Chapter 152: Where the Path Takes a Sudden Turn, A Entirely New World Opens Up

Chapter 152: Where Mountains Seem to End and a New World Opens Up

When the white ape brought down its palm, He Chang'an had no time to dodge and was forced to meet it with a punch.

Having been practiced hundreds of thousands of times, the "Ancient Fist Technique" had already become He Chang'an's physical instinct. Encountering danger, he threw a punch forward courageously without even thinking.

The punch struck like a seal, concealing wind and thunder within.

The white ape’s aged face changed slightly, as if it had not expected this seemingly unremarkable human to effortlessly unleash a punch of such formidable momentum with a casual strike.

It let out a low roar. The moment its massive palm collided with the fist imprint, it abruptly transformed its palm into a fist, taking He Chang'an's punch head-on.

With a deafening bang, a swirl of snowy mist erupted, completely enveloping both the ape and the human.

The collision of their fists generated a rolling surge of spiritual energy that swept away the accumulated snow within a radius of twenty to thirty paces, exposing a bed of smooth river stones.

White, black, cyan, and deep reddish-green—they were multi-hued and remarkably striking.

He Chang'an let out a muffled grunt and was violently forced back more than ten steps, plowing two deep trenches into the ground with his feet. His deerskin boots and the trouser legs below his knees were instantly reduced to powder.

He lowered his head to regulate his breathing, then took a step forward and threw another punch straight ahead.

During the previous clash with the white ape, he had felt as though his punch had struck a solid mountain, leaving him with a sense of utter helplessness that deeply shocked him.

Yet so what? Even when facing a true mountain, when the time came to throw a punch, it should be nothing more than a simple and straightforward punch.

Only by being fearless and undaunted could one truly comprehend the essence of the Ancient Fist Technique.

The white ape planted its feet firmly on the ground, an expression of anthropomorphic strangeness on its face. Seeing He Chang'an's oncoming fist imprint, it grinned, let out a string of bizarre chuckles, and abruptly unleashed a punch of its own.

He Chang'an's fist imprint was small, roughly the size of his own fist. It naturally emphasized the containment and mastery of spiritual breath without leaking even the slightest wispy trace—truly embodying the essence of the ancient boxing style.

In contrast, the white ape's fist imprint was as large as a millstone, fierce and peerless, shattering stones and cracking the earth. It carried an aura of bone-chilling murderous intent, possessing an irresistible momentum of its own.

He Chang'an's fist technique sought intent.

His fist force was continuous, and his fist intent was unyielding.

The white ape's fist technique sought ferocity—violent, unyielding, and indestructible.

The two fist imprints met in mid-air, colliding in absolute silence.

Another muffled, deafening explosion shook the air, kicking up massive chunks of shattered rock, ice shards, and snowy mist that billowed rapidly outward in all directions.

The young girl A Ran stood holding a small, silver-white flying sword. With her left hand forming a sword incantation and her right hand half-closed around a pale golden talisman, she was ready to strike at any moment.

Earlier, she had merely thought that He Chang'an's martial artist realm was not very high, though his foundation was quite solid; still, he was ultimately just a vulgar martial artist.

To put it bluntly, she thought the fellow was not a bad person, but his cultivation was far too low.

Yet now, seeing He Chang'an trade blows head-on with the white ape without losing the upper hand in the slightest, she couldn't help casting a few extra glances his way.

...

The moment He Chang'an threw his first punch, it was followed by a continuous stream of three, five, ten, and twenty punches.

One step, one punch. The faster he fought, the more rapid his movements became.

The white ape's ugly face gradually grew solemn as it threw punches while retreating step by step.

Every time He Chang'an threw a punch, he advanced a step.

Conversely, every time the white ape threw a punch, it retreated a step.

This alternating advance and retreat left the spectator, A Ran, completely baffled, utterly unable to discern the profound mystery within it.

She simply readied herself to strike, intending to poke the old white ape with a sword first and talk later.

Meanwhile, the fiercely battling He Chang'an grew increasingly hesitant with every strike.

This old white ape had actually perceived the profound subtleties of the "Ancient Fist Technique" and stubbornly refused to engage him in a direct, head-on collision—something that greatly exceeded his expectations.

As expected, any old ape that could live long enough to grow snow-white fur was simply a martial arts monster!

However, He Chang'an was not discouraged. He could already tell that this white ape was merely probing his strength and had no intention of dealing a fatal blow.

Otherwise, had it chosen to crush him with overwhelming, storm-like brute force and a flurry of chaotic punches, it would have been more than enough to reduce He Chang'an to utter misery.

In other words, a vast gap in cultivation realms still existed between him and this white ape.

Roughly... the same gap as the one between him and Zhang Yichao...

After throwing more than thirty punches, He Chang'an suddenly leaped backward, planted his feet firmly, cupped his fists, and bowed deeply. "Senior White Ape, this junior He Chang'an concedes."

"Ah, you're conceding just like that?"

A Ran felt somewhat indignant. Clearly, He Chang'an had the upper hand, relentlessly pressing this old white-furred monkey back step by step with every punch. It had looked rather impressive...

Why was he surrendering of his own accord?

...

The white ape grinned, pointed at He Chang'an's lower abdomen—slightly lower down—made a fist-clumping gesture, and waved it a few times.

A Ran failed to understand the underlying implication, a look of utter bewilderment crossing her delicate face.

He Chang'an, however, felt a jolt in his heart as he instantly understood. Could what the old white ape was pointing at be that bizarre "little black sword"?

He glanced toward the sword scabbard on the white ape's back, nodded slightly, but said nothing.

Some matters were best understood without being spoken aloud.

A brief moment of telepathic resonance miraculously sparked between him and the white ape—

*White Ape: Your name is He Chang'an?*

*He Chang'an: Indeed. May I ask how Senior is addressed?*

*White Ape: Haven't you figured it out already? I am called White Ape. Or you can call me old white-furred monkey if you like; after all, it's just a label.*

*He Chang'an: This junior wouldn't dare.*

*White Ape: Your sword embryo has already taken form, yet why is there no sword intent?*

*He Chang'an: I do not know. I have never formally taken a master...*

The white ape nodded slightly, lowered its head in contemplation for a moment, then suddenly broke into a wide grin, pointed at the young girl A Ran, and let out a string of bizarre "squeak, squeak, squeak" noises.

He Chang'an naturally could not understand a single word of the white ape's "speech." However, he guessed that it probably wanted him to send A Ran away, presumably because it had confidential matters to impart to him.

"Senior White Ape, Lady A Ran here is a good friend of mine. Her character is impeccable, so you can rest assured," He Chang'an said, cupping his fists.

His meaning was crystal clear: speak freely without reservation.

Tilting its head, the white ape examined He Chang'an closely from head to toe once more, then turned its gaze toward the young girl A Ran, its eyes flickering as if weighing and hesitating over something.

Suddenly, the white ape's figure flashed and vanished from where it stood.

An instant later, it abruptly materialized behind the young girl A Ran and, with a mere gentle tap of its palm, knocked her unconscious.

Even though A Ran hailed from an immortal-cultivating sect and possessed exceptionally sharp reflexes, she was still utterly outclassed when facing an "extraordinary high-level ape" like this one. In just a single flash, she was knocked out cold on the ground.

He Chang'an didn't even have time to dissuade it.

Seeing A Ran slump limply, the white ape extended its furry, long arms, hoisted A Ran up by the waist, and casually tossed her over to He Chang'an.

Then, under He Chang'an's bewildered gaze, it strode toward the eastern cliff.

Carrying the young girl A Ran horizontally in his arms, He Chang'an hesitated for a fraction of a second before following closely behind.

Though towering in size, the white ape was extraordinarily agile. A single stride of its legs would often cover dozens of feet. Encountering forests, deep ravines, or sheer precipices, it never slowed down, using both hands and feet to traverse the terrain as if walking on flat ground.

Carrying a person, He Chang'an's speed was nonetheless unhindered. Staying seventeen or eighteen paces behind the white ape, he pursued it relentlessly.

Gradually, the white ape picked up its pace, seemingly intending to test him.

He Chang'an silently executed his breathing and resting techniques, circulating energy through the major and minor heavenly cycles. At the same time, he employed the pacing footwork of the "Ancient Fist Technique." While his speed did not increase dramatically, his breath remained continuous and endlessly revolving.

Thus, one ape and one human pursued each other relentlessly across the snow-covered towering mountains, like two shooting arrows, traveling farther and farther away.

Finally, they vanished from sight.

...

Half an hour later, two figures appeared in the ravine where the white ape, He Chang'an, and A Ran had previously fought.

A middle-aged Daoist priest and a middle-aged Daoist nun.

Dressed in pale cyan Daoist robes, both possessed handsome features, ruby-red lips, and pearly-white teeth. With every gesture, they exuded a detached, otherworldly immortal bearing.

Arriving on flying swords, they moved as swiftly as shooting stars.

Reaching the spot where He Chang'an and the old white ape had battled, they stepped off their flying swords, grave expressions settling upon their faces.

"Senior Brother, how could a child like A Ran be so audacious? To dare sneak out of the mountain sect and associate with such vulgar martial artists—it is simply preposterous!" The middle-aged Daoist nun said softly, her face shadowed with worry.

"It's fine. She is naturally imbued with a sense of chivalry; the people she befriends shouldn't be too terrible in character."

Though the middle-aged Daoist priest spoke thusly, the anxiety and displeasure lurking in the depths of his eyes still leaked through, making his refined and elegant face look somewhat stern.

"A battle took place here. One participant was at the peak of the third-rank martial artist realm, while the other was at the early stage of the eighth-rank."

"This is rather peculiar. Someone at the early eighth-rank martial artist realm managed to continuously unleash thirty-two punches against a third-rank martial artist. Even if the opponent deliberately held back, realm suppression is normally unavoidable..."

The middle-aged Daoist priest walked slowly, casually deducing the scene of the past battle until he described it as if he had witnessed it with his own eyes.

"Perhaps it was merely sparring?" The middle-aged Daoist nun furrowed her delicate brows and asked softly.

"No, both went all out. However, neither harbored any killing intent." The middle-aged Daoist priest stood with his hands behind his back, gazing into the distance toward the eastern cliff, lost in deep, indecisive thought.

"Moreover, one of them possessed a massive physique yet moved with extreme agility—clearly aided by some innate divine ability. Could it be... that old ape?"

The middle-aged Daoist priest's left hand, hidden within his wide sleeve, repeatedly formed incantations as if attempting to divine something.

After a long while, he let out a long sigh, shook his head, and smiled bitterly. "Heavenly secrets have been shielded by an expert; divination is entirely impossible.

"Still, no harm should come of it."

The middle-aged Daoist nun nodded slightly and murmured, "Senior Brother, should we pursue them and investigate?"

"Forget it," the middle-aged Daoist priest said, showing a hint of weariness and waning interest. "Let's return. A Ran will not come to harm.

"Besides, this might well turn out to be a great stroke of fortune for her. If the two of us pursue them and trigger unnecessary misunderstandings, it would defeat the purpose."

A flush bloomed across the middle-aged Daoist nun's delicate face as she stamped her foot in playful annoyance. "Who is 'the two of us' with you!" With that, she stepped onto her flying sword, shot skyward with a *whoosh*, and vanished into the distance after a few flashes.

The middle-aged Daoist priest stroked his beard and smiled.

Then, he burst into hearty laughter, his face beaming with unconcealed triumph. "It's been two or three hundred years, yet you still put up a front—aren't you afraid of being laughed at by our junior brothers and sisters?"

With those words, he leaped into the air, planted his foot on his flying sword, and shot southward like a streak of light, his wide sleeves fluttering as if he were a true immortal.

In that direction lay the region of Mount Zhenwu...

...

Meanwhile, closely tailing the white ape, He Chang'an journeyed eastward across the snow-clad peaks. After running swiftly for nearly an hour, they entered an ancient forest dense with towering trees.

Surrounded by mountains on all sides, the place was filled with verdant primeval trees towering over a hundred feet high, each one easily dating back a millennium or more.

In fact, he noticed five giant willow trees standing right at the center of the valley. Their massive canopies spanned hundreds of feet wide, resembling five ancient imperial canopies encircling a large ring as if guarding something.

Outside, the world was blanketed in snow and swept by biting northern winds.

Inside the valley, however, it was as warm as spring. Tender grass, delicate flowers, and tame beasts such as sika deer, muntjacs, and colorful golden pheasants strolled leisurely through the dense woods.

Upon seeing the white ape, He Chang'an, and A Ran, these creatures showed no terror; instead, they poked their heads out to watch, looking thoroughly curious.

He Chang'an could only click his tongue in wonder and sigh deeply, finding the craftsmanship of nature simply unimaginable.

Stepping into the territory guarded by the canopies of the five giant willow trees, the white ape slowed its pace, walking leisurely as if returning to its own courtyard.

Carrying the young girl A Ran horizontally, He Chang'an followed closely behind.

The moment he stepped into the domain protected by the willow canopies, his feet felt suddenly weak, and he nearly tumbled to the ground, prompting a look of utter dismay.

This place was exceedingly bizarre. His cultivation base as an early eighth-rank martial artist seemed to have vanished completely, and even the spiritual energy and righteous qi within his body were entirely gone.

*'A formation?'*

He Chang'an's face remained calm, though deep down he felt immense hesitation.

Old scholars often said that a gentleman does not stand under a tottering wall; one must do what one can, but also measure one's capabilities—only then could it be called the "Doctrine of the Mean."

He understood this principle only half-pleased, yet the fundamental meaning was clear to him.

These five giant willows, though seemingly arranged at random without any pattern, revealed upon entry that this place utterly suppressed and severed all spiritual power, true qi, and righteous qi!

This sensation was thoroughly uncomfortable.

Especially after struggling and crawling his way through the path of cultivation for so long, losing these reliances meant he was reduced to an ordinary mortal at the mercy of others...

The white ape glanced back at He Chang'an's somewhat disheveled appearance and grinned.

Pondering for a moment as if recalling something exceedingly amusing, it began to clutch its sides with laughter.

Eventually, it even collapsed onto the ground, rolling around in a fit of wild laughter, which only served to make He Chang'an even more suspicious and unsettled.

Just as he was hesitating whether to retreat, the white ape leaped to its feet and once again established a brief telepathic link: *' Brat, are you scared? If you're scared, get out of here.'*

*He Chang'an: Senior White Ape, this place is rather bizarre. What kind of place is this?*

*White Ape: Sword Mountain.*

*He Chang'an: Sword Mountain? What does that mean?*

*White Ape: Sword Mountain is Sword Mountain, what else could it mean? Your name is He Chang'an; did I ever ask you what your name meant?*

*He Chang'an: Is this Senior White Ape's secluded dwelling?*

*White Ape: No, this is my master's secluded dwelling. He has been away from the mortal world for far too long, and I have been waiting for his return.*

*He Chang'an: Your master... which senior expert is he?*

*White Ape: You really are an idiot. Since there are five willow trees here, my master is naturally Master Five Willows...*

He Chang'an wore a look of utter bewilderment as he involuntarily muttered to himself: "Master Five Willows... who is that?"