Everlasting Sword God - Chapter 1

[Chapter 1: Third Young Master Shen]

The most romantic swordsman in the world is called Third Young Master Shen.

The most famous swordsmanship in the world is called Wanzang Sword Classic.

The most powerful and mysterious place in the world is Abandoned Sword Villa.

The Wanzang Sword Sutra is the secret technique of Abandoned Sword Villa, and the third son of Shen is the young master of Abandoned Sword Villa.

Third Young Master Shen started practicing swordsmanship at the age of four and two months, and at the age of seven he was able to study the Wanzang Sword Sutra. At the age of eleven, his swordsmanship was small, and he fought against the Taoist Yu of the Shangqing Palace, attacking 185 swords in a row, making the martial arts master, famous for his fast swords, unable to counterattack.

Daoist Yu conceded defeat and marveled that he was a “peerless genius”.

At the age of fourteen, the third son of Shen surpassed the swordsman Zuo Tianxing of the top ten masters with his majestic and dignified Jujue Ancient Sword Six Forms.

——An overly young first swordsman.

Countless people are mad with jealousy, but few dare to challenge his sword. Because everyone understands that the nine secluded places are thousands of miles away, and no one can match the talent of the third son of Shen in swordsmanship, and no one can stop his brilliant swordsmanship like a peacock opening its screen.

He is the dragon among men.

Some people say that Third Young Master Shen’s cultivation has already caught up with the ancestors who created Abandoned Sword Villa 300 years ago.

Some people say that although he has not surpassed it yet, in less than ten years, he will definitely reach a realm that no sages of all dynasties can reach.

——It is even possible to achieve the legendary martial arts extreme.

——Zhanyue Feixian, step through the void!

“It’s a pity that there are unforeseen circumstances…”

“Nine months ago, the third son of Shen and the world’s number one master, Mozong Minyiren, had a decisive battle on Chiri Island. Although he exhausted the changes in his swordsmanship and pierced the opponent’s throat within a hundred strokes, he was also ineffective. The second’s annihilation of demonic energy has broken 19 meridians in the body. The third son’s life is not in danger, but his peerless martial arts has been put into water, which is the biggest regret of the current martial arts.”

The middle-aged man who explained the deeds of Third Young Master Shen let out a long sigh, with an expression of incomparable pain on his face.

The boys and girls gathered in front of the Abandoned Sword Mountain Villa exclaimed, and some girls even cried. They came for their idols, and they didn’t expect to hear such bad news.

The ancient brass cast sword more than ten feet high stood quietly at the gate, and a thick shadow rolled up under the setting sun, enveloping the crowd.

There seemed to be the sound of muffled thunder rolling and rumbling on the horizon, and the black-colored darkness began to print in the western sky, and it would probably rain soon.

Today is the second day of the second lunar month, Jingzhe.

This is the big day when Abandoned Sword Villa opens and closes every ten years, recruits outstanding disciples of various sects and sects, and spreads kendo.

I don’t know how many people traveled thousands of miles, just to see the third son of Shen. However, things are right and wrong, and the three-hundred-year-old ancient sword mountain gate of Abandoned Sword Villa is still there, but this young peerless swordsman does not know where to go.

“Is Third Young Master Shen no longer in the village?”

“I heard that he only retreats in the back mountain, but no one has seen him for a long time.”

“Will he give us a lesson or two?”

“As long as I can see him once, I’ll be willing to die immediately!”

The boys and girls whispered, and their eyes were secretly cast on the misty white pagoda in the clouds behind the mountains.

Where are the three sons? Almost every newcomer has this question in mind.

Only in this mountain, the depths of clouds do not know where.

***

late at night.

The mountains behind are all silent.

The turbulent sea tides under the cliffs during the day have ceased, and there is a quiet sleep.

At this time of early spring, the chill was still unabated, there was still remnant snow on the top of the mountain, and only the green pines and cypresses that did not wither stand proudly. Shen Zhenyi sat quietly in a wooden wheelchair, looking up at the moon eye hanging in the air as large as a roulette wheel, her robe vibrating in the cold night wind.

The moonlight is as clear as water.

He is the third son of Abandoned Sword Villa, and to this day, he is still only a seventeen-year-old boy.

Shen Zhenyi is tall and tall, with delicate facial features, a high nose bridge, and the inner light of divine light in his eyes, as if he has read all kinds of expressions in the world. He usually wears white clothes, his body is spotless, and there is no trace of decadence.

There was a small red clay stove in front of Shen Zhenyi. The teapot on the stove was gurgling with white gas, and the lid of the purple clay pot was shaking slightly. A scroll of scriptures was spread out on the grass at his feet, and the pages were flowing with a faint yellow light. This is silk paper woven from celestial silk, which can be passed down for thousands of years without being hurt by water or fire.

If it weren’t for this vision, probably no one would have guessed that this scroll that was randomly discarded on the ground was the supreme martial arts collection that everyone in the world dreamed of—

– “Wan Zang Sword Sutra”.

The manuscript in Shen Zhenyi’s hands is not an ordinary manuscript, but the original manuscript of Abandoned Sword Villa that has been handed down for 300 years. It was written by Shen Mengtian, the creator of the villa. However, it was just thrown at your feet like a piece of worthless waste paper.

The pages of the Sword Sutra are full of traces of smearing, and there is even a line drawing of a beauty in the margin of the second page. Although there are only a few strokes, he is charming and romantic, and his writing skills are really good. It is the masterpiece left by his occasional naughty heart.

The ancestors of the Shen family saw that he wasted such a waste of time-honored treasures, and wondered if they would jump out of the coffin in anger.

Shen Zhenyi seemed to take it for granted and didn’t feel anything wrong.

He had been sitting still, thinking deeply. Until the moon’s eye rose to the middle of the sky, the teapot made a sharp whistling sound.

The water finally opened.

Shen Zhenyi lazily stretched out his hand to lift the teapot, and with a flick of his wrist, a silver waterline shot out from the spout of the pot, and fell into the black-glazed rabbit in the distance, immediately splashing pearl-like white foam. The tea fragrance is overflowing and refreshing.

Tea is a tribute to the snow buds before the Ming Dynasty, and a tael is worth thousands of gold.

The pear-flower-wood case on which the tea cups were placed was more than two feet away from Shen Zhenyi’s wheelchair. The boiling water cooled naturally as it flew through the air, and the temperature was just right when it fell into the cup. It will neither damage the color and taste of the tender tea, nor will the tea not be brewed due to the coldness, and the aroma will not be fully emitted.

If this trick is seen by the tea master, it will be amazing. But if you want to use this trick to brew a wonderful tea flavor, you must first practice the miraculous martial arts like the third son of Shen. How many people can achieve this kind of exquisite control that does not leak a drop of water at a distance of two feet?

Shen Zhenyi put down the teapot, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the fragrance of tea in his breath in a very short time. When the scent faded away, he slowly pushed the wheelchair to the front of the coffee table, bent down with his sleeves and stretched out his long white fingers to hold the hot teacup, ready to drink.

His movements are calm and elegant, and every move seems to contain the profound and profound principles of heaven and earth, which is pleasing to the eye and thoughtful.

There are rumors in the rivers and lakes that the charm of the peerless swordsmanship can be experienced from every action of the third son of Shen.

In the eyes of those who know swordsmanship, his back is a brilliant swordsmanship — Jiankuang Zuo Tianxing once commented.

Sudden!

Shen Zhenyi seemed to notice something, and his movements stagnant slightly.

The momentary unnaturalness destroys the beauty of coherence and flowing water, making people unhappy.

A gray-yellow leaf was blowing from somewhere, fluttering and flying towards Shen Zhenyi, and it was about to hit him on the shoulder. But when he entered the three-foot range of his body, he only heard a light sound. The leaves seemed to be swept by a sharp sword, and were divided into two neat and uniform pieces along the leaf stem, and the dust fell obliquely in a whirl.

Shen Zhenyi watched this scene and sighed softly: “Come out! Your murderous intention is already revealed, you can’t hide it.”

He faced the deepest darkness.

Even if he lost his true energy as rumored, the murderous sword intent was as bright as a torch in the dark night in Shen Zhenyi’s eyes. How could he be able to hide it from him?

But the mountain was still silent, and no one answered.

A bird that lost its nest rustled from the bushes, rushed into the night with a whimper, and soon disappeared without a trace.

“Since nine months ago, the Houshan White Pagoda, which is usually inaccessible, has been assassinated three times a month on average. Don’t you find it annoying?”

Shen Zhenyi’s voice was calm, as if it had nothing to do with him.