Chapter 1

Parsed with an automated reader. The content accuracy is not guranteed.

Mo Lingyan Has A Friend - His Name Is Xuanyang

The sound of metal piercing the earth echoed.

A long, razor-sharp sword brushed past the face of the serving boy and stabbed into the dirt behind him. It buried itself almost to the hilt.

The child screamed and fell to the ground. His tray slipped out of his hands and flipped over. The delicate cakes on the plate within it were smashed to crumbs on the floor, creating an awful mess.

“Guan Yan, are you alright?” A young man hurried over, squatting before the boy and staring at him closely. When he found that he was unharmed, the youth sighed in relief. ”Why were you running? That was dangerous, you could have been hurt!”

“But… but young master, you were the one who ordered me to bring desserts…” The boy stuttered. He had not recovered from his shock and was still quite dazed, otherwise he would never have dared to speak like this. He was only a servant after all.

“Oi, as a servant of the Mo Family how could you not know that you must never disturb your masters when they are practicing their swordplay?” The young man reached out and poked his servant’s cheeks which were still round with baby fat. “Little Guan Yan, you must have the courage to admit your mistakes. Understood?”

“Young… young master,” the servant boy was getting dizzy from all the poking.

“Stop bullying him,” someone smacked him on the head from behind.

The young man immediately ceased his prodding of the servant boy and turned around.

The features of the newcomer were exquisite without seeming feminine, as if he was a sculpture carved ever so carefully by the heavens. He had a pair of beguiling eyes that could steal the soul of any beholder. These eyes were so elegant and bright; if only they seemed a little less unapproachable and a little more warm, who knew how many men and women would be captivated by them? It was a pity he was always so distant. Even his smiles were just the slightest curve of the lips.

He stood in the light, clothed in white and with a tree branch in his right hand. It was freshly plucked and so, still had some green leaves that glistened with drops of morning dew.

“You’re right, one must have the courage to admit their mistakes,” he poked the young man’s cheeks just as he had poked his servant boy, “Lingyan, you let me knock the sword from your hand after three moves and nearly hurt Guan Yan. Shouldn’t you admit you were at fault for your carelessness?”

“Xuanyang, you have wronged me!” Mo Lingyan quickly denied, “Your skill with the sword is superb, three moves is already my limit when pitted against you! How can that be considered carelessness?”

“Oh? But I’ve heard someone has been training hard from a young age, and has been declared a unparalleled genius of his generation? He’s even been chosen as the disciple of Chief of Sword Cultivators from the biggest Cultivation Sect?” Xuanyang raised his eyebrows, “the disciple of the greatest Sword Practitioner cannot manage to execute more than three moves against an ordinary person such as myself?”

Each of Xie Xuanyang’s three questions were so devastating, Mo Lingyan’s face could only grow longer and longer as they came. He clutched his chest with one hand, waving the other dramatically. “Speak no more! Speak no more! Xuanyang… Xuanyang ge, please just let me off. Don’t compare me with yourself!”

Xie Xuanyang’s skill with the sword was not something that any normal person could match up to. Mo Lingyan had realised this after a few exchanges with him. Just look at how he managed to cut that huge tree in half with a gentle swish of a tree branch! It’s trunk was wide enough that several men would be needed to completely encircle it with their arms. How could an ordinary person be capable of this?

Xie Xuanyang may have been young, but he has certainly already achieved significant success in his Way of the Sword.

‘Ordinary person, ordinary person’, and yet Grandmaster Xie Xuanyang liked to call himself that. Mo Lingyan could not help but sigh. He had never seen anyone with such a poor estimation of themselves, and honestly was beginning to wonder if all these years of praise for being a genius were just his own daydream. How could he be considered a genius? Xie Xuanyang who was of the same age had already made such incredible progress, yet he himself was only just about to enter a sect to begin his path of cultivation!

Mo Lingyan could not understand how such a gulf between the abilities of two people could possibly exist. They were both youths, but Xie Xuanyang was already at a far higher level than he. There might not even be all that many Sword Practitioners in the world of Immortal Cultivators who were at his level.

Considering the matter from this angle, he could not keep the jealousy from shining through in his eyes. “Xuanyang, come and reveal your secret.”

“What?” The other said blankly.

“We’re good friends aren’t we? Tell me how to become just like you!” Mo Lingyan clasped Xie Xuanyang’s hand in both of his own, his eyes bright and intent, “Must one jump from a cliff to truly understand Life and Death? Or absorb the vital essence of heaven and earth every morning? Or only drink morning dew and eat raw vegetables?”

“You’re speaking of sword cultivation?” Xie Xuanyang glanced at the tree branch he was holding, then back at Mo Lingyan and pulled his hand away, stuffing the branch in its place.

“None of those.”

“Then what could it be?”

“Train with dedication; make it your goal to improve every day. Be down-to-earth and stop reading those Jianghu novels,” Xie Xuanyang said seriously. The look in his eyes was so stern, Mo Lingyan could not tell if he was joking.

How could Xie Xuanyang possibly know that he read Jianghu novels? Mo Lingyan wondered guiltily, avoiding his gaze with shifty eyes. He had assumed that with the other young man’s disposition and habits, it was impossible for him to touch those types of novels. And since he did not know what they were about, Mo Lingyan had hoped Xuanyang could be hoodwinked with his nonsense.

“Jianghu novels aren’t about things like that.” Mo Lingyan denied. “Xuanyang, you shouldn’t just assume if you’ve never even read one before.”

He remembered that Xie Xuanyang had said that he rarely had the chance to interact with other people outside of his immediate family from a young age. That for as long as he could remember, he had practiced the Way of the Sword with his father, and even now maintained the strict discipline and habits he had been taught. Hence, he most likely never had the chance to read Jianghu novels.

“I may not have read one before, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what they’re about.”

It was true that Xie Xuanyang had begun learning the way of the sword from a young age and was very disciplined. However, during his years of journeying far from home, travelling westward to Western Liang’s capital, it was natural for him to have come across storytelling masters. How could he not have heard of these strange, exciting and unrealistic stories?

How could it be possible for Mo Lingyan to not know of storytelling masters? Xie Xuanyang refused to believe that as the eldest son in the Main line of the Mo Family, which even members of the imperial family had to treat with respect, Mo Lingyan could be ignorant of these stories.

Seeing that Xie Xuanyang was not one to be so easily misled, Mo Lingyan could only sigh and give up. He raised both arms in surrender.

“Alright, alright, I’ll admit it.” He exhaled and pouted, “In a few days I’ll have to leave for the Cultivation World and I heard that there won’t be any novels there to read at all! I decided to quickly memorize all these stories so that after I enter the Sect and become a disciple, I’ll have something think about and pass the time with while meditating.”

“Oh,” said Xie Xuanyang in a cheery tone and then asked, “so you intend to distract yourself while meditating?”

“Ah… no no no, I mean I’ll have something to entertain my future juniors with, so they can pass the time enjoyably.” After letting his plans slip accidentally, Mo Lingyan could only chuckle awkwardly and attempt to cover it up with excuses.

“Losing focus so easily at the thought of cultivation, I do hope you’re not assuming that once you leave home, there’ll be no one watching over you?” Xie Xuanyang sighed. “If you persist with such behavior after becoming a disciple in your new Sect, I shall tell the Third Prince.”

“Huh? My cousin?” At that, Mo Lingyan buried his face in his hands and wailed, “No don’t! Xuanyang, I’m begging you here, please don’t tell him!”

Mo Lingyan was not afraid of either his father or his grandfather. It was his cousin, the Third Prince of Western Liang that he was the most frightened of.

Although this cousin of his had a very casual, relaxed temperament that was more like an old man’s than even Mo Lingyan’s grandfather, he was stricter on him than his own father. Back when he was a child, Mo Lingyan was often whipped by the Third Prince for skiving off sword practice.

Honestly, Mo Lingyan had no idea why his cousin was so enthusiastic about disciplining him when the young man seemed to have no interest in anything else… not even that much coveted throne.

He groaned in despair for quite a while, “Xuanyang, my dear friend you have to help me - wait, wait, do you mean to say that you’ll be accompanying me to Tianxian Sect?”

This piece of surprising news delighted Mo Lingyan so much that he completely forgot about dreading the wrath of his fearsome cousin. He had invited Xie Xuanyang to join him in Tianxian sect many times, but had always been rejected. Yet now it seemed that Xie Xuanyang had changed his mind!

Mo Lingyan was so happy that there was a newfound bounce in his step. With Xie Xuanyang, who would need Jianghu adventure novels? Who would need distractions to pass the time while Cultivating?

And then suddenly, he froze, “That can’t be right. Xuanyang, how are you going to get in?”

Every hundred years, Tianxian Sect would organise a big ceremony for the selection of its new disciples. The latest had been held over a year ago. Anyone who wanted to join the Sect as a disciple now would have to wait for another hundred years for the next event. An exception had only been made for Mo Lingyan due to the Mo Family’s long-standing positive relationship with Tianxian Sect.

The continent of Jiuhua comprised of four kingdoms; within each kingdom was a powerful Sect of Cultivators. However, these Cultivators rarely involved themselves in the affairs of ordinary mortals, and bridging the gap between the kingdoms and these Sects were the Old Families. The Mo Family of Western Liang was one such family. For generations, they had remained on good terms with Tianxian Sect. The children in the family were encouraged to develop their skill with a sword, and the most outstanding of them all within the appropriate age group were sure to be accepted into Tianxian Sect.

Mo Lingyan was the member of the Mo Family to be accepted in this generation.

“I was told by His Highness, the Third Prince, that besides the selection process, there is one other path to becoming accepted as a disciple: recommendation by an Old Family.” Xie Xuanyang said, “I heard that there is something your family requires some assistance with, and thus I am here in answer to their request for aid.”

Every year, on the fifteenth day of the fourth month, the Yin energy in the air would be at its height. On this day, at midnight, the Yin Doors of the underworld would open to allow innumerable spirits to burst through into the mortal realm. The location of the Yin Doors varied from year to year. This time around, they would be opening right in the center of the town which the Mo Family was based in, and when that time came around, there would be deaths aplenty and injuries too.

Although members of the Mo Family were accomplished wielders of the Sword who were capable of striking down malicious spirits, monsters and fiends, they had no hope of winning when so vastly outnumbered. Perhaps the Yin Shield Formation might have been an option if they had had forty nine days to prepare, but when the final location of the Yin Doors was divined, there were only ten days left to the fifteenth. This was certainly not enough time to set up any Formation even if they invited an expert to help.

For an ordinary Formation master, the time left was too short, yet for Xie Xuanyang who had had some experience with Formations, it was too long.

Besides the Yin Shield, he knew of one formation called Yin Yang Reversal Formation which would be more effective for protecting mortals from the negative effects of Yin energy.

Exactly how powerful was this Formation?

Besides Xie Xuanyang, no one knew.

The average person could never have heard of this Yin Yang Reversal Formation, much less see it. From just its name, it was already clear that this Formation would be one that defied the laws of nature; those of the Mo Family who were fortunate enough to witness its execution would probably never forget the magnificent sight.

It was when Xie Xuanyang was preparing the Array for this Formation that Mo Lingyan finally saw his personal sword.

Mo Lingyan had never seen it before this, nor had he ever seen him use a sword. Yet it was not possible for a Sword Cultivator to not own one.

“A sword shows its master’s personality” went the old adage, and many a time Mo Lingyan had wondered what type of sword could possibly match his formidable friend. Would it be as sharp as the piercing cold of ice, frosty like the snow on a mountain peak just like Xuanyang? Or would it seem like some ordinary weapon, yet be capable of halving a strand of hair with the lightest brush?

Mo Lingyan had imagined nearly all possibilities except for the one before him now.

It’s blade was as pure as freshly fallen snow, yet seemed to radiate an aura that suggested past bloodshed. Decorated with seven-coloured beads and a deep black tassel, it had a guard and handle of white jade and a symbol of Taiji at its pommel.

“What is its name?” Mo Lingyan exclaimed at the sight of this sword. He could never have imagined that Xie Xuanyang’s personal sword was so domineering; even sheathed, its baleful aura could not be hidden. Any other Cultivator might mistake it for a demonic sword.

No wonder he rarely brought it out, Mo Lingyan thought to himself.

Xie Xuanyang caressed the blade, gazing at it as if it were his lover.

“Its name is Red Lotus of Crimson Clouds.”