Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Bearded Immortal Li Yuanhua

“Ancestor! Ancestor!”
Someone was shouting from the ground.
The voice came from the drunken Jiao Bridge, near the northern end. When Hong Changbao looked down, he saw a dozen Miao people, among whom were several from Hong Family Village.
The people from Hong Family Village were easy to recognize. The village was named after the Hong River, and the Miao who lived there bore the surname Hong because they dwelled at the river’s source. They upheld a tradition: carving the image of a jiao on their faces, symbolizing the suppression of floods.
Some even claimed this was precisely why the Red-haired Ancestor favored Hong Changbao more than his senior disciple Yao Kaijiang.
For now, though, Hong Changbao was filled with dread. Those fools—how could they call him “Ancestor” right in front of their master, the Red-haired Ancestor? Did they think life in the village had been too comfortable lately?
He made a casual clawing gesture, and those few Miao from Hong Family Village at the bridgehead were lifted into the air, set down upon a drifting red cloud.
The group tumbled onto the cloud. Hong Changbao hurriedly asked,
“You called out for the Ancestor just now. Did you glimpse his immortal presence? Speak if you have something to say.”
These villagers weren’t complete idiots; they quickly knelt and bowed to the Red-haired Ancestor, crying,
“Greetings to the Ancestor! We pay our respects!”
The Red-haired Ancestor, just as the legends described, doted on his own followers. Even these low-ranking disciples and descendants were treated kindly. He asked,
“What is it that made you call out here?”
Among them was a man named Yue Shan Hong, one of those just saved by the cloud’s power. He wailed,
“Ancestor! Today we descendants were vying for position at the western mouth of Rotten Peach Mountain with the little demons of Hundred Barbarians Mountain when suddenly bandit priests from Western Shu ambushed us from behind, slaughtering many—most of us are dead or wounded!
“We fled and gathered reinforcements, returning to the valley to recover our brothers’ bodies. There, Daoist Cheng Qieqing, a guest staying at Green Dragon Cave, went with us to search for the corpses. In the valley, we ran into more Shu Daoists, one wielding a strange flying sword. We descendants were ashamed—utterly outmatched.
“It was Daoist Cheng who came to our rescue. To let us escape, he held off several foes alone. Now we have made it out alive, but that righteous Daoist remains in the valley. We beg the Ancestor to work his immortal arts and save him!”
He rattled off his account, then bowed repeatedly on the cloud, as did the others.
The Red-haired Ancestor was somewhat surprised and looked to Liu Tianfang.
The Daoist from Tianfang House flew closer, his face grave, and said in a low voice,
“Senior, this man was my guest at Green Dragon Cave, vouched for by me. I came here to find him. He is from the east, a disciple of the Three Pure Ones Mountain!”
The Red-haired Ancestor’s brows arched. Suddenly he declared,
“Your request is justified. That righteous Daoist risked his life for my disciples and is a guest of Green Dragon Cave. I shall go to his aid myself. Daoist Tianfang, will you accompany me?”
Liu Tianfang, seeing the surging, newly formed baleful energy, knew he might not last long inside with his own skills. Now that the Red-haired Ancestor proposed to take him along, he naturally agreed at once.
“You lot, stop putting on this act!”
The Green-robed Ancestor sneered. “You’ve thrown together a script so quickly, but no matter how fancy your words, you won’t be the first to enter the baleful mist!”
This was a newly-born baleful domain—who knew what treasures it might contain? Moreover, whoever entered first to scout out the situation would have the advantage in mining the baleful energy and dividing the territory later. The Green-robed Ancestor had no intention of letting anyone else go first.
“Are you proposing we settle this by force?”
The Red-haired Ancestor barked.
“If that’s what it takes, so be it. Let’s see who’s stronger!”
No one knew how many years these two had been rivals. No sooner were the words spoken than the fight broke out—they leapt onto the clouds and vanished, the sky above churning with spiritual power, winds and fire intertwining, growls echoing through the air.
Below, Hong Changbao and Xin Chenzi squared off as well, each blocking the other from entering the baleful domain.
At some point, Liu Tianfang produced a command talisman and shot it eastward. Xin Chenzi, seeing this, smirked coldly.
“Neither Ancestor has claimed victory. No matter how many you call, it’s useless. And if it comes to summoning reinforcements, Hundred Barbarians Mountain is hardly afraid of you!”
As the standoff continued, a sword light shot from the northwest, swift as a hurricane, shattering the clouds.
As it neared, the light resolved into a burly man in a purple Daoist robe. His appearance was wild, with a full beard and spiky short hair, as if he had just emerged from a sea of thunder. On his back he carried an enormous, half-man-tall, dark-gold gourd. The moment he landed in midair, the aura of a grandmaster radiated from him.
“Li Yuanhua!”
Hong Changbao and Xin Chenzi cried out simultaneously, both recognizing the newcomer at a glance as the Bearded Immortal of Emei, Li Yuanhua—their frequent adversary in the southwest.
“Well, this is a lively scene!”

Li Yuanhua gazed at the surging baleful energy, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. What he had thought would be a dull errand had unexpectedly led him to a newly-born baleful domain—he would not miss his share for anything.
Seeing the two sides on the verge of violence, Li Yuanhua laughed and said,
“Fellow Daoists, don’t misunderstand. Hear me out: my junior nephew has somehow stumbled into this newly-formed baleful domain and sent word for my help. I ask only that you allow me passage to rescue him!”
“So it was your Emei who ambushed my disciples from behind!”
Hong Changbao already detested Emei and loathed their coveting of the new domain. Now, hearing the man’s nephew was under Rotten Peach Mountain, he easily guessed he was the very bandit priest who had ambushed the Red Wood Ridge disciples. His rage boiled over, and he hurled a blood-red flying dagger straight at Li Yuanhua.
Xin Chenzi, hearing Li Yuanhua’s words, began to believe what the Red Wood Ridge underlings had said. But today, no matter what righteous or bandit Daoists were trapped inside, none would enter under the pretext of rescue!
Seeing Hong Changbao attack first, Xin Chenzi was delighted. If anyone hated Emei more than anyone else in the world, it was Hundred Barbarians Mountain. His eyes flashed as he shouted,
“So it’s your junior who ambushed my Hundred Barbarians Mountain disciples! Daoist Changbao, let me help you!”
With that, Xin Chenzi shook his empty sleeve, sending out a cloud of miasma—a blend of peach-mud and shadow-wind miasmas, his own concoction: Clear Breeze Peach Fragrance Miasma!
Li Yuanhua, seeing the two attack, burst into laughter. “Just as expected—sideways and demonic sects always band together. But even if both of you come at me, I, Li Yuanhua, have no fear!”
He slapped the gourd on his back. Its mouth opened of its own accord, releasing a surge of sword light.
At the heart of that light was a flying sword gleaming bright as silver, though the radiance was so intense its true form was hard to discern.
Once released, the flying sword’s light swelled, trailing dazzling streams as it sped through the air, like a comet with a blazing tail.
When the sword darted and weaved, it was like a white dragon in flight, or a waterfall riding the wind—utterly mesmerizing.
The flying sword first struck down the blood dagger, then parted the poisonous miasma, multiplying into myriad blades. Though facing two foes at once, Li Yuanhua was not at all disadvantaged.
When one recalled how the sword “Peach Capital” looked in the hands of Li Yingqiong or Cheng Yunqi, it could only be described as a mere firebrand compared to this.