Chapter 68: She Danced with Her Sword That Early Summer

A thousand thoughts raced through Zhong Ming’s mind, yet he could not figure out where Madam Fish had come from.

In his memory, Madam Fish was a capable woman, always quick and decisive in her actions. She was famous in the village for her diligence, often outworking even the men in heavy labor. Her skin was dark, not quite beautiful nor ugly—just plain and ordinary.

She was efficient, but her temper was fierce. When she argued with Lu Dashu, she could kick him straight out of the house, leaving him kneeling on the threshold for two hours. Sometimes, she would go to the Liang family to borrow grain, and though embarrassed to speak, she would give an awkward smile, flashing her white teeth and shaking her empty rice sack—only then did she show a hint of a housewife’s modesty.

Such an ordinary farm woman—where could she have gotten a sword? Blades and swords were rare in these times, but not entirely unseen; yet, for a common household to own even a short knife was already brazen, and a martial artist’s longsword was a violation of the law.

Strictly speaking, since the founding of New Tang, it had been prohibited to carry swords and blades without authorization.

Scholars subverted the law with words; knights did so with force.

To prevent trouble before it began, the court had never supported civilians possessing weapons. Only after the chaos of war did some weapons find their way among the people, and martial artists cared little for regulations. Such laws were mere formalities, useful only against commoners.

In Muddy Village, no one wished to be a villain—they were simply ordinary folk. With Lu Dashu’s timid nature, there was no way he would hide a sword at home.

That made the origin of this sword—and Madam Fish herself—all the more intriguing.

After a moment’s thought, Zhong Ming knew he could not delay further. He turned and hurried outside.

Just as he stepped out, Zhang Nianchen came up to him and said, “Layman Zhong, let me go with you, just in case.”

Perhaps Zhang Nianchen had heard from his master that the culprit this time was skilled in martial arts, and he worried for Zhong Ming’s safety.

Zhong Ming waved him off. “It’s just a trifling matter in our Muddy Village; there’s no need to trouble you, young Daoist.”

With that, Zhong Ming strode out, leaving Zhang Nianchen in the house, his face full of concern.

Once outside, Zhong Ming mounted his horse. Just then, Liang Yu galloped up from behind. He slowed his horse slightly and called out, “Ming, what do we do now?”

“Follow me!”

Spurring his old horse, Zhong Ming headed straight for the eastern fields, Liang Yu close behind. The two horses sped off, leaving the villagers, who had been watching the commotion, with mixed expressions. Many could not help but worry for them.

As the two horses raced out of the village, Carpenter Li, wrapped in his long robe, was watching the excitement from his courtyard, Big-Bearded Hu Suo by his side.

Watching Zhong Ming ride off, Carpenter Li said anxiously, “I hear there are many ruffians in Riverbank Village. I wonder if these two young men can handle it. Hu Suo, perhaps you should follow and see?”

“No need, Master,” Hu Suo replied with a slight smile. “Did you not see that Madam Lu left with a sword?”

Carpenter Li had indeed seen it as Madam Fish departed. He hesitated. “She’s just a woman. I didn’t sense any internal energy from her—she doesn’t seem like an inner school expert. What could she really do?”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Master. Madam Lu is no ordinary person, and her sword is no ordinary sword.”

Sensing Hu Suo’s intention to boast, Carpenter Li scolded him with a smile, “Stop keeping me in suspense. Just tell me, what’s so special about that sword?”

Knowing it was playful rebuke, Hu Suo still cupped his hands and admitted his fault. “My apologies. The sword Madam Lu carries is called Hundred Blossoms. It ranks tenth on the Divine Arms List.”

Carpenter Li’s eyes widened in surprise. He sighed, “Hundred Blossoms? The swirling east wind leaves only the flowers behind… Could she be the famed Lady of the Hundred Blossoms from the Celestial Heroes List?”

“If I’m not mistaken, that sword is indeed Hundred Blossoms—she must be the heir of Hua Wuyu, the one known as ‘Heavenly Skill’,” Hu Suo confirmed.

At this, Carpenter Li understood at last. No wonder Hu Suo was so confident—she was none other than the thirty-sixth ranked legend on the Celestial Heroes List.

‘Heavenly Skill’ was the last of the thirty-six, the straggler among the legends, yet she bore the nickname of the “strongest of the weakest.”

The Celestial Heroes List was all about martial cultivation. Unlike cultivators who had clear stages like Forming Qi, Gathering Power, Forming the Core, and Transforming the Infant, martial artists divided their internal strength into only two realms: Seeking Qi and Layering Force.

Seeking Qi was the beginner realm, like Zhong Ming now. When one had cultivated nine strands of true qi, it was complete. To form a tenth was to step into the next realm—Layering Force.

Layering Force demanded further refinement, and before one gathered seventy-two strands, one was still in the Earthly Kill Layering Force. Beyond seventy-two, one entered the Celestial Heroes Layering Force.

Those who reached this level were qualified to become legends. Most on the Celestial Heroes List were at this realm, and even if not, they possessed prodigious gifts, with at least sixty strands of true qi.

Hua Wuyu, the last on the list, was an exception among exceptions. She had never trained in inner skills, yet forced her way onto the Celestial Heroes List through her peerless swordsmanship, defeating countless inner school masters with sheer external technique.

Lady Hua Wuyu was once the idol of countless heroes, her fame resounding across the realm some thirty years ago.

Carpenter Li had been a child then, but he’d heard her stories.

“If she is Hua Wuyu’s heir, there should be no trouble.”

The two horses were long out of sight. Carpenter Li gazed eastward, smiled quietly, and pulled his robe tighter as he returned indoors.

Hu Suo scratched his tangled beard, chuckling. “To think such a master lives among us—how unexpected.”

Fate is unpredictable. Sometimes, you find those around you hide astonishing stories.

…

The sun blazed overhead, and already, the heat of early May pressed down.

On the narrow path amid the eastern fields, two horses raced forward, Zhong Ming leading. He whipped the reins, urging his old steed to fly, hooves barely touching the ground as if it were a galloping swallow.

Liang Yu followed at full speed. Yet, even at their fastest, they could not catch up with Madam Fish. Zhong Ming had hoped to intercept her midway—she was, after all, just a woman, her martial abilities unknown. Facing a disciple of the Iron Eagle Claw, she might suffer.

When Zhong Ming reached the eastern fields, he saw, from afar, a crowd of men surrounding someone at the edge of the fields.

In his urgency, Zhong Ming shouted from horseback, “You villains, dare not harm the innocent!”

He was too late to prevent the attack. All he could do was urge his horse straight into the crowd, hoping to break their encirclement.

As he drew nearer, Zhong Ming saw at least a dozen men had surrounded Madam Fish. The burly leader jeered, “Whose little lady is this? Fine peaks on your chest, but you think waving a sword will scare us?”

Madam Fish’s eyes flashed with anger, her face cold as frost. Without a word, she slowly drew her sword.

It was a slender longsword, its hilt carved with leaves, the pattern running up the blade, the center etched with vines, and petals swirling in bas-relief.

This was the renowned, elegant sword—Hundred Blossoms, the Goddess’ Blade.

Just as the name Hua Wuyu once evoked, her sword and her techniques exuded the refined grace and wisdom of a woman.

Madam Fish raised her sword. The brutes around her showed no concern, one even reaching for her wrist.

“Have you ever heard of a sword move called ‘Blossoms Over the Hills’?” she asked.

Whether she expected an answer or not, she didn’t wait. With a flick of her wrist, the sword glinted, and suddenly, a storm of swordlight filled the air.

Like a cascade of flowers, the swordlight bloomed all around her, the blade flashing red in the sun, its petal engravings scattering fragments of crimson light.

Blossoms Over the Hills—petals drifted through the air.

It was a dazzling sight, leaving even Zhong Ming, galloping up, momentarily stunned.

The ruffians had no time to react. Several were struck by the blade’s light—across their bodies, across their cheeks—blood spattering wildly.

The burly leader, a disciple of the Iron Eagle Claw, was faster than the rest. With a furious shout, he shaped his hands into claws, reaching to seize the swordlight.

He tried to catch the blade with his bare hands—what foolishness! All he received was the fate of severed fingers.

Both hands, ten fingers—six were sliced clean off. Blood and flying digits mingled with the sea of sword-blossoms, giving the scene a bizarre beauty.

More than ten men fell to the ground, clutching their wounds, wailing in agony.

The Iron Eagle Claw disciple suffered most—fingers gone from both hands, he could only cradle his mangled limbs and roar, “You wretched slut, ah! You’ll be the death of me!”

The sword flashed again—his tongue was cut out. Blood gushed from his mouth as he could only grunt and moan, terror erasing all anger from his face.

Madam Fish sheathed her sword, her expression calm once more. Her voice was icy: “Today I spare your lives. By noon tomorrow, I want to see every uprooted seedling replanted where it was. If even one is missing, I’ll come to Riverbank Village and kill.”

Her swordplay, though dazzling, had not taken a single life. Beneath her fierce exterior lay a kind heart.

Many in the martial world believe in eradicating evil to the root. To spare an enemy is a grave taboo; as the saying goes, mercy to your enemy is cruelty to yourself. Feuds in the martial world often stretch back generations—endless cycles of vengeance.

Today, Madam Fish unleashed Hundred Blossoms, maiming more than ten men but killing none. She risked the scorn of the martial world to spare her enemies—a testament to her great kindness.

The martial world is rarely the romantic place of heroes and beauties that legends suggest. More often, it is cruel.

For every hero who rises, how many ghosts are trampled beneath their feet?

Seeing they had been spared, the ruffians hastily kowtowed in thanks—some even rushed to the fields to replant the rice.

Zhong Ming sat on his horse, stunned. At length, he dismounted and hurried to Madam Fish’s side, raising his hand, unsure what to say.

He had come to rescue her, yet saw only a glorious sword dance. Questions filled his mind, but words stuck in his throat.

Madam Fish had noticed his arrival when he first shouted. She turned and smiled at him. “Forgive me, sir, I have a quick temper. I cannot stand seeing my husband bullied. My man can only be beaten by me—no one else is allowed to lay a finger on him.”

Zhong Ming gave her a thumbs-up, then laughed heartily. “You’re right, Sister Lu. No one bullies our own!”