Song of Everlasting Regret - Chapter 41

The Mad Swordsman’s demand reopened the wounds in Yu Jingqiu’s heart.

Her spirit dimmed.

“Senior thinks too highly of me. The meridians in my right hand have been severed. I can no longer hold a sword, so I cannot become your disciple.”

At those words, the Mad Swordsman seized Yu Jingqiu’s right hand.

She offered no resistance and allowed him to inspect it.

He found the hand powerless and its meridians truly severed.

Yet he did not care in the slightest.

Instead, he grabbed her left hand.

“If your right hand is ruined, you still have your left.”

The Mad Swordsman threw back his head and laughed.

“Excellent! Excellent!

“If someone whose right hand has been crippled can still use my sword art to defeat the Qianyuan Sect, that will prove even more clearly how formidable my techniques are!

“Quickly, kneel! Kneel and take me as your master!”

The Mad Swordsman’s conduct could not be judged by the standards of an ordinary person.

Yu Jingqiu said, “I already belong to a sect. I would never lightly acknowledge another master.

“And even if I were to take another, I would never bow to a cruel, bloodthirsty demon of the Feihua Alliance!”

The Mad Swordsman seemed never to have imagined that anyone would reject him.

His protruding eyes stared blankly at Yu Jingqiu.

After a long while, he recovered, and his expression darkened.

The terrifying murderous aura that had surrounded him on the night of their first meeting descended again, as though all light had suddenly vanished from heaven and earth.

He seized the pulse point of her left wrist and sneered.

“If you refuse to become my disciple, then your left hand is useless to me.

“If you refuse, I will cripple it as well.”

His fingers tightened slightly.

Cold sweat immediately appeared across Yu Jingqiu’s back, and a groan of pain escaped her.

If he applied even a fraction more force, he could crush her bones with his bare hand.

If her left hand were also ruined, she would become completely disabled.

A sudden chill rose from the bottom of her heart.

She could not help feeling afraid.

The Mad Swordsman shouted, “Hurry and acknowledge me as your master!”

Yu Jingqiu drew a breath and endured the pain.

Prepared to die, she gritted her teeth.

“I refuse!”

The anticipated agony of snapping bones and torn tendons never came.

Yu Jingqiu raised her eyelids and saw the madman staring at her with extraordinary brilliance in his eyes.

He called out to her, “Lü Keji.”

“Heaven has not failed me!”

The Mad Swordsman laughed wildly toward the sky.

When he lowered his head, he said to Yu Jingqiu, “You resemble your grandmaster! You resemble him greatly!

“You are exactly to my liking! Hahahaha!”

Seeing the bearing of Lü Keji within Yu Jingqiu made the Mad Swordsman itch with excitement.

Now he was even more determined to accept her as his disciple.

“Today, you will bow whether you wish to or not!”

“I will never acknowledge you! Even if you force me to become your disciple, what use will it be?”

A cow that refused to drink could still have its head forced beneath the water.

The Mad Swordsman paid no attention to her words.

He raised one leg and kicked the acupoint at Yu Jingqiu’s knee.

Her leg bones instantly weakened.

Her right knee dropped involuntarily, tilting her body sideways.

The Mad Swordsman pulled her forward, causing her to fall onto her knees and hands.

Before she could raise her head, he crouched before her and placed a hand upon the back of her skull.

It felt as though a mountain had descended upon her head.

She could not lift it even half an inch.

The Mad Swordsman pressed her head downward.

Her forehead struck the stone floor with a loud knock.

He forced her to kowtow three times in succession.

Once the third bow was complete, he released her and clapped his hands in delight.

“Good! The ceremony is complete. From this moment onward, you are my disciple.”

Yu Jingqiu slowly straightened.

An unnamed fire burned within her chest, scorching her heart black.

Her former life upon Tiger Roar Mountain had been tranquil, comfortable, and smooth.

Now she was handled like a helpless chick, completely incapable of resistance.

No matter how gentle her nature, anger still arose within her.

A proud and noble person might declare their resolve through death.

But whether Yu Jingqiu could successfully take her own life was another matter.

The guilt she carried toward Lang Ye alone would drown her before she could do so.

She did not wish to be controlled, yet she could not die and had no strength to break free.

Miserable and desolate, she could only be manipulated in the end.

The Mad Swordsman unilaterally declared Yu Jingqiu his disciple and kept her within his courtyard.

When Master Yao learned of it, he felt a small amount of regret over losing a test subject but did not attempt to compete with the madman.

One more Yu Jingqiu made no difference to him, nor did one fewer.

There was no reason to face the Mad Swordsman’s deadly blade over a mere subject for testing medicine.

The Mad Swordsman spent his days meditating and studying sword techniques.

Now he also possessed a new diversion—teaching his disciple.

Whether she wished to learn or not, he demonstrated every technique of the Three Poisons Sword Art, moving through the Greed Formula, the Anger Formula, and the Delusion Formula one move at a time.

Whether she listened or not, he recited the internal cultivation method sentence by sentence, beginning with gathering qi in the dantian and circulating it through the extraordinary meridians.

Yu Jingqiu could not leave.

She could only stare vacantly and watch.

She did not wish to learn, but deep within her heart, she genuinely admired the Mad Swordsman.

The Three Poisons Sword Art was strange and endlessly changing, with extraordinary techniques emerging one after another.

Its sword light resembled a cold black shadow, like the Ghost King Zhong Kui wielding a demon-slaying sword.

As the techniques progressed, they became as terrifying as an asura descending into the mortal world, striking fear into the soul.

Such swordsmanship seemed invincible.

Even an army of thousands would struggle to oppose it.

For some unknown reason, Yu Jingqiu felt a mysterious resonance with the sword art.

She understood the intent behind the Anger Formula especially well, almost as though she had personally experienced it.

The sword art contained the Mad Swordsman’s obsessions:

His greed for fame and supremacy.

His anger after defeat.

And his delusion that he must defeat Lü Keji.

Those who pursued Buddhism sought to comprehend the true nature of suffering, cultivate both body and mind, and find a path toward liberation.

They possessed a profound understanding of every form of evil and pain.

Yu Jingqiu thought that perhaps this was why she understood the Mad Swordsman’s sword art so deeply.

She had no idea that the roots of suffering had already begun growing inside her.

Once the Mad Swordsman had taught her enough, he demanded that she spar with him.

Yu Jingqiu was unaccustomed to wielding a sword with her left hand.

The difference between their cultivation was also as vast as heaven and earth, and she refused to use the Three Poisons Sword Art.

Whenever they fought, she struggled to defend herself and rarely lasted more than a few moves.

The Mad Swordsman would become furious and curse her every time.

“Useless! Useless!”

“Idiot! Complete idiot!”

Yu Jingqiu had possessed extraordinary talent since childhood.

Her path through swordsmanship had always been smooth.

Lou Xuanzhi feared her disciples would become arrogant and therefore seldom praised them, but the other martial uncles never withheld their compliments.

Yu Jingqiu had never experienced anything resembling a bottleneck.

Nor had she ever needed to endure long years of accumulation or bitter struggle before achieving success.

It was as though she had been born to hold a sword and destined to stand upon the summit.

She learned sword techniques after seeing them once and immediately understood any sword intent she contemplated.

It had all seemed perfectly natural.

She had never considered what it might feel like to stumble and fall along the path of the sword.

Now that her right hand was crippled, her talent had suffered its first great setback.

Taking up a sword again felt like a lame person attempting to walk.

It was difficult, but not necessarily impossible.

What truly struck her was the Mad Swordsman’s contempt and her inability to execute the Three Poisons Sword Art.

Its techniques were strange and devious, moving completely contrary to the principles of the Qianyuan Sword Art.

First, it was extraordinarily difficult.

Second, it opposed all her established habits of swordsmanship.

Third, she was using her left hand.

Compared with before, she had become unimaginably clumsy.

The Mad Swordsman’s insults caused unwillingness to rise inside her.

It burned through her heart, while her organs seemed to become heavy stones sinking within her chest.

Without realizing it, she clenched her back teeth tightly.

A fierce thought suddenly appeared:

Defeat the Mad Swordsman.

Yu Jingqiu froze.

For an instant, she thought she had seen Lou Jing.

Lou Jing’s words inexplicably echoed beside her ears:

You already have everything, so you never need to fight for anything.

Yu Jingqiu suddenly understood why Lou Jing had always insisted upon competing with her.

It was resistance born from repeated defeat—the primitive human desire to conquer.

Yu Jingqiu had been raised high by reputation and talent.

She had won from the very beginning and received everything without struggling, so she had never needed to compete.

Her desire for victory had consequently faded.

What little remained had been restrained by courtesy and humility, concealed beneath obedience and generosity until she became willing to yield in everything.

Only now had she fallen from the heights.

The fall had been painful and brutal.

Now it was her turn to raise her head and look upward, straining her neck to see the Mad Swordsman standing upon the summit.

Only then did she realize that she was not someone without desires.

She also wished to win.

Greed arose inside her without warning.

Those who pursued Buddhism possessed a deep understanding of evil. But if their hearts were not firm, that very understanding could make them more vulnerable to falling.

Once a single thought arose, she sank deeper and deeper.

Driven beyond endurance, Yu Jingqiu unexpectedly used a technique from the Anger Formula to counterattack.

She remained unaccustomed to exerting force with her left hand, so the technique was stiff and halting.

Yet both its form and spirit were present.

For someone who had only just begun learning, this was exceedingly difficult.

The Mad Swordsman swept it aside with one strike and continued cursing.

“Complete nonsense!”

“Watch carefully!”

He extended his sword.

The blade moved like a black serpent, while his body shifted with incomparable grace.

He demonstrated the technique once more for Yu Jingqiu.

Afterward, they fought again.

If Yu Jingqiu lost after a single exchange, she inevitably received another torrent of abuse.

So it continued day after day, month after month.

Yu Jingqiu could not escape the courtyard.

Nor could she escape the Manor of the Dead.

Apart from practicing swordsmanship, the Mad Swordsman paid no attention to her other affairs.

The strange poison within her body remained untreated.

Its attacks followed no discernible pattern.

Whenever it erupted, her bones became weak and intoxicated, while unbearable itching gnawed at her heart.

It followed her like a shadow, slowly eroding her will.

Even a body forged from steel would eventually be ground into submission.

In her daze, Yu Jingqiu no longer knew how much time had passed.

She only noticed the weather gradually becoming colder.

Then one day, snow began to fall.

Soft flakes filled the sky.

The winter storm was immense and continued for several days, dressing the mountains and forests in new clothing.

A white fur mantle covered everything, transforming the view completely.

Once snow accumulated in the mountains, the roads became difficult to travel.

The suspension bridge was covered in ice and snow, making every step wet, slippery, and treacherous.

Three people walked across the suspension bridge of Caoliu Manor.

The northern wind howled, causing the bridge to sway and creak.

“Coming here in weather like this is truly terrible luck.”

The three walked with one person in front and two behind.

The hands of the person ahead were tied.

His face was gray with terror, and both legs trembled violently as the two behind forced him forward.

They crossed the bridge and entered the Dragon Pit.

Two guards inside the hall were warming themselves beside a fire.

One of the escorts said, “Open the gate.”

The guards examined their tokens and began pulling the chains.

The metallic clanging echoed through the hall.

With little to occupy them during winter, one guard asked, “Brother, what crime did this man commit?”

One escort laughed.

“He offended Young Master Liu.”

“What did he do to anger Young Master Liu so badly?”

“This fool coveted Young Master Liu’s woman. Tell me, doesn’t he deserve to die?”

The gatekeeper laughed at the prisoner’s ignorance and began casually discussing other affairs within the manor.

His hands continued dragging the circular iron gate, which weighed more than a thousand catties, but his attention was focused entirely upon the conversation.

The “gate” slowly opened.

Beams of light descended into the pit.

Compared with the daylight outside, the light was dim.

But within the Dragon Pit—the dark nest of ten thousand snakes—it was dazzlingly bright.

The light illuminated a vague figure.

She raised her head.

Her long black hair was wet and slightly curled, hanging loose and concealing her brows and eyes.

Only cold, pale skin could be seen beneath it.

When the gate had opened wide enough for a person’s waist to pass through, she gathered her qi and shot upward like an arrow released from its string.

She pushed against the rock wall once, increasing her speed.

A black shadow flew directly through the partly opened gate.

Like a raven’s feather, it landed lightly upon the floor.

The men had still been talking.

Only after the figure appeared did they realize what had happened.

The two gatekeepers stood frozen, completely forgetting how to react.

Where had this ghostlike person come from?

Ah, yes.

She had flown out from the bottom of the Dragon Pit.

But the pit was filled entirely with poisonous snakes—countless vicious serpents.

How could anyone thrown inside possibly survive?

Moreover, nearly half a year had passed since they last cast someone into it.

Yet this was undoubtedly a living person.

The survivor was Lou Jing, who had been thrown into the Dragon Pit half a year earlier.

Cold sweat covered both gatekeepers.

Their eyes widened with shock and disbelief.

While they remained frozen, the two escorts cried out.

The gatekeepers felt a wave of hot wind rush toward their faces.

By the time their senses returned and they realized something was wrong, it was already too late to defend themselves.

Each received a palm strike to the chest.

The force drove directly into their organs.

They immediately felt a raging fire ignite within them, as though their insides had been submerged in molten rock.

They released piercing screams that twisted and faded away.

Both collapsed heavily, their eyes bulging as they died upon the spot.

The two escorts thrust their swords forward.

Lou Jing darted to the left and hooked one gatekeeper’s saber upward with her foot.

She wielded the saber as though it were a sword, weaving a dense net of blades that descended over them.

One escort could not withstand her.

Lou Jing suddenly closed the distance, and her palm wind struck his shoulder.

Scorching energy entered his bones.

He groaned in pain and dropped his sword.

Lou Jing followed with another palm.

Without his companion’s assistance, the remaining man quickly fell into disadvantage.

Lou Jing used the force of Dormant Dragon and attacked directly.

The man’s eyes widened.

Blood poured from his neck, and he died instantly.

Within moments, four corpses had been added to the hall.

The prisoner who had been brought there shrank behind a pillar.

Tears and mucus covered his face as he stared at Lou Jing while trembling violently, terrified that she might turn and walk toward him.

Instead, the woman threw away the saber and picked up a sword.

She stripped the clothing from one of the escorts and put it on, then took his command token and waist plaque.

Without looking back, she walked outside.