Lord of the Desert

Chapter 521 The Platform to Reach the Sky

The calendar was torn to April 12th as scheduled.

Seven days after the start of summer, the shade of trees gradually deepens, all things flourish, and the temperature is just right.

The crowded city of Shenjing is even more crowded than usual.

As the first rays of dawn touched his eyelids, Hong Fan awoke from his meditation and, following his years-long habit, began practicing the Foundation Building Fist.

This punch was slow and powerful, advancing step by step, first from a small courtyard in the corner of the Hong Mansion in Jinhai City to the Xijing Chaori Mansion, and then traveling thousands of miles to enter the Shenjing Zhangwu Academy.

From the 27th to the 33rd year of the Zhenghe era, this punch is about to reach an even higher level.

After sweating slightly, Hong Fan washed up and changed his clothes before going to the front hall to enjoy Aunt Liu's bowl of egg noodles with sesame oil.

Outside the courtyard, the alley was already crowded with tall horses at dawn. Dozens of burly warriors from Jinhai, Xijing, Shenjing and even the entire Nine Provinces were dressed in their best clothes and waited for several hours without a sound of human voices or horses neighing.

At the beginning of Chen Shi (7-9 AM), Hong Fan came out from the middle gate, exchanged greetings with his friends, stood up straight and let Hong Fu tie on the bright red and gold thread cloak that had been blessed with incense at the Jin Hai Land Temple, and then stepped into the carriage.

"drive."

As Gu Yixin, seated atop the carriage shaft, gave a low shout, the red flag unfurled, its four hooves slicing through the capital under the solemn and dignified protection of a group of knights; as for the cheers and clamor along the way, Hong Fan paid no heed.

At 10:00 AM, the sky and earth were bright and clear.

From the north of the capital city to the barrier-like Mount Goza, the plains are vast and flat.

People and horses galloped along the same line, and all they could see were eight peaks clustered together, rising from the ground and into the clouds, their blue and white hues blending together.

The procession carrying the Hong character flag stopped at the foot of the eighth hill of Jietiantai—the lowest in altitude, with a man-made platform on top, used for sacrifices and also as a fighting arena.

The mountain path was steep, and Hong Fan only began to climb the steps under the watchful eyes of everyone. He then saw a group of luxuriously dressed young people descending from the clouds and mist. Several of them looked familiar and should be scions of prominent families in the capital.

They must have come down after delivering the luxury goods.

The person who came to greet us had a handsome face and a fiery red cloak. Among the assembled crowd were the white-clad Ancient Spear Master and the green-clad Little Fighting Emperor.

His identity needed no introduction, and no one inappropriately provoked him.

"Please go first, Blazing Star."

Hou Mingxu voluntarily stepped aside to make way, and several people nodded to him as they passed each other.

After returning the greeting, Hong Fan went upstairs alone.

At this moment, the eighth peak is shrouded in clouds and mist. The climbers are surrounded by nothingness and can hardly see anything else. The silence along the way is serene and quiet. Occasionally, fallen leaves and scattered voices drift down from higher places, but their origins are hard to find.

Hong Fan walked steadily and slowly, simply continuing on his way.

Do not dwell on the past, do not worry about the future, do not care about anything that has happened or has not happened, only experience the slightly damp mist on your clothes and the solid feel of your feet, and walk through the fleeting eternity.

Hundreds of meters later, the clouds disappeared, and a strong wind broke through the remaining fog.

Hong Fan looked up and saw at the end of the long steps, light poured down like a spring, and the celestial palace suddenly appeared.

At the summit of the precipitous peak, Yi She looked down.

"Hong Fan, I've been waiting for you for a long time!"

His furious roar was like a thunderclap.

Hong Fan looked up, his gaze falling on the clear blue sky beyond the ant-like humanoid figures.

From west to east, the seven peaks stand out in a staggered pattern, with the cliffs carved with impressionistic reliefs of sixty-four deceased martial saints from various dynasties. Among them are Baili Shi, Mu Xianzun, and Feng Yiye, who are ranked forty-third, fifty-fifth, and sixty-fourth respectively.

These eight mountain peaks are only two or three hundred meters apart, while the others are more than a thousand meters apart. At this moment, the total number of people on the viewing platform halfway up the mountain is definitely more than 100,000. Most of them are not skilled in martial arts, and they have to set off at least in the first half of the night to get to this position to watch the battle.

All these people have come here for me...

Hong Fan surveyed the scene with a surge of emotion, raised his hand to loosen his cloak, and let it fly freely in the wind.

"Clouds hang low, dragon shadows gleam, thunder roars; mountains tremble, tiger spines sway, wind lingers."

"If only I had wide sleeves to sweep away the misty haze, I could shake my robes and ascend straight to the Heavenly Terrace!"

The four lines of dragon's roar echoed around the mountain, calming the clamor.

Hong Fan shook his clothes and strode up the mountain.

At the end of the stone steps, you reach the top of the rooftop, where the view suddenly opens up.

Eight mountain peaks floated in the sea of ​​clouds. In the core area of ​​the third peak, the closest one, three princes, dressed in bright red and gold dragon robes, sat in their respective seats. Xiao Chu, who had just returned from out of town, accompanied his elder brother.

To the left of the core area are Hong Fan's relatives and friends, including Gu Yixin, Qu Luoyi, Hong Sheng, Hong Lie, Hong She, Wu Ruyi, Bai Jiaci, Lü Yunshi, and Shi Yuanwei.

To the right of the core area are Yi She's family friends and other prominent figures in the capital.

Chu Jiange, Zhong Lianyun, Lou Qianyu and other high-ranking geniuses stood at an even higher position, while at a more peripheral position, there was a tall woman in a long dress with a black stone and gold hairpin who stood out from the crowd. She was Tang Xingqing.

"Hong Fan, I must thank you."

On the opposite side of the white marble arena, Yi She stood with his hands behind his back, speaking proudly.

"What are you thanking me for?" Hong Fan withdrew his gaze and tightened his sleeves one by one.

"Thank you for accepting this challenge. If you didn't have courage, I wouldn't have had this opportunity."

Yi She mocked.

"What kind of courage does that take?"

Hong Fan countered with a question.

“I am not a scholar from a noble family like yours. I have experienced countless life-and-death situations since I started practicing martial arts. Three years ago, I traversed Yunlan Palace City and killed a prince of the same status as your cousin.”

His voice was cold and calm.

"Under the spotlight, standing on jade bricks; what's the big deal about a fight that doesn't involve life or death?"

The voice echoed throughout the seven peaks. Although the tone was flat, it sounded more arrogant and domineering than thunder and storm to Yi She.

The spectators unconsciously quieted down.

"Okay, okay..."

Yi She wanted to retaliate, but he couldn't come up with any experience other than sparring.

“I originally didn’t plan to bring any weapons, but since you’ve admitted to possessing the Wuxiangling, I won’t be polite.”

He was referring to the straight sword stuck in front of him.

This sword has a narrow, light blade with thunder patterns, and is ranked second grade. It is named "Bright Heart".

"It doesn't matter."

Hong Fan remained calm and composed.

Yi She was starting to lose her composure.

Do you know why I came to you?

"No one told me this outright, but it's not hard to guess."

As Hong Fan spoke, he glanced at Xiao Chu from afar—she sat beside the Crown Prince, her eyes filled with both encouragement and silent worry—and then, as if possessed, he looked at Tang Xingqing, who smiled slightly and clenched her fist firmly upon seeing him.

"never mind."

Hong Fan sighed deeply, gathering all his thoughts.

"After a long period of training, I need a battle to test my current combat strength."

"And you, you just happened to be there."

Hong's strength lies in rhetoric, while Yi's weakness lies in it.

The repeated verbal rebuffs had already infuriated Yi She, but the fact that the people he paid attention to only cared about others fueled his rage even more.

"Verifying combat strength? The combat strength of the ninth-ranked genius on the Prodigy Ranking?"

The mockery was ground out between their teeth.

"Do not."

Hong Fan held the sand in his hand and crushed it with a bang.

"What I wish to prove today is unparalleled combat power under the Yuan Magnetic Force."

These words caused an uproar at the Seven Peaks.

"Is what Brother Fan saying...?"

Hong Fu swallowed hard.

"That's exactly right."

The ancient meaning is new and the answer is right.

"Unparalleled in the world? How arrogant!"

Yi She let out a long, sharp laugh and suddenly drew his sword.

The golden dragon roared as it raced around the mountain, suppressing all other noises.

Everyone fell silent.

Heaven, earth, and humanity are all waiting.

PS:

The four lines in the text are adapted from Wang Shouren's "Looking at the Hexi Terrace".

Across the river, Yuelu Mountain holds a long-standing affection, while thunder and rain come day and night to Xiaoxiang.
If only a gentle breeze could sweep away the mist, I could shake off my clothes and ascend the He Xi Terrace.

(End of this chapter)