Chapter 1444 — The Blade of Law

Walk straight ahead—the young man in the red robe listening to music on the Sparrow-Gathering Terrace, that's him. " Shen Mu walked on. Music sweet to the ear reached him; among jade halls and jeweled towers, singing girls sang, dancing girls danced, and musicians plucked the strings and pipes. Shen Mu looked up. On the high terrace a man in a great red robe sat with a woman on each arm, and around him many divine-arts practitioners frolicked with him, their laughter shaking the heavens.

Shen Mu walked forward and started up the stairs. At the foot of the stairs a divine-arts practitioner blocked him. "His Excellency is listening to music upstairs.

The Sparrow-Gathering Terrace has been reserved entirely. Please go back.

" Shen Mu leaned in close; the muscle of his shoulder flexed with a bang, and the practitioner was sent flying backward, smashing a great hole in the Sparrow-Gathering Terrace. Shouts of rebuke came from above, and many practitioners poked their heads down. Shen Mu flicked his fingers one after another, and each practitioner was sent flying upward by the force of his finger-wind, crashing through the floors with resounding thuds.

Shen Mu climbed the stairs. Suddenly he heard the hum of a sword. He tapped lightly with the iron strip. The practitioner's flying sword was incomparably sharp, and what he held was only an iron strip beaten from common iron—yet when he tapped the flying sword, it burst apart at once, while the iron strip remained unharmed. He had used no cultivation at all, only the simplest of techniques.

Technique, method, Dao.

These three are the steps by which a divine-arts practitioner learns and advances.

First one learns technique—sword technique, Daoist technique, blade technique, formation technique, medical technique. When technique is learned to its utmost, one learns method—sword method, Dao method, blade method, formation method, medical method. Only when method is perfected can one comprehend the Dao.

The Dao cannot be learned; it can only be comprehended.

What Shen Mu used was the simplest blade technique, passed down in Hidden Remnant Village, while his opponent employed exquisite sword methods—the classic sword arts handed down in Jingping, bearing even traces of several sword moves created by Jiang Baigui and Shen Mu himself.

Yet Shen Mu had reached the point where great skill appears artless. Though it was the simplest blade technique, breaking his opponent's exquisite sword methods was simplicity itself. He mounted the terrace, and dozens of sword lights came at him head-on. The men with Wei Qinghe all sprang up, cursing without cease, riding their swords to kill him, all of them using Jingping's most exquisite sword arts.

In Shen Mu's day these sword arts had been rare in the world—one might even call them sect-guarding-level sword arts. But now anyone could learn them.

Shen Mu held the iron strip, flicking and tapping lightly. Crack after crack rang out. He did not pause his steps but walked on, flying swords bursting apart before him, behind him, all around him.

Suddenly a divine light struck at his face—the man in the red robe, Wei Qinghe, had abruptly roused a divine sword and thrust it straight at Shen Mu's brow! Shen Mu raised the iron strip and cut into the wind. Ding—a clear, ringing note.

Wei Qinghe's face lit with joy. He leaped up and cried, "You broken-down wretch bought by some lowborn—you dare assassinate me, and you don't even know who my father is! My father dotes on me; he long ago bestowed on me a divine sword to protect me.

. .

" Not a nick marred the iron strip in Shen Mu's hand, while the divine sword suddenly showed dense cracks, then burst with a crack and shattered across the floor.

Wei Qinghe was terrified out of his wits. Shen Mu walked up to him. "Wei Yong's son, Wei Qinghe?

" Wei Qinghe said in a panic, "Brother, you're still young—don't do anything rash. . .

" Chi— The iron strip in Shen Mu's hand blazed with a dazzling, breathtaking blade light. The blade rose and fell, and a line of blood appeared from Wei Qinghe's left shoulder to beneath his right ribs; then his upper body slid away at a slant.

An uproar swept the terrace.

Singing girls, dancing girls, and musicians scattered and fled.

Wei Qinghe's attendants soared into the air, shrieking, "Go quickly and report to His Excellency Wei—the young master has been killed! " Shen Mu shook the blood from the iron strip, sat down squarely with his legs spread wide, poured himself a cup of wine, and waited quietly. Zaifu showed appreciation.

"You have come back. I feel that youth Shen Mu who walked out of Hidden Remnant Village in the Barren Ruins has come back! Shen'er, will you not leave?

Wei Yong was your friend from childhood; your bond ran deep. You killed his son—are you not afraid to face him?

" "Killing one Wei Qinghe is utterly useless! " Shen Mu's face was expressionless. "I will invite Wei Yong to drink, and to admire my blade of law. " Zaifu tilted his head. "Troublesome.

" He too sat down and poured himself wine, drinking on his own.

Later, finding the cup too much trouble, he simply threw away the lid of the wine pot and drank straight from it. In the distant city of Jiangling, divine lights streaked and divine might billowed as they came racing toward them.

Dong— A great fat god descended from the sky and landed on the Sparrow-Gathering Terrace, shaking the building without cease.

The fat god was awe-inspiring as he bellowed, "Who killed my beloved son? " Just then three or five more divine lights fell from the sky, revealing several gods. They all stepped forward and shouted, "Where is the vermin who dares run wild and kill?

" "Killing an official of the court—no trial needed. Execute him on the spot!

" But the great fat god was staring at the youth seated behind his son's corpse, and his body began to tremble, the fat on his face quivering with it.

The several gods were about to step forward when Wei Yong suddenly spread his arms and blocked them. They were puzzled, thinking he meant to take action himself and avenge his son, so they stepped aside. Wei Yong strode forward and opened his mouth.

"Brother Shen. . .

" "Brother Wei, call me Imperial Preceptor of Jingping.

" Shen Mu raised a hand and said blandly, "Your son—I killed him. You and I have been friends for many years. When I walked out of the Barren Ruins, the first friend I made was you.

We crossed the Golden River by boat together, traveling to the capital to seek office, and on the road we met the rebellion of the Dragon-Taming Sect. After many a bloody fight, ours was a friendship that passed through death. I killed your son, and I am deeply ashamed.

So I poured a cup of wine and waited for you, to apologize.

" Wei Yong wept bitterly.

"You could have taught him a lesson—why kill him? I will not drink your wine! " "Drink it or not, as you please. " Shen Mu rose and said in a low voice, "There is much injustice in this world. I can act on the courage of a common man, walk with my blade, take your son's head, and let his blood splash five paces. I am Imperial Preceptor of Jingping; I have that power. But the common people can only suffer your son's bullying and cheating.

This made me realize that the courage of a common man, the blade of a common man, brings only a moment's satisfaction—it cannot pacify the realm, cannot govern the realm. So I have comprehended a move: the blade of law.

Brother Wei, instruct me!