Chapter 82: The Threefold Return to Origin—Yue Buqun

Yang Xin used the Kaleidoscope Sharingan to cast an illusion on everyone present, transmitting the story of The Smiling Proud Wanderer through their own perspectives in the form of a dream.

“Zhuang Zhou dreamed of being a butterfly—was it a dream? Was it false? Was it real? Was it true? Who knows when one awakens from the great dream? Only I know myself in this lifetime…” Everyone sighed deeply, shook their heads, and their consciousness began to return.

This was, after all, the fate awaiting them, so vivid and authentic that none could accept such harsh reality.

Truth be told, everyone present had a tragic end—none escaped misfortune.

Shi, the chief escort, was killed by the Qingcheng Sect; Lin Zhennan and his wife, too, were slain by Qingcheng; Lin Pingzhi suffered even worse—his family was annihilated by Qingcheng, left with a blood feud and forced into the jianghu. In his wandering, he encountered Yue Buqun, the leader of Huashan, who used him for his own schemes. Lin eventually realized he had become a coveted “object” in the turbulent world of martial arts, his only reliance being the Evil-Resisting Sword Technique.

Swimming upstream in the relentless torrent of misfortune, Lin Pingzhi gradually succumbed to the cruelty and treachery of the jianghu, becoming increasingly extreme. He mastered the Evil-Resisting Sword Technique, rose to prominence, slaughtered Qingcheng, and mercilessly killed his wife, Yue Lingshan. In the end, he was imprisoned by Linghu Chong at the bottom of West Lake.

Yue Lingshan’s fate was no less tragic—she fell in love with someone she should not have and died beneath Lin Pingzhi’s sword.

Lao Denuo, miserable as well, practiced the Evil-Resisting Sword Technique without knowing its method, and ended up losing all his martial arts. Because he killed his junior apprentice who loved monkeys, Ren Yingying tied two large monkeys to Lao Denuo’s hands, making his life worse than death…

Yue Buqun—utterly wretched! He sought only to glorify the Huashan Sect, but fate was unkind. First, he was controlled by the Three Corpse Brain Pill, then drained by the Star-Sucking Technique, and finally died at the hands of Yilin—indirectly at Linghu Chong’s hand.

Each of these people suffered more than the last; there was no “most miserable,” only “more miserable.” Even the world of Les Misérables paled before their misfortunes, all stemming from the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual before them…

“Immortal Master, save me!” Lin Zhennan was the first to kneel. With his lead, Lin Pingzhi, Shi, and the others followed, not questioning the scenes in their dream, for they had factual basis: Qingcheng had come in force, the Huashan leader arrived quietly, all of it confirming the dream’s reality.

Yue Buqun’s face alternated between gloom and pallor, then purple; finally, he sighed, flung his sleeve, and knelt, “I beseech you, Immortal Master, for the sake of our shared Daoist lineage—save me!”

Lao Denuo likewise knelt. Only Yue Lingshan blinked, as if not yet fully awake, subconsciously looking at Yang Xin, who greeted her gaze with a toothy smile.

“Stand up, stand up! Chief Lin’s matter is easy, easily solved. Sect Leader Yue, do you know where you went wrong?” Yang Xin asked.

Lin Zhennan, Lin Pingzhi, and Shi, hearing Yang Xin’s words, felt as if released from death, hurriedly rose and stood to the side, awaiting respectfully.

Yue Buqun got up, thought for a long time, and finally, with bitter shame, said, “My ambitions were too domineering, my conduct too base, and I specialized in scheming?”

“To achieve great things, who hasn’t used some less-than-honorable means? That’s not the point!” Yang Xin tapped the table, showing satisfaction with Yue Buqun’s attitude.

True heroes are bold, true gentlemen are carefree—Yue Buqun dared to face his bleak fate. He might not be a hero or a gentleman, but he was certainly a brave man. In any world, most are harsh with others, lenient with themselves. Yue Buqun was already better than most.

“I ask for your guidance, Immortal Master!” Yue Buqun said earnestly, bowing.

“The reasons for your misery are twofold. First, you don’t understand the nature of this world! The reputation of Gentleman Sword made you, but it also shackled you, keeping you from acting as you wished.

Openly, you must maintain the Gentleman Sword persona, so some things can only be done in secret. Unfortunately, no one in Huashan could do such dirty work for you, so you had to act yourself. Over time, this inevitably led to betrayal and isolation.”

“So, what is the nature of this world?” Yue Buqun asked humbly.

“The bigger fist is truth! When in doubt, first fight—my fist is big, so I’m right! Like now, even if I spout nonsense, you must accept it. Why? Your fists are not as big as mine. Sect Leader Yue, you may not fully grasp this, but you instinctively follow it—for example, the struggle for the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual. Why fight for it? To make your own fist bigger. But that’s not the main point. The main point is the second.”

“The second?” Yue Buqun raised his brow.

“The second is Linghu Chong. You were ruined by your disciple Linghu Chong! He’s a pit—a deep one! Whether you, Lao Denuo, Lin Pingzhi, or Yue Lingshan, all were directly or indirectly harmed by him! If Linghu Chong weren’t such a pit, he would have told you about Feng Qingyang, taught you the Nine Swords of Dugu. Even if not, revealed the secret of the Cliff of Reflection. Once you learned the Five Mountain Sword Sect’s unique techniques, your strength would soar.”

“Imagine, Sect Leader Yue, if you knew Huashan had a world-class master like Feng Qingyang, would you still be so anxious? If you mastered the Five Mountain Sword Sect’s sword techniques, would you still plot desperately to obtain the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual? Would you still harden your heart to mutilate yourself, risking ruin to practice it?”

Yue Buqun’s face shifted again—blue, white, black, as if a dye shop had opened. After a long while, he spat two words: “Worthless disciple!”

“Thank you, Immortal Master, for enlightening me. I shall return to Huashan and study the Five Mountain Sword Sect’s sword techniques on the Cliff of Reflection to strengthen our sect!” Yue Buqun bowed.

Yang Xin couldn’t help but laugh—after all this, Yue Buqun still didn’t believe him, wanting to verify the dream’s truth through the Cliff of Reflection. Yet, it was understandable; a schemer like Yue Buqun would only trust himself.

“Too slow… And the Cliff of Reflection holds only sword moves, not the corresponding internal methods. You’ll gain form but not substance, relying on the sharpness of sword techniques to win. Sect Leader Yue, are you of the Internal School or the Sword School?” Yang Xin smiled.

Yue Buqun was stunned. If he did as suggested, he’d fall into the endless sword vs. qi dispute. If even the sect leader didn’t lead by example, how could he restrain his disciples?

“What wise insights does the Immortal Master have on the sword-qi dispute?”

“The sword is but a weapon. Look at Shaolin—so many manuals on saber, staff, sword. Do they have a sword-qi dispute? In truth, Shaolin dug this pit for you; Huashan need not divide into Sword or Qi School. You’re all Huashan Sect…”

“But strictly speaking, I lean toward using qi to wield the sword. The sword is external; qi is intrinsic. Early in martial training, when internal energy can’t sustain prolonged combat, a good weapon and technique are indeed advantageous. But as internal energy grows and the body’s limits expand, that advantage shortens and is eventually surpassed.”

“For someone of your level, Sect Leader Yue, the Sword School can’t match the Qi School. No matter how varied their techniques, I can counter with a single strike—the strong overcome the clever. Furthermore, you can drag it out—if an hour isn’t enough, extend to two, or even a day. The one with greater internal strength and stamina can wear the other down…”

“In the end, whether Sword or Qi School, both belong to Huashan. You must teach according to the student—Linghu Chong, that sly dog, is suited to learning sword techniques. Other disciples are better off focusing on internal cultivation. Teach according to talent…”

“So, after all this, we’re back to the start. If you want to change your tragic fate, you must strengthen your fist. When your fist is big enough, gods and Buddhas alike will fall before you—Left Cold Zen? One punch and he's dust! How exhilarating!”

“It is exhilarating! But I need a way!” Yue Buqun was helpless; after all this, the only quick way to grow stronger was the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual before him.

“Perhaps, with foreknowledge, I could practice the Evil-Resisting Sword Technique and escape my tragic fate.” With this, Yue Buqun’s heart stirred, his eyes fixed on the cassock atop the table.

“Alas!” Yang Xin sighed. “Yue Buqun truly exhausts himself for the glory of Huashan, but even the cleverest housewife cannot cook without rice.”

“Sect Leader Yue, as a fellow Daoist, seeing you suffer and fall into the abyss, I must lend a hand. Very well, I have here four volumes of the Heavenly Book—take them and cultivate well.” Yang Xin swept his hand, and four martial arts manuals appeared out of thin air.

Frost Fist!
Cloud-Pushing Palm!
Wind God Legs!
Three-Part Returning Qi!