Sword God Legend

page views:1 Publication date:2023-05-02

The way of the sword lies in sincerity; only with a sincere and righteous heart can one reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship. I began learning swordsmanship at the age of seven and mastered it in seven years. After ten years of arduous training, I finally reached the realm of invincibility. But who understands the pain and sorrow I endured during those ten years of practice? Who understands the grief and loneliness of invincibility?
I am the Sword God—Ximen Chuixue.
Chapter One: Childhood
I have no particular memories of my childhood before the age of seven. The most vivid scene in my mind is the night of the massacre of my Ximen family.
Our Ximen family was actually a long-established bakery in the capital, with a history of over a hundred years passed down through generations. My father, after inheriting the business from my grandfather, worked diligently and within a few years became the richest man in the capital. I was the only son in the family, with only one older sister. My sister was sixteen years old, breathtakingly beautiful, and a renowned beauty in the capital. Countless suitors came every day, drawn by our family's wealth or my sister's beauty, but she rejected them all.
The main reason she refused to marry was because of me. Since my mother died in childbirth, my sister had taken on the role of mother, diligently caring for me, so we had a very close relationship from childhood. Sadly, this deep affection later became a painful memory.
On New Year's Eve when I was seven, our whole family gathered for our annual reunion dinner. This was a grand event for the Ximen family, with nearly a hundred people, including servants and maids, gathered together. We celebrated the new year as a family, sharing the fruits of our labor—it was truly exciting. Sadly, no one could have imagined that this meal would be the Ximen family's last.
Just as everyone was joyfully enjoying their reunion dinner, the front door was suddenly kicked open violently. In a short time, dozens of tall, burly men rushed in, easily subduing all the men in the house. In the chaos, my father pushed me into the hidden compartment for refuge, while he fought the bandits. Ultimately, he was no match for the skilled bandits; with a single swing of his cauldron, their bloodied heads rolled to the ground. The bandits slaughtered all the men in the house, while the maids were subjected to various forms of abuse. Ten of the bandits, seemingly the leaders, held my sister aside and frantically tore off her clothes. One of the leaders, impatiently, thrust his penis into my sister's virginity.
"I never thought I'd have the chance to taste the Ximen family's great beauty," the bandit said excitedly as he raped my sister. His vile penis thrust in and out of her tender orifice, virgin blood flowing down his penis to the ground. My sister helplessly writhed and struggled, but she could not escape her tragic fate of being defiled.
Satisfied, the bandits withdrew their penises from my sister's vagina, and strands of white semen slowly flowed from her tender opening. A second bandit immediately pressed down on her body. I peered through the hidden compartment at this hellish scene. More and more bandits joined in the abuse of my sister, while her struggles and resistance grew weaker until she could only helplessly allow the bandits to ravage her once-pure body.
The tragedy continued for over an hour, until all the bandits had completely satisfied their desires. My sister lay on the ground, barely alive, her snow-white body covered in the bandits' semen, especially her lower body, which was a complete mess. Blood continued to gush from her vagina, showing the severe damage she had suffered.
I waited until all the bandits had left before emerging from the hidden compartment. I held my dying sister in my arms, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. Seeing that I was unharmed, my sister breathed a sigh of relief. She gently stroked my tear-streaked face, instructing me to go to Guangdong to find my uncle and plan for my future, before calmly leaving me.
I felt her delicate body grow cold in my arms, my heart filled with boundless rage and hatred. Ignoring her words, I picked up a long sword in the hall and followed the hoofprints in front of the door, tracking down those damned bandits.
I chased them for three days and three nights without sleep, food, or drink, finally collapsing in the boundless forest. As I felt my senses slowly fading, the thought of seeing my father and sister again after death filled me with a strange sense of anticipation.
But fate is often so mysterious. When you deliberately seek death, death often evades you. In the instant I was about to collapse, I felt myself being lifted up by a pair of strong arms. The man who rescued me used his movement technique, and I felt a gust of wind behind my head, like a bird soaring in the sky. My mind relaxed, and I fell into a deep sleep, only knowing that my life had been fortunately saved.
The second time
, a golden opportunity. On the verge of death, I felt my body fluctuating between hot and cold, as if my soul was about to leave my body. But whenever I faced the edge of death, a warm hand would always be there to support my back, and a gentle warmth would flow from the palm into my body, coursing through my limbs. I vaguely knew that someone was using profound skills to help me fight off the illness, but having lost my will to live, my recovery was extremely slow.
When I was fully recovered, it was already ten days later. I left the sickbed where I had shivered for ten days, feeling only unbearable hunger. I saw a bowl of warm rice porridge beside my bed and couldn't help but thank the host for his care. As I finished eating and stepped outside, the sun rose in the east. Following the morning sunlight, I walked towards the garden and saw a tall, thin middle-aged man tending to his potted plants in the distance. I knew immediately that this must be the savior who had saved my life.
Even when I was still several hundred paces away, his gentle voice reached my ears: "Young man, are you finally cured?" I was stunned. He had been carrying me on his back, yet he had sensed my approach from such a distance. Moreover, his voice was neither too warm nor too cold, as if it were right next to my ear, fully demonstrating his profound skill.
Unexpectedly, I walked up to the man and knelt respectfully. "Ximen Chuixue thanks you for saving my life, senior. May I ask your esteemed name?"
The man turned around, and in an instant, I felt his sharp gaze sweep over me. He continued, "It's nothing, just a small matter. My friends in the martial world know I'm a heavy drinker, so they call me the Drunken Sword Immortal. Over time, I've even forgotten my real name."
I knew that some reclusive martial arts masters preferred to remain anonymous, so I didn't press the matter further.
The Sword Immortal watered the bonsai tree and said to me, "Young brother, why have you been running around the mountains without sleep, carrying a sharp sword, until you've caught a chill?"
"Senior, please just call me Chuixue." I was grateful that the man before me had expended years of arduous training to save me, and I couldn't help but recount the tragedy of my family's massacre.
After hearing my story, the senior sighed, "Chuixue, do you have a place to stay?"
His tone softened, and I knew that if I could learn even a single move from him, revenge would be within reach. So I hurriedly said, "Chuixue has nowhere to go. Please, senior, take me as your disciple!"
The senior turned away, looking at me coldly, his sharp gaze seeming to see through my intentions. "I think your deceased family would have wanted you to live a happy life, not a life of endless bloodshed in the martial world."
I knew this opportunity was fleeting, so I pleaded again, "From the moment my family was massacred, happiness was destined to be out of my reach. Chuixue begs senior to grant my request."
The senior carefully considered my sincerity, and finally said helplessly, "Since you insist on becoming my disciple, Chuixue, you must undergo a test. There is a tavern at the foot of the mountain, five kilometers from here. Go there and fetch ten catties of Daughter's Red wine for me. You have one hour." He then gave me enough silver for six months and turned to go back inside.
Carrying ten pounds of weight up and down a ten-kilometer mountain path is a difficult feat even for an adult, and I knew my senior wanted me to give up and return to a happy life. But the thought of my sister, raped to death, and my father, whose head was severed while trying to save me, reignited the burning passion in my veins. Knowing it was futile, I still insisted on doing it.
Finally, before the one-hour deadline, I returned to the house, covered in wounds and carrying ten pounds of fine wine. My senior, observing my fighting spirit and determination, finally understood my persistence. He helped the exhausted man up and said, "Very good, Fubuki, you certainly have the potential to become a first-rate swordsman. From now on, you will follow me!"
I sensed the expectations and painstaking efforts my senior had always had for me, and knew that he was perhaps the third person to treat me kindly after my father and sister passed away. I couldn't help but kneel down sincerely, call him "Master," and respectfully perform the apprenticeship ceremony.

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