His disciples were shocked. The Old Celestial Master had dominated Jianghu for centuries, far stronger than most Land Immortals. Mount Longhu’s status largely depended on him. But now, hearing his high praise for Zhang Sanfeng, they were puzzled.
Zhang Lingyu couldn’t help but laugh, “Master, you’re too modest. Master Zhang is talented, but catching up to you is still hard.”
They revered their master greatly. The Old Celestial Master shook his head, smiling. Without reaching the Land Immortal realm, they couldn’t understand Zhang Sanfeng’s feat of defeating the Sweeping Monk. And Wudang had an even more monstrous Little Immortal. Follow current novels on noveⅼfire.net
He sighed, both for Zhang Sanfeng’s brilliance and for the likely shift in the Daoist hierarchy in the future. But he was calm and open-minded. “Soon, Master Zhang’s centenary celebration will gather heroes from all over. Many kingdoms will send representatives. Prepare well.”
“Yes!” Zhang Lingyu and the others bowed, feeling the weight of the upcoming event. With many Heaven-Man experts and possibly Land Immortals attending, it would be a grand occasion.
In the city of Liyang, Emperor Wang Xianzhi stood on the city wall, listening to the discussions below, his eyes flashing with surprise. A newly ascended Land Immortal defeating a two-hundred-year-old Buddha was extraordinary.
“The Taiji Dao… truly profound,” he thought, feeling both admiration and a desire to fight. He had a talent for learning from others’ martial arts, refining his own. The more talented his opponent, the more he could learn.
“Perhaps… I should visit Wudang sometime,” he mused. The Little Immortal had piqued his interest, and now Master Zhang had too. But he decided to wait. “Not yet. I’ll go later.”
He closed his eyes, sensing the world.
Meanwhile, in an unknown underground palace in the Sui Dynasty, faint screams echoed, quickly silenced. Black-clad figures stood outside the hall, trembling.
“Ning Changge, you won’t die well!” The final scream ended, and the figures shuddered. Inside, a cold voice commanded, “Bring me another demon seed in three hours!”
“Yes, Evil Emperor!” The black-clad figures left.
Inside, Xiang Yutian, pale and surrounded by corpses, sat cross-legged. Though his aura wasn’t as strong as before, his severed limbs had regrown.
His eyes were filled with pain and hatred. “Little Immortal… I, Xiang Yutian, have fallen to this state after a hundred years. You must die!”
He had cultivated the Dao Heart Planting Demon technique for years, using demon seeds to restore his power. But his reserves were nearly depleted after the Mount Emei incident.
“If only I had absorbed the traitors from the Yin Kui Sect, my power would be restored,” he thought, his face darkening. He had planned to refine them later, but the Mount Emei incident had left him crippled. If not for his unique true power, he would have been permanently disabled.
He vowed revenge. “Once I recover, I’ll hunt down the Yin Kui Sect and reclaim the Evil Emperor Relic to enhance my power.”
Recalling the Three Talents Sword Formation, he felt a chill. He wouldn’t confront Ning Changge until he regained his peak strength. The boy was too monstrous.
Suddenly, he sensed a change outside and shouted, “Who’s there?!”
A Buddhist chant echoed, “Evil Emperor, no need to panic. I’m here to propose a collaboration.”
The Jianghu was in turmoil. Zhang Sanfeng’s destruction of Shaolin spread, shocking many. Land Immortals understood its significance: Zhang Sanfeng would soon be among the strongest.
Wudang disciples, hearing the news, were both amused and proud. Their master, an old trickster, had said he was visiting friends but ended up smashing Shaolin’s gates. They admired his protective nature.
Wudang disciples walked with pride, boasting both a monstrous Little Immortal and an invincible grandmaster. Zhang Sanfeng, after wandering for a while, finally returned to Wudang.
In the library, Zhang Sanfeng returned the Bi Shui Sword to Ning Changge, sipping spiritual tea. Ning Changge smiled, “Master, was your visit to friends successful?”
Zhang Sanfeng laughed, “Very successful.”
He didn’t mention Shaolin, knowing his disciple was aware but not wanting to admit it. Ning Changge, amused, said, “Did my Bi Shui Sword come in handy?”
“Very handy, especially for cutting Buddha bodies…” Zhang Sanfeng stopped mid-sentence, looking innocent. Ning Changge laughed, producing a black-and-white sword. “I made this for you, Master. It’s a Taiji Sword, better suited for you than the Bi Shui Sword.”
Zhang Sanfeng’s eyes lit up. He took the sword, feeling its power. “A good sword! Does it have a name?”
“You can name it, Master.”
“Then it’s the Taiji Sword!” Zhang Sanfeng, delighted, felt it perfectly matched him, even more than the Bi Shui Sword.
“Thank you, Changge,” he said, touched.
Ning Changge smiled, “You worked hard for me, Master. I had to show my appreciation.”
Zhang Sanfeng, embarrassed, quickly left, “I’ll be in seclusion for a few days!”
Ning Changge laughed, then focused on the Bi Shui Sword, a Buddha Relic appearing in his hand.