Chapter 415: Master of Both Poetry and Painting
Back then, the Butcher was a madman—domineering, invincible, lonely, and also highly learned, not crude like he was now. Not only was his blade technique exceptional, but his scholarship was equally impressive. The poetry he wrote was bold and unrestrained, and he became a famous literary talent of his time.
His blade technique was called Heavenly Blade, and he himself was also called Heavenly Blade. Every one of his moves was full of poetic meaning, expressing his feelings directly, refreshing and unrestrained.
If the Crippled Elder Village were to hold a literary ranking, the Deaf would rank first, and he would rank second. Although he had become insane and foul-mouthed, he was still the most famous literary giant of that era.
At that time, he had already challenged almost all the top experts. Even Ban Gongcuo, the Great Venerable of the Loulan Golden Palace, could only hide obediently inside the Golden Palace, not daring to show his face.
He was full of ambition. Apart from having an annoying disciple, his life was already complete. Of course, his disciple was also quite remarkable, named Bashan, known as Overlord Blade.
Forty or fifty years, wind and rain obscure, never to be seen again. Passing clouds drift by, horizontal and vertical, a vast single line of sky!
Don't boast, after the heroes' calamity comes the people's will. Gazing around sea and sky, walking all the way with smoke trailing behind!
The Butcher created the Horizontal and Vertical Vast Single Line of Sky, pushing the combat technique school to unprecedented heights. At that time, many in the martial world studied the blade, and the combat technique school became the mainstream, overpowering spell techniques and sword techniques.
It was then that the Butcher finally couldn't resist drawing his blade against the heavens. He wasn't a figure like the Yankang National Preceptor—the National Preceptor sought reform and change, while he sought satisfaction!
"After I created this move, I immediately tested the blade technique. That single slash split the sky open."
The Butcher danced his blade, displaying exactly the Horizontal and Vertical Vast Single Line of Sky. He didn't unleash any power with this move, only going through the motions once.
He sheathed his blade and stood, his expression strange. He steadied himself, seemingly recalling his mad period: "Then I saw a bizarre sight. The sky split open, and beyond the sky there were no stars. I was cautious and didn't immediately ascend to look. Instead, I found several like-minded friends, all of whom were proficient in mathematical calculations."
Qin Mu's heart stirred. The Butcher was actually cautious? He had always been the most hot-tempered, charging headfirst into things and swinging his blade at whatever he encountered.
"This personality is just a facade Grandpa Butcher deliberately created. Anyone who believes he's a reckless brute is probably already dead," Qin Mu thought to himself.
"So I drew my blade a second time, slashing at the sky, while my mathematical friends calculated the thickness and height of the sky. But this time, something went wrong."
The Butcher fell silent. After a moment, he said gloomily, "Those friends of mine died. In the crack I cut in the sky, an eye appeared—a massive eye, a strange eye. When that eye looked at me, I felt my soul tremble, as if it were being pulled out of my body. But my physical body was extremely strong, and my heart's beating suppressed my primordial spirit. My friends, however, couldn't suppress it. They..."
The corners of his eyes twitched, and he fell silent again.
"I didn't immediately charge into the sky to find the owner of that eye. I carried my friends' bodies back to their homes, settled their families, and gave them proper burials."
The Butcher stared blankly into space: "I knelt and begged their families for forgiveness. One of those friends was my sworn brother. His wife was a good woman, but she slapped me across the face. Then she said to me, 'Get out. Get as far away as you can. Don't seek revenge.' I knew what she meant—if I went for revenge, I would die. But I still went."
He revealed a smile and said to Qin Mu, "My friend, my brother, died without knowing why, died because of me. How could I not seek revenge? A man stands eight feet tall, with muscles all over, courage in his chest, and a great blade in his hand. Why not take revenge, why not express himself directly? My sister-in-law cared for me and didn't want me to throw my life away, but my blade and my heart are upright and just—revenge must be taken! So I went alone, blade in hand, into the sky. Heh heh, many people say I'm a madman, right?"
Qin Mu silently nodded.
Too many people said that Heavenly Blade, who drew his blade against the heavens, was a madman. Heavenly Blade charged into the sky to battle the gods. The sky darkened, clouds gathered, and thunder roared.
That battle was described by people of the time as the strongest of the combat technique school, Heavenly Blade, falling into demonic madness and challenging the heavens. That battle was almost passed down as a myth.
Heavenly Blade was cut in half at the waist, his blood spilling onto the mortal world. From then on, the combat technique school had no strongest expert, but it still flourished. When the Yankang National Preceptor rose to prominence, because the combat technique school was fond of violence and killed people at the slightest provocation, the National Preceptor challenged the entire school, killing many old masters. From then on, the combat technique school declined.
"I charged into the sky. The sky is only this thick..."
The Butcher pinched his thumb and index finger together—at most three inches thick.
Qin Mu didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The sky was a hundred thousand li high and three hundred zhang thick—that was something he, Xu Shenghua, Wang Muran, Lin Xuan, and others had calculated together. The Butcher was always careless, and being a poet, he liked to exaggerate. Three inches was just his metaphor.
"I killed my way into the sky and saw many strange formations."
The Butcher stared blankly at the sky: "The sky was only a single line wide, filled with formations that operated automatically, extremely complex, taking on the forms of sun, moon, stars, galaxies, and constellations. I was furious at the time. I felt that this damned heaven was all fake. Those poor old Daoist priests were still calculating the celestial bodies day and night, only to find that everything they calculated was false. Those common people still worshipped the sun and moon every day, only to find they were worshipping these things. I wanted to chop all of it down, smash it to pieces, and see how they could keep fooling people. And then..."
Then, Heavenly Blade encountered the gods—the gods who guarded these false celestial phenomena.
Heavenly Blade battled the gods fiercely but was cut in half at the waist and fell from the sky.
His lower body was snatched away by the Witch Venerable. Also taken was the severed hand of a god, which Qin Mu later stole back. It was still in the Butcher's possession now.
"I never met the owner of that eye, and I never avenged those friends. I was crippled, ruined."
The Butcher's eyes revealed madness, but his spirit remained stable: "I had no face to return to my friends' families, no face to see my sister-in-law, and no face to die. Those friends were watching me..."
He looked like he was crying and laughing at the same time: "I couldn't let them support a crippled me, and I couldn't let Bashan see me disabled. In this world, there is only a Heavenly Blade who died in battle, not a Heavenly Blade who dragged out a miserable existence. It was raining and snowing then. I crawled and crawled, all the way to the Great Ruins. The ground was cold mud. It was the Blind Man who picked me up and brought me back to the village. That damned Blind Man still brings it up to mock me..."
The Butcher's face darkened, and he said, "Last year, when I left the Great Ruins with the Blind Man, I still couldn't resist going to see my sister-in-law. She was old, her eyes were failing, her mind wasn't clear anymore, and she didn't recognize me. Her grandson was with her. She could no longer walk and could only sit in a reclining chair. Her grandson said that the old lady's most frequent words were, 'I shouldn't have let Second Brother leave back then.'"
Tears fell from the Butcher's fierce eyes, but his voice remained calm: "I accompanied her through her final days. Before she passed, she was still murmuring about me. She never knew I was right by her side. She said it was she who had harmed me..."
Qin Mu fell silent.
The Butcher roused his spirits and said, "Although I wasn't in the sky for long, I saw many things. The sun, moon, and stars in the sky are actually formations within a narrow space. They look like, look like..."
He glanced at the Deaf, who had been turned into a bull, and said, "Like a painting. But those sun, moon, and stars aren't painted things—they're real, operating automatically, hidden within the painting, running in the world inside the painting. I've also seen the Deaf's paintings. They're very skilled, but not yet at that level."
Qin Mu was slightly startled: "There are formations within the painting, displaying the magnificent scene of sun, moon, and stars?"
"Moo!" Beside Qin Mu, a big black bull said angrily, while several female deer demons were trying to seduce the big black bull.
The Butcher drove away the deer demons, placed his butcher knife against the bull's head, and made a gesture. The black bull trembled in fear.
The Butcher stabbed the knife into the bull's neck with a squelch, carefully peeling off the bullhide. The deer demons fled in panic.
The Deaf rolled out from the bullhide, complaining, "Butcher, you almost hurt me."
"The sky is like a painting, but not entirely a painting. The sun, moon, and stars inside are all like refined treasures. This painting completely covers the true sky, with formations maintaining the sun, moon, and stars running for tens of thousands of years. You can't do it—your cultivation is too shallow."
The Butcher sheathed his butcher knife and said, "Those deities in the sky should be the dogs guarding the celestial chart, not true deities. They're strong—no weaker than those from the Upper Firmament. But the owner of that divine eye, I never saw him. He shouldn't be in this realm. When I was investigating the celestial phenomena, he sensed me and gave me that one look."
A painting covering the entire world, with the sun, moon, stars, and constellations inside all being formations that could operate on their own. The painting was three hundred zhang thick and a hundred thousand li high.
Qin Mu's head ached. Was this something a person could create?
"At that time, I didn't see what was beyond the sky."
The Butcher's face darkened, and he said, "My slash only cut through the celestial chart, not the back side. At that time, my physical body was terrifyingly strong, and I didn't die, but I went mad."
In fact, even now, the Butcher occasionally had fits of madness, often cursing the damned heavens, somewhat cynical and world-weary.
The people of Crippled Elder Village were all people who had been beaten down beyond repair, their minds and bodies both crushed. They all had a certain cynicism about them.
"I can also paint. I can paint what I saw in the sky."
The Butcher said, "But my paintings aren't as good as the Deaf's. Mu'er, give me a few days. I'll paint those formations down for you to see."
Qin Mu was astonished.
The Butcher was big and burly, strong as an ox demon reincarnated, with a thick, vigorous beard. When he shaved with his butcher knife, sparks would fly!
Such a rough man was actually a master of both poetry and painting, and was honored as Heavenly Blade!
The Deaf wasn't surprised, saying, "In our village, the one with the least cultural foundation is the Blind Man. The Butcher's poetry and painting are both first-rate. He just didn't put all his heart into poetry and painting, or he would have gone down in history."
Qin Mu looked at the Blind Man, only to see the Blind Man glaring fiercely at the Deaf.
For the next two days, the Butcher shut himself in his room, painting continuously. Qin Mu didn't disturb him. Si Yunxiang contacted the Young Ancestral Master, who said, "The Ancestral Master went to the Western Lands and is hurrying back."
Qin Mu was surprised: "The Ancestral Master went to the Western Lands? Could he be visiting an old flame?"
At that moment, a voice came: "The Yankang National Preceptor requests an audience with the Human Sovereign!"
Qin Mu turned around, looked in the direction of the voice, and laughed heartily: "Heavenly King, why so formal? Just say you've come to see the Sect Master! Calling me Human Sovereign is too distant!"
Si Yunxiang was deeply impressed: "The Sect Master's thick-skinnedness—I could never match it even if I tried."