Legend of the Great Saint-Chapter 61

Li Qingshan finally understood why the green bull only showed contempt for that little knife firing off spiritual light in every direction, and was even dismissive of the Soaring Dragon Sword ordinary people saw as a divine weapon. They were indeed bottom level goods compared to genuine spiritual weapons.

If Xiong Xiangwu had used this spiritual weapon, then the one to die here today would have been him. But how could ordinary martial artists see the spiritual light. The antiques and paintings here hadn’t been gathered by an uncouth fellow like Xiong Xiangwu anyway. It had been that second master dressed up as a scholar who’d noticed that this calligraphy was a little out of the ordinary. But where precisely it was out of the ordinary, he couldn’t have said.

Even if they could see it was unusual, an martial artist’s internal strength was entirely unable of using spiritual weapons. Xiong Xiangwu had to bite his tongue to use the talisman, only prompting it with his blood. Moreover, once rolled this scroll didn’t leak out the slightest shred of spiritual light. Only then did Li Qingshan obtain this benefit at their expense.

The green bull said: “This spiritual weapon doesn’t seem complete, it’s just a part of it.”

Li Qingshan took a look. Indeed, many strokes were interrupted at the edge, as if the scroll had been cut off by someone.

The green bull’s vision was out of the ordinary: “This spiritual weapon doesn’t look like it’s been refined intentionally, but more like conveniently drawn on the spot, blending sword qi and sword might on the tip of the brush to rouse the sword qi. If you are of a mind to, it might even be possible to comprehend a set of sword art from it. Also, ordinary spiritual weapons would all be ruined once they’re cut off. The one who penned this calligraphy really has some abilities.”

Li Qingshan knew well the green bull’s temperament. Its bullishness and arrogance was always soaring to the sky. Saying “has some abilities” was already an extraordinary assessment, so he closely examined this calligraphy even more carefully, trying to comprehend a sword technique from within.

He originally thought that since Shi Potian, with his illiterate status, could comprehend the that even the crowd of heroes from the martial world couldn’t figure out1, then it was only right for a semi-illiterate like him to have some advantages. But he looked back and forth and came up empty-handed, only feeling that the scroll was more imposing the more he looked at it. He could only give up.

Little An stared at the scroll, his blood flames flickering without pause. He suddenly picked up a painting scroll from the ground and started moving as if dancing. A sudden gale rose in the treasure room, the rolled scroll carrying a blur with it as it emitted the “sou sou” sound of breaking through the air. It seemed that what Little An held in his hand wasn’t a painting scroll, but a genuine treasured sword.

The appearance of a small skeleton holding a scroll and randomly moving about should originally have been strange and funny. But in Li Qingshan’s eyes, he could faintly see an elegant sword knight dancing with his sword, drawing to the four sides. He couldn’t help mumbling to himself: “Children’s fairy tales are all lies.”

What illiterates can learn martial arts faster, it’s all nonsense!

The green bull threw a sidelong glance to Li Qingshan and said clicking its tongue: “Perception!”

Li Qingshan thought that his own perception wasn’t that bad. He also progressed at a divine pace in the cultivation of his , and he’d even been praised by the green bull. If the problem wasn’t with him, then he could only say that Little An’s comprehension was high enough to go against the heavens. Of course, maybe it was also because he understood the calligraphy.

Little An finished dancing the last move and firmly took his sword back. The scroll disintegrated inch by inch, becoming fine powder. Then he looked in Li Qingshan’s direction. Although he couldn’t even make any expression, the blood flames clearly twinkled with a “hurry up and praise me” mood.

Li Qingshan rubbed his skeleton head: “Really smart!”

Little An rejoiced immediately. He saw that Li Qingshan had suffered a bit of a psychological blow, and wrote in his palm: “I’ll teach you!”

Li Qingshan smiled: “Alright then, looks like there’s a lot of things I have to learn. However let’s find a new home for you first!” He found a thick porcelain jar among those antique vases. He weighed it: “It seems too small.”

Little An split into separate bones and flew inside with a “Hua La La.” Li Qingshan jumped in fright. He looked inside the jar. A small skeleton, a bunch of blood flames happened to be watching him, full of expression.

Alright then, he originally thought that bringing up a small ghost was already weird enough, now it looked stranger and stranger. He said a “Good night!” and sealed the porcelain jar.

Li Qingshan lifted the jar and stuffed the silver notes into his bosom. He only brought this painting scroll outside. Then he closed this secret chamber once again. Finally he found some oil and sprinkled it on every building except the granary and the warehouse, then released a great fire.

Since ancient times, murder and arson were originally two peas in a pod already.

The fire spread fast even under the windy snow, and a great patch of fire soared in the space of a moment, shining Li Qingshan’s cheeks flush red.

Then Li Qingshan splashed oil and wine on the mountain of corpses. He couldn’t know if someone else would be able to see some clues on those corpses whose blood essence had been absorbed by Little An, so he might as well set them on fire.

On the mountain path, the bandit-punishing troops finally neared the Black Wind Camp after a difficult journey through the night.

The horizon suddenly shone with a crimson red light just when Sick Yellow Tiger was thinking they were too late. His heart jumped: “Could it be?” He ordered immediately: “Speed up the march!”

Sick Yellow Tiger stared blankly as they crossed over a mountain ridge. Liu Hong also stared blankly, and even everyone who’d rushed over the mountain ridge together with them were speechless.

The insufferably arrogant and famously vicious Black Wind Camp was burning in raging flames at this moment, burning into a sea of fire.

“Could it be that all of this was done by that man alone?” This question rose in everyone’s mind.

After the astonishment, the troops rushed with the fastest speed down the mountain ridge and reached the front of the Black Wind Camp. They crossed hesitatingly through the broken gates, then they saw a scene they would definitely be unable to forget their whole lives.

Amidst a sea of fire, the great snow on the open area had been dyed bright red by the blood and the flames, with every kind of broken weapons stuck within. Li Qingshan sat recuperating in the center. Behind him was a burning mountain of corpses.

Four or five hundred men halted their steps. Sick Yellow Tiger and Liu Hong were no exception. This young man’s body radiated a lofty aura that made people no dare to approach, just like a demon god.

Li Qingshan opened his eyes: “You came!” Two raging blazes reflected into his clear eyes, but it gave off the feeling that the raging blaze was burning forth from the bottom of his heart.

No one answered him!

Li Qingshan killed people and also released fires, and he also experimented with supernatural weapons. He’d cleanly exhausted his body’s mental energy, stamina, and true qi, and he’d felt a burst of deep fatigue as soon as he’d sat down, so he simply sat and rested. Inside this sea of fire, this empty spot was precisely the best place to let him rest. Even he himself never expected that he’d give other people such a shock.

As an ordinary person, Ye Dachuan actually didn’t sense as many things as Sick Yellow Tiger and Liu Hong. He went forward and said, “You… you did all this?” From beginning to end, his gaze didn’t dare to stop on the mountain of corpses behind Li Qingshan. The blazing hot sensation, the smell of grilled flesh, all of it made his head spin and his eyes dizzy.

Li Qingshan nodded and bounced up with a leap. “Li Qingshan leveled the Black Wind Camp herein. He didn’t betray his commitment to the ordinary people of Crouching Bull Village, to my lord, and to himself!”

Sick Yellow Tiger and Liu Hong noticed those many crossbows among the weapons scattered on the ground. They had the best understanding of those things’ fearfulness.

What’s this martial arts that gave him this kind of energy in the end! Liu Hong searched his heart and knew he couldn’t do the same as Li Qingshan. Even if those mountain bandits didn’t move an iota and were neatly arranged in line to let him hit, he would still be worn out. Not even mentioning that the bandits were holding every kind of weapons, and there were also many masters standing guard to boot.

Liu Hong’s gaze fell on the gourd at Li Qingshan’s hips, believing he had guessed something, but he quickly moved his eyes away after crossing Li Qingshan’s gaze.

1. Reference to the wuxia novel Ode to Gallantry by Jin Yong. Shi Potian is the main character, while the Ode to Gallantry is a set of martial arts in this story. No one could decipher the manual because the secret was in the brush strokes and not the words, until Shi Potian the illiterate came along.