Joy of Life

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

After the wheelchair entered the manor of the Master of the City, the streets outside remained absolutely quiet. Although the Dongyi people rose from beneath the eaves, no one left or spoke. They just looked in the direction of the manor with surprise and unease. Countless gazes were gathered there. They didn’t know what was happening inside. They didn’t know why the sword saint had gone into the manor. Was it to kill?

Regardless of whose wagon the Great Grandmaster decided to tie Dongyi to, it was his decision. All of Dongyi, as well as the vassal states around them, had to comply with his decision.

Although this Great Grandmaster was about to die, he still would not allow anyone in his city to have any feelings of disloyalty, collude with the disciples of the Hut to try and arrogantly make his decision for him, or decide the direction of Dongyi and the lives and deaths of the countless people in it.

This was the extent of a god’s work. No mortal could interfere, including the first disciple of the Sword Hut and the Master of the City, who maintained the city’s day-to-day running.

The Master of the City was the last distant relative in a remote and desolate place that Sigu Jian could find after he massacred his entire clan.

Those who opposed him died without question. This was the so-called will of a Grandmaster. This did not need to be specially emphasized. Instead, it was a very natural bottom line. Sigu Jian had brought Fan Xian here so he could better understand.

After the little Emperor stepped into the manor, her face became extremely pale. It was almost translucent. Her eyes contained a glimmer of disappointment and horror that could not be wiped away. She knew what Sigu Jian wanted to do.

The Northern Qi’s largest support within Dongyi, other than Yun Zhilan, were the people inside the manor of the Master of the City. The little Emperor had hoped these two factions would help her convince Sigu Jian and have Dongyi be far removed from the Qing Kingdom’s control.

If Sigu Jian was going to massacre the manor, it demonstrated his attitude. The little Emperor felt slightly light-headed. She bit down hard on her lower lip, standing silent behind the wheelchair.

Fan Xian glanced at her calmly. Seeing the deathly paleness of her face, his heart jumped slightly. He stretched out a hand to pat her shoulder, expressing his consolation. This was not a consolation from a victor to a loser. However, his heart was also hurting from the sword intent of the powerful person in the wheelchair. His eyelids fluttered involuntarily.

…

…

After Sigu Jian entered the manor, the expression in his eyes gradually became indifferent and removed of all emotion. There wasn’t even a trace of coldness to be seen.

A few people knelt down in front of the second door to the manor and welcomed the arrival of the sword saint with fear and trepidation. They lowered their heads and kowtowed.

With this kowtow, their heads fell down like ripe autumn fruit breaking from branches, rolling smoothly across the ground.

There was an extremely flat and smooth opening on these people’s necks. It was as if it had been cut through by an extremely sharp sword.

However, sitting in the wheelchair, Sigu Jian had no sword in his hand.

The little Emperor stared at the rolling heads on the ground. Her face grew paler and paler. Even her tightly pressed lips had become white.

Fan Xian’s hand tightened slightly against the wheelchair. Tendons faintly appeared. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead. He knew Sigu Jian was here to kill and teach him how to kill. He still had not thought that this Great Grandmaster only had to think to remove these people’s lives from existence.

The heads rolled toward the side, leaving behind a trail of blood. It ran into a moss-covered corner and stopped. Fan Xian’s mouth was slightly dry. He unconsciously wanted to stop Sigu Jian’s following actions, so he exerted his strength and tried to keep the wheelchair below the stone steps.

If the manor of the Master of the City was massacred, it would remove any opposition in Dongyi for an agreement between the Qing Kingdom and Dongyi. Even those disciples of the Sword Hut who did not approve of Sigu Jian’s decision would, because of this blood, newly understand their master’s heartlessness and strength.

Fan Xian still did not want to use such methods. He was not an overly sentimental person, but he the Master of the Manor had never been a major obstacle. As long as Sigu Jian gave his consent, there were many ways in which this problem could be resolved.

He didn’t think Sigu Jian would use the simplest and most violent method to resolve it.

At some point, the wheelchair had already moved up the stone steps and was heading into the depths of the manor.

Fan Xian and the little Emperor’s hands were still on the wheelchair. Their hands began to tremble more and more. Their faces became paler because they saw more blood and bodies falling on either side of the wheelchair.

Finally, someone summoned the courage to pull out their sword. The sword broke into two pieces. Someone screamed as they flew out. Their waist snapped in half. Many more people stared with shock at the god of killing in the wheelchair. Their legs shook. They were completely unable to move. They thought of the legend from many years ago, the night the Great Grandmaster in the wheelchair came into the manor with a sword. The next day, not a single living person could be found in the manor.

After many years, Sigu Jian came into the manor again. This time, he didn’t have a sword in his hand. Somehow, the entire manor was still mournfully enveloped in a thick stench of blood.

Fan Xian’s face became paler. The Tyrannical zhenqi in his body had already been raised to the extreme. The moment it first began to seep out of his body, it was shattered into strands by the pressure of the murderous aura that filled the space between the heaven and earth. Shattering into pieces, it dissipated in a flash. It was impossible to gather it together.

The little Emperor’s body trembled. She was unable to make any movements. She had to put her hands on the wheelchair to steady her body. Even though she was a powerful female Emperor, seeing these countless heads and broken bodies flying through the air, she was assaulted by the stench of blood and killing.

Sigu Jian’s face was even paler than the two young people’s. It was a completely illogical white. It was as if all of the blood in his body had flowed to some location so that it could change into a piercing sword qi and a devastating murderous aura, scattering outward.

Fan Xian and the little Emperor seemed to have completely lost control of their bodies. Passively, they followed this life-stealing wheelchair as it rolled through the manor. The powerful aura emanating from Sigu Jian’s body completely controlled all of the minute movements around them.

The little Emperor had no strength to resist, so her reaction was weaker. Fan Xian forcefully gathered his focus, wanting to oppose the cold murderous intent that made him feel uncomfortable and even a bit disgusted. However, it was like being struck endlessly with a heavy hammer. Each strike shook his spirit.

A strand of blood seeped out from the corner of his lips. A hopeless sorrow flashed through his eyes. Lowering his eyelids slightly, he no longer looked at everything happening inside the manor. He gave up stopping Sigu Jian’s intention to kill. He didn’t have the power. He was also not willing to anger this Great Grandmaster, who had already sunk into a crazed condition, because he pitied the innocent servants in the manor. He knew it would sink him into endless danger.

He lowered his eyes lids. Unfortunately, not looking does not mean not knowing, particularly since this was Sigu Jian’s last lesson for him.

Fan Xian had already relaxed his mind. He no longer oppose the sword intent filling the manor. Thus, he could sense any small change in aura present with increasing clarity. He also obtained a deeper level of understanding of the aura emanating from the Great Grandmaster’s body.

This aura made him furrow his brows. He loathed his aura. Not only did this aura carry the stench of blood, but there was not an iota of affection within it. There was only indifference, a lofty and disdainful indifference. It was an indifference that regarded life as nothing.

It was if before Sigu Jian’s eyes and intentions, not one creature in the world was worth treasuring. Anyone could be viewed as a pig or dog.

Fan Xian did not understand. This Great Grandmaster was someone who clearly had great affection for Dongyi. Immediately after, Fan Xian sensed the realm that the aura represented. It was willpower.

Sigu Jian’s willpower controlled everything around the wheelchair valiantly, determinedly, and without compromise, virtues, standards, or benevolence between heaven and earth. In front of this powerful and absolute willpower, they all became bubbles and scattered in all directions.

Fan Xian abruptly raised his head and stretched out a hand to support the little Emperor, who was on the verge of collapse under the pressure. His eyes calmly followed Sigu Jian’s gaze and looked into the manor. He had experienced this realm. Unconsciously, he was also slightly afraid of this realm.

…

…

There were originally no Great Grandmasters in the world. Four strange creatures were able to break through human’s natural limits and stand between heaven and earth through their comprehension of the world and their own experiences. The four Great Grandmasters were set on completely different paths to their breakthroughs.

It was clear that the Qing Emperor had taken the exceedingly true way of breaking into the realm of a Great Grandmaster. Although he had become a useless person with his meridians shattered, he had turned extreme sorrow into joy. Without the limitations of the meridians, the truth in his body expanded without restriction. Using a difficult method, he broke through the limits that nature had created for the human body.

Without question, this was the most valiant method. Fan Xian would not dare to learn it, nor did he have anywhere to go learn it.

Sigu Jian’s path was not the same. Ever since his childhood, he had accumulated too much gloom, oppression, and an impulse to slaughter. After massacring his clan, he formed a powerful state of mind from within the stench of blood. In the instant he severed his emotions, he experienced a willpower that was not moved by outside influences. Using killing and indifference, he began to look at that line in the sky with cold eyes and easily tore it apart.

On the final set of stone steps in the manor, there stood a line of people. The Master of Dongyi wore a beautiful clan outfit. His face was deathly pale. Along with those closest to him, they stood in a line and waited for the sword saint’s arrival. He had gathered his most powerful force, but he knew that it could do nothing to stop a Great Grandmaster killing people.

Fan Xian’s hands were on the back of the wheelchair. He did not notice the silence on the stone steps or gradually fading wretched cries. He was sunk in a dazed condition. He had finally experienced Sigu Jian’s Great Grandmaster realm but realized that the method to seek out this realm was perhaps something he could never do.

Each grass, rock, flower, and tree in the world had their own reason for existing. Each person was unique. In order to break into a realm, to touch the realm of a Grandmaster, one would have to seek out a method that truly belonged to them.

Sigu Jian suddenly began to cough. He coughed until his small frame began to shake. The hand Fan Xian had placed on the wheelchair began to tremble again.

Seeing this, the manor aces lined up on the stone steps dissolved into black shadows. Splitting into seven directions, they leapt toward the wheelchair like diving eagles.

The cough seemed to be an opportunity, a signal. These aces did not hesitate to explode into action. However, there was no joy in their hearts. The people of Dongyi, including the warriors that practiced the sword by the seashore, were all used to the sword saint being undefeatable. After living for decades under his godly care, no one thought they would be the one to kill a god.

But, they still had to carry out the last attack. After all, the sword saint coughed. Perhaps it was an opportunity. Or, perhaps it wasn’t. Since they were going to die in the end, to be able to die by a Great Grandmaster’s hand would be some kind of honor.

Before the shadows even arrived, a powerful wind preceded them. The warriors did not focus their targets on the two young people behind the wheelchair. They could see that the two young people were sunk in some kind of mental trap from which they could not extricate themselves.

Fan Xian felt that if he was faced with these aces and their most powerful strike before their deaths, he would not be able to counter it.

Sigu Jian was still curled up in the wheelchair coughing. His only remaining hand was covering his mouth. He had no sword at his side.

He waved his hand. A sword on the ground moved quickly, like a flash of lightning, to his steady hand.

Sigu Jian waved the sword. His moves were not very integrated. It was as if seven mountain peaks suddenly had their outer layer of trees removed and exposed the strange, prominent, and rugged rocks below to pierce seven great holes in the sky.

Faced with the attack of the manor’s last seven aces, Sigu Jian casually swung out his sword and returned the strike with indifferent and blood devouring willpower. In the same instant, he struck out four times in seven directions.

This was already a strike that surpassed the mortal realm. It contained a power that only pushed forward. Hidden behind it was an ultimate willpower that surpassed its aura. It was unaffected because of indifference and tranquil through blood devouring.

The four strikes pierced through the seven people. The seven aces abruptly fell to the ground silently.

Sigu Jian shook his arm. The common steel sword left his hand, piercing straight through the chest of the Master of Dongyi, sinking to the hilt.

After Sigu Jian entered the manor, the Master of Dongyi did not make one word of explanation or give one sigh. He only calmly watched the scene in front of him and waited for his death to arrive. He knew that if his distant uncle had personally come out of the Hut, then there was only death waiting for him. As a crazed Great Grandmaster, a blood-devouring sword saint, a heartless creature who had massacred his own clan, he had not a shred of affection for the Master of the City.

The Master of the City coughed up blood. He felt his life ebbing away. Tears began to roll down his face. In the moment before his death, there was perhaps a great deal of dissatisfaction and resentment in his heart, like the resentment the Qing Emperor had felt many years ago. These Great Grandmasters should not exist in this world.

This world was too illogical.

Fan Xian carefully watched Sigu Jian’s movements. This was the first time Sigu Jian had truly acted after entering the manor with a sword in his hand. His gaze was sharp. He caught the end of the method of the four swords and the traces of his movements. He was completely astonished.

This was the true Sigu Sword. Like a bird in the sky and a fish in water, between action and inaction, there was no warning. He only struck out with his intentions. It was far more than just focusing in one direction. One glance could bring down a city. Two could bring down a country. After drawing a sword, Sigu Jian’s heart was blank [JW1]. There were none who came before him. There would be none that would come after.

…

…

In Suzhou, Ye Liuyun had once sliced a building in half in one strike. That day, Fan Xian had thought that the peak of sword skill was no more than that. However, seeing Sigu Jian strike, only now did he know that for a killing weapon such as a sword, the most powerful symbol of it was the connection between the sword and intention. In this world, there was no faster way to express something than through intention. Where the intention was, the tip of the sword would also be there.

To be able to cultivate a sense against the natural order should not exist in sword techniques in the world. Even those who used the sword would feel a sliver of shock. Even sword practitioners themselves might not know how they had used such a sword technique. After a strike, the swordsman held a sword dripping with blood, surrounded by an open wilderness and a blankness.

The truth of the Sigu Sword, in the end, was still a blank and dazed intention.

Fan Xian’s hand still held the little Emperor’s arm, but he could not stop shaking. What a happy or painful matter it was to experience such a sword technique.

On an unknown tree beside the manor, a trembling bird had been peeping for a long time. Finally, it could no longer endure the willpower that filled space between heaven and earth. It gave a lonely cry and flew away.

Sigu Jian’s eyes were filled with indifference. There was blood on the corner of his lips that he had coughed up. His face was terrifyingly pale. His small body was completely curled in the wheelchair. Of the two young people behind him, one was dazed and the other stern. Bodies and blood were by their sides. Fan Xian lowered his head. A strange thought welled in his heart. He seemed to be able to sense that the Great Grandmaster in the wheelchair had reached the end of his life.

In the end, he had still drawn a sword. Although these four strikes had been elegant and grim, compared to his attack on Dong Mountain three years ago when he had killed a hundred Tiger Guards with one blow, the Sigu Jian today was clearly much weaker.

The body of the Master of Dongyi slowly knelt down in front of the wheelchair as if expressing its allegiance for the last time.

Fan Xian abruptly raised his head and watched with shock as a black-clothed man appeared in front of the three of them following the collapse of the Master’s body.

The black-clothed man also held a sword in his hand.

[JW1] This whole part was an extended pun on his name. It doesn’t make as much sense when translated.

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