I Am Unaware That I Am the Peerless Martial God

Chapter 1446: One or Two Coins for Wine

After their chance encounter and hearty drinking, everything remained the same.

Yi Feng continued to immerse himself in arduous cultivation. His state of mind in this life was extremely mature. The various affairs of the mortal world could no longer affect his heart for the Dao. No matter how interesting the Man in Black from before was, at best, he was just a passerby who had shared a table and a drink.

At least, that was what he thought.

Over the next two months.

Yi Feng remained devoted to the bitter cultivation of the Great Dao. He would either go out to search for legendary secret realms or cross provinces to spar with the prodigies of major sects. His cultivation continued to climb, and his fame grew ever larger.

As Yi Feng grew stronger, the number of his admirers multiplied. Many female cultivators even tracked him down upon hearing his name. Wherever he went, a group of young women would quickly follow.

As the saying goes, fame portends trouble for men just as fattening does for pigs.

Though the words were crude, the principle was sound. Yi Feng deeply resonated with this and was endlessly bothered by it.

Therefore, whenever Yi Feng finished a sparring match or stepped out of a secret realm, he would leave the area as quickly as possible, silently vanishing from the martial world's sight.

With his cultivation that reigned supreme across several provinces, almost no one could track him, and very few had seen his true face. Yet, unexpectedly, his reputation became increasingly exaggerated, and his admirers were innumerable.

Traces of Yi Feng were rare in the martial world, but his legends were everywhere.

Under this headache-inducing fanaticism, the world's pursuit became even more exaggerated. Some even waited for long periods near Yi Feng's original sect, lying in ambush for his return.

Secretly noticing all this, Yi Feng shook his head and sighed helplessly. He knew well that returning to his sect for a visit was now a luxury. Only by quietly slipping back to his small courtyard at the foot of the mountain could he enjoy a bit of peace and tranquility.

In the blink of an eye, it was already the eighth day of the third month.

Seeing that it was the transition between spring and summer, the sun had just revealed half its face. The morning light filtered through the blooming peach blossoms outside the courtyard, scattering sparsely by the window.

Witnessing this scene, Yi Feng, who had just opened his eyes, felt relaxed.

He got up and dressed, preparing to practice the sword Dao amidst the sea of flowers, before setting out again to spar with a prodigy from a major sect.

But unexpectedly, just as he opened the door.

A person was already lying under the eaves in front of the door. The loose black clothes were the same as always, and the smile on his face was just as bold and uninhibited.

At a glance, Yi Feng recognized the person.

It was exactly that thick-skinned young man he had once drunk with.

However, today the man's face was somewhat pale, and a golden feathered arrow was pierced into his front, indicating he was heavily injured. It seemed that every time they met, this guy was wounded, and each time it was more serious than the last.

Before Yi Feng could speak, he laughed and said.

"I'll leave after I rest a bit, I'll leave after I rest a bit..."

Though he said this, he indeed did not speak another word.

However, those eyes couldn't help but peek into the house, as if looking for something. It looked like his injuries were not light, but not quite life-threatening either.

Yi Feng knew what was going on the moment he saw him.

Likewise, without saying any unnecessary words, he went back into the house, brought out a jug of wine, and placed it on the stone table in the courtyard.

Right before leaving.

Yi Feng remembered his previous secret resolution and casually left a message.

"One jug of peach blossom wine, the cost is three taels and three mace."

After saying this, he hurriedly departed.

Yi Feng still had to go challenge stronger prodigies, and the Man in Black was heavily injured today, destined to be unable to drink heartily like before. The unexpected reunion was joyful, but he never thought it would still leave a bit of regret.

The martial world was like this, and so was life. Eight or nine out of ten things do not go as desired. He didn't know if they would be able to reunite next time, or if they would have the chance to drink heartily again.

After parting ways.

Yi Feng went to the Heavenly Sword Sect in Ling Province to challenge the chief disciple Luo Yunchuan. As always, he smashed through opposition like crushing dry weeds. Wherever his sword aura passed, no one could stop him. His sword Dao had already reached great completion, destined to make him famous throughout the world.

By the time he returned again, it was already dusk the next day.

The small courtyard illuminated by the setting sun was still as quiet and peaceful.

Apart from some bloodstains left in the courtyard, proving that the thick-skinned fellow had been there, nothing had changed.

When Yi Feng stepped into the courtyard, he realized there was a note left on the stone table, weighed down by some scattered silver so it wouldn't be blown away by the spring breeze.

Picking up the note, the handwriting written in blood had long dried, turning blackish-red.

"This granddaddy has been tight on money lately. I only have two taels and three mace of silver. I owe you one tael, I'll give it to you next time we have a chance to drink!"

Looking at those straightforward words, Yi Feng smiled faintly.

This guy actually still cared about his face and wasn't entirely thick-skinned. Although he was a bit strapped for cash, he was true to his word and actually paid for the wine.

Give it next time...

Muttering the interesting words, Yi Feng weighed the broken silver in his hand, then slowly tucked it into his sleeve. He casually discarded the note, letting it scatter with the spring breeze.

Looking back at the empty courtyard gate, his gaze following the note through the lush peach blossoms, a trace of expectation surfaced in Yi Feng's eyes.

He originally thought that he would meet the Man in Black again soon.

Who knew that this parting would last for a very long time.

Spring went and autumn came; winter retreated and spring arrived.

In the blink of an eye, a year had passed.

Yi Feng seemed to have completely immersed himself in a brand new life. As if living a second life, he was the White-Robed Sword God of this life. Whether it was his body, mind, or comprehension, they had all merged into one.

In this short year, Yi Feng continuously grew, obsessed with pursuing a stronger sword Dao. He had almost fought all over the nearby provinces, with no rivals left to speak of.

He was already the well-deserved number one figure among the younger generation in the Nanli Nation, his reputation like the sun at high noon.

Any cultivator would know Yi Feng's great name. Even the children playing in the streets could casually recite the recent poems of praise.

"Sword aura sweeps across thirty thousand miles, the cold light of a single sword chills nineteen provinces!"

In the face of such fame and cultivation, the cultivators of the entire Nanli Nation held Yi Feng in great awe. Even many high-ranking officials of various sects treated Yi Feng as an equal.

Under the expectations of the masses, Yi Feng was jointly nominated by various sects to represent the Nanli Nation in the selection of the Snow Moon Holy Land. Unsurprisingly, he soon became the Holy Son of the Snow Moon Holy Land.

For a time, Yi Feng's prominence was unmatched, his status and reputation reaching their peak. Any cultivation resources were easily within his grasp. The entire Nanli Nation had made up its mind to use the power of a hundred sects across the country to help Yi Feng soar into the clouds!

Offering fuel in snowy weather is rare, but adding flowers to brocade is common.

After Yi Feng was destined to leap over the dragon gate, many sects tried their best to curry favor. Although they had their own little calculations of taking the opportunity to build a good relationship, they still paid out a lot of resources.

Even the top ten sects joined forces to build a Holy King Palace for Yi Feng, which was piled high with resources offered by various sects. They also sent many elite disciples to serve by his side, so that Yi Feng could quietly cultivate and wait for the day of the selection to arrive.

Under this profound hospitality with various hidden intentions, Yi Feng could no longer reside peacefully in the small courtyard at the foot of the mountain.

He was already well aware of the thoughts of the various sects, but the massive cultivation resources could not be ignored. Since the other party was delivering them to his door, why should he refuse?

At worst, he would just take an opportunity to repay the favor in the future. The martial world is always full of worldly wisdom and human relations, and the exchange of interests is common. This is already the norm.

Therefore, under the watchful eyes of the public, Yi Feng moved into the Holy King Palace. For a time, countless people came to pay their respects, but they were all blocked outside the palace gates.

In front of the gates of the Holy King Palace.

Who knows how many prodigies stopped upon hearing his name, gazing for a long time, unwilling to leave.

Yi Feng, admired by thousands, was currently sitting alone by the jade table in the garden, staring blankly at the blooming peach blossoms.

It was the time of blooming flowers once again.

He could not help but think of a certain someone, as well as that unforgettable single tael of silver.

In the face of the world's hypocritical pleasantries, such a simple friendship appeared exceptionally precious. He could not even remember how long it had been since he had drunk as heartily as he did that day...

Perhaps in this lifetime, there would never be another chance to drink with such reckless abandon.

As the saying goes, it is lonely at the top; the ancients truly did not deceive him.

Just as Yi Feng was quietly sighing with emotion, a voice reported from behind him.

"Reporting to the Holy King."

"There is a man clad in black requesting an audience at the palace gates. He rudely demanded a cup of wine and claimed to be an old friend of yours. The man looks utterly unremarkable, yet he dares to spout such insolent nonsense. Please allow your subordinate to go and teach him a lesson..."

The more the subordinate spoke, the more indignant he became, seemingly unable to contain his fury.

Hearing this, Yi Feng merely smiled and raised his gaze.

"It is fine. Bring him in."