Volume One: First Steps into the Martial World of Immortals Chapter Eight: Once I Spent a Thousand Gold in My Youth, Now I Embark on the Path to Immortality

As soon as the words were spoken, more than a dozen men in black appeared in the restaurant. Seeing this, the Evil Sword Immortal summoned a bamboo chopstick seemingly out of thin air. With a few elegant spins of the chopstick in his hand—a series of silent gestures—he truly looked the part of an immortal.

The tranquil afternoon, so often lulling people into drowsiness, had claimed a hundred men in black sprawled motionless on the floor, unlikely ever to awaken. The fresh crimson blood dripping from the chopstick lent the scene a certain macabre beauty, and the Evil Sword Immortal seemed rather pleased with himself.

At times, killing can be an art. Once you get the hang of it, you gain experience and become a master. Yet the martial world is never reasonable—one careless move and you might be the next body lying on the ground.

He glanced at the bamboo chopstick in his hand and remarked coolly, “I just said I was ranked third in the world, but perhaps that’s not so accurate—it’s all from years ago. As for what my ranking is now, neither you nor I can say for certain.”

With that, the chopstick in his hand flew out in a flash. From outside the restaurant came a scream, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.

His task done, the Evil Sword Immortal unfastened his gourd and tilted it to his lips—yet not a single drop of wine came out.

Turning to the two cowering in the corner, he said, “Such is the way of the martial world. If someone truly comes for you, you may avoid them for a time, but you cannot run forever. Most often, fate is beyond your control.”

He paused, then added, “If playing the fool could always save your life, there wouldn’t be so many dead in this world.”

Having heard all this, Chu Mingxuan straightened his robes and saluted respectfully.

He bowed to the Evil Sword Immortal and said, “Thank you, elder.”

With another bow, he said, “Thank you again.”

A third bow followed. “I hope you will guide me.”

The Evil Sword Immortal’s aura dissipated, and he once more took on the roguish air of an old beggar. “Even rotten wood can be carved,” he quipped.

With a toss of his empty gourd, he said, “Go fill this up in the wine cellar. There’s no way we can eat here anymore—let’s find another place before we set out.”

The chubby youth caught the gourd with a grin. “I’ll have it filled right away.”

“Back when your father stormed into Yangzhou, he slaughtered every noble clan and sect in the city. Yet in a narrow alley, when he saw an injured beggar, he dismounted, called for a military doctor to dress the wounds, and left twenty taels of silver behind. See, people’s character is judged by others—toward the clans and sects, your father was ruthless; to the wounded beggar, he was kind.” The Evil Sword Immortal turned to Chu Mingxuan with a sly, squinting smile.

“Boy, your father is playing a great game of chess, and the direction it takes depends on your choices.” With these words, the Evil Sword Immortal picked up a sword from the ground and tossed it to Chu Mingxuan.

“Make do with this for now. When we reach our destination, I’ll take you to find a real sword,” he said, gazing out at the street.

The chubby youth returned, hugging the wine gourd. “Elder, I’ve had it filled with the finest wine.”

The Evil Sword Immortal took it, pulled the cork, and inhaled deeply. On his face appeared the intoxicated, entranced look of a youth catching the scent of a maiden for the first time; he was thoroughly satisfied.

Meanwhile, the Wang family home in Bingzhou had long since become a shambles. According to the neighbors, “A group of men kicked in the door and ransacked the place for quite a while, then fled toward Liangzhou.”

Heicheng—a city on the border between Bingzhou and Liangzhou—would, according to administrative maps, fall under Liangzhou’s jurisdiction. But in truth, Chu Fan had already stationed troops there. At the city gates, Wang Er, his face caked with mud, waited in line to enter. He wasn’t a fool; he knew how to evade pursuit.

Heicheng’s garrison commander, Qin Guo, had once been a captain in Chu Min’s personal guard. Time and again, he followed Chu Min onto the battlefield, sustaining many wounds and earning great merit.

When peace finally came, Chu Min appointed him commander of Heicheng—after all, it was considered the rear guard.

Now Qin Guo stood atop the city wall. Years of battlefield experience had trained his eye; he immediately noticed Wang Er’s unusual nervousness in the crowd below. Something was clearly amiss.

“Go down and bring that man up. If he resists, treat him as a spy and cut him down,” Qin Guo instructed coolly.

The intelligence services of Fengyang and the surrounding imperial provinces were always at odds—especially on the border, such things were commonplace.

A few soldiers left the city and headed straight for Wang Er. Seeing them approach, Wang Er felt a surge of hope; he had already learned that these were the Liang Prince’s troops.

He stepped forward willingly and, as expected, was brought before Qin Guo atop the city wall.

“Who are you, and why are you so anxious?” Qin Guo questioned.

“I am Wang Er of Bingzhou, come to Liangzhou to see the Liang Prince. I fear for my life—someone is after me,” Wang Er replied.

Qin Guo said, “I will personally escort you to the General. Do not worry. Go wash your face first—I have instructions to give as well.”

Wang Er bowed. “Thank you, General.”

A few armored soldiers accompanied Wang Er down to clean up. “Why were you so quick to trust him, General? Aren’t you worried it’s a trick?” the deputy commander asked.

“When you serve at the prince’s side, you learn a great deal. I’ve learned to read people, and this man is telling the truth. That’s why I’ll escort him myself,” Qin Guo replied, turning to Deputy Commander Cheng Pu with a smile.

His gaze drifted beyond the city gates. After a pause, he continued, “There will surely be pursuers. Guard Heicheng well. Search everyone who enters, and if you find anything suspicious, shoot first—no explanations needed.”

Cheng Pu bowed and accepted the command. Qin Guo then chose three hundred cavalry from the garrison to personally escort Wang Er to the provincial capital.

Meanwhile, on the main road, Chu Mingxuan and his companions had already left the small town behind. The Evil Sword Immortal, riding his horse crosswise, muttered, “If only this were a donkey.”

The chubby youth burst out laughing. “If you like, Elder, I’ll get you one at the next stop.”

The Evil Sword Immortal took a swig, then turned to Chu Mingxuan. “Boy, in all my decades on the path to immortality, you are the finest student I have ever seen.”

Chu Mingxuan smiled. “Are you referring to a life of wine and women, old man?”

The Evil Sword Immortal ignored him and said, “I don’t believe those old monsters in the Liang Prince’s estate haven’t noticed your talent. In the end, it’s just that Chu Min is too weary.”

Chu Mingxuan, riding alongside, asked, “Old Xie, how does one truly master the sword?”

The chubby youth’s eyes lit up with anticipation.

The Evil Sword Immortal took a long draught, as if recalling some memory, and fell silent. At last, he spoke: “The sword has a spirit; it resists constraint. Follow your heart. Swordsmanship must also be supported by internal energy and spirit. But to truly become a Sword Immortal, there’s only one word: ‘Kill’. Otherwise, no matter how exquisite your technique, a sword without blood is no different from an embroidery needle.”

Chu Mingxuan nodded thoughtfully. The Evil Sword Immortal asked, “Are you sure you want to learn the sword? Consider it carefully before you answer.”

“I’m sure. Didn’t you say some things can’t be avoided? I can’t let myself be killed without even knowing why,” Chu Mingxuan replied.

The Evil Sword Immortal nodded in approval. “Indeed. If you were to die, the number of people who would be buried with you would likely surpass those in the imperial city itself.”

He laughed. “Interesting, interesting. I wonder—does the young lord wish to learn the sword to protect himself, or to protect the world?”

With that, he pulled a book from his sleeve and tossed it to Chu Mingxuan. “Chu Min asked me to give you this. Since you’ve decided to walk the path to immortality, study well.”

Chu Mingxuan chuckled to himself, “That old man just can’t resist heaping burdens on me. I’ve played the wastrel all these years just to make his life easier. Maybe I was wrong. If it weren’t for you, old Xie, how would I still be alive? If I die, my father would probably slaughter the entire martial world.”

The chubby youth looked at the Evil Sword Immortal expectantly. “Elder, did my father send you with anything for me?”

The Evil Sword Immortal shot back, “Your father? And who might that be?”

Chu Mingxuan burst into laughter and spurred his horse ahead.

“I squandered fortunes in my youth; today I set foot on the immortal path as a young man!”

The young lord’s voice echoed from afar. The chubby youth, too, rode off on the fine horse he’d purchased for a hefty sum in town.

Only the Evil Sword Immortal remained unhurried, squinting as he murmured, “Ah, to be young again. I’ll join them and see if I can recapture some of my own youth.”

The three headed east together.

In the lakeside pavilion of the Liang Prince’s estate, Chu Min was playing chess with a middle-aged scholar.

“Zijing, what do you think Mingxuan will choose this time?” Chu Min asked.

Xiao Zijing picked up a piece and replied calmly, “No matter what Mingxuan chooses, you won’t have it easy. The choices may differ, but your strategy for the future will change accordingly.”

Chu Min quietly palmed a white piece from the board, his expression unchanged. “Zijing, since we met we’ve been together. Of the three hundred old brothers, only you, I, and a handful of officials in the capital remain. You’ve rarely made a miscalculation in your life. To be honest, I’d intended for him to become your disciple.”

Xiao Zijing placed a white piece on the spot where Chu Min had just removed one. “Your Highness needn’t worry. If nothing unexpected happens, Mingxuan will choose the second path. That is, after all, what you hope for most—otherwise, to whom would you leave the three hundred thousand armored troops of Liangzhou?”

As he spoke, he quietly removed a black piece from the board.

Chu Min frowned. “If that’s the case, I suppose these old bones of mine will have to hold out a few more years. The man in the capital sent me a letter.”

Xiao Zijing mused, “A letter? Is he making his move now? That seems unlikely.”

Chu Min replied, “It’s not about acting now. It’s that we’re too much of a threat. In truth, I understand Liu Jing’s feelings.”

Xiao Zijing said, “Your Majesty and Your Highness are kindred spirits in ambition, but now, perhaps, neither can act freely. The four Grand Masters in the palace are not to be trifled with.”

Chu Min reflected, “If I had claimed the throne back then, I might have faced the same situation.”

Xiao Zijing countered, “If it were you, Your Highness, things might be easier. After all, there’s hardly anyone who can match my scheming, and the Grand Masters are nothing special—your own experts are no fewer than those in the capital.”

“What do you think the next move should be?” Chu Min asked, holding a black piece and staring at the board.

“Your Highness should place the next move here. That way, I’m sure to lose—and you can stop stealing my white pieces,” Xiao Zijing pointed to a spot on the board.

With perfect composure, Chu Min placed his black piece exactly there. “Zijing, aren’t you also stealing my black pieces?”

The two burst out laughing.

From a distance, the Princess watched, smiling as she remarked, “So old, and yet they’re like two children.”

The maids nearby couldn’t help but laugh as well.