Chapter One: Past Events Like a Dream

  The snow fell silently, and this scene had been going on for a whole day. The world was stained with a touch of crystal, the cold air was thick, but not far from the streets, there were steaming hot air, and the strong smell of the year was floating in the air. The prosperous Yangzhou city still stood tall on the banks of the Yangtze River. Looking down at the great waves washing away the ancient elegance, looking up at the North Dipper touring the sky. In the late Sui dynasty, Emperor Yang recruited 300,000 laborers to connect the Grand Canal to this place. The story of the emperor's boat trip and granting the surname Yang Liu to the people on the riverbank had been over a hundred years ago, and the world had undergone several changes.

  "Cough, cough", a tall and thin boy walked out of the snow. He was hunched over, constantly coughing, as if he had caught a cold. This place was near the Grand Canal, with docks scattered about. Merchant ships came and went frequently. The boy's eyes quickly landed on an old man by the side of the road.

  The old man was over sixty years old, and like a young man, he was also dressed in tattered clothes. At first glance, it was clear that he was a down-and-out person. The old man pushed an iron stove, from which hot air burst out from time to time. In this snowy weather, the steaming mist could be seen from far away.

  The old man also saw him at this time, and smiled jokingly: "Little Feng, how are you? Is there any work today? Don't worry, I had a good business today, your big meal is on me."

  The young man nicknamed Little Wind smiled awkwardly. He was now without a family or a home, like a lonely ghost. Usually, he barely managed to scrape together a living by doing odd jobs on the docks. Most of the time, the boat owners would reject him because of his weakness and lack of strength, unwilling to give him work. When things got really tough, he even had to beg for help from passersby. Fortunately, at that time, society was open-minded and prosperous, with many kind-hearted people around, so he didn't starve to death. This pancake vendor sympathized with him and often gave him pancakes to eat; over time, the two became close friends despite their age difference.

  The awkward expression on the young man's face gradually faded, and he had a few spirits, saying: "I am a random person, how can I let my brother pay every time? This time I brought enough silver." As he spoke, he reached into his chest and pulled out... only one copper coin. Random Wind was already thinly dressed, and when the cold wind blew and the snow water soaked in, he immediately let out a big sneeze.

  His face full of distrust, he still wanted to take out some more "silver". The old man grasped his hand and skillfully took down two baked buns from the wall of the stove, quickly wrapped them in animal skin paper, and stuffed them into his bosom. He said: "What's our relationship, if we can't find it then forget about it, this time I originally said I'd treat you anyway. Ah, what a pity, brother, I'm incompetent, so I can only invite you to eat some baked buns."

  The hot pancake was placed on my chest, warm and touching. The cold winter of Sanjiu, the flying snow all over the sky, couldn't reduce this warmth. My nose suddenly turned sour with the wind, and I almost cried.

  Since he was young, no one had been so kind to him since his parents passed away. That long-lost feeling wrapped around him, and he didn't know what to say, could only thank him and turned back into the snowy wind.

  The figure in the distance gradually disappeared into the heavy snow, bit by bit, until it was gone. The old man gathered up his scattered belongings, muttering to himself: "Time to close up shop, business is done..."

  "Qing Xuan is in charge of teaching, yet he has nothing better to do than sell pancakes in the mortal world? Doesn't he care about anything that happens in Kunlun?"

  The old man raised his head, moving slowly. In that brief moment, a mysterious green light seemed to flash across the old man's weathered face. The old man's eyes were calm and waveless, as deep as the starry sky. He didn't look like an ordinary old man at all.

  An old man stood in front of a young Taoist. Although his face was tender, it was full of thickness, with a temperament that was introverted and gentle like spring breeze. If you pay close attention, you can find that the snowflakes seem to have grown eyes, and when they approach him, they slant away three inches. It looks harmonious, but it's really strange.

  The old man, however, didn't find it strange. In the depths of his eyes, a sudden spark of divine light flashed out. He smiled and said: "All things in the world are within the Tao. Ah, Brother Yiyun, when we reach our realm, can there still be anything that's hard to let go of?"

  Also smiling, the atmosphere around him became warm. He said: "Brother Dao's words are indeed correct, but with the 300-year period approaching, the same theory will be put to the test soon, I don't know if brother has made any preparations? According to legend, the Empty Heart Old Monk is already capable of breaking through the Half-Immortal barrier. Although it may not be true, it's also not something to be underestimated. Moreover, they still have the Demon Sect assisting them. This Heavenly Book, I wonder if it can still be kept?"

  Qing Xuan's eyes were slightly closed, and a few wisps of ethereal energy inadvertently escaped. Suddenly opening them wide, he only felt the surrounding light flash once, and this side of the sky had already been isolated by Qing Xuan's Taoist magic. "No harm done, my humble way's 'Heaven Concealing Palm' has made some small progress." Qing Xuan said calmly, his tone flat and even. However, his face suddenly gained a few wisps of vitality. He looked like he had the hair of an old man but the face of a child, with a sense of rejuvenation.

  He was also shocked in his heart and couldn't figure out this Kunlun School Master. But when he heard that he had already practiced the Sky-Covering Palm, he let out a light sigh in his heart, and this time's debate on Taoism probably wouldn't have any suspense anymore.

  "Who was that young man just now? Why didn't you reveal your identity, brother?"

  "There's no need for that; this vast world will ultimately still require him to understand it himself." Qing Xuan said, her eyes like water.

  The light voice couldn't penetrate the bleak north wind no matter what, intermittent, when you wanted to listen, everything was already gone.

  With the wind in his arms, holding a baked cake, he couldn't help but feel some excitement, and his footsteps quickened. As it was already near dusk, various shops were closing up. Although the snow was heavy, there was still a faint glow of sunset on the horizon. On the busy streets, who would notice him?

  "Ouch, that hurts!" With a moan, he continued walking forward, and indeed bumped into someone else.

  The person who was hit also let out a "ouch". Then came an "huh" of surprise. Only after hearing the suspicious sound did he look up, and as soon as he saw a face, his heart skipped a beat.

  The person who was hit was also a young man, about the same age as Su Feng. He wore white clothes and looked very elegant. Even in this cold winter, he still held a folding fan in his hand and had a long sword at his waist, it's unknown whether it was for decoration or if he really knew how to use it. This person, Su Feng had known since childhood, his name was Liu Jin, the young master of the Liu family in Yangzhou City.

  In the past, the Su and Liu families were prominent families in Yangzhou. However, for some reason, Su Feng's parents suddenly died. The majority of the Su family members scattered, and their wealth disappeared. From then on, there was no longer a force in Yangzhou that could rival the Liu family. Whenever Su Feng encountered someone from the Liu family while drifting around Yangzhou, they would retreat three houses away. Although he had adapted to his miserable life, he couldn't let go of that bit of dignity.

  "I must be blind to think that this is not the young master of the Rong family. How could he have fallen to such a state?" Liu Jin sneered, his face full of mockery. As he spoke, he waved his right hand and made a gesture. The two house servants immediately understood, one on each side, forming a three-sided encirclement with Rong Feng.

  Looking at the two men, they were all tall and strong, with muscles bulging on their arms, veins exposed, and a fierce glint in their eyes. They were obviously skilled fighters. Ran Feng couldn't help but take a step back: "What do you want to do?"

  "What's going on?" Liu Jin hummed, "You got my white clothes dirty, are you just going to leave like that? With your family's wealth and influence, I suppose the cost of a piece of clothing is negligible to Master Rong."

  "I... I don't have any money..." Liu looked at his chest and indeed there was a black stain, it seemed he had gotten it on himself. His heart grew even more panicked, and he took another step back.

  "Short of money?" Liu Jin's face turned fierce, where was the elegance? "No money and still so arrogant?" As he spoke, he kicked Rang Feng in the chest with a loud thud. The kick was swift and ruthless, and as soon as Rang Feng saw it coming, he felt his chest shudder violently and himself flying out.

  What's even stranger is that Random Wind vaguely felt that the place where his chest was kicked seemed to have some kind of airflow drilling inward nonstop. Then, it wandered around the five internal organs, and suddenly, his heart ached violently, and as soon as he opened his mouth, a mouthful of fresh blood spurted out. The blood splattered onto the snowy ground, forming a bright red patch that was dazzling to the eyes. Random Wind stood there blankly, staring at it, with waves of anger surging in his heart one after another. However, immediately afterwards, he let out a sigh of sorrow - he could be said to have no strength to truss up a chicken, and all he could do was dodge or endure. He clenched his fists but refused to compromise.

  Liu Jin's kick wasn't heavy, but he used a bit of internal force, so the power was this great. Watching Xun Feng struggle to get up, he had never felt so refreshing in his heart, and with one swift motion, he rushed over and lifted Xun Feng up again. He raised his hand and threw another punch.

  He was caught off guard and had no room to dodge, this punch was unavoidable. Just then, "Young Master!" a loud shout came over.

  Liu Jin was startled and stopped his fist in front of Feng Mian. Liu Jin couldn't help but get a little angry, turned his head and shouted, "Who is it?!"

  A middle-aged man walked over step by step, clasped his fists in greeting to Liu Jin, and said: "Young master, the mistress has called you back for dinner. The old master is also a bit angry, it's better if you hurry back to the mansion." He faced Liu Jin, but his eyes glanced at Sui Feng, who saw his face and felt as if he had seen him somewhere before, yet couldn't quite recall where.

  Liu Jin took a deep breath and glared fiercely at the middle-aged man. After a long while, he said, "Wang Wu Shi, don't casually use my parents to pressure me. You should remember that you are just a martial artist!" Having said that, Liu Jin gave a signal with his eyes to the two house servants beside him and said resentfully, "Return to the manor!"

  Liu Jin let go of the two family servants and walked away. As they gradually disappeared into the distance, Sui Feng looked at the middle-aged man with some confusion, his mind only having a vague and unclear memory fragment.

  "Who are you?" Feng was stunned, muttering to himself: "Wang Wu Shi, Wang Wu Shi..." "Are you Uncle Changming?" After he finished speaking, he saw that the originally tall and majestic middle-aged man trembled all over, as if he had become even more desolate.

  "Xiao Feng has suffered for many years. It's my fault, Uncle Changming didn't take good care of you, I owe it to your father. But this isn't a place to talk, come on, let's go to my place and talk." Wang Changming looked around cautiously, still feeling not quite safe.

  Led by Chang Ming, they left the place with a few twists and turns. From the bustling area near the canal to the relatively sparse Dongcheng district.

  The snow in the sky is still so big, but it can't cover up the past that has disappeared. The lanterns are lit, and the night market begins. As I walk on the road, I see the prosperity of Chunfeng Sanli. With the wind, I feel very real, yet also very illusory. Like a dream, yet not a dream, because dreams don't have such realistic pain.

  In front of me is a two-story pavilion, with carved wooden beams and rafters. Although it's not particularly tall, it has a special flavor. Such classic style, such charm, Yangzhou may not be Jiangnan, but it has its own unique flavor.

  Changming opened the door and let the wind in. The interior was also elegant. Four corners were placed with high candles, and there were pots of orchids by the window, faintly fragrant, and deeply sniffed with the wind. The scent was absorbed into his chest, and the original lingering pain was alleviated a bit.

  Wang Changming looked at Sui Feng's pale face and asked, "Are you okay? Liu Jin's martial arts skills are not ordinary, although he didn't use his full strength, it wasn't light either. Come, let me take a look." He then pulled up Sui Feng's hand and placed three fingers on his wrist, which was the traditional way of taking one's pulse. Wang Changming only had a rough understanding of medicine and could only barely feel the pulse at the inch, guan, and chi points.

  After a long while, Changming took a deep breath. "What's wrong, Uncle Changming? Is something not right?" Changming hesitated for a moment before speaking slowly: "To say that nothing is wrong would be incorrect. He used internal force in that one kick. Even if it wasn't heavy, it should have had some effect on your inner organs. Looking at your pulse, it's still strong and vigorous, completely unlike someone who's been injured. What's even stranger is that the internal force he left inside you has silently disappeared. You don't know martial arts, so this is indeed a bit strange. However, there's no great harm done. Rest for now, I'll go brew a pot of tea for you."

  He nodded slightly as he glanced around the room. The interior was so elegant, it didn't seem like Changming's style at all. As he was sizing up the room, he suddenly noticed a strange painting on the wall. The entire painting was divided into sixty-four sections, each with a line of tiny characters underneath, such as "Ze water accumulates and overflows to become a disaster, sweeping across the sky." Su Feng found it somewhat intriguing, those were all phrases from the I Ching, which he had studied since childhood, but these strange diagrams he was seeing for the first time. Changming went to brew tea, boiling water required skill, so Su Feng took the opportunity to examine the strange diagrams and characters carefully.

  Suí Fēng was extraordinary from a young age, able to roughly memorize all sorts of books and poems after just one read. It's strange to say, but the "I Ching" is originally abstruse and difficult to understand, and the hexagrams are even more incomprehensible, yet Suí Fēng remembered them deeply after reading through them once, and also had a kind of inexplicable sense of familiarity.

  Just as he was about to enter a state of meditation, Changming walked over with a pot of clear tea. "This is the hexagram from the I Ching, it's very difficult to understand." Changming said with a smile.

  "Let's have a cup of tea first, I have something important to tell you." Changming smiled dryly, his expression suddenly turned cold, and his voice was tinged with sadness.