Green Mountain

A roar of Martial Arts rang through heaven and earth, as if someone drew an invisible sword from the firmament above; the clang of blade leaving scabbard pressed down the mountain wind, pressed down the soughing pines, pressed down the millennia-old snow that never melts on Changbai Mountain.

The great mist above the Heavenly Pool was jolted to a halt by this sound, then churned violently, as though some colossal creature were turning over within it.

Almost at the same time, the Martial Temple Mountain People patrolling the mountain all halted in unison, silently gazing at the great mist above the Heavenly Pool. Someone’s torch flickered unsteadily in the wind, someone’s sheathed blade on their shoulder gave off a fine, buzzing hum.

Many people live their whole lives without ever having a chance to hear a Martial Arts Roar; this Martial Arts Roar exists only as word of mouth in the Jianghu, having all but become a legend. When a storyteller in the Jianghu comes to this part, he always adds fuel to the fire with a line of "heaven and earth change color, ghosts and gods are all startled," yet how exactly they are startled, no one can say clearly.

The Martial Temple Mountain People have that chance; on the day a sword is cultivated along the Sword Seed Path, there will definitely be a Martial Arts Roar.

But the Mountain Master made his name too early: at twelve he entered the Innate realm; at sixteen, Seeking Dao; at twenty-one, the Divine Realm... The Mountain Master is now more than one hundred and fifty years old; when he was twelve and cultivating his sword, even the oldest elder in the Temple of Martial Arts had not yet been born.

The youths in the Temple of Martial Arts have only ever heard from their grandmasters’ mouths about "how it was back then when the Mountain Master attained Dao," hearing it until calluses formed on their ears, yet they have never heard that sound with their own ears.

Some once said that on the day the Mountain Master stepped into the Divine Realm, there was also a Martial Arts Roar; that day, clouds parted over Changbai Mountain and the sun broke through, and a flock of wild geese came from the south, circling above the Heavenly Pool without dispersing.

The cries of geese mingled with the sword’s cry; one could not tell which sound belonged to bird, which to sword.

Some once said that if a martial artist hears a Martial Arts Roar, he can gain enlightenment; if a living creature can seize the chance from a Martial Arts Roar, it can gain human-like sentience and cultivate the Great Dao. That big Qing Niu in the Huangshan Dao Court gained just such a chance when an Apostle stepped into the Divine Realm, listening to the Martial Arts Roar from nearby, its spirituality fully awakened.

That big Qing Niu had originally been nothing more than a stupid beast that turned the mill; in a single night, it became clever, from then on refusing to eat grass or fodder, and instead specializing in stealing the elixirs and incense offerings of the Huangshan Dao Court.

The Huangshan Dao Court wanted to kill it, but Zhang Li stopped them, took it down the mountain, and hid it away to let it steal food.

Previously, when the Martial Temple Mountain People were patrolling, they only thought Wu Kezhi was making a mountain out of a molehill; after all, there was nothing worth stealing above this Heavenly Pool, just a few dozen shabby thatched huts.

The roofs of the thatched huts were covered in moss, the walls full of cracks, leaking wind in winter and rain in summer. The very hut the Mountain Master himself lived in had its threshold stomped to pieces without ever being replaced; it was only last year, when Old Yao borrowed the place and really couldn’t stand it anymore, that he had Liang Mao’er chop a few trees from the mountain to repair it.

The Martial Temple Mountain People hadn’t originally taken the breaking of the Mountain Gate to heart; there really wasn’t anything to lose.

But at the instant the Martial Arts Roar sounded, everyone’s expression changed. They all came to the edge of the cliff, lowering their heads to peer at the flowing dense mist, yet still could not see what was happening in the lake.

At this moment, Uncle Changsheng stood where he was and muttered, "All the Divine Weapons at the bottom of the lake have spirituality; how could he possibly take a sword, cultivate a sword? And the Soldier Master’s Blade Intent, why hasn’t it cut him down... why did it only cut me?"

"This concerns too much. The Sword Seed Inheritor is right here in the Temple of Martial Arts; we absolutely can’t let him escape. Kill his accomplices first!" Aunt Qiu Bai hefted her kitchen knife and charged toward where the footsteps had just sounded.

Uncle Changsheng cursed once, then took off after her; as he ran he shouted, "Slow down, I can’t see you anymore!"

But when the two of them broke through the dense mist, how could there still be any human figure before their eyes? There were only broken dead branches underfoot, and footprints in the soft packed snow, staggering away and vanishing in deeper fog.

Aunt Qiu Bai turned back and glared viciously at Uncle Changsheng. "It’s all your fault for wasting time; otherwise how could we have let the thieves run off so easily?"

Uncle Changsheng turned a deaf ear to her scolding; instead he squatted down, poking at the footprints in the snow with his finger, falling into thought. "Don’t you find it strange? They all say that when the Sword Seed Path cultivates a sword seed, there will be a Martial Arts Roar. Doesn’t that mean this thief only just now came to our Temple of Martial Arts and completed that Path? An ordinary person groping their way to the Mountain Gate—his guts are far too big, aren’t they?"

Aunt Qiu Bai pondered. "Perhaps it’s a master teaching a disciple; the disciple has yet to forge a sword seed, but the master is a formidable character."

Uncle Changsheng racked his brains but couldn’t figure it out. "No matter how formidable, can he be more formidable than the Mountain Master? How does he dare come to the Temple of Martial Arts to seek death?"

Aunt Qiu Bai said firmly, "Perhaps the news of the Sword Seed Path appearing in the Ning Dynasty was something they deliberately let out. Their goal was to lure the tiger from the mountain and trick the Mountain Master into going to the Ning Dynasty."

Uncle Changsheng suddenly saw the light. "Makes sense. But for petty thieves of this sort, even if they steal a sword it’s useless. Wu Kezhi is probably going to have Luo Yunlin use a talismanic array to seal the Mountain Gate; they won’t be able to escape..."

Yet just then, it seemed as if something else broke through the lake water and soared straight up, stirring the flowing dense mist even more violently.

A clear, bright sound exploded across the firmament; but this time it was no longer the sound of blade or sword leaving the scabbard—it was more like someone blowing a transverse flute with all their might, birthing killing intent on the spot.

Changsheng stopped talking, staring blankly up at the night sky.

The flute sound crashed back and forth between the Sixteen Giant Divine Peaks of Heavenly Pool, one note layered atop another, like hundreds and thousands of flutes being played at the same time.

Changsheng muttered, "A second Martial Arts Roar... Wait, how can there be two Martial Arts Roars?! And what’s with this flute sound—has anyone ever mentioned that a Martial Arts Roar comes with some other sound?"

...

...

In the dense mist, Old Ears walked along the sheer cliff face, one deep step and one shallow, holding Wu Yun in his arms.

The first Martial Arts Roar echoed through the mountains, shaking the snow off the pine branches, sending it pattering down.

He strode along the precipice in high spirits. "See, didn’t I tell you they wouldn’t catch us? If we let them nab us in a place like the Temple of Martial Arts, where would this old fellow’s face be?"

Wu Yun let out a weak meow. "Put me down..."

Old Ears chuckled. "You admire me too? No need, no need, we’re only just getting started. You savor that Martial Arts Roar properly; along this Heavenly Pool shore, you’re the only little creature around—this entire chance has fallen into your lap."

Wu Yun rolled her eyes. "You really have a comeback for every single sentence..."

"You ask me, between Chen Ji and Mountain Master Lu Yang, who’s stronger?" Old Ears shook his head. "Chen Ji is still far behind. Mountain Master Lu Yang stepped into the Innate at twelve, and into Seeking Dao at sixteen..."

Wu Yun almost went mad. "Who asked you!"

Right at that moment, the second Martial Arts Roar resounded between heaven and earth. Old Ears suddenly halted his steps. "A second sound? How can there be a second sound? He’s entered the Divine Realm? No, no, no!"

When the first Martial Arts Roar rang out, Old Ears hadn’t reacted yet. Only when he heard the second did he realize something was wrong. Don’t mention the second sound—there shouldn’t even have been the first.

He came to the edge of the cliff, listening to the flute from the sky with a thoughtful look. As he listened, a force rose from the lake again, tearing open the surface and soaring upward, exploding into a bell peal in the heavens.

The copper bell boomed, and the drifting thick mist suddenly froze, chaos swept aside, order restored.

Old Ears raised his head to the night sky, muttering, "The third... Damn it, how can there be so many Martial Arts Roars?"

Wu Yun suddenly meowed and asked, "So now, compared to Lu Yang, who’s stronger?"

Old Ears muttered again, "Right, we really should leave. If we don’t go now, something’s going to happen."

On the other side, Wu Kezhi stood on the shore, facing the wind. The Jishan Blade was shaken into a low hum by that bell sound; not only Jishan, but every weapon within ten li quivered and buzzed continuously.

Thick mist billowed at his side, yet he was like a blade driven into the rock, not moving an inch.

Dozens of Wu Temple Mountain People behind Wu Kezhi were clamorously talking at once. "A third Martial Arts Roar?"

Someone picked up the thread. "How can there be three Martial Arts Roars? Don’t tell me some lunatic took three disciples at once and all three raised sword seeds together?"

"That still doesn’t make sense. Why is this Martial Arts Roar different from how others describe it? Flute sounds, then bell sounds?"

But before the crowd could argue their way to a conclusion, the lake’s surface was whipped by a fierce wind. It rolled the thick mist into a mad spin, forming a vortex over the vast Heavenly Pool.

Within the vortex, another force broke out of the lake, exploding into drumbeats in the night sky. The drum sound rolled on and on, making the lake water leap and shudder without end.

"The fourth sound!"

"It’s the fourth Martial Arts Roar!"

Before the drums ceased, golden light flared at the lakebed, piercing the thin mist, a shaft of gold stabbing straight into the firmament.

In the night sky, bronze bells rang out.

Gong, Shang, Jue, Zhi, Yu—the five tones all chimed at once, woven into a piece of music no one had ever heard before. The melody was solemn and vast, like the ancient elegant music the Emperor would have played when offering sacrifice to heaven.

"That makes it the fifth Martial Arts Roar already. Does it ever stop?" Uncle Changsheng and Aunt Qiu Bai came running back, shouting, "Wu Kezhi, what the hell is going on?"

Wu Kezhi said softly, "Golden sound and jade resonance, the five tones complete—this is a Martial Arts Roar you only see in antiquity..."

Before he finished, a rumbling suddenly came from down the mountain. Everyone turned to look behind them. "What sound is that?"

"Hoofbeats." Wu Kezhi’s expression tightened. "Not good. The birds and beasts of Changbai Mountain have been drawn here by the Martial Arts Roar. They’re coming up to drink from the Heavenly Pool. Luo Yunlin, quickly, seal the mountain with the talismanic array."

In the crowd, a young man opened his mouth. "Too late..."

Hundreds, thousands of hooves and feet stamped on snow and dead branches, merging into a deep, rolling thunder. In the darkness, countless eyes lit up, densely packed.

In no time, the first bear-bison burst through the heavy fog and appeared in the firelight, followed closely by a herd of wild boars.

The bear-bison, wild boars, roe deer, and sika deer of Changbai Mountain all trod through the snow, surging toward the Heavenly Pool in packs, charging up to it and smashing dozens of the Wu Temple Mountain People’s thatched huts into thunderous collapse.

Thatch flew into the sky, wooden beams were crushed to splinters under trampling hooves, stoves were overturned, and iron pots rolled across the ground with a clang-clang-ting-ting.

Chang Sheng wailed, "My house! My pot! This isn’t robbing my home, this is tearing down my entire Temple of Martial Arts! I will never share the same sky with that bastard!"

Amid his wailing, a tiger descended from the ridge, steps unhurried, calm and steady. Wherever it passed, roe deer and sika deer automatically parted to make way, and even the bear-bison lowered their heads.

When the Wu Temple Mountain People looked up again, they saw flocks of birds flying over the ridge—crows, jays, owls, hawks, golden eagles—circling in the sound of the bronze bells.

The birds and beasts gathered at the Heavenly Pool, keeping to their own sides, without disturbing one another, all vying to lower their heads and drink.

Aunt Qiu Bai grew anxious and readied herself to rush into the lake. "The talismanic array’s broken, and these birds and beasts are all over the place. I’m afraid we’ll let the bastard slip away. We absolutely can’t let him leave alive."

Wu Kezhi raised a hand to stop her, his gaze fixed on that patch of thick mist at the lake’s heart pierced by golden light. "I’ll go."

With that, he leapt straight into the Heavenly Pool, gripping the hilt of the Jishan Blade, streaking toward the lake’s heart like a sharp arrow.