How could our humble Feiyu Mountain compare?” Elder Xue Zhen said humbly.
“Elder Xue flatters me. Feiyu Mountain’s Three Feathers, Seven Rosy Clouds, and Ten Divine Swords shake the world. How could it be called a small sect?” Lu Zheng laughed. “Today, having ascended the mountain, I see the reputation is well deserved: stone peaks like swords, immortal qi swirling. Truly worthy of the name Feathered Ascension and Rosy Cloud Flight.”
While at White Cloud Temple, Lu Zheng had studied the intelligence files on Feiyu Mountain. When it came to mutual praise, he knew exactly where to scratch the itch.
The Three Feathers, Seven Rosy Clouds, and Ten Sword Cultivators were figures from several generations of Feiyu Mountain. They had descended from the skies on flying swords to slay demons and uphold justice, earning tremendous fame before retreating to secluded cultivation in the rear mountains, rarely appearing again.
Having spoken, Lu Zheng withdrew a wooden box from his robes, gently placed it on the table, and opened it. Inside lay a silk handkerchief: the original copy of the Feiyu Cloud-Riding Sword Scripture he had obtained years ago.
Immortal Han extended her hand. The silk handkerchief flew into her grasp. She unfolded it, examined it, nodded, then her expression dimmed.
Seeing her reaction, Zheng Boxian’s eyes flickered. He hesitated before asking, “Sect Leader, this scripture, could it be…”
Immortal Han sighed softly. “It is indeed Junior Sister Guo’s handkerchief.”
