Chapter 18: The Initial Meeting with Guo Jing

  Everyone dispersed, leaving only Guo Jing and Ling Zhu Yun standing still. Guo Jing looked at Ling Zhu Yun with a hint of curiosity. Although Ling Zhu Yun was also dressed in Mongolian attire, his pale skin and handsome face were distinctly different from the dark and rough complexion of the Mongolians who had been weathered by the wind and sand. Despite being obtuse, Guo Jing could see that there was something unusual about Ling Zhu Yun.

  Ling Yun didn't dodge or evade, smiling as he locked eyes with Guo Jing. His goal this time was indeed Guo Jing, so naturally there was no need to avoid him anymore.

  Guo Jing looked at him for a while and then muttered out a sentence: "You're not a Mongolian, are you?"

  "Oh?" Ling Mu's eyebrows slightly raised upwards, smiling and asking: "How did you know I'm not Mongolian?"

  Guo Jing scratched his head and said: "Mongolians don't have skin as white as yours, nor are they as handsome."

  "Hehe, kid, you're right. Most Mongolians have thick skin and a rough complexion, unlike me, a handsome man." Ling Mu Yun stroked his face gently, speaking with some self-admiration.

  "Are you not a Mongolian? Then are you a Jin or a Han?" Guo Jing asked, his eyes fixed intently on Ling Zhu, with a hint of expectation in his gaze.

  I am Chinese.

  Rumors had it that Linghu Chong was a Han Chinese, and Guo Jing felt an instant affection for him. With a hint of excitement, he said: "I'm also a Han Chinese, my mother and my seven masters are all Han Chinese, they all grew up in Jiangnan, according to them, it's a place with beautiful scenery... But I was born in Mongolia, from childhood to adulthood, I've never left the grasslands, nor have I been to Jiangnan, and I don't know what kind of beauty it holds..." As he spoke, his voice gradually lowered, obviously stirring up some deep emotions.

  Looking at Guo Jing's performance, thinking of his poor life experience, Ling Mu Yun sighed and patted Guo Jing's shoulder with his hand, comforting him: "Don't worry, you will definitely have the opportunity to go to Jiangnan."

  "Thank you."

  Guo Jing's eyes were slightly red as he looked at Ling Yun and muttered a sentence.

  "By the way, everyone else has left, why are you still here?" Ling Mu Yun asked, not wanting to let Guo Jing's mood continue to sink.

  "Oh, I wanted to stay and practice my martial arts for a while. I'm too stupid, Master taught me the moves but I always end up practicing them poorly, disappointing several Masters." As he spoke, Guo Jing lowered his head again, clearly disheartened by his slow progress in martial arts.

  "Don't be discouraged, there's no difficult task in the world, only people who are willing to put in effort. As long as you persist in your endeavors, nothing is impossible."

  "Uh-huh, you're right, I'll work hard."

  Guo Jing nodded heavily, his face set in determination. He then inserted the golden-hilted and golden-scabbarded short knife given to him by Temujin into his waistband, drew out his long sword, and began practicing his swordplay on the spot, ignoring Ling Zhiyun who was watching from the side.

  This is also the reason why Guo Jing, who grew up on the grasslands since childhood and was not familiar with the rules of the Jianghu. People who practice martial arts have always emphasized the importance of keeping their skills to themselves, and true masters of the Jianghu often regard their own martial arts as a means of survival, and are reluctant to reveal or teach them to outsiders. How could they allow unrelated people to watch while they practice? Only someone like Guo Jing, who grew up on the grasslands since childhood and had no contact with the Jianghu, and was also straightforward by nature, would practice martial arts in front of others without any guard.

  Since Guo Jing didn't mind, Ling Muyun was delighted to watch from the side. It wasn't that he wanted to steal techniques, with the Nine Yin and Nine Yang two great mysterious skills on his body, the shallow skills of the Jiangnan Six Freaks weren't even worth looking at in Ling Muyun's eyes. He wanted to take this opportunity to carefully observe Guo Jing's martial arts level. After all, Guo Jing was the chosen one of this world, with a huge connection to his system task. Wanting to participate in the plot and complete the task, he couldn't avoid entangling himself with Guo Jing, and had to have a clear understanding of his strength.

  Guo Jing's swordsmanship was taught by the last of the Seven Freaks of Jiangnan, Huang Yaoshi's daughter-in-law, Madame Huang Rong. One move is called "Branch Hitting White Ape", where one jumps into mid-air and makes two swift circular motions before striking downwards with the sword, a precise and intricate move in the Yue Maiden Swordplay.

  Guo Jing had put in a lot of effort, but his movements were not light and agile enough. In mid-air, he could only manage to swing his sword in a half-circle, and before he knew it, he was already back on the ground. No matter how many times he tried, he always fell short by half a circle. Occasionally, when he did manage to jump high enough, he would forget to swing his sword in a full circle. After practicing for half a day, Guo Jing still couldn't master this move, "Branch Strike White Ape". Either he wouldn't jump high enough or he wouldn't have time to complete the full circle with his sword. His mind grew more and more anxious, and the more he practiced, the worse it seemed to get. He was drenched in sweat but just couldn't seem to get it right.

  Ling Yun saw this and couldn't help but shake his head secretly. Guo Jing was born with a rough and simple nature, more suitable for taking a straightforward path, but the swordsmanship he was currently practicing emphasized lightness, agility, and clever changes in movement, which fundamentally didn't match Guo Jing's innate abilities. Even if he practiced for a longer time, it would be difficult to achieve success.

  Just then, a sudden horseshoe sound was heard, and Ling Muyun turned his head to look back, only to see that Hua Zhong had returned on horseback. She rode up close, dismounted, and looked at Ling Muyun with a hint of surprise, seemingly wondering how he suddenly appeared out of nowhere. However, her interest in him was clearly far less than her interest in Guo Jing. After glancing at him, she shifted her attention to Guo Jing, ignoring the presence of the stranger, Ling Muyun, and fixedly watched Guo Jing practice his swordplay. Seeing his solemn expression, she advised, "Stop practicing for now, take a rest."

  Guo Jing however showed no gratitude and somewhat impatiently said: "Don't come bother me, I don't have the time to chat with you."

  Hua Yun stopped talking, smiled and gazed at him. After a while, she took out a handkerchief from her bosom, tied two knots on it, threw it to him and said: "Wipe your sweat."

  Guo Jing grunted in response but didn't go to pick it up, letting the handkerchief fall to the ground as he continued practicing his sword.

  At this scene, Ling Yun couldn't help but sigh silently. The fallen flowers have intention, the flowing water has no feeling. Hua Zheng's affection for Guo Jing was obvious even to him, an outsider who had just met them for the first time. Unfortunately, Guo Jing, that fool, didn't notice at all. Perhaps this is fate.

  At this time, Hua Zhen also said: "Just now you begged Father, don't let me marry Du Shi, why?"

  Guo Jing said: "Du Shih is very wicked. In the past, he released a leopard to eat your brother Tuo Lei. If you marry him, he may beat you."

  Hua Yun smiled and said: "If he hits me, you come and help me."

  Guo Jing was taken aback and said: "That... how is that possible?"

  Hua Yun gazed at him and said softly: "If I don't marry Du Shi, then who will I marry?"

  Guo Jing shook his head and said, "I don't know."

  Hua Yun snorted and her face, which had been flushed with excitement, suddenly turned red with anger. "You don't know anything!" she exclaimed.

  Ling Muyun couldn't help but sigh inwardly, these girls on the grassland are really open-minded, and with outsiders present, they express their feelings so directly, without any of the reserve and modesty of Han women. It's as if he didn't exist at all. If not for his vague recollection that something else was supposed to happen next, Ling Muyun would have turned around and left already, the feeling of being a third wheel is really unbearable.

  Just then, a shrill cry echoed from the sky, and Ling Muyun looked up to see the large white eagle that had been lured away by the black eagles flying back. It had chased after the black eagles until now before returning, probably because the group of black eagles had led it to a very distant place. The two small white eagles in the cave on the cliff top saw their kin return and chirped excitedly, as if crying out to the large white eagle.

  Seeing that his lover had lost her life on the cliff, the big white eagle flew back with a mournful cry, like a white cloud sweeping over the cliff, and then flew back again, circling around, its cries filled with sorrow, heart-wrenching to hear.

  Huā Jiàn said to Guō Jìng: "Look at this white eagle, how pitiful it is."

  Guo Jing nodded and said: "Yes, it must be very sad!"

  Just then, the white eagle let out a mournful cry and flew straight up into the clouds. Immediately after, it shot down from the clouds like an arrow and crashed head-on into a large boulder on the cliff face with a loud thud, instantly killing itself and falling beside the body of the other dead white eagle.

  Guo Jing and Huang Rong cried out in unison and jumped up together, frightened for a long time before they could say anything.

  "What is this thing called love in the world, that makes life and death inseparable? The two mandarin ducks flying together from the ends of the earth, how many times have they weathered the cold and heat of winter and summer. Joy and pleasure, parting and sorrow, and among them, there are also foolish boys and girls. You should have something to say, but the vast clouds stretch for thousands of miles, the snow on the mountains at dusk, only a shadow, going towards whom......" As he gazed out at this scene, Ling Mu Yun's mind suddenly conjured up this ancient poem, and he couldn't help but recite it softly.

  Suddenly a loud voice floated from behind: "Good words! Good words! Respectable! Respectable!"

  Three people turned their heads to look back, and saw that it was an old Taoist priest who was coming towards them with big strides. The old Taoist's hair was white as snow but his face was rosy, his topknot was high and neat, and his Taoist robe was spotless. In this windy and sandy place, it was unknown how he could be so clean. He held a dust whisk in his hand, and came towards them with his sleeves fluttering in the wind, looking like an immortal from heaven.

  Ling Muyun saw this old Daoist and his heart couldn't help but stir slightly: "Danyangzi Ma Yu, you've finally arrived!"

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