Chapter 190 — The Old Master of My House
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
"Grandpa Mojiang!
" Shen Mu ran over in haste, flung wide his arms, and hugged the old man in plain cloth with all his strength, meaning to lift him up; but the old man was like the heaviest mountain in the world, and could not be moved at all. Shen Mu laughed aloud in his elation, put forth his whole strength to lift him, and still could not. Mojiang grunted twice, "ah, ah," and set down his box; then at last Shen Mu lifted him, spun him twice around, and planted the old man back on the ground.
Mojiang landed on his backside, scrambled up, patted the dust from his seat, and made a couple of gestures meaning: you are a wicked boy.
"Grandpa Mojiang, you left the village too? How do you come to be here? " Joy and shock warred in Shen Mu's heart.
"That was magnificent just now," he asked swiftly.
"Are all those sword pellets in your box ones you refined yourself? Who else came out with you?
" "Ah, ah!
Ah, ah, ah! " As he spoke, Mojiang gestured with his hands: his brows knit into a look of boredom, his palm patted his cheek in pantomime of sleep, then he thrust out two fingers and walked them along.
His hands flew, his face changed from instant to instant, until Shen Mu's eyes swam. "Grandpa Mojiang, slow down, I cannot follow you. Where is Grandpa Long?
Why is he not with you? " Mojiang looked smug and gestured: he had slipped out of the village in secret, telling no one.
Shen Mu blinked and laughed. "You do not know — I have met Grandpa Tu and Grandpa Xia, and Granny Zhu as well.
They have all left the village already. " Mojiang was astonished. "Ah, ah," he said, and lifting the wooden box he held it out to Shen Mu, signifying that he should carry it for him. Shen Mu gave a cold laugh and did not raise a hand. "Grandpa Mojiang, do not think you can make a fool of me again. That box of yours is terribly heavy — there must be several thousand sword pellets inside.
Your sword pellets are heavy, and the box heavier still.
If I carried it for you, my shoulders would be wrenched from their sockets and I would be flat on the ground!
I was taken in once before; I will not be taken in a second time. " Mojiang grinned a silent, wicked grin and gave Shen Mu a thumbs-up. In all Yincan Village, the ones who loved best to make a fool of Shen Mu were, after the Lame Elder, none other than he.
Suddenly Mojiang raised his brows and looked past Shen Mu's shoulder.
Shen Mu whirled around and saw a middle-aged man striding toward them.
The Emperor's Teacher of Jingping walked quietly up before them and halted when he was still a dozen zhang away. "A figure of the last age?
" he said softly. Mojiang grimaced and gestured twice.
The Emperor's Teacher frowned; he could not understand.
Shen Mu explained, "Your Eminence, Grandpa Mojiang means that he does not count as a figure of the last age — he is still young. " The Emperor's Teacher frowned again. That he could not read Mojiang's words and must have Shen Mu translate for him gave him, somehow, an uncomfortable feeling. "Brother Dao, your arts are transcendent — and yet what you cultivate is not the way of the sword.
" The Emperor's Teacher said with feeling, "I have spoken with several people of the last age, and profited greatly. I thought I had some acquaintance with every kind of divine power and dharma. I never looked to meet a divine power so wholly unlike the rest.
Brother Dao, will you let me witness your art? " Shen Mu was startled. He had seen Mojiang make his move just now: countless sword pellets had risen into the air and become endless flying swords, forcing even the Dutian Demon King to defend himself — and still he had been wounded by those swords.
Shen Mu had thought Mojiang's whole art lay in the sword; yet the Emperor's Teacher said that what Mojiang cultivated was not swordsmanship. Could it be that his true art was greater still than the sword-play he had shown?