A huge wave of martial artists surged over like a tide, charging noisily to the edge of the dock—but in the end, none dared get too close. They were genuinely wary of Jack Young now, no longer bold enough to act recklessly.
The clatter of hooves echoed as government cavalry swept in, encircling the dock tightly. Rachel Luo and Fiona Fang dashed out from the crowd, with Damei using her inner strength to bring them over, though the girls themselves were clearly exhausted.
"Master!" "Dummy!" The two rushed to Jack Young’s side, standing left and right, concern written all over their faces. "Are you hurt? Did you succeed?"
"No." Jack Young gazed at the long river, then let out a deep sigh: "I’m not hurt, but... I didn’t even force out his real skills. I’m still way too far behind."
"Don’t say that." The Blade Attendant walked over and patted Jack Young’s shoulder, forcing a wry smile. "I barely lasted a second in a head-on clash. If you keep putting yourself down, I’ll be too embarrassed to show my face in the martial world. That guy was just too fast, and dead set on leaving—it’s almost impossible to keep him here. By the way, Jack, did you figure out where he’s from?"
"I made it up."
"Made it up?" The Blade Attendant stared. Jack Young rarely bluffed, but when he did, his delivery was flawless. The Blade Attendant still believed Jack had figured out the black-clad man’s background. He couldn’t accept it: "Then what was all that about revenge from the north? How’d you know he was from up north?"
"The Flower Kingdom’s in the south of Central Plains, and Eight Directions City is even further south. I just took a wild guess about the north to throw him off."
"Jack!" A familiar voice called out. Turning to look, he saw the crowd parting to make way—the Phantom Sword Saint had arrived. The red-clad woman pushed him up to Jack Young; Yan Taixu looked weak, the rough journey clearly taking a toll. Still, he asked with concern, "How did it go?"
Jack Young shook his head, then mused, "I’m guessing that guy’s at least Fourth Heaven innate—a King-level master. Do you know any King-level experts in the martial world who can hide all their usual moves, not show a single tell in a fight? Hiding every signature technique is a skill in itself. From start to finish, maybe he only used a real move for a split second. And that one move nearly took out the Blade Attendant."
"A King-level master?" Yan Taixu frowned. "Any other distinguishing features?"
"He’s insanely fast." If the black-clad man had one standout trait, it was his speed. Not just his movement, but his reaction speed was downright freakish. The Blade Attendant sighed, "Yeah, way too fast for me. I went all out to make an opening, and Jack landed a killer blow, but the guy still blocked it—just on pure reflex. Unreal."
"Oh, and another thing," Jack Young remembered, "he probably doesn’t usually use a sword."
"Doesn’t use a sword?" The Blade Attendant was baffled. After all that sword-fighting, was the guy not even a swordsman?
"Right. He doesn’t have any sword intent." It was a subtle feeling, hard to prove, but Jack Young was sure the black-clad man wasn’t a real swordsman. He probably used some other weapon—something so unique he didn’t even bother bringing it out.
"King-level master, super fast, doesn’t use a sword." Yan Taixu pondered, then shook his head. "There aren’t many King-level masters around, but most fit that description. Not enough to go on."
Fiona Fang chimed in, "Why not draw his figure? Should be easy to find him by his build, right?"
"Nope. King-level masters can change their height and build with muscle and bone techniques. Some can even make a man look like a woman, or vice versa. That’s not reliable at all." Yan Taixu kept his cool. "Jack, if we knew why he tried to assassinate, maybe we’d find a clue."
At that, everyone glanced at the "paper" Jack Young was holding.
This thing wasn’t actually paper. Its texture was incredibly strange—somewhere between silk brocade and gold or jade. Calling it paper was a stretch; it was more like fabric. It felt smooth, cool, and substantial—surprisingly heavy, too, just like jade. Jack had handled the Jade Sword plenty of times, but never sensed anything odd about its weight or balance. That just showed how masterful and mysterious this "fabric" was.
It was more than a foot wide and over two feet long, but the black-clad man had torn it in half—each took a piece. The fabric looked blank at first, but Yan Taixu nodded to the Sword Attendant, who took it and channeled his inner energy—whoosh! It actually lit up.
Like some kind of magic trick, square characters glowed with white light, appearing one after another. The first four big characters lit up, and Fiona Fang read them out loud, one word at a time: "Lianhua Compendium?"
All around, martial artists stared eagerly, ears perked and eyes wide, whispering among themselves: "Lianhua Compendium? Sounds familiar—isn’t that a martial arts manual?" "I think it was written by a legendary master named Wang Lianhua. It covers everything—music, chess, calligraphy, painting, martial arts, you name it. But isn’t it supposed to be a book? Why hide it inside a sword?"
While the crowd wondered, the words on the fabric kept appearing in tiny script. Jack Young and Yan Taixu read ten lines at a glance, then exchanged glances, saying nothing. Fiona Fang read slower, gradually piecing things together.
The beginning of the fabric gave a simple background. Every era has its talents. Long ago, there was a genius named Wang Lianhua—brilliant, a jack-of-all-trades, but not a true specialist, kind of like Su Xinghe. Eventually, he was mentored by a specialist named Shen Lang. Before retiring to the Ten Thousand Islands of the Boundless Sea, Wang Lianhua compiled all his knowledge into a book called the Lianhua Compendium, passed it to the martial world, then sailed off to seclusion.
The Lianhua Compendium did cause a stir in the martial world, but since it was a mixed bag, most people soon forgot about it.
A hundred years passed in a blur. Wang Lianhua returned to the Central Plains, now an old man. Free from the martial world’s chaos and able to focus, his martial arts soared—he became a saint, nearly unrivaled. His broad learning was a burden in youth, but a treasure in old age. Everything came together, making him a master like no other—almost an ancestor of the Free Wanderer sect.
Reflecting on the mistakes and silly bits in his earlier Lianhua Compendium, the elderly Wang Lianhua came out of retirement to rewrite it. Still young at heart and obsessed with collecting rare martial arts, his high-level skills let him track down lost and legendary techniques. He compiled these into many volumes, hiding them away for those destined to find them.
[Miracle Jade Encounter, Nine Lotus Chapters, all within the Miracle Jade. This is the Sword Chapter, containing three sword arts: Ximen Chuixue’s Snowdrift Sword Technique, Ye Gucheng’s Celestial Flying Immortal, and Yan Shisan & Xie Xiaofeng’s Thirteen Deadly Swords. These three sword arts are rare treasures. I went to great lengths to restore them. Each is a peerless sword technique—practitioners, don’t rush or get greedy. Remember, remember.]
"Ximen Chuixue, Ye Gucheng, Yan Shisan, Xie Xiaofeng?" This time, not just Fiona Fang but even Rachel Luo whispered in awe, "Aren’t those all legendary sword masters?" She didn’t say it out loud, but even someone who never reads martial arts novels has heard their names—they’re practically gods in the sword world!
She hurriedly read on and saw detailed records of Ximen Chuixue’s Snowdrift Sword Technique. She skimmed it, understanding nothing, but didn’t linger—next was Celestial Flying Immortal, but only half of it remained. The rest, including the lower half and Thirteen Deadly Swords, had been torn away.
"This thing is priceless!" The red-clad swordswoman was shaken to the core. Just a glance at the Snowdrift Sword Technique stirred her deeply. But Jack Young and Yan Taixu weren’t focused on sword skills—they were looking at a small line of text. Everyone stared, and all at once their minds buzzed:
[Long rumored that the royal sects of the South Wasteland possess a miraculous martial art, very different from those of the Central Plains, full of strange and wondrous effects, called the Wedding Dress Divine Skill. After more than ten years of searching, I finally found its trace—it’s enshrined in the South Wasteland temple. Had I learned it earlier, perhaps I could have defied fate. Alas, my time is short. Martial arts can reach the heavens, and the Wedding Dress Divine Skill truly lives up to its name. The temple is extremely well hidden; a map is attached for those with destiny to seek it out.]
Fiona Fang nearly jumped up—Wedding Dress Divine Skill? A map attached? This is basically a treasure map! Her mother had searched for it for years, the whole family was dragged into disaster and wiped out, and now finally there was a clear clue! But—
There was indeed a map next to the tiny characters, but only a few strokes remained—the rest had been torn away.
"No way!" Fiona Fang couldn’t help flipping the fabric over and over, searching desperately, but no matter how she looked, it was always the same result. Half the treasure map was gone.
"So that’s the reason?" Jack Young wasn’t excited about the martial arts manual—he just gazed out at the vast river, muttering, "Wedding Dress Divine Skill, martial arts reaching the heavens. You came for the Jade Sword to find your path to transcendence. But you worried the old master had figured something out, so you killed him to keep others from stealing the opportunity. If that’s the case, you’ll definitely head to the South Wasteland. Well, we’ll see—I’ll make sure to avenge the old master. Next time we meet, I’ll be stronger."