When the breeze passed, from the gate of West Chu's capital to the gate of the Imperial City, almost no passersby took it seriously. Only an old madman with disheveled hair stood there in a daze.
This old man was even treated as a joke by the officials far away in Great Peace City. At that time, the old man in ragged clothes walked through the alleys as usual to ring the night. Normal night watchmen would appear at night, but he was different. He only rang the night watch during the day and said to everyone he met, "They are all dead people." In the first few years, there were still some old people in luxurious clothes who stopped or stopped in the distance to look at this crazy old night watchman and cry tears of sorrow. As time passed, there would be a large group of idle children following behind the night watchman, shouting "Dead people, dead people, dead people!" Most of them would be pulled by the ears and dragged back by their parents. After a few more years, almost the entire city began to become accustomed to this sight. When West Chu was restored during the Xiangfu era, for some reason, the night watchman, whose voice had almost gone hoarse from shouting, suddenly began to cry heart-wrenchingly again. The sorrow and bitterness in his voice was even greater than in the past. Before the restoration of the country, the Grand Preceptor Sun Xiji, Cao Changqing, and Jiang Si, who had not yet ascended the throne, had once met this old madman on the street. The night watchman had once called Sun Xiji a "dead person" and Cao Changqing a "dying person" with a night watch mallet. Only he had stared blankly at the fallen princess Jiang Si and cried out in grief, crying for the only living person left to quickly leave. At that time, after the night watchman had run far away, Sun Xiji revealed the mystery. Only then did Jiang Si learn that the night watchman's real name was Jiang Shuilang. He had once been in charge of Da Chu's Chong Wen Guan at the age of 39. Under his command were no less than three academies of West Chu and 600 editors. He was a scholar who had been praised by the late emperor of West Chu as "Jiang Shuilang in literature and Cao Boyi in chess." Unlike many of the remaining old people of West Chu who worshipped the peace of Old Huang or who directly fled to Zen Wild Forest, Jiang Shuilang had gone mad. He had gone mad for more than 20 years and had been the night watchman of the number one city of the Central Plains for more than 20 years.
At this time, the old man's turbid eyes gradually regained their clarity, and the gong and gavel in his hands unknowingly fell to the street. The old man suddenly turned around and started running. Even after falling down a few times, he didn't care about the pain and continued running. When the old man finally ran back to the lonely, dilapidated cottage, the old man's eyes began to look blank again. He scratched his head hard and finally squatted on the ground and whimpered hoarsely, like a dog covered in scars. Some of his cries were not from his mouth, but from his heart that was filled with the memories of the past. Clutching his head, the old man stood up with a face full of pain. He staggered into the cottage and rummaged through the chests and cabinets. Finally, he pulled out an erhu from a pile of junk under the bed with great difficulty. The python's skin had long since peeled off, and the strings had long since been snapped. The old man held the erhu in his hands, lost in thought. After an unknown amount of time, the old man slowly exhaled a mouthful of turbid air. After standing up, he moved a small broken stool and sat down in front of the cottage that had no stairs. The old man straightened his clothes and closed his eyes. Then, he extended a finger and dipped it in his saliva. There seemed to be a zither score placed in front of him, but it also seemed to have been flipped open by the old man. Only then did he begin to play the erhu.
The song in the old man's heart was called 'Spring and Autumn'.
The great rivers of West Chu, the majestic mountains of East Yue, the frontier of Northern Han, the lychees of Southern Tang, the silk of Western Shu, the giant trees of Later Sui …
When the old man was still called Jiang Shuilang, the people of West Chu were called Da Chu!
My Da Chu had the world's number one national chess player, Li Mi. There was the Spring and Autumn soldier, Ye Baikui. There was Li Chungang, who flew across the Guangling River on his sword. There was Zhao Dingxiu, who was the best scholar in the world. There was Wang Qing, who was the best poet in the capital. There was Cao Changqing, who was the pride of the Cao Clan. There was Sun Xiji, who was dressed in purple and yellow when he was just 20 years old. There was the world's most polite person, Ceng Xianglin. There was Tang Jiahe, who was proficient in all kinds of knowledge …
The old man's tears did not stop.
Da Chu had perished. He was now a lonely ghost in the Wasteland of Spring and Autumn, with nowhere to go.
The old man stopped and began to laugh loudly for no reason.
Finally, the old man lowered his head and muttered to himself, "I am not crazy. Da Chu perished. Some people pretended to be asleep, some pretended to be stupid, and some pretended to be dead. I, Jiang Shuilang, merely drank until I got drunk."
The old man carelessly wiped away his tears. He raised his head and gazed into the distance, his fingers trembling.
Thinking back to the past, when the old man was not old and the dead were not dead, he still remembered that there was a song that had once spread through the court and across the Great River. That song had been written by Great General Ye Baikui. He, Jiang Shuilang, had composed the music, Wang Qing had written the lyrics, and Zhao Dingxiu had written the lyrics.
The name of the song was "The General's Journey." Wherever there was water in a well, there would be people singing it.
The old man sang loudly, but after just one line, he broke down in tears.
"The youth has not yet reached the age of twenty, but he has left his home!"
— —
Li Yang, Great Peace City, Palace City, Imperial City, and Inner City. From the inside to the outside, there were people guarding the city. In the past, Teacher Liu Hao had been one of them. Now, the old ancestor of the Wu Family Sword Tomb was the same.
Other than those martial grandmasters, Great Peace City itself had two large formations with the Imperial Astronomer as the center that operated continuously.
The vast formation in West Chu's capital had been destroyed long ago by Prince Guangling Zhao Yi after the mountains and rivers had been destroyed. But now, there were still people guarding the city gates. The leading swordsman of West Chu, Lu Dantian, was one of them. Unfortunately, he had not returned. The remaining two people, who were rarely seen, appeared in broad daylight today, clearly in everyone's sight. One person stood behind the gates of the Imperial City. He was old, short, and wore a long robe with large sleeves. He wore wooden clogs and looked like a straw man beside a paddy field. The other person stood in front of the palace gates and looked at the back of the former. He was also an old man. This person wore a python robe. It was not the style of the vassal kings of Li Yang, nor did it conform to the etiquette of the present West Chu imperial family. It was the python robe of the vassal kings that could only be seen in the old Da Chu temples. This old man surnamed Jiang, who had once been removed from the imperial family of Da Chu, was tall but lifeless.
Between the two old men, there were one thousand and six hundred elite imperial guards. One thousand and six hundred bright metal armor glittered under the sunlight as if they were wearing the golden armor of the immortals of the Celestial Court.
On the two city walls, there were almost one thousand crossbows ready to fire.
That daring young man stood alone outside the gates.
On the city walls, numerous generals in luxurious armor stood behind the battlements. They were all sweating. No one dared to act rashly or give the first order.
The common people of the two largest cities in the world believed the most in the existence of immortals on earth. One was the Great Peace City of Li Yang, and the other was the city under their feet. To a large extent, all of this was because of one person, the great official Cao Changqing.
The Jianghu of the Martial Emperor City of the East Sea was not as wild as the other two cities. This was because Wang Xianzhi, who claimed to be the second in the world, had never called himself an immortal. In sixty years, countless experts had come and gone, but they had all been defeated by Wang Xianzhi. Incidentally, the common people of the Martial Emperor City had also lost interest in the so-called immortals.
But whether it was Cao Changqing or Wang Xianzhi. No matter how high their martial cultivation was, this young man with his hands on the hilt of the saber at his waist was, at the very least, a Great Grandmaster on the same level as the two of them.
Hsu Fengnian stood where he was. It was not until this day and this moment that he suddenly realized that the old man in the sheepskin coat was from West Chu.
Hsu Fengnian grinned.
He remembered that after the battle of the three in Great Peace City had ended, the top grandmasters like Cao Changqing and Đồng Thái had all asked him the same question.
Had that old man who had broken through two thousand and six hundred armor with a single breath by the Guangling River reached the threshold of Celestial Being?
At the time, Hsu Fengnian had not directly given an answer. He had only smiled and extended a finger, and then let the two guess.
The length of a breath could travel a thousand li and then a hundred li.
A breath of sword energy could cause thunder to roll a thousand li.
As long as one had a clear conscience, such as the Green-clothed Sword God sixty years ago, or the old man in the sheepskin coat who had resolved the knot in his heart sixty years later, one could easily become the number one in the world.
Because one was Li Chungang.
The Jianghu was so vast, but only one was three feet away from the sword in one's hand.
The title of being invincible in the world was so important, but only one, Li Chungang, could let it go as he wished, and take it as he wished.
Hsu Fengnian suddenly felt slightly angry.
Unfortunately, the person he wanted to vent his anger on was not in this city. At this time, they were probably far away from Great Peace City.
Cao Changqing, I should not have let you take her away back then!
If it was today, why don't you try to pretend to be an expert in front of me again?
Hsu Fengnian put his palms on the hilts of the Beiliang Blade and the Soldiers of Crossing the River, and took a deep breath.
The Spirit Reaches the Rainbow.
When Hsu Fengnian gripped the hilts of his blades, in a flash, the grand and dignified gates of the imperial city were crushed under his foot.
Thunder roared in the capital of West Chu.
The dust of the gates flew wildly.
The short, wide-sleeved old man guarding the gates of the imperial city was unmoved. He held his breath, spread his hands in front of him, bent his middle finger, and flicked his fingers.
With each flick, the old man, whose sleeves were swollen like they were filled with wind, slid back dozens of feet.
Between the thin old man and the tall city gates, two serpents appeared on the old man's fingertips.
One black, one white.
— — —
In the exquisite waterside pavilion by the river and lake to the northwest of the imperial palace, the atmosphere was solemn. He Taisheng, the deputy commander of the imperial guards, dressed in golden armor, stood at the bottom of the steps with an awkward expression.
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