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Edited by: Michyrr

Before the Mausoleum of Books, it had been several years since Chen Changsheng and Shang Xingzhou’s last meeting, and after the Mausoleum of Books, they began to treat each other as strangers, even enemies. But they were still master and disciple, having lived together in Xining Village’s old temple for ten-some years. They both had an extremely deep understanding of the other, able to tell what the other was thinking from the smallest of movements, even the change in the look of one’s eyes. This was what was meant to have a feel for each other.

Shang Xingzhou had felt Chen Changsheng’s mood as he was taking the sword out of the flower pot, resulting in that question of his.

But after receiving Chen Changsheng’s confirmation, he did not loosen his guard, nor did he feel proud. Instead, he asked another question.

"Do you know what this place is?"

Chen Changsheng was the Principal of the Orthodox Academy and had lived here for many years, but he truly did not know what this red building was. The Orthodox Academy was too large and the years he had spent living and studying here had been limited to the forest near the Imperial City and the area around the library, not even one-tenth of the Orthodox Academy’s full size.

Shang Xingzhou said, "This place is Maple Forest Pavilion. Back then, I moved those two rows of maple trees from the Bureau of Ecclesiastic Education to here."

Chen Changsheng now understood why this place had looked so familiar.

"Mei Lisha was my friend."

Shang Xingzhou looked at his face and said with rather mixed emotions, "He always admired you, which I never really understood. Now, I am slowly beginning to understand."

Chen Changsheng didn’t know whether he should feel proud or relieved at these words, or if he should let that sourness at the bottom of his heart soak in them. He only remained silent.

At this moment, was there any meaning in saying such words? Perhaps it was because Shang Xingzhou had confirmed that Chen Changsheng was about to run out of swords and, knowing that his disciple was about to lose or perhaps even die, was feeling emotional? But what was so important about the origins of this Maple Forest Pavilion?

Shang Xingzhou turned to look at the building and said, "The final battle from that year took place here."

That year was twenty-some years ago, on the night of the bloody incident in the Orthodox Academy.

The Maple Forest Pavilion might have been so striking because it had been drenched in the blood from that night.

"Many people died on that night, many young people. They were just as outstanding as you, perhaps even more."

Shang Xingzhou looked back at Chen Changsheng and said, "Over my life, I’ve seen far too much life and death, so I really don’t care anymore. Do not hope that my heart will go soft."

The meaning of these words was exceptionally clear.

If Chen Changsheng still did not concede, he would not mind cutting Chen Changsheng down with his sword.

Chen Changsheng did not concede, did not even speak. Still he remained silent.

He raised his right hand, the short sword held across his eyes, cold light gleaming as dirt sprinkled to the floor.

Shang Xingzhou understood his choice and walked toward him.

An extremely clear trail of footsteps appeared on the floorboards.

Each footstep shone with light before starting to burn.

With the clouds driven away, the sun shone with unequalled brilliance in the blue sky over the Orthodox Academy.

In the dazzling and blinding light, the Maple Forest Pavilion truly did seem to catch fire. The maple trees outside it swayed in the wind, appearing like tongues of flame.

This was fire formed from the kindling of countless years of blood. The faint smell of char it gave off was imbued with a sense of heroism and majesty.

The light cast by the fire of blood on Shang Xingzhou made him look abnormally large, like he was a devil and god in one.

This was his life, and also Wang Zhice’s, the Tang Old Master’s, and the lives of all those other elders.

They would not relinquish their ideals and persistence for anything.

A clear whistle shrieked through the air.

A massive gale blew through the Maple Forest Pavilion.

The maple trees swayed even more intensely, the tongues of flame wanting to burn up even the vault of heaven.

The sword in Shang Xingzhou’s hands slashed down, bringing with it a gout of bloody fire.

The bloody fire was bright and garish, but his figure was dark and cold, creating a particularly stark contrast.

With a boom, the bloody fire splattered into countless flames, igniting the floorboards and columns of the Maple Forest Pavilion.

The short sword flew out the window while Chen Changsheng retreated ten-some steps, vomiting blood.

Shang Xingzhou raised his sword and walked once more to him.

No panic could be seen on Chen Changsheng’s face.

He said to Shang Xingzhou, "Just concede, Master."

From the moment he found the first sword, he had begun saying this.

In the lake, in front of the library, and in many other places, he would pick up a sword and say it again.

And then, those swords would be knocked away by Shang Xingzhou.

Now, he had lost his final sword, but he was still saying this.

Shang Xingzhou’s face showed no derision, nor any confusion.

It seemed that he knew where Chen Changsheng’s confidence came from.

Chen Changsheng raised his right hand.

Other than air and the light of the fire, there was nothing in it.

Was he going to pull a sword out of mid-air?

Howling suddenly came from nearby.

With a whoosh, a cold light flew through the window and then vanished.

The short sword had returned to Chen Changsheng’s hand.

Soon after, countless howls and shrieks could be heard from all over the Orthodox Academy.

Each one was shrill, naturally imbued with a sense of sharpness.

As the howls and shrieks increased, they became a torrential downpour, one of falling arrows.

Countless sword glows came out from under plums, from inside trees, from out of the water.

Old plum trees were neatly cut open, looking like incense sticks that had been burning for three days and three nights.

Ten holes appeared in the broken trunk of an ancient tree, making it really seem like a flute used by a god.

The lake was covered in ripples as if several hundred koi were struggling out from the fetid mud at the bottom.

These were the swords that Tang Thirty-Six had hidden in the Orthodox Academy.

The ones that Chen Changsheng had found one after the other.

The ones that had been knocked away by Shang Xingzhou.

They flew through the sky...

Toward the Maple Forest Pavilion.

Several dozen sword glows arrived at Chen Changsheng’s side.

Shang Xingzhou looked at him and said, "Not enough."

Chen Changsheng’s finger lightly knocked on the short sword.

A bright clang resonated through the building, bringing with it the cool and pure sword intent of several dozen swords.

With a light snap, Shang Xingzhou’s topknot broke.

For the seemingly ordinary black topknot to break at this moment was extremely unordinary.

Innumerable cold lights surged out from it, like a great river that seemed to be jumping for joy.

A fierce wind sliced the maple trees to pieces and made red shards madly dance in the air.

The flying eaves of the pavilion were crisscrossed with countless straight lines while countless holes were cut in the red walls and pillars.

A flame about to be ignited by the sun still needed to be attached to a physical object.

With no bark and the pavilion about to totter, could the bloody fire last?

As those tongues of flame licking toward the sky gradually disappeared, their colors dulled, and then they finally extinguished into nothingness.

The sun spilled its light over the ruined Maple Forest Pavilion.

Several thousand swords quietly hovered around Chen Changsheng.

Clear and powerful sword intents filled the entire world.

These sword intents seemed to be connected in an array, the energy circulating through them never-ending and multiplying, seemingly unbreakable.

Chen Changsheng looked at Shang Xingzhou and asked, "Is it enough now?"

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(TN: The name of this building comes from the 1986 Hong Kong movie ’A Better Tomorrow’. It is the name of a restaurant in which Mark, played by Chow Yun-Fat, takes revenge for the imprisonment of one of his friends by single-handedly killing a gang leader and his bodyguards. Mark was the fan-favorite of the movie and apparently Mao Ni was no exception. He writes in a note that he began planning this scene not long after he started writing Way of Choices.)