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Chapter 806: Stepping into the Hall with Xue Jun
Chapter 806: Stepping into the Hall with Xue Jun
The disciples of the Wave Pavilion who were leading the way maintained a respectful and solemn demeanor. After all, they were guiding a renowned fighter from a distant land, invited by their teacher as an opponent, and they dared not show the slightest disrespect.
As Chen Chuan followed the two disciples uphill, a warship responsible for escorting them approached Erwen Island. Its cannons aimed at the island, ready to unleash a barrage if any unusual activities were detected or if the fighters encountered unforeseen circumstances.
After leaving the beach, Chen Chuan followed the disciples for about ten minutes, entering a serene bamboo-lined path that led to the residence.
He noticed a large stone beside the path, with the characters "Wave Pavilion" inscribed upon it. The strokes were bold and powerful, exuding a sense of grandeur. Merely gazing at the characters, one could almost hear the surging waves, yet beneath the surface, there seemed to be a hint of restrained gentleness, as if the force behind the inscription had been subdued by some power, making the sound of the waves awe-inspiring yet not alarming, fierce yet not menacing.
The disciple from the Wave Pavilion immediately introduced the stone, "This 'Wave Pavilion' was personally inscribed by our founder, Zen Blade Master, over six hundred years ago."
Chen Chuan fixed his gaze upon the characters, sensing the lingering mental energy within them, reminiscent of the lotus seat of the Grand Dharma Master.
And...
His eyes delved deeper into the inscription, uncovering hidden meanings within the characters.
Noticing his pause, the two disciples remained silent, respectfully waiting by his side.
Chen Chuan stood there for a while before turning his attention to a mountain path winding upwards through the bamboo forest behind the residence. "Let's go," he said.
"Please, sir," the disciple responded, leading Chen Chuan along the path. Initially, the path was steep, but after climbing for a while, it became more gradual. Occasionally, the sound of birdsong echoed through the bamboo grove.
As Chen Chuan's gaze swept across the forest, he spotted a large, dark-green stone monument in the depths, adorned with sculptures of peculiar creatures. Numerous names were engraved on it, but many spaces remained blank.
"What is that?" Chen Chuan inquired.
The disciple respectfully replied, "Sir, that is the Martyr's Monument, bearing the names of our disciples who have died in duels and battles outside the Wave Pavilion over the centuries."
After a brief pause, he added, "After Brother Fan Cheng's death, his name was also inscribed on that monument."
Chen Chuan glanced at him, "You call him your junior brother, so you must be Bian Yue Yizhen, the current head disciple of the Wave Pavilion?"
Bian Yue Yizhen bowed slightly, confirming, "Yes, it is me."
Chen Chuan had noticed Bian Yue Yizhen's exceptional abilities when he greeted them earlier. Among the third-degree fighters, he was undoubtedly one of the best. He had met both Ye Jianhong from the Tranquil Dawn Pavilion and Gong Yingchangxiu from the Wind Forest Pavilion, each possessing an indescribable aura. However, Bian Yue Yizhen appeared ordinary on the surface, but Chen Chuan sensed an unwavering, perhaps even obsessive, conviction within him, something the other two lacked.
"You don't seem to be grieving over your junior brother's death," Chen Chuan remarked.
Bian Yue Yizhen lifted his head slightly, "As warriors, we face the risk of perishing by the blade. We pour our blood and bury ourselves in the earth, for our mortal bodies cannot endure. Only our martial reputation that lasts. Brother Fan Cheng died at your hands, and it is a blessing for him to have fallen in battle against a fighter."
His words were sincere, leaving no doubt about his genuine belief.
Chen Chuan remained noncommittal as they exited the bamboo forest, and the view ahead opened up. Through the corridor, they could see a typical old-style wooden structure from the era of foreign island nations.
On both sides of the corridor, rows of scarlet flower trees were planted, and in front of the entrance, a black-clad, crippled old man knelt solemnly, unmoving even as they approached.
As they passed by, the old man suddenly spoke, "Sir, has he exhausted all his moves?"
Chen Chuan understood whom he was referring to and replied after a moment's thought, "I suppose so."
Hearing this, the crippled old man turned and bowed deeply.
Chen Chuan didn't pay him any further attention and continued down the corridor to the wooden structure's entrance. There, Bian Yue Yizhen bowed and said, "My teacher awaits you in the Grand Hall. Please excuse me for not accompanying you further."
Chen Chuan glanced inside and, without removing his shoes, stepped onto the wooden floor, leaving no trace of dirt or moisture behind.
As they walked through the entrance hall and approached the Grand Hall, they saw a tall and slender figure, over two meters tall even while seated, with long, loose hair. A slightly curved long sword rested on a rack beside him, and a wave-patterned ink-colored incense burner sat on the side table. Above him hung a calligraphy scroll with the characters "Thunder Listener."
Wave Pavilion's Pavilion Master, Feng Heshou.
At this moment, he extended his hand, gesturing to Chen Chuan and saying, "Mr. Chen, please take a seat."
Chen Chuan walked over and sat down opposite him.
Feng Heshou picked up a ceramic teapot from the table and poured a cup of tea into the cup in front of Chen Chuan. The tea leaves in the cup had delicate white buds, and when viewed from above, they resembled a layer of floating snowflakes.
"This is Snow Wave Tea," he said. "It's said that there are only two remaining tea trees in the world, transplanted from the Eastern Land Zen Temple. They can only be harvested at the end of October, and now it's just the right time to use them to entertain guests. Mr. Chen, please have a taste."
Chen Chuan picked up the cup, took a sip, and immediately felt a refreshing coolness spreading through his body, accompanied by an endless fragrance. "I may not be an expert in tea, but I think this tea is excellent," he remarked.
Feng Heshou replied, "It's good that Mr. Chen enjoys it. Whether you understand it or not doesn't matter. People like us no longer need to care about the opinions of the secular world or others."
Chen Chuan took another sip of tea. Due to the small size of the cup, it was almost empty in one sip, leaving only the tea leaves at the bottom. He placed the cup down and said with a double entendre, "It's not enough."
Instead of pouring more tea, Feng Heshou glanced at the Snow Lady Sword he had brought with him and said, "Mr. Chen, your appearance is exceptional, and your demeanor is dignified. It's a pity that your sword doesn't match your stature."
Chen Chuan maintained a calm expression and said, "Whether I have a sword or not, it's all the same to me."
Feng Heshou looked at him and asked, "If that's the case, why did you bring it?"
Chen Chuan lifted the sword, glanced at it, and then raised his eyes, saying, "This sword is named Snow Lady. It has accompanied me since I embarked on the path of combat, and it has been a loyal companion. This time, when I spar with the Pavilion Master, there are no spectators, so it can watch the match here."
In the 1619 version, the book and the bar, there is no mistake!
Feng Heshou seemed to approve of these words, and his expression showed sincere agreement. He extended his hand and pulled a nearby chain, causing a mechanical sound to echo. The entire chamber they were in trembled and began to slowly descend.
Chen Chuan's face remained calm as he sat quietly.
The chamber continued to descend for about forty to fifty meters. A series of creaking sounds could be heard, as if the ropes were being tightened, followed by a gentle shake, and then it came to a stop.
Chen Chuan noticed a passageway behind Feng Heshou, supported by a wooden frame. The black lacquered pillars were carved with strange and bizarre creatures, and at the end of the passage, a bright light shone through.
Feng Heshou grabbed the long sword by his side and said, "Mr. Chen, you saw the words above my head just now, and this sword is called 'Thunder Listener'." He picked up the sword and stood up from his seat.
Standing upright, he was a towering figure, nearly four meters tall, dressed in a tightly fitted combat uniform of the Pavilion. His sleeves were slightly wider, and his face was relatively long and narrow, but not unattractive. It was difficult to discern his age; he seemed to be in his twenties, yet he also appeared to be in his fifties. His body exuded a profound and solemn aura.
"Mr. Chen," he said, "there's not enough space here. Please follow me." With that, he turned and walked toward the radiant light.
Chen Chuan also stood up, picked up the Snow Lady Sword, and followed him.
The corridor was relatively spacious, with a height of over twenty meters and a width of five to six meters. Surprisingly, there were still numerous scratches and marks of friction on the walls and ceiling.
The radiant light ahead was very familiar to him; it was the radiance from the opposite world.
He was aware of the combat pavilions that existed in the overseas territories. Those that had survived and maintained their complete traditions all possessed their own rifts. The place they were heading to was likely the rift of the Wave Pavilion.
This was a secret to ordinary people, but for fighters, it was common knowledge.
Chen Chuan had once entered the rift of the Single Stream Pavilion, where an elder stood guard. He wondered what awaited them here.
Just as they were about to reach the light, Feng Heshou stopped, bathed in the radiant light. The space around him seemed to be forcibly expanded, revealing a large pit where the decorations and supports had disappeared. "There used to be an elder from our Wave Pavilion here, but he has now left," he said.
"He left?" Chen Chuan asked.
"Although our theoretical lifespan has no end," Feng Heshou explained, "during cultivation, external impurities can infiltrate. The more we cultivate, the more impurities accumulate, and it's irreversible.
However, it is this very transformation that allows us to break through limits. Therefore, it's extremely difficult to eradicate these impurities. As cultivation progresses, not only do external impurities accumulate, but they also emerge from within our divine consciousness, creating internal and external pressures that are unbearable. This requires constant purification and management. If we fail to maintain our defenses, we will be tainted and transformed into something else."
...
...
(End of Chapter)
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