Chapter 68: The World Has Spring

The immense Dharma Body of Qi Jingchun, pure white and ethereal, sat solemnly upon the northernmost edge of the Eastern Treasury Continent.

Rolling seas of clouds surged and pressed downward, slowly drawing closer to Qi Jingchun's head.

Qi Jingchun looked up, a carefree smile gracing his lips.

From above the clouds, a voice of authority echoed, "Qi Jingchun, know that the Dao of Heaven is impartial! As a disciple of Confucianism, your compassion for the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven is understandable. If you repent now, there is still a chance."

Accompanying the words of this celestial immortal, rumbling sounds akin to thunder swiftly traversed the sea of clouds, with fleeting flashes of lightning seeping from the cloud's depths.

Words became law.

Another immortal scoffed, "Why waste words with this bookworm! If he wishes to accomplish something earth-shattering, he must first ask if my fists will allow it!"

Simultaneously, a massive golden palm plunged into the sea of clouds, creating a gaping hole and casting a pillar of light before Qi Jingchun's Dharma Body.

From the west, a Buddhist chant arose, filled with compassion, "Benefactor Qi, a single thought of stillness will lead you to the Buddha-lands."

Qi Jingchun replied in a deep voice, "After the Dragon-Slaying Campaign, the small town enjoyed three millennia of great fortune. Future generations produced talented individuals in droves. This was nothing more than borrowing from the future. However, since the four Sages established this rule, and the first cultivators who chose to settle in the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven had no objections, I, Qi Jingchun, naturally have no right to interfere. Now that the Dao of Heaven seeks to suppress this realm, let it come. It is simply that I, Qi Jingchun, will bear this calamity in place of the town's people. Since the Dao of Heaven and its rules have not been forgotten, why do you all obstruct it?"

The immortal who had stirred up the clouds roared with laughter, "Haha, Qi, are you truly ignorant of the reason, or are you feigning madness?"

Unbeknownst to them, Qi Jingchun had extended a hand, holding the pearl containing the small grotto-heaven in his palm, clenching it into a fist.

Within his palm, inside the grotto-heaven, above the small town, it was likely that the scene had shifted from sudden daylight to pitch darkness.

At that moment, the snow-white hand protecting the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven seemed to suffer invisible attacks from all directions, crackling and sparking with white arcs. "Snowflakes," seemingly as small as feathers but in reality as large as mountains, continuously detached from Qi Jingchun's hand, plummeting towards the mortal realm, only to vanish before they could land.

The cloud immortal, seated near the gap in the clouds, sneered, "Insignificant Confucian, defying the Great Dao, overestimating yourself! I shall play with you first!"

If one were to look from afar on the Eastern Treasury Continent and could pierce the concealing arrays created by the immortals, one could vaguely see a magnificent scene. Within the vast hole in the clouds, a black dot appeared first, falling straight down. Then, the tip of a sword emerged, and finally, the entire form was revealed: a "miniature" flying sword the length of Qi Jingchun's Dharma Body's finger.

As the first sword materialized, a second followed close behind from elsewhere. The third and fourth swords descended from the cloud sea, one after another, for a total of twelve flying swords.

Aligned in a single row, suspended in the high sky.

Like iron cavalry in formation, reins tightened, awaiting the order to charge and break through the enemy lines.

Above the clouds, a golden giant sat cross-legged, eyes wide and golden, elbows on knees, and slowly extended the index finger of his right fist. He flicked it.

The first flying sword shot toward the arm where Qi Jingchun's fist was clenched.

The speed of the falling sword was like lightning, leaving behind a continuous cloud tail in its wake.

The flying sword instantly pierced Qi Jingchun's Dharma Body's arm, stopping only inches from the ground.

Above the clouds, the golden giant lightly rotated the index finger of his right fist. The flying sword traced an arc, returning to the sky. Simultaneously, his left hand tapped a finger lightly, and a flying sword that had been hovering in the air crashed down, piercing Qi Jingchun's arm once more.

The two fingers rose and fell alternately.

The twelve flying swords plummeted straight down, then traced arcs to return upward.

Up and down, repeating the cycle.

After being repeatedly and densely pierced by the flying swords, Qi Jingchun's arm was riddled with countless black holes, a stark contrast to the original pure white and imposing Dharma Body, making it all the more shocking.

Qi Jingchun remained calm. Seeing another wave of flying swords approaching to begin a new round of attacks.

Truly aggressive and unrelenting.

Qi Jingchun said with effortless calm, "Spring Breeze Proud."

A flying sword still flew straight toward Qi Jingchun's arm, but this time, before it could pierce his arm, it swayed like a pine needle blown by a gentle breeze. Not only this sword, but all eleven flying swords that followed failed to hit their mark. They circled Qi Jingchun's Dharma Body, following a predetermined trajectory, their blades trembling, biding their time, emitting faint, hissing sounds.

Moreover, a spring breeze permeating the heavens and earth imperceptibly supported the descending sea of clouds.

The golden giant, bare-chested and exuding an air of freedom, looked down, surprised to see that the twelve flying swords could not find any openings. "Oh?"

Qi Jingchun did not pay much attention to these flying swords that were overwhelmingly powerful to mortal cultivators. He kept his gaze fixed on his clenched fist.

There is a saying, that old pearls lose their luster. The pearl of Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, suspended above the Eastern Treasury Continent, had also been in existence for three thousand years. It was destined that sixty years later, in the hands of the next Sage, Ruan Qiong, the outer walls of the pearl would shatter completely, like a piece of porcelain with its glaze peeled away. At that time, the Dao of Heaven would crush down with irresistible force. Although no one would die immediately, all the people of the small town would lose their afterlife. Qi Jingchun had specially consulted Buddhist scriptures and even deduced a terrifying consequence: the six thousand-odd people of the town, used as "scapegoats" to bear the might of Heaven, might be eternally trapped in the hungry ghost realm of the Western Buddhist Kingdom, never to be freed.

Ruan Qiong, a military strategist and swordsmith, as the last Sage to preside over the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, would not be responsible for protecting the safety of the small town's people, but for ensuring that no one escaped this punishment from the Dao of Heaven.

The golden giant's voice boomed like thunder, resounding through the sky, laughing loudly, "Some say that you, Qi Jingchun, are not simple, possessing two natal characters: 'Spring,' and a 'Stillness' that breaks the rules. Come, let me see for myself!"With each utterance of the word "Come," the giant's fist crashed against his knee.

After three such blows, the sea of clouds churned violently, like water brought to a boil in a cauldron.

At the cloud sea's base, the gentle breeze, previously invisible to the naked eye, swayed erratically, the light flickering in a chaotic dance of brightness and shadow.

The giant boomed, "You possess a spring breeze, but I command a rain of flying swords! A chilling douse for the likes of you!"

As the words echoed, countless golden threads pierced the cloud sea and permeated the spring breeze.

Compared to the colossal size of the giant, these golden threads resembled tiny embroidery needles, barely the length of a fingernail. Yet, their sheer number, numbering in the thousands upon thousands, created a breathtaking and terrifying spectacle.

Qi Jingchun, his gaze still fixed upon the fist, remained unfazed. He softly recited, "Good rain knows its season, when spring arrives, it comes to life."

Around the seated Dharma Idol, raindrops burst forth from the ground, each droplet seemingly insignificant, yet each one as vast as a pond.

Defying the natural order, these droplets surged upward towards the sky in a torrential downpour.

An inverted rain curtain.

All because of the verse intoned by the Confucian sage, Qi Jingchun.

The golden, dazzling rain of flying swords descended from above, while the spring rain curtain ascended from the earth below.

They collided with earth-shattering force!

Above him, the weather raged, but Qi Jingchun remained oblivious, unmoved, and silent.

Around the fist, streaks of lightning materialized from thin air, striking the back of the Dharma Idol's hand.

The lightning crackled in three distinct colors: crimson, violet, and pure white. Though seemingly chaotic, these colors remained separate, never intertwining, yet woven into three vast nets.

The Dharma Idol's fist crumbled, scattering debris and fluttering feathers, its power constantly diminishing.

Qi Jingchun quietly murmured, "Tranquility..."

The pure white lightning inexplicably froze in place, but the other two colors continued their prescribed course. This caused a crimson bolt to shatter a white one, while a violet bolt ensnared the crimson one. The seemingly inescapable net of heaven was thrown into disarray.

From above the cloud sea, an aged voice echoed, "Order in Chaos!"

In an instant, the three lightning nets, previously on the verge of collapse, regained their majestic, orderly power.

They continued to strike Qi Jingchun's Dharma Idol's fist repeatedly.

Qi Jingchun sighed softly.

"This petty squabble has gone on long enough, Qi Jingchun. Dare you withstand my fist?"

A golden fist descended from a hole in the cloud sea, aimed directly at Qi Jingchun's head.

Qi Jingchun raised his free right hand, palm facing upward, to intercept the crushing blow.

Qi Jingchun's Dharma Idol plummeted a hundred yards, but a surge of invigorating wind lifted the cloud sea by the same distance.

As if creating a two-hundred-yard gap between heaven and earth.

"Again!"

The golden immortal rained down punches, each blow carrying the force of a thousand thunderbolts. Even the mightiest mountains of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent would not withstand such force.

Qi Jingchun's snow-white Dharma Idol merely raised its arm, held high.

First, a large pit was smashed into the Dharma Idol's palm. Then, the entire hand shattered, followed by the arm being pulverized joint by joint by the golden fist.

The severely damaged Qi Jingchun remained unmoved, his attention focused entirely on his left hand, clenched in a fist.

Daoist talismans covered the fist, extending to the entire arm and shoulder, each character the size of a house, crackling with lightning.

The aged voice continued, "Do not be so stubborn, Qi Jingchun. If you are willing, you can follow me and cultivate."

Qi Jingchun slightly turned his head, gazing down at the riddled arm, now covered in supreme decrees written by the patriarchs and saints of the Daoist lineage, a true act of "acting on behalf of Heaven."

Qi Jingchun gently exhaled and said in a deep voice, "Purity..."

The aged voice revealed a hint of fury, "Qi Jingchun, you are audacious!"

A roar, forcibly silencing the last two words after Qi Jingchun's "Purity."

High above, two fingers merged into a sword, effortlessly cleaving through the cloud sea and descending in a single strike!

It directly severed Qi Jingchun's clenched fist from the shoulder!

Far away, a faint sigh, filled with regret, could be heard.

A Confucian sage should not overstep boundaries.

Qi Jingchun should not have crossed the Daoist's forbidden zone.

The finger-sword, having successfully severed Qi Jingchun's arm, seemed to reflect the owner's continuing rage. The two fingers retracted quickly into the cloud sea, not ceasing, but stabbing even faster toward the suspended fist, now without root or source.

Qi Jingchun retracted the remaining half of his right arm and quickly shielded the bead above, pulling it close to his chest.

The immortal's two fingers pierced through Qi Jingchun's Dharma Idol's arm without hesitation. The golden giant's fist, erupting from the void, struck Qi Jingchun's Dharma Idol’s head with full force.

Qi Jingchun's Dharma Idol faltered precariously.

Though limbs were severed, the sleeves still fluttered, carrying the air of a scholar. Yet, the contrast only highlighted the tragic state of the figure.

Again, struck on the head, Qi Jingchun's Dharma Idol continued to sink.

Blow after blow rained down, as if it would not rest until the scholar was buried deep underground.

The battered Dharma Idol held the fist, the bead, the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, and the people who would greet him as "Teacher Qi," close to its chest.

The Dharma Idol's lips moved silently, reciting, "The stars follow their courses, the sun and moon alternate in shining, the four seasons are governed, Yin and Yang transform greatly, wind and rain bestow widely, all things obtain harmony to live, and obtain nourishment to flourish..."

Within the small grotto-heaven.

In the village school, not a single student was present.

There sat alone a blue-robed Confucian scholar, his temples not just frosted, but his hair completely white.

The scholar bled from all seven orifices, his flesh a blur of blood and gore.

His soul was shattered, more thoroughly than a porcelain vase dropped heavily on the ground.

The scholar wore an expression of utter joy, closing his eyes and smiling as he breathed his last.

The world possesses me, Qi Jingchun.

The world rejoices, and I, too, rejoice.

In that year, spring departed exceptionally late, and summer arrived exceptionally slow.