Sword of Coming

The ferry station where Chen Ping’an’s ship was set to depart was different from the one for the ship traveling to Cloud Pine Nation. After paying ten snowflake coins, he received a wooden badge and submitted in exchange the seal given to him by the chief military governor’s manor. After that, Chen Ping’an traveled to the ferry station together with dozens of other people.

They were directed to the entrance of an underground tunnel, which was around twenty meters wide, and it was riddled with phrases engraved by renowned figures of eras past. The interior of the cave was brightly lit, and everyone made their way to the tunnel for about fifteen minutes before arriving in a massive underground hall.

The stone walls on either side of the hall were covered in life-like murals depicting gorgeous celestial maidens adorned in beautiful dresses with long, flowing sleeves. The facial features of the women were clearly visible, and they were all quite voluptuous and curvaceous but stopped short of what would be categorized as chubby.

Docked at the ferry station was a three-story louchuan[1] with a dragon’s head on the bow and a dragon’s tail on the stern. The louchuan was enormous, almost rivaling the size of an imperial warship, but aside from that, it appeared to be no different from the average mortal ship. In addition to the group of people that Chen Ping’an was in, over 300 people were already gathered at the ferry station.

There were also all types of shops at the ferry station, most of which were quite small, and instead of plaques hanging above the entrance, they only had signs hanging outside.

The shops sold all manners of wares, such as calligraphy and art pieces, snakes and fruits, as well as some specialty local products of Water Combing Nation, including small ground gowns, cockfighting cups, pine needle calligraphy pieces from Pine Stream Nation, and elm wood carvings from Ancient Elm Nation.

Earlier, Chen Ping’an had paid ten snowflake coins to rent a room on the second floor, while a room on the first floor only cost three snowflake coins, which was equivalent to 3,000 taels of silver. While it was true that this was an immortal ferry station, and the journey was quite a long one, this was still an astonishing price compared with how much it would normally cost to go on a long journey in a mortal empire.

Thankfully, Chen Ping’an had traveled on a Kun ship in the past, so he already knew what to expect. On top of that, after selling the Five Mountain Bowl and that piece of lightning strike ebony at the Green Beetle Shop, he had an additional 450 snowflake coins in his pocket, so he had the money to spare. Additionally, he had to practice his fist techniques and walking meditation every day, so he couldn’t afford to be stingy here.

There was a Qi refiner seated on a taishi chair on a small stone platform at the edge of the ferry station, and he was holding a teapot riddled with spots that made it look like a fat partridge. He had taken countless sips of the teapot, yet the tea inside still hadn’t run out.

The Qi refiner issued a verbal reminder to everyone that the ship was going to be setting off in an hour, and that they could consider buying some quality and affordable specialty local products to take back home before boarding. He then went into particular detail about the ground gowns of Colorful Garment Nation and the bonsai plants of Mountain Orchid Nation, sparing no praise as he vehemently advertised these two things.

Additionally, he also specifically recommended two shops, mentioning them by name. Sure enough, many of the ship passengers were convinced to visit those shops, and this was met with either envy or disdain from the shopkeepers of the other shops, who didn’t have funds required to recruit the Qi refiner’s advertising services.

Chen Ping’an was standing among the crowd in silence, and he suddenly thought of Liu Gaohua, the son of the Blusher Prefectural Overseer, as well as the tree spirit scholar of Ancient Elm Nation and the cockfighting cup that they had been carrying with them at the time.

He heard that these cups were far more valuable elsewhere, so he also purchased a pair of cockfighting cups for one snowflake coin each. After stowing the poplar box that contained the pair of cups away, he purchased a large bag of fresh fruits, which he carried in his hand.

Standing among the throngs of people, Chen Ping’an had a pair of straw sandals on his feet, a sword case and a cloth pouch on his back, and a bag full of fruits in his hand.

There were many people on the ferry station, and were all quite tightly packed together, but it was still far quieter here than in the prefectural markets. Everyone mostly kept to themselves or formed small groups chatting quietly to one another.

Very few people raised their voices, and some children were unable to suppress their childish exuberance, but they were all accompanied by guardians who held them tightly by the hand to prevent them from running around.

When it came to traveling Qi refiners, none of them would openly display the sects or powers that they belonged to, and they certainly wouldn’t reveal their true cultivation bases.

The Lower Five Tiers and the Middle Five Tiers amounted to a total of ten tiers. That was set in stone, but humans weren’t. The teachings of sages described humans as creatures with similar natures, but vastly differing personalities.

The pursuit of the Great Dao was an extremely long journey. Who could predict how the personality of a Qi refiner would change over the course of decades, even centuries of cultivation?

If one were to constantly act without foresight or discretion, relying on their power to do whatever they pleased, then there would inevitably come a day where they would be punished for their ill discipline and be stomped into the ground by someone else.

However, for those who were fortunate enough to belong to prestigious immortal powers, such as Divine Edict Sect, True Martial Mountain, Wind Snow Temple, and particularly Lake View Academy, they still demanded respect wherever they were on the continent even if they weren’t direct disciples, and one certainly had to think twice before crossing such individuals.

Additionally, if one were fortunate enough to have a master at the Golden Core Tier or the Nascent Tier, then that would also ensure their safety under the vast majority of circumstances.

Grudges and vendettas among Qi refiners could last for the span of several lifetimes for a mortal, so it was never a good idea to make enemies for no good reason. The blood feud between Wind Lightning Field and Sun Scorch Mountain was a perfect example of this. Su Jia had once been a proud celestial maiden who possessed beauty and aptitude in equal measure, yet what had become of her since?

Her top-tier Sword Nurturing Gourd had been confiscated by her sect, and her sword heart and cultivation base were both in tatters. All of a sudden, she had completely faded into obscurity, much to the dismay and sympathy of countless young male Qi refiners who regarded her as the woman of their dreams.

Chen Ping’an remained silent as he took sips of wine out of his Sword Nurturing Gourd, waiting for the ship to set sail. This was going to be a southbound journey of over 100,000 kilometers, and at the destination ferry station would be another ship that traveled directly to Old Dragon City.

From there, he would travel to Stalactite Mountain and enter the Sword Qi Great Wall, so he no longer had the chance to explore the world with his friends. Hence, even if he wanted to have a drink, he could only drink by himself.

The ship was about to set sail, and the passengers began to board. Chen Ping’an went up the second floor and found his room, which was extremely tiny and cramped compared with the heaven-grade residence that he had stayed in on the Kun ship. There was only a bed inside the room, and a tiny balcony outside that could fit two people standing next to each other.

Chen Ping’an set down the bag of fruits, which had cost him over ten taels of silver, then removed the sword case and cloth pouch from his back before sitting down onto the clean and comfortable bed. As he laid down onto the bed, he couldn’t help but think back to his wooden plank bed back in his house on Clay Vase Alley.

There was a saying that the poor feared the winter, while the rich feared the summer, but to Chen Ping’an, it felt like even the normal rich had many ways to stave off the heat, let alone almighty Qi refiners that were capable of miraculous feats.

Chen Ping’an sat up on the bed, then rolled his sleeves and his pant legs, revealing some indistinct talismans on his wrists and ankles, through which True Qi was slowly circulating. They resembled invisible restraints, and didn’t appear all that remarkable, nor were they recorded in the Authentic Death-Avoiding Book gifted to him by Li Xisheng. These talismans were Old Man Yang’s handiwork, and they were called True Qi Eight Tael Talismans.

Old Man Yang hadn’t explained them in much detail, all he had told Chen Ping’an was that these talismans could allow the True Qi in a pure martial artist’s body to circulate and refine their physical constitution during their sleep. Furthermore, once Chen Ping’an reached the Qi Refining Tier, these four talismans would fade away on their own.

However, if he couldn’t break through that bottleneck, then once he reached Old Man Yang, he could go to the Dust Medicinal Shop and find Zheng Dafeng, the former gatekeeper of the town, to remove the talismans for him.

Chen Ping’an rolled his sleeves and pant legs back down, then made his way onto the balcony. According to the local chronicles of Water Combing Nation, a true dragon was once being pursued by an immortal, and it fled into the ground, burrowing through the earth with its enormous body to create this underground water channel.

In the end, it emerged from the ground at the cave in Water Combing Nation before flying toward the Great Li Empire in the north. The conclusion of that battle gave rise to Jewel Small World, and this route was also known as the dragon channel because of this legend.

There was another channel beside this one, and the two channels facilitated easy travel for ships that came from both the north and the south. Between the two channels was a fence that seemed to stretch on indefinitely, and a radiant lantern was hanging from the stone wall once every few kilometers, brightly illuminating the nearby channel.

However, at night, all of these lanterns would be snuffed out so that the passengers of the ships would be able to sleep without being woken up by the light.

The rooms on either side of Chen Ping’an’s were quite noisy. The ferry station’s regulations on the second-story rooms were quite lax, with a maximum of five people permitted to stay in each room. If there wasn’t enough space to sleep on the bed, then they would just have to sleep on the floor.

Ten snowflake coins was quite a large sum, so not everyone could afford the luxury of having one room to themselves. The path of cultivation was not an easy one to pursue, particularly for itinerant cultivators, who often had to take large risks in order to earn money.

If they didn’t have any shortcuts or special income avenues, then it was no exaggeration to say that all of them were constantly putting their lives on the line in order to earn funds to support their cultivation, so cultivators were generally very miserly people.

Chen Ping’an’s room was facing the neighboring channel, and as the ship set off on its journey, he discovered that many people were standing near the railing on the first floor of the louchuan, holding fishing rods in their hands.

They used no bait, simply casting their lines straight into the underground river down below with the bare hooks exposed, and they were essentially trying to hook onto fish through sheer dumb luck by having the moving ship carry their hooks along through the water.

Occasionally, there really were some palm-sized fish that were hooked, and they were dragged onto the deck before being casually tossed into fish baskets. Whenever a silver prawn roughly the length of a finger was hooked, then the fisherman would always react with elation.

As it turned out, this was a very special creature unique to this underground channel, and in Water Combing Nation, they were referred to as ”river dragons,” while in the south, they were endearingly referred to as ”silver.” These prawns were able to absorb spiritual energy from bodies of water, and were considered to be a delicacy among avid foodies.

Juvenile prawns were around a centimeter in length, and after around a dozen years, they could grow to reach the length of a finger. Only after 100 years would they reach the length of two fingers, and at that stage, it would appear as if they were clad in a suit of translucent jade armor. A century-old river dragon would be extremely delicious and filled with abundant spiritual energy, able to fetch an astronomical price of half a snowflake coin each in the south.

If a passenger could fish up six century-old river dragons, then that would be their ship fare covered. Not only was this a way to make money, it could also help one pass the time, so why wouldn’t they try their hand at some fishing? The only problem was that river dragons the length of a finger were relatively easy to hook onto, but fishing up specimens two fingers in length or longer was mostly down to luck.

This river channel had already been in existence for over 1,000 years, and it was said that someone had once fished up a river dragon three feet long. The river dragon had a pair of golden feelers, and it had been a groundbreaking catch. In the end, it was sold to the master of Old Dragon City, but unfortunately, it was never revealed how much he paid for it.

Chen Ping’an had always been an avid fisherman, so he naturally took interest in what he was seeing, and he rested his chin on the railing of the second floor, looking down at the people fishing on the first floor for a long time.

As he did so, he thought to himself that there had to be fishing rods for sale on the ship, but he didn’t know how much they cost. If he could buy one for a snowflake coin or two, then he would be eager to try his luck as well when he wasn’t practicing his fist techniques.

Upon returning to his room, Chen Ping’an had some of the fruits that he purchased earlier, which were quite fresh, but completely devoid of spiritual energy. As he did so, he began to plan out his fist technique practice. The journey was going to take two months, and along the way, the ship was going to be making stops at ferry stations in other nations for repairs and supplies. That would add an additional four or five days to the journey.

This ship was far slower than the Kun ship, but that was only to be expected, considering that the Kun ship was a continent-crossing ship that belonged to Ceremony Mountain, a major sect of Complete Reed Continent.

By Chen Ping’an’s estimates, he would spend roughly five or six hours a day on sleeping, eating, and other menial tasks, which left roughly eighteen hours a day for fist technique practice.

Now that he had sped up in his fist technique practice, he had a significant advantage over his past self, and he would be able to practice his six-step walking meditation roughly 3,600 times a day. Over the course of two months, that would equate to over 200,000 repetitions.

This sounded like nothing more than a simple mathematical calculation, but for a seasoned fist technique practitioner like Chen Ping’an, he knew that putting this into practice would be extraordinarily difficult. Even with his exceptional mental fortitude, he felt this was going to be a titanic task.

In the past, regardless of whether he had been traveling to Great Sui Nation or southward to Water Combing Nation, he had always been passing through all types of diverse scenery. However, here on this ship, he was confined to this small room, and the monotony of repeating the same motions for twenty hours a day in such a bland setting would be enough to drive anyone insane.

Most importantly, this type of torment was completely different from the torment that he had suffered while practicing fist techniques under Cui Chan’s grandfather. The latter was a test of ability to endure excruciating pain over short periods of time, while the former appeared to be far more casual and relaxing, consisting of nothing more than leisurely fist technique practice, but it was a different type of slow burn that would constantly chip away at his sanity.

It would be exactly like the winter storm that he had endured while traveling over the boardwalk in Yellow Court Nation to the Great Li Empire, by the end of which every single breath that he took felt as if he were swallowing daggers.

It was no wonder that Cui Chan’s grandfather had once told him that a martial artist had to contend with heaven and earth, enduring the most unimaginable pain, while also contending with oneself, honing one’s mental fortitude through slow and monotonous repetition.

Chen Ping’an took a deep breath, and after closing the door of the balcony, he began to practice his walking meditation, treading lightly while throwing swift punches.

The days passed by in this continuous, monotonous grind, and during this time, Chen Ping’an didn’t even go to the restaurants on the ship for meals, merely having some dried rations with wine for sustenance.

With the arrival of summer, even though it was quite cool in the underground channel, Chen Ping’an was still sweating profusely every day. He started his walking meditation from the door of his room, and he stopped precisely at the edge of the wooden door leading to the balcony. After one repetition, he would turn around and perform the same motions again.

Over time, the floorboards in his room became riddled with sweat stains. Whenever he became utterly exhausted from his fist technique practice, he would take a short nap. Unlike during his previous travels, where there were constantly other things on his mind, he could focus wholeheartedly on his fist technique practice here in this confined room.

Throughout the twenty-four hours of a day, eighteen of them were spent on this constant, repetitive grind, while four hours were allocated to sleeping and the last two hours for breaks. He became completely immersed in the process, and it was as if this room had become his entire world. There were no longer any mountains or rivers, wind, rain, or snow...

It was as if the passage of the seasons and all stages of life took place within this tiny space.

Over the course of twenty days, the wooden door leading to the balcony wasn’t opened even once.

One night, Chen Ping’an was laying on the ground with his clothes completely soaked, as were the floorboards beneath him. He was gasping for air like a fish that had just been dragged onto the shore, and he wanted to laugh, and he wanted to smile, but didn’t have the energy to do so.

He was wondering what he was going to do if the owner of the Case Purchasing Pagoda were to suddenly attack him while he was in such a vulnerable state.

With that in mind, he cast his gaze toward his Sword Nurturing Gourd. In that situation, he would have to rely on these two precious little divas to save him.

Over the next ten days, Chen Ping’an had to remove the wine gourd from his waist and even take off his straw sandals as well. With his sleeves and pant legs rolled up, he continued to practice his walking meditation back and forth in the room.

He already had one foot in the fourth tier, and felt as if all it would take would be one bout of spirited effort for him to drag his other foot into the fourth tier as well, but it was as if that lagging foot were stuck deep in the mud, refusing to budge no matter how hard he tried. Even after an entire month of walking meditation, his progress was still agonizingly slow, and he had only slightly extricated his foot from the mud.

During this time, the world around him wasn’t completely silent. After growing accustomed to life on the ship, the passengers staying in the neighboring rooms weren’t exercising as much restraint as they had initially. The room to Chen Ping’an’s left seemed to be housing a group of traveling heroes, and they would feast on wine and meat every single day while conversing freely about whatever sprang into their minds.

However, they mostly spoke in the official dialects of other nations, and only very rarely would a few sentences spoken in the official dialect of Eastern Treasured Vial Continent pop up.

At certain points throughout the day, Chen Ping’an would snap out of his profound, immersive state, and in those moments, any sound that he heard would rumble like thunder in his ears, so he would become very agitated by the sound of the boisterous conversation ringing out to his left.

As for the passengers staying in the room to his right, they appeared to be a group of immortals from a small cultivating sect, and were relatively quiet compared with those staying in the room to the left.

However, their cultivation required them to recite the teachings of their sect twice a day, once in the morning, and once at night. The soundproofing between the rooms was rather lackluster, and they were using a certain breathing technique, so that was also a source of frustration for Chen Ping’an.

1. A louchuan (lit. ”tower ship”) is a massive warship that looks and functions like a floating fortress. ☜