Han Shan’s Sword Unsheathed Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Beauty is Beauty


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Qiao Xianming came to rescue his friend and flee, prepared to be detected by the powerful figures of the Han Shan Sect and ready to escape at all costs, even resorting to desperate measures like blood escape for three thousand miles. However, unexpectedly, everything went smoothly and it seemed they were about to escape unscathed, but then disaster struck unexpectedly… It was truly a headache for the demon’s head.

Meng Xueli gestured for silence and reached out to help the fallen Daoist disciple. Qiao Xianming observed Meng Xueli’s calm expression and thought he had made up his mind to silence him, thinking that this disciple was also out of luck.

As Liu Xiaohuai gradually regained consciousness under Meng Xueli’s transmission of true qi, his eyes momentarily blank, suddenly he raised his hand and pointed at Qiao Xianming.

  

“Meng Elder! I am the real Xiaohuai! He is a ghost, no, he’s an imposter! You scoundrel dare to cause trouble in Han Shan, deceiving the Elder!” The disciple leaped up, clearly trembling with fear, his face pale, but he stood in front of Meng Xueli, “Elder, don’t be afraid! I will immediately send a message to the Hall of Executors, no, to Sect Leader Zhenren, to come and vanquish the demons…”

As he spoke, he patted his storage pouch and summoned a peach wood sword.

The most formidable figure he had ever encountered in his life was the head attendant in charge of the Hall of Executors, how could he have any idea on how to contact the Sect Leader. In his panic, he blurted out nonsense, hoping to scare off the demonic and evil being.

 

Qiao Xianming, seeing the situation, became mischievous. He pinched the trembling sword between his fingers and exerted a little force. With a “crack,” half of the wooden sword was snapped off and thrown off the cliff, plummeting into the vast sea of clouds below.

Liu Xiaohuai was stunned, bursting into tears, “Elder Meng, you must run!”

Qiao Xianming looked at Meng Xueli, speechless with shock. He couldn’t believe how effortlessly Meng Xueli maintained the image of being so “weak and harmless” after all these years of living in Han Shan.

Even a seven-year-old child was deceived by you. Shameless!

Meng Xueli glanced at him, feeling embarrassed as he scratched his nose. He bent down to comfort the young Daoist, “Xiaohuai, he’s my friend. We were just playing around earlier. He intentionally disguised himself as you to scare you here. I’m sorry for that. Let me apologize on his behalf. As for this sword, I’ll make you a better one tomorrow…”

Qiao Xianming revealed his true appearance, still somewhat puzzled about the current situation. He only heard Meng Xueli’s gentle tone, “My Dao companion has passed away, and my friend was worried about me grieving too much, so he came up the mountain to visit. Unfortunately, the timing wasn’t great as I was about to head to the ancestral hall. Can you please entertain my guest for a while and take him back to the peak? Wait for me to return, alright?”

The young Daoist halted his tears, hastily wiping his face. His complexion shifted from white to red as he bowed to Qiao Xianming, “I apologize for my rudeness. Senior, please follow me.”

Liu Xiaohuai felt like he had embarrassed himself in front of the entire Changchun Peak. The guest was just trying to amuse Elder Meng, playing a joke, yet he had overreacted, appearing inexperienced. Elder Meng was incredibly patient, not scolding him for his lack of manners but instead comforting him.

Qiao Xianming furrowed his brows, using his eyes to signal Meng Xueli: Can you believe this?

Without needing to resort to violence, without needing to flee, without disturbing the Han Shan Sword Formation, all it took was a few words from you, and they believed it? Is it so easy to fool the ruthless Han Shan Sword Sect?

Meng Xueli didn’t even look at him, affectionately patting the young Daoist’s head, “Go on now.”  

  

Qiao Xianming suddenly realized his foolishness. Everyone knew that Meng Xueli had married Ji Xiao in a stroke of good fortune. Besides Ji Xiao, who was completely reliant on him, who would doubt his words?

As Qiao Xianming followed the young Daoist across the suspension bridge and entered Changchun Peak, he breathed in the rich and refreshing aura. Seeing the lush greenery of the mountains and the exquisite architecture, he couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty around him. He couldn’t resist asking, “What does your Elder Meng usually do?”

The young Daoist answered respectfully, “Elder Meng is indifferent in temperament and enjoys being close to flowers and plants. He personally planted the golden silk peach flowers in the peak, and he often drinks wine and reads scriptures under the flowers. He also keeps three koi fish and a litter of golden money rats…”

Qiao Xianming thought to himself, no wonder Meng Xueli had no desire to leave. Ji Xiao had truly spared no expense; he had created a paradise within the snowy mountains, surpassing even nature’s beauty.

Anyone who received such meticulous care would probably refuse to become a demon king even if it were handed to them for free!

“Elder Meng hasn’t arrived yet?” The Han Shan Sect Leader summoned the head attendant and asked quietly.

The head attendant replied, “We’ve already sent someone to invite him.”

Outside the temple square, after over a thousand elite disciples had finished chanting scriptures, it was time for the guests inside the temple to offer their condolences one by one.

The head attendant was somewhat worried. Elder Meng was young and had shallow cultivation. Faced with such a grand occasion, he might show signs of nervousness. However, as the only living relative of Ji Xiao, there was no reason for him not to come to offer incense. He just hoped that nothing would go wrong. 

 

“Elder Meng is here—” A young attendant announced loudly.

Meng Xueli hurried over after dealing with the troubles on the mountain road, rushing all the way. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his breath was unstable, giving him the appearance of someone who had suffered a great loss and was still in a state of shock.

The Han Shan Sect temple was a grand hall, filled with incense smoke and dim candlelight.

At the end of the temple, the entire wall was covered with memorial tablets, resembling a towering and imposing pagoda that reached all the way to the top of the hall. The names on those tablets overlooked the crowd in the haze of smoke and fire.

As Meng Xueli crossed the threshold, over a hundred pairs of eyes fell on him. He didn’t know where to go and stood there momentarily, feeling lost.

The sect leader, peak masters, and elders stood on either side of the temple, acting as hosts.  

The various factions in the hall were clearly distinguished, with each group standing apart, dressed differently but without any hint of disorder.

However, Meng Xueli felt like he had taken the wrong path, caught between being a host and a guest, feeling awkwardly stared at by others.

Yet, Meng Xueli didn’t feel embarrassed; he actually wanted to greet everyone. After three years of isolation, he now had the desire to communicate with everyone he met.

“Xueli, you’re here. My condolences,” a lean and spirited old man in white robes approached him as the crowd made way for him.

Meng Xueli nodded respectfully, “Sect Leader Zhenren.”

The other peak masters exchanged glances and also stepped forward to pay their respects, guiding him further inside. At this moment and in this place, he represented Ji Xiao in front of outsiders.

Meng Xueli arrived at a fortuitous time; the guests had finished offering their condolences, and the ceremony was nearing its end. Representatives from various factions had come from afar, not just to pay their respects, but also to discuss many matters with the Han Shan Sword Sect.

Just as they were about to ask questions, surprisingly, the formidable figures of the Han Shan Sect began to walk towards the entrance to welcome a finely dressed young nobleman.

This young man wore a snow-blue silk robe with a silver cloak draped over it, holding a delicate hand warmer in his arms. The white fur lining of the cloak complemented his jade-like complexion and exquisite features.

As he approached, the dim and solemn hall seemed to be illuminated by a beam of snowy light, shining brightly for a moment.

The atmosphere remained solemn, but there were many private conversations happening among the attendees.

  

“What an imposing display. Who is this elder?”

“He is Ji Xiao’s Dao companion. By seniority, he is indeed on the same level as the Han Shan Sect Leader. He’s even one generation senior to us.”

“So, he’s Meng Xueli. I heard that three years ago he just started cultivating his qi, and now… not bad, he’s completed the Qi Refinement stage.”

“What’s so great about that? With Ji Xiao around, immortality pills are administered daily. Even ordinary people can refine their qi.”

“Let’s not speak ill of him. He’s also a pitiful figure now.”

Meng Xueli is a figure in the cultivation world. He doesn’t need to desperately cultivate to prove his worth to the sect, nor does he need to fight others for resources. As Dao companions, they share their luck together. Ji Xiao has the means to prolong his life and maybe even help him ascend in the future.  

 

His presence made “heaven rewards diligence” seem like a joke.

After the joint ceremony ended years ago, when people talked about him, they would mostly say, “Beauty is beauty, but it’s a pity…”

“But it’s a pity” was a common sentiment. Compared to the divine and lofty Ji Xiao, Meng Xueli’s appearance and temperament were simply mundane. Hindered by Ji Xiao’s prestige, conversations would halt midway, leaving the unspoken second half understood.

While others cultivated elegant pine and bamboo in their caves, Meng Xueli grew common and charming golden silk peach blossoms. While others raised immortal cranes and blue birds on their peaks, Meng Xueli kept koi, claiming it was for good fortune, and even raised money rats, supposedly for wealth. On his own, he lowered the overall standards of the Han Shan Sect.

But now, when people talked about him, there was no longer envy or jealousy as before. Instead, there was only pity, sighs, schadenfreude, and other complex emotions, as if the future was bound to witness his tragic end.


Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.


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