Becoming a Fox Spirit from Under One Person.

"The sword is the man, the man is the sword; the sword is lost, the man dies"—Liuyun Sword.

Legend has it that during the Taikang era of the Western Jin Dynasty, a hermit named "Yunyouzi" lived in seclusion on Bai'e Ridge in Huangshan. He observed that the clouds and mist gathered and dispersed unpredictably, changing shape with the wind without hindrance. He then realized the principle that "the sword is like flowing clouds, going with the flow and never going against it," and thus named his sword school "Liuyun" (Flowing Clouds).

Among the many schools of martial arts masters, the Flowing Cloud Sword School is a renowned and prestigious one.

Unfortunately, due to the war and the "Jiashen Rebellion", this school was almost wiped out. Among the later successors, there was only one, Yuan Shixiao, who held a broken piece of iron.

"Young man, are you out there gaining experience?" Chen Ruoan asked.

"Forge your sword heart."

Where are you going?

"West side."

Lin Zifeng's answers are always simple and straightforward, leaving little room for conversation.

"Okay, see you later."

As the wind subsided, the fox opened its mouth and exhaled a gust of demonic wind, sending the five ghosts leaping upwards to continue their journey towards the Hunan and Hubei region.

Lin Zifeng looked up at the fox's shadow disappearing into the horizon, then clenched his hands, feeling as if he had missed out on a furry touch. He shook his head and headed west as well.

···

Upon reaching the Nankang region, Chen Ruoan noticed a bustling market ahead.

Since the fighting started in the Taishan area, the market has been closed, and the fox hasn't experienced such human warmth for a long time.

Chen Ruoan lowered his body, letting the five ghosts hold up an umbrella to lightly shield him from the shadows, and then stepped on the low walls and eaves of the street, moving nimbly all the way, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

As they approached a calligraphy and painting stall, Zhou Kang, the Ghost Little Five under the umbrella, suddenly brightened up and whispered, "Master, I want to go down and take a look."

Chen Ruoan nodded in agreement, and the ghost floated down to the ground, holding the umbrella steadily for the fox. The ghost and the fox stood in front of the deserted stall.

Zhou Kang leaned closer to examine it closely, his fingertips lightly touching the canvas, full of inquiry: "A painting I've never seen before."

Chen Ruoan explained, "These are Western oil paintings. The stall owner was probably heading south to Guangzhou and came across this market, so he decided to try his luck."

Clearly, the stall owner's hopes were dashed; there was no market for Western oil paintings in this small town.

Zhou Kangxi loves painting and understands it well. Staring at several inferior paintings, he muttered, "These oil paintings have a more vivid visual impact, but unfortunately they lack some of the freehand style. Compared with traditional Chinese paintings, they are ultimately lacking in charm."

Chen Ruoan continued, "Traditional Chinese painting is more of a 'painting of the heart,' depicting one's state of mind and artistic conception. It uses simplicity to control complexity, valuing blank space as beauty, and integrating poetry, calligraphy, painting, and seal carving. Oil painting, on the other hand, is a 'painting of the eye,' using color, light and shadow, and texture to create a unique visual experience. There is no superiority or inferiority between the two; they simply differ in some cultural and aesthetic concepts."

Xiao Wu nodded thoughtfully, but before he could respond, a familiar and brief voice came from beside him.

"You understand oil painting?"

Lin Zifeng stood behind him, his clothes on the back of his neck soaked with sweat, leaving dark stains, but he kept his back straight, suppressed his breathing, and pretended to be calm.

"Ah... I don't understand, why am I selling paintings?" The stall owner looked at the newcomer suspiciously. "Are you buying or not?"

The oil-paper umbrella concealed the fox's form, making it undetectable to the stall owner. He only felt gusts of cold wind blowing past him before the man carrying the long object disappeared.

"Hey, why are you asking questions if you're not buying anything? And you say I don't understand painting? What a weirdo."

···

The fox seems to have been harassed.

When asked several times why Lin Zifeng had followed him, the disciple of Liuyun Sword only glanced at him indifferently and casually uttered two words: "On the way."

The depletion of the Wind Control and Soul Control abilities began to cause trouble, so Chen Ruoan, too lazy to get entangled in it, found a City God Temple outside Nankang City to stay in.

The temple was deserted, and the fox curled up in a ball, resting in a corner of a pile of dry grass.

Lin Zifeng then stood guard at the temple entrance steps, quietly watching the clouds drift and listening to the wind rustling through the forest. Whenever he had an epiphany, he would draw his sword by the roadside and practice a few sword moves.

The so-called flowing clouds are clouds that drift with the wind and are unpredictable. Therefore, the mental technique of the Flowing Cloud Sword requires practitioners to breathe like flowing clouds, with their breath unobstructed, their minds free of attachments, and to be able to discern the changes in the cloud formations.

Watching the clouds at dawn and listening to the wind at night are daily routines for disciples within the sect.

Hearing the sound of swords, Chen Ruoan would jump onto the windowsill to watch, which relieved a lot of his boredom.

"You know about swords?" Lin Zifeng noticed the fox peeking at him.

"don't know."

"Want to learn?"

"Can I learn it?"

"Basic sword moves can be learned by outsiders. You are a fox, so you don't need to worry about the rules of the sect."

Chen Ruoan stared at Lin Zifeng, puzzled, unable to fathom the man's intention in following him all this way.

But then I thought, I've been wandering the martial world for so long, and I'm only relying on magic and Zhang Zhiwei's summoning magic to get by. I don't even have a proper martial arts move. What kind of talk is that?

Being proficient in magic but ignorant of martial arts is too unbalanced; being unbalanced is not good.

The thought had barely formed in his mind when Chen Ruoan's figure blurred, the phantom of the Xuanhu disappeared, and he transformed into a handsome young man. He then picked up the oil-paper umbrella beside him and used it as a longsword for the time being.

But when Lin Zifeng saw the fox transform into human form, he stared at it for a while, but then became unhappy.

"Change back."

"what?"

"I'll make you turn back."

The fox was displeased by such rude and foolish words: "I ask you, can a fox's paws hold a sword?"

"No..." Lin Zifeng fell into deep thought.

"What exactly do you want? If you don't tell me, I can guarantee that once I ride the wind, you won't be able to catch me even if you use dozens of moves of the Sword Sweeping Style."

Lin Zifeng sheathed his sword, remained silent for a long time, and then spoke a long speech, which was quite unusual for him.

"I plan to study painting in the future. For me, beauty is a feeling, and I like to spread this feeling on plain paper. Foxes that are intelligent are more profound and shrewd than ordinary foxes, which is rare."

To put it simply, Lin Zifeng is a sucker for good looks; he likes things that look nice.

"Then why not in human form?"

"Yes, most of the fellow disciples and senior sisters in the sect are outstanding in appearance. I've almost gotten used to it by practicing writing."

Damn it, is this the confidence that the "looks-based faction" has to speak?

Chen Ruoan breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, it turns out they wanted a fox as a model. Otherwise, if they hadn't been more explicit, I would have thought they were being targeted by that damned, hardcore Fu Rui fanatic.

Chapter 56 Qingfeng Temple

A lone fox must always be careful when it comes to its own safety. Chen Ruoan knows that he is a treasure trove, and whether it is a hunter, a Fury, or a wizard, they will all be envious and covetous of him.

"We'll talk about it once you've prepared your tools," Chen Ruoan replied.

It's just having someone draw the image on paper; it's harmless.

"Thank you. Let me demonstrate a few sword moves for you to watch."

Lin Zifeng drew his sword and unleashed the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique. In an instant, the sword light flowed lightly like a stream, the sword's momentum alternating between slow and fast, rising and falling without the slightest hesitation, each move swift and elegant.

Chen Ruoan stood to the side, not gesturing with his fox paws, but quietly observing, silently engraving those clearest starting stances and turning moves into his mind.

After resting, the fox and the human decided to travel together for the time being.

After rounding a bend in the mountain, Chen Ruoan saw two disheveled women supporting each other, stumbling and running wildly eastward.

The younger one had a vacant look in his eyes and seemed mentally confused. He kept muttering incoherently, repeatedly uttering words like "blood pill" and "dregs of medicine," which made people's hearts tighten.

Chen Ruoan and Lin Zifeng stopped in their tracks and looked back in confusion. They only slowly looked away when the two women's staggering figures gradually disappeared into the woods.

"Something happened?" Lin Zifeng asked.

“In today’s world, there are no constraints on extraordinary people, and each region relies entirely on righteous people to maintain order, which inevitably leads to many evil practitioners slipping through the net.”

"Kill them if you encounter them, and temper your sword heart."

"No problem."

The man and the fox continued along the mountain path until they reached a gentle slope surrounded by ancient pines.

There is a Taoist temple with green tiles hidden in the woods. The three characters "Qingfeng Temple" are written in clerical script on the lintel. The wooden couplets on both sides are engraved with "Qingfeng cleanses worldly thoughts, the Taoist temple contains a tranquil mind". The copper bells on the eaves sway gently, making a soft and clear sound, which is quite leisurely.

"This Taoist temple has a bad name," Chen Ruoan said for no apparent reason.

"It is indeed a very common name for a temple."

As the fox was watching, two figures walked out of the temple gate.

They were a middle-aged couple.

The couple wore genuine smiles; the woman carried a cloth bag, and the man had a small cloth jacket draped over his shoulder. They walked with light and quick steps.

Chen Ruoan stepped forward and asked with a smile, "You two seem so happy. Is it because the gods and spirits in this temple are exceptionally efficacious?"

"Oh my, the fox has spoken! Fox spirit, fox spirit!" The two bowed, but waved their hands repeatedly.

"The fox spirit is mistaken. There is no benevolent deity like you in this temple." The man spoke with a slight accent, his tone honest and sincere, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"There are no immortals or gods, it's just that the old Taoist priest in the temple is kind-hearted."

The woman chimed in, "These days there's been a great famine, and wars are raging everywhere. We're starving, and we can barely feed our two kids. We were so worried when the Taoist priest at the temple heard about it and offered to take a few of us as his disciples. He'll provide food and lodging and even teach us to read. It's a huge relief for us."

The fox laughed and said, "Judging by such a kind heart, he must be a highly accomplished master."

"The fox spirit is right." The two nodded in agreement and then took their leave.

Lin Zifeng raised his hand and touched his chapped lips, his Adam's apple bobbing dryly.

I've been chasing the fox using the "Jumping Bead" swinging sword technique of the Flowing Cloud Sword, and haven't had a proper drink of water. I'm really thirsty.

He glanced at the copper bells on the eaves of Qingfeng Temple, then turned to Chen Ruoan and said, "Since the abbot is kind-hearted, I suppose he would be willing to give us a few bowls of water."

After saying that, he walked towards the gate and knocked a few times.

The door creaked open a crack, and a boy with his hair in a topknot peeked out, his face beaming with a clean smile.

"What can I do for you, benefactor?"

"May I have a bowl of water?"

The boy blinked, not daring to let them pass easily, when a hoarse voice came from deep inside the temple.