A Brief Biography of Sword God Ximen Chuixue

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I have few vivid memories of my childhood before the age of seven. The most profound 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. My father had worked diligently since inheriting the business from my grandfather, and within just a few years, he 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, and her beauty was beyond compare; she was a renowned beauty in the capital. Every day, countless men came to propose marriage, either because they coveted our family's wealth or because they were attracted to my sister's beauty, but she rejected them all.

The main reason my sister refused to marry was because of me. Since my mother died in childbirth, my sister had taken on the role of a mother, taking care of me diligently, so we had a particularly close relationship since childhood. Unfortunately, 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,

coming together to celebrate the new year and share the fruits of their labor – a truly exciting occasion.

Sadly, no one could have imagined that this meal would be the Ximen family's last.

Just as everyone was joyfully enjoying their dinner, the front door was suddenly kicked open violently.

In a flash, dozens of tall, burly men rushed in, easily subduing all the men in the house. In the chaos, my father pushed me into a hidden compartment for refuge, while he fought the bandits. Ultimately, he was no match for the skilled mountain bandits; with a single swing of his cauldron, a bloodied head rolled to the ground. The bandits slaughtered all the men in the house, while the maids were subjected to various forms of assault. Ten bandits, seemingly the leaders, pinned my sister aside and frantically tore off her clothes. One of the leaders, impatient, thrust his penis into her virginity.

"I never thought I'd have the chance to taste the Ximen family's beauty," one of the bandits said excitedly, his vile penis thrusting in and out of her tender vagina. Virgin blood flowed down his penis and onto the ground. My sister helplessly writhed and struggled, but she couldn't escape her tragic fate of being violated.

Satisfied, the bandits withdrew their penises from my sister's vagina, and a trickle of white semen slowly flowed from her tender vagina. A second bandit immediately pressed down on her body. I peered through a hidden compartment at this hell on earth. More and more people joined in the abuse of my sister, while her struggles and resistance grew weaker and weaker until finally, she could only let the bandits ravage her once pure body.

The tragedy lasted 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 mess, with blood constantly gushing from her vagina, indicating severe damage.

I didn't emerge from the secret compartment until all the bandits had left. I held my dying sister in my arms, tears streaming uncontrollably down my face. My sister breathed a sigh of relief when she saw I was unharmed. She peacefully stroked my tear-streaked face, telling me to go to Guangdong to find my uncle to plan for my future, and then calmly left me.

I felt my sister's body growing cold in my arms, my heart filled with boundless rage and hatred. Ignoring my sister's 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 after them for three days and three nights without sleep, food, or drink, finally collapsing in the boundless jungle.

I felt my senses slowly fading, and 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 give up, I felt myself being lifted up by a pair of strong arms. The man who rescued me used his agility, and I felt a gust of wind behind my head, like a bird soaring through the sky. My mind relaxed, and I fell into a deep sleep, only knowing that my life had been miraculously saved.

The Second Opportunity

************************************************************************************** Odin's words:

The master who changed Ximen Chuixue's life has finally appeared. You might not know this, but because I am actually an outsider disciple of Wudang, I unknowingly added a touch of Taoist cultivation to my master. The character design is a blend of elements from *The Nameless* by Feng Yun and *Hiko Seijuro* by Rurouni Kenshin, hence the origin of Fubuki's master. I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you! ****************

...

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 he 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 call me the Drunken Sword Immortal because I love drinking. Over time, I even forgot 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 spent 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?" Hearing the senior's tone soften, I knew that if I could learn even a move from him, revenge would be just around the corner. So I hurriedly said, "Chuixue has nowhere to go. Please, senior, take me as your disciple!" The senior turned his face 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 and joyful life, not a path of no return filled with江湖 (jianghu, the martial arts world) feuds." I knew this opportunity was fleeting, so I pleaded repeatedly, "From the moment my family was massacred, happiness was destined to elude me. I beg you, senior, to grant my request." The senior carefully considered my sincerity, and finally said helplessly, "Since you insist on becoming my disciple, you must undergo a test. There's 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, within one hour." He then handed me enough silver for six months and turned to go back inside.

Carrying ten catties of weight ten kilometers round trip through the mountains was difficult even for an adult, and I knew the senior wanted me to give up and return to a life of happiness. But the thought of my sister, raped to death, and my father, whose head was severed while saving me, made my blood boil again. Knowing it was futile, I still insisted on doing it.

Finally, just before the one-hour deadline, I returned to the house, covered in wounds and carrying ten catties of fine wine. My senior, observing my fighting spirit and determination, finally understood my unwavering resolve. He helped me, who was half-dead, and said, "Very good, Fubuki, you truly have the potential to become a first-rate swordsman. From now on, you will follow me!" I sensed my senior's long-held expectations and painstaking efforts for me, knowing that this might be the third person to treat me kindly after the deaths of my father and sister. I knelt down sincerely, called him "Master," and respectfully performed the apprenticeship ceremony. My

third sword lesson

was the next morning, after my master and I had breakfast. I followed my master into the woods behind the house. We walked for nearly fifteen minutes, finally stopping before a waterfall in the forest. My master looked at me quietly, his usual gentle demeanor replaced by a stern and righteous tone. He said, "Chuixue, before I teach you martial arts, I hope you will swear a solemn oath never to use your sword to kill the innocent. Otherwise, even if you become invincible, I will still bear the responsibility of eliminating evil for the people." Then, his voice softened. "Chuixue, actually, I am thinking of you. Your bloodlust is too strong. I fear you will stray into the demonic path and ultimately fall into an abyss of no return." I understood that my master's earnest advice was for my own good, so I followed him and swore an oath.

After I made the oath, my master continued, "In my life, I created two peerless sword techniques. One is the sword of life, 'Xuantian Zhanlong Jue,' and the other is the sword of death, 'Shizi Zhuihun Jian.' The two sword techniques are inherently complementary and mutually restraining. Chuixue, which one do you want to learn?" I vaguely felt the allure of the name of the killing sword and made my choice without hesitation. My master seemed to have anticipated my choice, and without saying anything, he explained the sword technique "Ao Yi" to me.

Time flew by, and my master's Cross-Soul Chasing Sword was indeed profound and extensive, encompassing not only swordsmanship but also internal energy cultivation, lightness skill, defensive techniques, and even methods for using the sword to counter hidden weapons. It took me a whole year to learn the first four moves. Today, my master, as usual, strictly instructed me, and I practiced diligently for two hours like a waterfall. My master carefully corrected my mistakes and patiently taught me, making me fully feel the deep affection between master and disciple.

Seeing me staring blankly at him, my master asked, "Chuixue, is there anything you don't understand?" Because my master had been patiently instructing me, there was actually nothing I didn't understand. Driven by curiosity, I asked my master a question: "Master, why have I never seen your sword?" My master smiled gently and replied, "The sword is right beside me, Chuixue, can't you see it?" I looked curiously at my master's waist, truly curious about the divine weapon used by a peerless swordsman, but unfortunately, I couldn't find a single clue. Perhaps my silly, clueless appearance was too amusing, for it made my master laugh. He said seriously, "Since I achieved mastery of swordsmanship at the age of thirty, my sword has become one with me; it is omnipresent." I listened blankly to my master's words, vaguely understanding a little. My master gently stroked my head: "One day you will understand what I mean." Several years passed in the blink of an eye. Under my master's careful guidance, I had completely mastered the eleven forms of the Cross Soul-Chasing Sword. All I lacked was experience and a good command of the sword. This morning, after finishing my sword practice, I busied myself preparing dinner, because today was my fifteenth birthday. My master and I ate happily, and he drank the rice wine I had brewed for him for the first time.

Just as I was preparing to clear the table, my master stopped me, indicating he had something to say: "Fubuki, seven years have passed since we last met, and you've grown into an adult. I've taught you everything I could, but what you lack is experience and refinement. These two things are matters of life and death for a first-rate swordsman, so starting tomorrow, you need to leave here for solitary sword training. In other words, tonight will be our farewell banquet." I hugged my master's tall, slender body tightly, tears welling up in my eyes: "Master, I can't bear to part with you." My master gently stroked my head. "Silly child, I am also reluctant to part with you. I believe I will never forget the rice wine you brewed for me; its taste is unforgettable. Stop acting like a daughter and come see the farewell gift I have given you." My master took out an old wooden box from behind him and gently opened it. Inside was an old-fashioned black-sheathed longsword. My master grasped the hilt and drew the sword halfway out, and the room immediately filled with the light of the sword. This sword is named Lone Wound, its blade is three feet seven inches long, weighs seven pounds and thirteen ounces, forged from black iron from the Western Regions. It can cut hair with a breath and split stone and gold. It was my weapon in the past, and now I entrust it to you. I hope you will use it to uphold justice.

The next morning, I carried Lone Wound on my back, mounted the fine steed my master had prepared for me, bid a reluctant farewell to my master, and, suppressing my tears, rode off into the unknown future.

Chapter Four: Encounter in a Dream

A week has passed since I left my master. I arrived at a small village by the river, rented a small house, and settled down temporarily. Behind the house was a large bamboo grove, where I loved to practice my swordplay while watching the sunset. Recalling my past skills, I unleashed my sword technique, and the solitary sword, Lonely Sorrow, vanished into a white mist before my eyes.

I heard footsteps behind me and hurriedly sheathed my sword. A beautiful young woman emerged from the grove and approached me. Her name was Meng'er, one of my new neighbors. Meng'er was strikingly beautiful. Because her elderly father had unfortunately fallen ill, she made a living by picking flowers.

I walked to Meng'er's side and took a blooming flower from her basket: "Give me this." I gave Meng'er enough money for a week's worth of food. Meng'er happily kissed me. Having never been near a young woman other than my sister, I blushed with embarrassment.

I quickly changed the subject: "It smells wonderful! What kind of flower is this?" Meng'er smiled sweetly: "This is a plum blossom. It's said to bring peace of mind, so I love plum blossoms and Brother Ximen the most." Taking advantage of my momentary daze, she kissed me again on the lips.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself holding Meng'er tightly in my arms, our tongues intertwined.

A numbing pleasure surged through my mind—this was the feeling of intimacy with a woman! We kissed for nearly fifteen minutes before Meng'er shyly pushed me away and ran home without looking back.

For the next month or so, I spent all my time with Meng'er except when practicing swordsmanship. We would hold hands and lie on the grass watching the sunset, and we would sneak out at night to count the stars. I realized that I had unknowingly fallen in love with Meng'er, and this sincere love lasted for three months.

Then, three months later, there was a rapid knocking at the door. As soon as I opened it, I saw Meng'er, her face streaked with tears, rushing into my arms. Between sobs, she told me that her father had sold her to a group of bandits outside the village for five hundred taels of silver. My beloved Meng'er had come to say goodbye. I kissed away her tears and gently comforted her.

Meng'er whispered to me, "Brother Ximen, could you close your eyes for a moment?" I obediently closed my eyes, and heard the sound of fabric being pulled away. A naked, warm body was already tightly embracing me. Meng'er shyly told me, "Brother Ximen, tonight Meng'er wants to give you her most precious thing." We intertwined passionately, and I kissed every inch of Meng'er's snow-white body. Driven by male instinct, I quickly thrust my penis into Meng'er's virgin territory. Meng'er's virgin blood slowly flowed from her vaginal opening with my thrusts, staining the white sheets red. We reached orgasm together during our intense intercourse.

My pent-up essence filled Meng'er's body. With her last ounce of strength, Meng'er held me tightly:

"Brother, can you promise me that whenever you see plum blossoms, you will think of me?" I held my beloved Meng'er close and said, "I will never forget you, Meng'er, you are my woman, Ximen Chuixue's woman." Chapter Five, First Battle:

Three days have passed since Meng'er's marriage, and I sit here in the bamboo forest, painfully waving my lonely sword, venting my grief. What can I do? Meng'er's marriage is her parents' arrangement; can I expect her to rebel against them? Suddenly, sword energy surged through the bamboo forest, startling birds and beasts. I completely forgot everything in my heart, feeling only a sense of oneness with heaven and earth.

Three hours later, I walked out of the bamboo forest, satisfied. I felt my power had increased, fueled by love and hate, but I was not happy at all. A sense of unease crept into my heart. I looked up and saw fires rising in the village. So I used my movement technique to run towards the village.

As I stepped into the village, I noticed about fifty burly men waiting for me, but I ignored them completely. My gaze was fixed on the naked female body on the ground—my beloved Meng'er. I walked to Meng'er and gently embraced her; it was a body utterly devoid of life. Meng'er was completely gone from me, first by death, then by life itself.

A burly man who seemed to be the leader stepped forward from the crowd: "Boy, are you this girl's lover?" I didn't answer but instead asked, "Did you kill her?" The leader said smugly, "Since this girl was no longer a virgin, I had my brothers have some fun with her. I never thought she would die so easily from pleasure!" Meng'er's death was exactly like my sister's, and it stirred up the hatred deep within my heart.

"Boy, I asked you your name, are you deaf?" I coldly drew my sword, "My name means nothing to the dying." Just by the aura of my drawn sword, the bandits knew I possessed martial arts skills, and they surged forward. Unfortunately, they all made a mistake, a fatal mistake!

The first move of my killing sword technique, [One Cut in Two], with a cold shout, cleaved five burly men at the front in half. The villagers and bandits were stunned; none of them had imagined that this frail boy would be a figure like the Grim Reaper. My body moved with my sword, swift as the wind, but every strike meant death. In the blink of an eye, the ground was littered with the bandits' corpses.

I slowly walked to the leader; the chilling killing intent terrified him, causing him to stumble to the ground, his legs wet with sweat, having lost control of his bladder. The second move of the Killing Sword, [Two Wanderings], the sword tip caressed the leader's face like a lover's delicate hand, the sword energy scraping and slicing until his face was blurred, and in an instant he was a headless corpse.

I looked at the Lone Wound in my hand, the bandits' blood staining its cold blade red, but their filthy blood was unworthy to taint my sword. I brought the Lone Wound to my lips and blew on the blade, and blood gently slid down from the tip. What I blew was not snowflakes, but bright red blood flowers, until the last drop of blood flowed from the Lone Wound, then I put it back in its sheath.

I picked up Meng'er's body and left the village without looking back. I buried her on a small hillside, where we used to love lying and watching the stars, and I believed Meng'er would like to rest here forever. The yellow earth gently covered Meng'er, and I felt a part of my life die with her, but Meng'er's death gave me a new goal: to kill all the bandits in the land to avenge my sister and Meng'er's deep hatred. For a江湖人 (jianghu person, a person of the martial arts world), the greatest desire is probably fame. Although countless people strive for this goal, only a small fraction succeed, and even those who do often spend most of their lives trying.

Yet , I've only been in the business for three months, and I've already achieved complete fame. In these long three months, I've traversed every corner of the land, wiping out no fewer than a hundred thieves' dens. Ximen Chuixue has become a nightmare feared by everyone in the underworld. Every time I arrive at a new thief's den, the moment they see my white robes, they know who I am and why I'm there. I've never uttered a word, because I'm here to kill; words are reserved for the sword. Each time, I mercilessly slaughter every creature before me. I've become like a bloodthirsty demon, the stench of blood seeping into my bones, an aura that no amount of washing away can erase. At that time, I truly believed my life was over. I've traveled far and wide, searching for the meaning and value of life, encountering many interesting characters along the way. The one who left the deepest impression on me was a strange man with four eyebrows. We met on a mountain path. He recognized me at a glance as Ximen Chuixue, while he lazily lay on the ground drinking. He said his name was Lu Xiaofeng, but I only pay attention to those I intend to kill, so I ignored him and walked away. "Ah! Do you know how to use a sword? I see you're carrying a fine sword; could I borrow it to take a look?" I looked at him coldly, my suspicion of my sword an insult: "Look if you want, then look all you want." With that, I drew my sword and thrust it at him. I didn't intend to hurt him, just to frighten him and teach him a lesson. But to my utter surprise, this drunkard caught my sword blade tightly with just two fingers. This was unbelievable to me, and it made me realize that there are always people more skilled than you. Unexpectedly, we later became close friends. I confess that although Lu Xiaofeng was a complete scoundrel, he was always the only friend I truly trusted. We spent our days in blissful romance, but he had urgent business to attend to, so we parted ways in the capital. Lu Xiaofeng had a profound influence on me, adding a touch of friendship to my otherwise life of constant fighting. But even his influence couldn't compare to the person I'm about to talk about: she is my second greatest love... Xiaoxue. On my seventh trip home , the place I stayed in the capital was our old Ximen family home. After years of neglect, it had become a haven for thugs. They even abducted local women to use as sexual objects, then imprisoned them in the main house to serve them. I killed the lookout thug and walked into the main house with an air of nonchalance. The ringleader, being well-traveled, recognized me just by my white clothes. He quickly and obsequiously tied me up. I ignored these despicable men and coldly asked, "Ready?" The bandit leader froze, then asked, "What does Master Ximen want me to prepare? I'll do it immediately." This damned bandit leader really annoyed me. I coldly replied, "Prepare to die." The thugs immediately panicked: "Why?" I didn't want them to die without knowing why: "Occupying the Ximen family and raping innocent women." The bandit leader knew he couldn't let it go easily, so he drew his longsword and thrust it at me. Too slow. Lonely Wound was drawn, and with a single move, "Double Dream," the bandit leader was finished off. This move was a modified version of "Double Dream" that I created to commemorate Meng'er. The sword intent contained my sorrow and love for Meng'er, making the sword's momentum even more powerful and moving. These mere mountain bandits were no match for even a single move from me. In just half an hour, nearly fifty thugs had all been killed by me. I found about twenty young girls in the woodshed, most of them half-naked. They clearly heard the fighting outside and huddled in a corner in fear. To be honest, while those thugs were mediocre in martial arts, they were quite skilled at picking women. The girls inside, though not stunning beauties, were at least above average in appearance. I released them from their restraints: "I've killed all those thugs; you're free." I expected them to scatter immediately, but surprisingly, there was no movement for half an hour. One of the most beautiful girls came to my side: "Thank you for your kindness in giving us a new lease on life, but unfortunately, most of the sisters here have had their families killed by the bandits and are now homeless. I have no choice but to beg you to take them in." I couldn't bear to refuse the pitiful girls, and the Ximen family also needed someone to manage it, so I agreed to take them in. Besides being young, beautiful, and having captivating figures, these girls were all skilled in the art of serving men. Covered in blood, I was dragged into a bathhouse by four or five people. One of them had already prepared hot water and was waiting. The three younger girls gently removed my clothes and massaged my upper body. I followed them into a large wooden tub filled with hot water, big enough to hold seven or eight people. The two most beautiful girls also took off their clothes and sat in the tub, one in front and one behind me. Of the five girls, one was responsible for adding water, one for washing my hair, and one for manicuring my nails. The two girls close to me rubbed their smooth, soft breasts against my skin. Because I was grateful to them for rescuing them from the clutches of thugs, each of them served me extra attentively. Especially the two who were "attacking" me from the front and back, not only rubbed their tender breasts all over my body, but also used their hands and mouths, their fragrant tongues sweeping over every sensitive spot on my body. Full of youthful vigor, I couldn't resist such provocation. A physical reaction immediately arose, and my hard, swollen member "stood up" like a red-hot iron rod. Seeing this, the girl in front of me hurriedly offered her lips and tongue, her warm, moist mouth embracing me, gently sucking and licking. Her delicate head moved back and forth, sometimes deep throat, sometimes shallow sips. Her tongue swept across the glans, sending waves of intense pleasure through me. Unable to resist, I quickly ejaculated, filling the girl's mouth with my semen. The girl showed no sign of discomfort, obediently swallowing the semen.

The girl who had been manicuring my nails finished her work, took off her clothes, and stepped into the bathtub to replace the girl who had been giving me oral sex. Her slender, snow-white hands massaged my penis, and I quickly regained my erection. The girl faced me and gently pressed herself against me, her hands guiding my penis straight into her honey pot. My thick penis reached the very core of her flower, and the girl couldn't wait to twist her waist up and down, stroking back and forth.

Her breasts bounced back and forth, rubbing against my firm pectoral muscles, while her hands tightly embraced my neck, her fragrant tongue gently entering my mouth. The lust that had accumulated for nearly half a year since Meng'er's death was rekindled by this captivating beauty, and without any pretense, I embraced the girl's waist and thrust violently, using the bedroom skills I had learned from that bastard Lu Xiaofeng.

The girl, panting heavily from my vigorous thrusts, was already experiencing ecstasy in just half an hour, her orgasms coming one after another. This proved that Lu Xiaofeng's method was indeed effective; perhaps she could make a living as a male concubine (male prostitute in ancient times) someday.

The six of us bathed in the bathhouse for over an hour, and afterwards, each of us received my attention, our legs weak with satisfaction, needing mutual support to leave the bathhouse.

That evening, after dinner, I returned to my long-lost bedroom with two of the most beautiful girls, who were responsible for my personal care, and spent an extremely fulfilling night. I filled the body of one of the girls, named Qiao'er, with my white semen before quietly falling asleep, embracing their warm, soft bodies.

[The End]

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A Brief Biography of Sword God Ximen Chuixue

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