Chapter 109: Cause and Effect Intertwined by Fate, A Youth Journeys with Fist and Sword

Eight hundred miles outside Lin'an Prefecture.

The green mountains were faint and layered in mist, filled with ancient, gnarled trees. Yet, at this very moment, the mountains were illuminated by a massive, radiant Buddha-light. Invisible sword qi swept through, clearing vast swathes of forest and carving immense trenches into the earth.

Infinite sword qi surged upward, coalescing into a Bodhisattva statue—even grander, more majestic, and more imbued with Buddha-nature than the sword-qi Guanyin summoned by Hua Jiebing above the Imperial City. This Bodhisattva possessed a thousand eyes, and as they opened, the very world seemed to turn upside down. The countless trees, soil, and dust severed by the sword qi were frozen in mid-air, held by the gaze of the thousand-eyed Bodhisattva, unable to fall.

This supreme statue seemed too powerful for the mortal realm. Opposite the thousand-eyed Bodhisattva sat a monk clad in a crimson cassock, hovering in the void. He clutched a string of golden prayer beads, a golden alms bowl suspended before him, watching the thousand-eyed manifestation with calm eyes. As the Bodhisattva’s gaze descended, the space around the monk rippled; invisible sword qi collided with the Buddha-light, emitting faint, sharp sounds—like the bubbling of boiling water, where rising bubbles burst in quick succession.

"Amitabha, Master Suzhu... we both belong to the Buddhist path. This conflict serves no purpose; let us end it here."

The monk opened his eyes slightly. The corners of his eyes glowed with a molten gold hue, like two flickering flames burning his spirit. He held one palm upright, his other hand fingering the beads, his gaze piercing through the thousand-eyed Bodhisattva to focus on the tall, graceful woman standing behind it.

"Since when has the Holy Monk Duhai of Lotus Temple been willing to lay down his life for the Great Zhao?"

A clear, ethereal voice drifted from behind the thousand-eyed sword-qi Bodhisattva. Then, a woman dressed in flowing white silk emerged. She held a lotus seal, her snow-white wrists adorned with sandalwood beads. Her hair was shaved clean, and her face was like a painting. She floated barefoot, her jade-like feet unblemished by dust.

As she appeared, the surrounding sword qi surged and boiled, blurring everything in sight, making it impossible to observe or capture. Only the Bodhisattva-like woman remained sharp and distinct, as if etched into the world itself.

"Amitabha. The three major Buddhist sects seek to claim the title of Buddha-Head, competing against one another. The Emperor of Zhao seeks to use the Heart Sword to suppress the immortal anomaly within the blood of the Immortals. My disciple perished in Lin'an because of a young man—a youth who walked the path of the green lamp lit by Benefactor Hua. The karmic weight is heavy, and I have come to sever that karma."

The monk wore the "Stainless Lotus Robe," a top-tier artifact that radiated intense spiritual fluctuations.

"Duhai, if that is the case, what more is there to say?" the woman replied. "Jiebing is my disciple; I must save her. If you insist on blocking me, then let us fight and see whose Buddhist dharma runs deeper."

The woman, Master Suzhu of Ganye Temple, spoke without anger, yet the sword qi suspended in the air grew increasingly volatile.

"Amitabha, the dharma is boundless, you and I... hm?"

The Holy Monk Duhai was about to speak when he felt a jolt of surprise. He and Master Suzhu both turned their gazes toward Lin'an. In the distance, they caught a glimpse of a young man stepping into the sky, swinging a mountain to shatter a giant hand imbued with the Emperor’s aura.

Duhai’s brow furrowed, his fiery red eye-lines burning like celestial fire. Master Suzhu smiled, pinching a lotus flower: "Every sip and every peck follows a pattern; all karma is born of fate. My disciple, Jiebing, is safe."

***

On the earth, a mountain rose abruptly, its sword-pavilion craggy and imposing, like a sharp blue blade thrust into the world.

In a pavilion halfway up the mountain, two figures stood. One was a man in plain blue robes, a massive pine-wood sword case strapped to his back, his expression tranquil. Beside him, a breathtaking woman who had removed her veil stood respectfully, a scorched-tail ancient zither on her back.

"The Zhao Emperor seeks a second life; he wants Hua Jiebing’s Heart Sword to suppress the immortal blood and extend his reign by five hundred years..." The Sixth Mountain Lord frowned slightly. "Yunrou, you will stay on the mountain from now on. I need you to guard it."

"Master, are you going to intervene?" Yunrou asked, startled. "Your Red Dust Sword has been tempered for so many years; the time to draw it has not yet come. If you act now, will all your previous efforts not be in vain?"

"That is why I will seal the mountain after I strike. I need you to hold the fort. In this mortal world, there are times when one must act, lest one leave regrets in the red dust." The Sixth Mountain Lord, expressionless and cool, turned away.

He took a single step, and sword qi instantly flooded the mountain, converging into light beneath his feet. However, just as he stepped into the air, his cool expression betrayed a flash of astonishment. He stared at the heroic spirit rising from Lin'an, and a flush crept across his face. The pine-wood sword case on his back erupted with a metallic clanging, as if the swords within were desperate to leap out.

"Yunrou, look at that heroism, that joy, that sword qi... Truly, it is a great loss that I did not make An Le the second guardian of the mountain."

***

Before the Tianxuan Palace.

The youth stepped into the sky, clutching a tattered bamboo sword. He intercepted the giant hand formed by the Emperor’s divine spirit and national destiny, thrusting his bamboo sword—"Green Mountain"—straight into the palm.

Standing before the throne, the Zhao Emperor, who had believed everything was within his grasp, showed his first flicker of shock. The hand he had condensed with his divine spirit and imperial aura to seize the Heart Sword had been shredded to pieces!

A sharp blast of sword qi surged from outside the palace. The Emperor’s brows knit together like a mountain range; his aura surged, instantly crushing the incoming sword qi. However, the gale whipped through the palace, causing his golden imperial robes to flap violently.

*Puchi.*

A sound seemed to ring out. The Emperor’s lips tightened, shock and malice warring in his eyes. He hid his hand behind his back, clenching it into a fist. Deep within his palm, a sword-scar had appeared, blood welling up, which he forced back with his inner spirit.

He… had been wounded by that youth’s sword qi!

"Green Mountain! That Green Mountain sword!" The Emperor’s heart churned with rage. The sword that should have belonged to the Zhao royal family had been given to this boy by Zhao Huangting. And now, the boy had used it to cut his palm.

"A mere Fourth-Realm cultivator, wielding the Green Mountain—how could he possibly shatter a hand condensed by my divine spirit and imperial aura?!" The Emperor could not fathom it. He was a Ninth-Realm powerhouse. Even if An Le held a top-tier blade, the wielder was but a boy. How could he overcome a Ninth-Realm attack, let alone leave a mark?

The youth, whom no one had paid attention to, now hung in the air before the Tianxuan Palace, atop the white jade plaza like a sharp spike driven into the heart of the battlefield.

Inside the Tianxuan Palace, Li You'an felt the domineering sword qi flowing from his own brow. He looked out at the youth, whose heroic spirit rose like smoke, and was stunned. Such boldness, such heroism—it felt as if the figure of an old man had overlapped with the boy's.

Qin Lishi and the other officials were horrified. Qin Lishi, who hated An Le to his bones, had never imagined the boy could display such prowess in this chaos.

"Fourth Realm... How?" Qin Lishi was bewildered, yet deeply wary. He realized he had to re-evaluate the danger An Le posed. He felt a shiver of relief that he hadn't rashly attacked the boy himself to avenge Qin Qianqiu.

On the sea of clouds, Di Zang and the Second Master looked on in awe. Outside Lin'an, the fourth master of the Lin family, wielding his wood-chopping knife, grinned, his eyes wide as he gazed at the youth who had pierced the Emperor's hand.

"What a display of youthful heroism! What a famous Master An!"

With a roar of laughter, the Fourth Master’s knife erupted with blood-red light, severing hundreds of willow branches along the road. The Sima family’s literary star barely parried the blow, flying backward and slamming into the city wall, blood staining his robes.

***

Before the Imperial City, Zhao Huangting, his white hair flying, struck with his bamboo staff, forcing the two decaying ancestral wills from the Imperial Mausoleum into disarray. He squinted at the youth in the distance, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his eyes. He saw in the boy his own past—the days when he dared to take up a bamboo sword and challenge the first Emperor of Yuan-Meng.

"What if my time is running out? The closer the end, the more one should possess the courage to fear neither heaven, nor earth, nor the gods!"

Zhao Huangting closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the confusion was gone. His gaze was clear, and a long-dormant heroism bloomed from the depths of his eyes. His stooped back slowly straightened.

***

Hua Jiebing, trapped and pushed to the brink by Eunuch Tong, had prepared to perish with her enemies. But the sudden surge of heroic spirit and the sight of An Le shattering the Emperor’s hand interrupted her resolve.

*An Le!*

She watched him, dazed. Was this the same shy boy who had first stepped onto the path of cultivation? She didn't dwell on the shock for long; she knew this was her chance. She released the sword qi from her Heart Sword, her brow's sword-furnace clanging like a waterfall.

*Boom!*

The divine spirit array holding her sword-qi Guanyin shuddered violently. The four experts maintaining the array turned pale, their spirits nearly shattered. They bit their tongues to stabilize their minds, glaring in fury. Though Hua Jiebing was only at the Eighth Realm, her Heart Sword made her combat power no less than any Ninth-Realm master.

The array stabilized, and Eunuch Tong, recovering, morphed into countless black shadows, lunging at Hua Jiebing. She failed to break the array, filled with regret.

But the situation had changed. An Le’s legend was only beginning.

Bathed in the "Heroic Spirit Pull," An Le felt his aura soar to an unimaginable level. He felt as if he had merged with the old Imperial Uncle from years ago. The invincible dragon of his spirit roared, circling the heroic smoke like a tiny snake.

An Le laughed. He gripped the Green Mountain and looked toward the divine spirit array. The void beneath his feet seemed to form solid steps. As he moved, the smoke of his heroism moved with him.

"Stop him!" the Zhao Emperor’s cold voice echoed.

Guards and the four experts holding the array surged toward An Le. The lead guard commander swung a heavy halberd, but An Le merely glanced at him and tapped the Green Mountain. With a light touch, he severed the halberd and pierced through the commander, whose blood sprayed like a fountain.

Facing the four experts, An Le tapped his sword again. "Sword Qi, Youthful Wandering."

The four experts froze, realizing a bamboo sword tip had already pierced their chests, crushing their hearts. They fell to the white jade plaza like red roses blooming in the snow.

The youth had killed five men in a heartbeat. The entire palace was shocked. Even though they knew the youth’s momentum was fading, the Zhao Emperor could not immediately find a Ninth-Realm expert to suppress him.

An Le stepped before the array and thrust his sword. *Crack.* The array, which had trapped Hua Jiebing, split.

An Le felt his aura waning. He turned to look at the bewildered Hua Jiebing, gave a shy, bashful smile, then let go of his sword, leaving it embedded in the array. He clenched his fist and punched the hilt of the Green Mountain.

Sword qi exploded. With a roar of heroic spirit, the array—a web of conspiracies and darkness—was shattered by the youth’s punch and sword.

Darkness broke. Light emerged.