Green Mountain
Chapter 354 - 293, Uncle

Chapter 354: 293, Uncle

"Old man, have you been to the Temple of Martial Arts?"

"Yes, I have."

"What kind of place is the Temple of Martial Arts?"

"A place where all martial fools yearn to go."

Liang Gou’er rolled his eyes, "That’s as good as saying nothing."

On the official road of the Jing Dynasty, Liang Mao’er diligently drove the ox cart.

Zhu Yunxi sat cross-legged at the tail of the cart, constantly nurturing the Liang Family’s Sword Intent with the Breathing Technique.

Liang Gou’er was lying on the cart, resting his head on his left arm, with a straw in his mouth, his beard grown long, and his hair messy, covering his face.

Everyone was dressed in grey cloth garments, because in the Jing Dynasty, only the nobles with titles were allowed to wear colors, while commoners could only wear grey. When one looked at the crowd in the market, it felt as though the world was grey.

In this Northern Country, color was a form of power, and power was not just color.

They had been traveling north from Lushun for fifteen days, unable to even exchange for a horse carriage to shield them from wind and rain. As commoners, they could only drive an ox cart.

Looking at the blue sky, Liang Gou’er continued to ask, "Old man, tell us more about the Temple of Martial Arts, or about the Jing Dynasty, otherwise what if we get caught off guard when chatting with others?"

Old Yao raised his eyelids and glanced at him, "Shut your mouth, pretend to be mute."

Liang Gou’er was taken aback, "We can’t all be mute, can we?"

Old Yao sneered, "Want to hear a story yet acting so lazy, can’t even say something nice. Do I owe you?"

Liang Gou’er quickly sat up with a fawning smile, massaging Old Yao’s leg, "It’s not easy to meet someone who’s been to the Temple of Martial Arts, please tell us."

Old Yao glanced at him sideways, "It’s said that the Heavenly Pool of Changbai Mountain, where the Temple of Martial Arts is located, is the birthplace of the Lord of War..."

Liang Gou’er widened his eyes, "I’ve heard these nonsensical myths from storytellers since I was a kid, they’re all fake!"

Surprisingly, Old Yao didn’t mock Liang Gou’er, he simply said calmly, "It might be true."

Liang Gou’er looked at Old Yao in disbelief.

He had seen this old imperial physician in action; his realm was at least Seeking Dao Fifth Heaven or higher, at least a Grand Official.

If he said it was true, it might indeed be true.

Liang Gou’er was doubtful, "Old man, you’re not pulling my leg, are you? All that stuff about Fu Xi crafting the Eight Diagrams and Nuwa mending the sky is fake, isn’t it?"

Old Yao responded blandly, "If Nuwa didn’t mend the sky, where would the Forty-nine Heavens come from?"

Liang Gou’er was even more shocked, "Wait a second. You mean the Forty-nine Heavens are related to Nuwa mending the sky?"

Old Yao didn’t answer the question but continued on his own, "Legend has it that at the beginning of chaos, the Lord of War was conceived by Changbai Mountain. When he was born, volcanoes erupted, accompanied by a million divine soldiers, creating a ten-direction purgatory. Over time, the volcanic eruption site accumulated and turned into a lake, which is now the Heavenly Pool of Changbai Mountain."

"The Temple of Martial Arts wasn’t originally a mysterious place. A martial fool named Jiang Xianzong, heartbroken, happened to travel here. He found a short sword in the Heavenly Pool of Changbai Mountain, and then discovered that cultivating beside the Heavenly Pool yielded great insights, even entering a meditative state was easier. So, he built a hut by the pool and stayed there for thirty-seven years, reaching the Divine Realm."

Liang Gou’er was puzzled, "No, no, I’ve heard of Jiang Xianzong, but I heard he obtained a cultivation technique in the Temple of Martial Arts, not a short sword."

Old Yao paused briefly, "Did Jiang Xianzong write you a letter?"

Liang Gou’er was speechless for a moment, "As if he’d write a letter to me, he lived centuries ago!"

Old Yao sneered, "Then that’s settled. Believe what I say. After Jiang Xianzong reached the Divine Realm, many admired him and traveled to build huts by the pool, forming the Temple of Martial Arts."

Liang Gou’er was confused, "But you still haven’t explained why the Lord of War legend is true? Which era did the Lord of War belong to? Why isn’t he mentioned in any myth?"

Old Yao casually replied, "Under the Heavenly Pool, someone carved large characters with Sword Intent."

Liang Gou’er got excited, "Sword Intent? What did they carve?"

"The world and I coexist, all things and I are one."

Liang Gou’er chewed on these twelve words, and after a long while, said sourly, "That’s insanely arrogant! It’s just a few words, if I carve some words, will I become the Lord of War too?"

At this time, Liang Mao’er looked at the silhouette appearing on the official road ahead and turned back, "Master, we’ve reached the foot of Changbai Mountain. The place ahead should be Erdao Baihe Town."

...

...

Erdao Baihe Town is the last populated place before entering Changbai Mountain. Countless martial artists of the Jing Dynasty couldn’t get into the Temple of Martial Arts, so they built huts and settled here.

Some practiced for years, luckily entering the Temple of Martial Arts.

Some spent their entire lives here, only able to look up at the towering snow-capped mountain from the foot of the hill.

As the ox cart entered Erdao Baihe Town, Liang Gou’er was shocked to see dozens of armored soldiers, wearing black armor and pheasant tail helmets, hiding in the alleys, on high alert. Their left hands were on the short crossbows at their waists, and their right hands on the handles of their swords.

Liang Gou’er parted his messy hair to form a gap, "Old man, they’re not here to catch us, are they? Can you handle so many armored soldiers? How about we run?"

Old Yao sneered, "With you guys dragging me down, where can I run? They’re not here to catch people, keep going."

Liang Mao’er, with a forced smile, drove the ox cart into the town. The closer he got to the armored soldiers, the more nervous he became, sweat soaking his palms holding the reins.

However, as they passed by the Jing Dynasty armored soldiers, they merely watched them, coldly seeing them into the town without making a move.

Erdao Baihe Town was silent as a grave.

Passing by a blacksmith’s shop, Old Yao saw the stove still burning, but the blacksmith was hiding in a corner, having stopped his hammering.