Food Fairy Lord

Chapter 725 Xianghuang
After thousands of years, the Mirage Realm welcomed its new ruler, Bai Shui and the true blood of the Mirage Dragon merged.

The shrinking of the Mirage is a process of moving closer to and connecting with the new ruler. When this process is completed, that is, after the Water Lord's enthronement ceremony, the Mirage will hand over everything to the new ruler, and then it will begin to reconnect with the real world.

Although its departure and return were silent for most people in the world, for all those who came into contact with it or are coming into contact with it, it was a world-shaking change.

The monk lowered his head. These thousand-year-old wandering souls had already climbed onto his ankles. He knew that the Mirage Realm was now accessible, and people were entering it. However, he could not leave.

He had encountered swords of intent before, but the vast majority could not shake his resolve. A small number required the light of Zen mind to dispel them. Only a very small number of people and a very small number of swords could ensnare him.

At this time in Shenjing, encountering such a sword of intent, besides that poet, is something no one else could imagine.

"Master of the Flying Light Sword, this humble monk greets you." The monk bowed with one palm and nodded slightly. "I have long admired your name, but we have never met. It is a pity that our meeting today will end in battle. Would you please show yourself to me?"

In the endless, cold water where the lonely souls drifted, the figure of a man dressed in simple clothes and shoes appeared, and he bowed with his hands clasped: "General Chan, greetings. We are all on our own, please forgive us today."

The monk bowed again: "Sword Master's demeanor is captivating at first sight."

He bent down with his gun in hand, and boundless Buddhist light rose from beneath Li He's feet, rendering him unable to move. The monk straightened up, and the sharp tip of his gun was pointed at him.

Li He sighed, "Even monks lie!"

"He has committed the precept against killing for thirty years, so he is certainly not a true monk."

Thousands of lonely souls vanished like mist, and the killing power of the iron spear swept across the hundred-foot-deep water. Li He drew his sword to block the spear, but was instantly propelled away and crashed into the hard dragon bone.

However, Li He still did not use the power of "Flying Light Cuts Lifespan". His figure was torn away like a piece of paper and disappeared without a trace.

"The dragon bones beneath my feet, their incense still lingering. Let me borrow Li He's power for now."

A soft sigh echoed in the water. A man, seemingly out of nowhere, reached out and pulled a colossal dragon soul from the corpse. The monk whirled around as the divine creature born from the cold depths hurtled toward him, as if he could hear a silent howl.

His skin immediately turned deathly pale, as if all life had been washed away.

The monk sat cross-legged with a spear across his body, and the golden lacquer-like color seeped from his skin like liquid, thus sculpting himself into a golden Arhat.

Unaffected by any cold, the monk, with a fierce and wrathful expression, raised his hand and gripped the neck of the dragon spirit beneath him.

Most swordsmen's intent sword is often just one sword intent. The dual intent swords of Mingzhu Water Pavilion, [Reflecting the White Moon on the Water] and [Dark Pearl Sinking into the Abyss], are already top-notch in Shaolong.

But beneath the sword of the Flying Light Sword Master lies a world of sword intent.

Those who know it call it the "Ghost Realm," a magnificent, secluded, and strangely vibrant world that follows his sword. The most common rule is that the dead become spirits and corpses are brought back to life. Its unpredictability is what makes it so deadly and worthy of waiting to be slaughtered.

Moreover, it is often melancholic and captivating, and many times people die in this world feeling that they should have died, in order to resist the chilling clarity of the afterlife, and from then on dance with ghosts and spirits. This is the blurring of the boundary between life and death.

But the monks' bodies remained almost unbroken.

He clearly hadn't figured out this world and was still being attacked from all sides, but none of them could really harm him. He rejected them one by one, and with his spear, he soared up into the sky like a roc.

The righteous and dignified Arhat appeared in the poet's ghostly realm. Li He was clearly not incapable of harming him. He had already enveloped the other party with countless swords of intent, while the monk could hardly touch his shadow.

However, killing this person seems to require a direct confrontation.

The physique honed on the battlefields of the Northern Wilderness means that, in the clash of armies, a general's second most important task is to break through enemy lines, and his first is to avoid being beheaded. Zhao Lingjun would be defeated by the sword if he failed to break through this barrier, but even if he were defeated, he would not die easily.

The monk was clearly aware of this. He didn't know why the poet hadn't used the flying light technique, but since there was an opening, he went for it.

The gold flakes on his body peeled away like decaying leaves, their color washed away, and he was visibly growing weaker, yet his Zen-like light remained, undisturbed by any spirits. Li He did not reappear, nor did Fei Guang; he had simply vanished from this world.

It also rushed out of the lake.

The monk paused for a moment. The lake was shrouded in white mist, with no shore in sight, only torrential rain.

Li He did not chase after them.

Having spent many days in the spiritual realm, he had almost forgotten that the world even had sky and air. He stood on the lake for a moment, then felt somewhat dazed, as if he had forgotten something, but couldn't quite remember it.

At that moment, he saw a small boat floating on the lake. The boat was still lit, and on it stood a woman in a red dress, with a slender figure, a golden mask covering her head, and long hair tied up behind her back.

The monk recognized her as Princess Jinyang, the eldest daughter of the current emperor of the Tang Dynasty. For some reason, he felt a sense of disorientation, as if he should know this eldest daughter by now, but upon reflection, it was indeed the first time they had met.

He bowed with one palm and said slowly, "Greetings, Your Highness. Have I seen you in my dreams?"

He straightened up and surprisingly did not notice any guards around him.

The woman did not return the greeting, but simply said in a flat tone, "General Chan, it's been a long time."

The monk was somewhat bewildered. At that moment, he noticed that the woman was carrying a sword with a bamboo sheath and handle. It was neither too thick nor too thin, but rather slender, with a deep, vibrant green color, like a slender bamboo that had just been cut.

Only the end dangled on the boat, and as raindrops trickled down the sheath, they left behind speckled tear stains.

The monk was once again somewhat dazed, as if a layer of fog had been shrouded in his mind. He frowned, wondering if he was still in Li He's "ghost realm." He raised his hand and pressed down, and the red-clad figure was held in place, as if being choked by an invisible force.

The monk stepped forward and pressed the sharp tip of his spear against her neck: "Your Highness, why do you come to see me alone?"

The woman said in a flat voice, "Has General Zen forgotten who I am?"

The monk looked up abruptly, only to see that the spear tip was pointing at nothing but a wisp of mist, with only condensed droplets clinging to the sharp blade.

In a flash, their swords clashed, sparks flying everywhere! He leaned back and drew his short sword from his waist, slashing at his neck, only to collide with a blade that was a foot long from its sheath. Water droplets clinging to the two blades scattered and splashed, mingling with the sparks like a small, cold firework.

Then the monk saw that his short knife, which he had carried for more than ten years, had been cut open.

It wasn't a chipped edge, but a real cut. The knife was two inches wide, and now it smoothly split open by more than an inch. The woman's soft red sleeves floated past the edge of her vision, and beneath the golden face were a pair of clear black eyes.

The monk jerked his wrist and changed his move, the short sword snapped in two. He raised the remaining half of the short blade to protect his throat, and with a crisp clash, the short blade was cut off again, the bright blade a foot long from its sheath pressed against his neck.

Blood trickled down his mottled, golden skin, while rain clung to the smooth, cold blade of his sword.

The monk remained motionless, his right hand still holding a long spear pointing straight forward, while his left hand held a short knife at his collarbone, no longer able to catch up with the sword.

He now truly knew who he had encountered. No wonder Li He was not in a hurry to break through his golden body, for even the most difficult general to kill could only be beheaded with a single stroke of this sword.

The woman stood beside him, holding the scabbard horizontally, her long skirt soaked in the rain.

Its blade, once drawn, creates a mist that stretches for ten miles; its sharpness is unparalleled in the world.

Famous sword, 【Xianghuang】.

Li Tishui.

The monk remained frozen in place. With just a thought, the sword would pierce his neck, and his head would be smoothly separated from his body like a jade carving.

"Since even the two sword masters have to take action, this humble monk has no regrets even if I die."

Li Tishui remained silent, holding her sword still. Li He climbed out of the water, brushed the water off his sleeves, examined the blade of the sword Li Tishui had placed against the monk's neck, and then closed his sleeves in silence. The monk looked ahead and saw a woman dressed in pure white, her clothes stained with blood, sitting on the boat.

The rain seemed to be stopping, but the fog still lingered. The monk stood there for a long time before suddenly remembering something. He lowered his eyelashes and sighed softly, "Greetings, Your Highness. We haven't been apart for a moment, and I almost forgot about you."

Li Xizhou held neither a knife nor a sword. She looked at the monk and said, "General Chan, you are astute and decisive, truly a renowned general. Have you already sent Yongji away?"

Only one can live, one has to live.

"Keeping the general alive is a satisfactory result," Li Xizhou said. "Sooner or later, Yong Ji would not have left Shenjing alive."

The monk closed his eyes: "From now on, all matters are none of my concern. I have a request, Your Highness, could you please pass on a last letter to the monks in the temple?"

He pursed his lips and closed his eyes, his tall, thin figure standing still in the rain, the mottled gold not yet completely faded, giving him a truly solemn and dignified air.

Li Xizhou stared at him quietly for a while, then smiled faintly: "General Chan, are you determined to die?"

"..."

After a moment of silence on the lake, the monk opened his eyes and looked at the woman sitting on the edge of the boat.

"Is...is it still possible to survive?" His pupils shifted slightly.

Li Xizhou smiled and asked, "What does General Chan think?"

The monk said earnestly, "I believe that living is always better than dying."

Li Xizhou laughed and casually raised his hand: "General Chan is a famous general of the country. How could I possibly break my own arm? General, you have mistakenly bound yourself to wolves and vultures. It would be better for you to cultivate in the Shenjing Temple for a few years so that you can return to the right path."

The monk's face was solemn: "Your Highness's words have truly awakened the lost. The Prince of Yan is no wise ruler. He has now realized his mistake."

Li Xizhou smiled: "From our first meeting, I can tell that the general has great wisdom."

The monk whispered, "Amitabha, this humble monk will now go to the Immortal Platform to see the Master and ask for directions."

"When we meet again in the future, I will play chess with the general again."

"Amitabha."

The two sword masters glanced at Li Xizhou, the woman bowed respectfully, Li He returned the bow, Li Tishui and the woman exchanged a look, and then the two sword masters and the monk walked away into the distance.

Pei Ye lay on the side of the boat, staring intently, most of his body submerged in the water.

Li Xizhou lowered his head: "What are you still staring at?"

Pei Ye frowned: "He really isn't embarrassed at all."

Then he looked up and gazed at the woman's pale face for a moment: "You too."

Li Xizhou raised his hand expressionlessly and gently slapped him on the forehead.

Pei Ye was not afraid at all. He turned to look at the flat lake. The sword master had left quickly. The fog had begun to dissipate and the rain was gradually lessening and clearing up.

"Your test is over. You've passed." Pei Ye didn't turn around. "Now, everyone should remember you again. I wonder what's going on."

“Only those who have realized they have forgotten should remember,” Li Xizhou said. “For others, it should be as if nothing has happened.”

Pei Ye thought about it and realized that what he said made sense—if you didn't realize you had forgotten anything in the past few days, then when those memories returned, it naturally wouldn't surprise you.

The constant coming and going of the mirage always brings some slight discomfort to the world, but thankfully it has finally come to an end.

As the mist gradually dissipated, the shore of Longhu Lake could be seen again in the distance, and the distant figures seemed to be marveling at the cessation of the continuous heavy rain.

The two swordsmen sparring on the lake stopped at the same time. They looked around and saw the small boat. Then they were stunned by the sight of the woman, her face covered in blood. Her long black hair and clean face made her look like a wounded goddess.

But this scene lasted only a moment. A water monkey-like creature emerged from the water, grabbed her arm, and pulled her down, leaving only the small boat adrift, making everything seem like an illusion.

The two looked at each other.

Pei Ye held the woman's forearm as they fell into the mirage, as if returning to their own homeland.

He didn't immediately gain complete control over everything in the mirage, but he could clearly feel that this control was constantly expanding and deepening as he stayed in the mirage.

The mirage seemed to have undergone a reboot.

A nation is renewing itself, and a new ruler needs to familiarize himself with his nation.

Therefore, he had to ask the original crown prince about many things.

"Look." Pei Ye led Li Xizhou to the place where he had just suffered a major injury.

The rift between heaven and earth has been healed, and the place has become empty and quiet. Only the huge and beautiful mermaid palace remains, flanked by towering trees over two hundred feet tall.

The tree had no leaves; its branches were straight and long, crisscrossing in all directions, enormous and dark. And in the shadows deep within these two tall trees, two slender figures, each over ten feet long, emerged, one a tiger's head, the other a rhinoceros horn, coiling among the branches like small snakes.

"How is this going?"

Li Xizhou lowered his head, first pulling his wrist out of his hand, and smiled: "The Water Lord is the gateway to coexistence with the Mirage Realm. As long as the Mirage Realm does not perish, their lives will be a cycle."

"Well."

"They rule over all the scales, will guard your borders, and will instinctively make the mirage realm more expansive and prosperous."

"I see." Pei Ye muttered to himself, raising an eyebrow and looking at them with a gleam in his eyes. "But I wonder how strong these two are..."

The tiger that once possessed a grandeur far surpassing that of the Xuanmen sect, and although it has shrunk considerably, it is still quite imposing and agile. While it cannot be compared to human cultivation levels, it should have no problem moving freely on the water, and it might even be able to visit the palace in a short time...

Li Xizhou glanced at him and immediately understood what he was itching for. He smiled and said, "Congratulations to Lord Pei on gaining two new generals. May you live a long and prosperous life and unify the martial world."

Pei Ye laughed: "You were a princess of the previous dynasty. Now that the dynasty has changed, you should have been killed. But I spared your life because of your quick wit and intelligence. I will keep you by my side for consultation. I hereby appoint you as... a Hanlin scholar..."

"Hanlin Academician"

"Indeed, a Hanlin Academician."

"Yes, thank you for your grace, Your Majesty. However, in stories, princesses from previous dynasties are usually abducted and taken into the harem."

"..."

Pei Ye's heart skipped a beat, and he turned to stare at her, but the woman seemed to have mentioned it casually, her expression indifferent. After speaking, she turned her head to look into the distance, not even meeting the boy's eyes: "It's a pity that there are far fewer scale demons in the Mirage Realm—don't you still have the matter of the Nine Lives?"

(End of this chapter)