I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 17
The road to Mount Shu is harder than ascending to the high heavens.
The precipitous Mount Shu fills one with awe, but what people see of it is only a tiny part. The truly heaven-defying Mount Shu has long been concealed by cultivation formations, and ordinary people simply cannot find the sect’s gate.
But in the eyes of Changkong Zhuoyu and his two companions, the real Mount Shu Sword Sect’s location was plainly evident.
“Climb over this mountain, pass through the maze formation behind it, and you’ll reach the Mount Shu defensive formation,” Li Xinglun explained to Changkong Zhuoyu, imparting some basic knowledge of the cultivation world. “The anchor of the Mount Shu formation is the divine artifact, the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure. Back in the great ancient god-demon war, the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure were the ultimate treasure to repel demons. When the swords are united, they are utterly unstoppable. Countless demons perished beneath them. Unfortunately, there’s no one left who can even lift the Twin Swords now.”
“Why?” Restraining his curiosity in the presence of Rang Cencen, Changkong Zhuoyu kept his words brief, a sight that tugged at the heart.
But there was no choice. They were penniless and needed Rang Cencen…
“I’ve heard something about this,” Rang Cencen, seeing her idol ask a question, eagerly rushed to answer. “In ancient times, the vital energy of the world was far denser than it is now. Back then, people’s aptitudes were better, and divine energy overflowed throughout heaven and earth. Back then everyone sought to cultivate the path of gods, and few practiced immortal cultivation. But the great god-demon war overly depleted heaven and earth’s spiritual energy, and the vital energy of the world waned again and again. In the end, the ancient gods divided the world into Three Realms and Six Paths, allowing the land to breathe again. It’s said the gods drew most of the vital energy into the immortal realm, so that now the spiritual energy of heaven and earth is scant, and most people born in the mortal world are of mediocre aptitude, with few suited for cultivation at all — let alone cultivating the path of gods. So everyone switched to cultivating as immortals, planning to sort things out after ascending to the immortal realm.”
“I see,” Changkong Zhuoyu nodded to himself and raised another question. “In that case, why were divine artifacts left behind? Don’t they also require enormous spiritual energy? Shouldn’t the human world be unable to withstand such consumption?”
Li Xinglun, seeing Rang Cencen happily explaining to Changkong Zhuoyu, gladly stayed quiet. Rang Cencen, thinking she had triumphed over Pei Xingchen, smiled radiantly and sidled closer to Changkong Zhuoyu, her heart fluttering as she explained, “Because of the demon realm.”
The so-called Three Realms and Six Paths didn’t actually include the demon realm. It wasn’t really a separate realm at all, but a space forcibly torn open by the ancient gods to imprison demons. Originally, the gods connected the demon realm’s entrance to the immortal realm, so that even if demons invaded, they’d invade the immortal realm and not harm the human world. But human hearts are unpredictable — the desires that gave birth to demons came from humans themselves. Before long, the demon realm connected to the human world.
The gods had no choice but to descend into the human world and leave divine artifacts with several ancient sects to seal the demon realm’s entrances, allowing the mundane world to regain peace and the cultivation world to enjoy millennia of prosperity.
“So it’s very likely that Mount Shu guards one of those entrances.” Changkong Zhuoyu nodded repeatedly. “Then breaching Mount Shu’s defensive formation won’t be easy either?”
He fell into thought as Rang Cencen inched closer and closer, nearly leaning against him, wearing an expression of bliss. “Of course. The great formations of the ancient sects are all difficult to breach, but Mount Shu is different. Though the Twin Swords are divine artifacts, they’re extremely warlike. Sealed for so many years, they’ve long grown impatient. It’s said that entering Mount Shu’s formation naturally attracts the Twin Swords’ interest. If you can satisfy their battle spirit, you’ll be allowed in.”
So the Twin Swords weed out the weak, leaving the strong for Mount Shu Sword Sect to deal with?
These really are a pair of headstrong, unruly swords.
They weren’t the only ones on the road. Many wanted to ascend Mount Shu — curious tourists, poets and scholars seeking inspiration. But the most striking of all was their group. Rang Cencen, a Miao woman, was bright and radiant, dressed in Miao attire with her fair arms exposed, attracting countless scholars’ gazes. But when she looked back at them, these sanctimonious fellows would turn away and spit, “witch.”
Li Xinglun’s looks were even more dazzling — handsomely clad in the garb of a wandering hero, his every gesture exuded freedom, making others envy him.
As for Changkong Zhuoyu… he was like a walking weapon {homme fatale}.
When they entered the Central Plains from Miaojiang, unlike ordinary martial artists who had to climb over walls at night, they used an illusion spell to transform road permits and passed right through the gates. At the city gate, just as Li Xinglun was about to hand over the permit, Changkong Zhuoyu, in his flowing white robes, didn’t even line up — he simply strode in. The gate guards gawked at his face as though blind, letting them through without a word. The surrounding townsfolk also stopped hurrying, following the guards’ gaze until his figure vanished. And Rang Cencen and Li Xinglun? No one even noticed them — completely ignored.
Even the most beautiful face couldn’t ordinarily have such an effect. It was Changkong Zhuoyu’s dreamlike, ethereal presence that was to blame. Cultivators or those of firm mind could resist it, but ordinary people found it hard.
Because of this, Rang Cencen and Li Xinglun, for once of the same mind, forced Changkong Zhuoyu to swap his white robes for a drab gray tunic. His flowing hair was combed up, and Rang Cencen even spent a fortune at a martial sect to buy a disguise mask to cover his face.
After all this trouble, when they set off again, at least they didn’t attract quite so many stares.
Even so, Li Xinglun and Rang Cencen’s looks were still outstanding enough in the human world to draw covetous eyes from many martial artists. But those people’s skills posed no threat to them — just annoying flies.
Though both Li Xinglun and Rang Cencen were irritated, neither suggested simply flying to Mount Shu. Just because Changkong Zhuoyu said, “I want to climb the mountain,” his two loyal followers did their utmost to accompany him — truly moving loyalty.
On the way, no fewer than ten scholars called Rang Cencen a witch. Each time, Li Xinglun’s brow twitched. Sometimes, when Rang Cencen disappeared at night, Li Xinglun wanted to find her to prevent bloodshed, but Changkong Zhuoyu stopped him.
“Cencen may be impatient, but she’s not unreasonable,” Changkong Zhuoyu said.
Indeed, Rang Cencen dared to love and hate, but she never killed the innocent. At most those pedantic scholars got diarrhea, rashes, laughed uncontrollably, or ran naked through the streets — never truly harmed.
At this moment, Rang Cencen walked beside Changkong Zhuoyu, gazing at his plain, ordinary masked face, reaching to take his arm but not quite daring, her nervousness amusing Li Xinglun.
“Hahahahaha, they say Miao women are passionate — so true.” A hearty laugh rang out behind them. “Are you fellow cultivators also heading up Mount Shu?”
Since they were “fellow cultivators,” they must be of the same path. The three turned to see a burly man with a bristling beard and indistinct face, carrying a pair of Thunder Hammers on his back, sweating as he climbed.
Any Foundation Building cultivator could store their artifact within their body, yet this man labored under the obvious weight of the Thunder Hammers, each step solid and strange.
In the cultivation world, only after reaching Foundation Building did one truly enter the threshold of cultivation — before that was merely martial arts. From his movements, it was clear the man had surpassed that stage. So why didn’t he store the artifact?
“It doesn’t want to!” Apparently asked too often, the man caught their looks and answered without waiting for the question.
“It doesn’t want to?” Li Xinglun reacted at once. “Senior, does your artifact have a spirit?”
For an artifact, a spirit was exceedingly rare. And one forcibly taken differed from one naturally born — the former dragged the artifact toward the demonic path, while the latter let it evolve on its own, potentially becoming an immortal or divine artifact.
“Yes.” The man nodded. “I’ve cultivated alone high in the mountains for years, reciting scriptures to an ancient pine. Over time, the pine gained awareness and became a yao. When I reached Golden Core, I decided to cut two branches to make the Thunder Hammers. After forging the artifact, I descended the mountain to temper myself. But though the pine could have continue to cultivate and eventually gain a body, it instead secretly attached its spiritual consciousness to the branches, becoming these Thunder Hammers and forever losing the ability to transform. Such a fine partner — how could I not spoil it? I can’t put it away, can’t step on it... While others fly on their swords, I instead train desperately, flying with it on my back.”
He sighed heavily after speaking, clearly complaining yet unable to hide the pride in his tone.
Li Xinglun and Rang Cencen were stunned by his blatant “look, you don’t have a weapon this awesome” flaunting, and completely failed to notice that Changkong Zhuoyu had already been enveloped in a thick fog.
The mist grew denser and soon surrounded them too. The man looked around in surprise. “Huh? Why is it foggy in the mountains? It’s been sunny for days!”
Li Xinglun: …
Rang Cencen was confused. She had been clinging to Sect Master Xue’s side, but where had he gone?
“Xue… Young Master Changkong, where are you?” Rang Cencen called out.
The thick fog gradually enveloped the man too. From inside he roared, “Something’s wrong! A cultivator’s sight should pierce fog — how can we see nothing? What monster dares cause trouble on Mount Shu? See if I don’t deal with you!”
“Young Master Changkong, are you abandoning Cencen? Even if you don’t want Cencen, at least… at least think of little Xing!” Rang Sect Master cried out in despair and reluctance.
Li Xinglun: …
You’re both mistaken — that white fog was Changkong Zhuoyu telling the burly man: Look, my artifact is this awesome too!
~ Chapter End ~
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