Chapter 18 Seven Star Formation

Two years had passed since Mu Dishi returned from the Central Plains, and the quiet of the cave had become both a sanctuary and a torment. He had tried his best to stay hidden within its depths, but the memories of Ma Jingguo were everywhere—in the faint scent of bamboo, in the silent echoes of laughter, in the very dust that coated the guzheng. The cave, once a refuge, now felt like a lonely mausoleum of their shared past. Unable to bear the suffocating weight of those memories any longer, he decided to leave and visit the Mu's graveyard. On the twelve-year anniversary of the Mu clan's devastating end, Mu Dishi made the solemn decision to return to the Central Plains to pay tribute to the dead.

As Mu Dishi drew closer to the Mu graveyard, a familiar figure appeared: Yong Hao, meticulously wiping a tombstone. Mu Dishi walked along the hill toward the seventy-one silent tombs.

"Mu gongzi," Yong Hao greeted, his voice respectful.

Mu Dishi merely nodded, a curt "Mm."

"Are you visiting again?" Yong Hao asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Mu Dishi offered another noncommittal "Mm" and continued walking up to Mu Village. When he arrived at the bamboo hut, everything still looked exactly the same as it had two years ago, frozen in time. With a sigh, he began to clean up the dust, carefully picking up broken objects scattered around the hut. That night, after he had eaten a solitary meal, he blew out the small candle. Darkness enveloped him, and he climbed into bed, but sleep was elusive. He lay awake, the echoes of his past filling the quiet, and didn't fall asleep until nearly midnight.

The next morning, Mu Dishi sought the quiet solace of the stream. He moved with practiced ease, the cool earth soft beneath his feet as he approached the water's edge, its gentle current flowing over smooth river stones. He skillfully set his fish trap, patiently waiting amidst the chirping birds and the fresh scent of dew-kissed leaves. Soon, two silver fish, vibrant with life, were secured. As he turned, carrying his catch, and started the familiar path through the dappled sunlight back to his bamboo hut, the tranquility shattered. Yong Hao stood by the hut's entrance, his silhouette stark against the morning's soft glow, his waiting presence a jarring question in the peaceful glade.

Mu Dishi looked at Yong Hao, his voice flat. "What are you doing here?"

"Mu gongzi," Yong Hao began, "How long do you plan to stay here?"

"Does it matter to you?" Mu Dishi retorted, his tone sharp with irritation.

"I asked because if Mu gongzi doesn't want to go out, I will have the disciples drop off some food," Yong Hao explained, his expression earnest.

"I'll let you know if I need any," Mu Dishi replied dismissively. He looked at the one-armed man, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly. He knew that the person standing before him must have truly repented. "The last time I fought with Yong Taihua, I noticed some flaws in the Seven-Stars Formation. Those flaws provide the enemy with many opportunities to attack and defeat it."

Yong Hao's eyes widened slightly. "Really?" He looked at Mu Dishi, a genuine smile touching his lips. "I am all ears for advice."

Mu Dishi's voice became firm. "The Yong have taken care of the Mu graveyard. I don't want to owe anyone a debt. I will teach you a new Seven-Stars Formation in exchange for the Yong to take care of the Mu's graveyard for ten generations."

"Mu gongzi, you don't have to," Yong Hao protested, clearly surprised by the offer.

"Choose three disciples who are willing to learn with their left hand, choose three that only use their right hand, and then choose a leader to lead them," Mu Dishi instructed, his gaze unwavering.

On the next day, Yong Hao showed up with Yong Gui, Yong Taihua, Yong Caixia, two female disciples, and three male disciples.

"Yours Seven-Stars Formation is great," Mu Dishi stated, his tone critical yet instructional, "but the people who use the formation are not very skilled." He looked among the young students, his eyes assessing, and then asked, "Who are left-handed and who are right-handed?"

"Taihua will be the leader of the group," Yong Hao explained, motioning to his nephew. "Those three disciples are left-handed." He pointed to Yong Caixia and two male disciples. "These three here are right-handed." He pointed to the two women and one male disciple. "They are the best seven disciples in Sword Village."

"From now on, I will teach the three right-handed for three days," Mu Dishi laid out the plan, his voice clear and concise. "After that, then I will teach the three left-handed for three days. On the seventh day, I will teach you seven how to combine Wuming moves with Seven-Stars Formation." He looked directly at Yong Taihua. "You will be here every day."

Mu Dishi picked up two swords and began to demonstrate Wuming moves to the young students, his movements fluid and deadly. After showing them the intricate techniques, he looked at Yong Taihua and said coldly, "You will need to learn using both hands."

No matter how much Yong Taihua still resented Mu Dishi, he had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that the swordsmanship Mu Dishi had just displayed was the most exquisite and powerful he had ever witnessed.

"With Wuming moves," Mu Dishi continued, his voice calm, "your Seven-Stars Formation will be impregnable."

For the next three months, the seven disciples of Sword Village practiced Wuming tirelessly under Mu Dishi's tutelage. Yong Taihua didn't leave the bamboo forest, bound by the daily lessons and by Yong Gui and Yong Hao's direct order to stay and take care of Mu Dishi. After staying with Mu Dishi for these past three months, Yong Taihua's initial hatred for Mu Dishi had completely dissolved. In its place, only a profound respect remained.

Mu Dishi and the seven disciples were resting, taking a much-needed break, when a young disciple rushed into the bamboo forest, his face flushed and breathless.

"Da ge... Caixia Shijie..." The young boy got to the table, almost collapsing from exhaustion.

"What is it, didi?" Yong Taihua asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

"There are two young martial artists who are looking for a fight!" the young disciple gasped out.

"Must be those newly rising martial artists who are trying to make a name for themselves," Yong Taihua mused, a hint of disdain in his voice.

"What are we going to do?" Yong Caixia asked, looking at their leader.

"You seven go down," Mu Dishi commanded, his voice calm and authoritative.

When they arrived at Sword Village, they saw two young men in their late twenties already engaged in a furious battle with Yong Gui and six other disciples of Sword Village. Yong Taihua could immediately tell that these two men were highly skilled; the relatively weaker Sword Village disciples were no match for them.

After some time, the original Seven-Stars Formation was broken, and the six Sword Village Disciples were badly injured. Yong Gui stood alone, battered but defiant, with no choice but to continue fighting the two powerful men.

Just as one of the men turned to deliver a crushing blow to Yong Gui, Yong Taihua flew over, a blur of motion, and blocked the attack with his new, fluid Wuming-infused movements. The attacker was caught completely off guard, stumbling several steps backward towards the other man.

"Taihua, why are you here?" Yong Gui asked, his voice filled with surprise and relief.

Yong Taihua helped Yong Gui to stand, then positioned him next to Yong Hao. He looked angrily at the two imposing men, his eyes blazing with a newfound confidence. He then turned to his six classmates. "Seven-Stars Formation!" he shouted, his voice ringing with authority.

One of the men scoffed, "Hmph, again?" He giggled, clearly unimpressed. 

Yong Taihua stood in the middle, holding two swords, his stance radiating power. The two female disciples and the one male disciple standing on the right held their swords in their right hands. Yong Caixia and the two male disciples held their swords in their left hands. The modified formation was ready.

The two challenging men attacked the seven, but to everyone's surprise, only Yong Taihua countered their initial assault. The other six disciples surrounded the three fighting men, forming a tight, impenetrable circle. After a while, Yong Taihua expertly flew out of the encirclement, and the six remaining disciples launched their combined attack on the two men. The six people moved in seamless pairs, one attacking while the other defended, their movements perfectly synchronized.

"Change!" Yong Taihua called out, his command sharp and clear.

The three defenders, who had been guarding, swiftly stabbed towards the two men's feet. In panic, the two men jumped up to evade. The attackers spun in a seamless circle, slicing at the two men everywhere with lightning speed.

"Separate!" Yong Taihua shouted.

The six disciples divided into two groups and quickly executed two backward flips, just as Yong Taihua sent two powerful sword rays hurtling towards the two wounded men. The two sword rays struck the men directly, sending them flying fifty feet away, where they vomited mouthfuls of blood.

One of the men grunted in pain, defeated. "We lose. The Seven-Stars Formation is indeed undefeated," he admitted, his voice hoarse.

The two injured men then left Sword Village, their arrogance shattered.

Four months later, the seven disciples of Sword Village completed their intense training with Mu Dishi. He told them, his voice firm, to never come up to the bamboo forest again, signaling the end of their tutelage. Two days later in the evening, when Mu Dishi returned to his hut with two fishes, Yong Hao was waiting for him, his presence once again a silent harbinger.

"I've made it clear; I don't want to see anyone," Mu Dishi said coldly, his irritation evident.

"I'm here just to pass a message," Yong Hao replied, his tone placating.

"What is it?" Mu Dishi demanded, his patience thin.

"In two days in Jinfeng Sect," Yong Hao delivered the news, his gaze steady, "the young man who was looking for you and Miss Kuo, the daughter of Master Kuo, will get married."

Mu Dishi's expression remained impassive, but a flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes. "Good for him. Is there anything else?" he asked, his voice betraying nothing.

"Mu gongzi, are you planning to get married?" Yong Hao probed, a subtle inquiry in his voice.

Mu Dishi scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. "So my enemies can take them hostage and kill them one by one again?"

"What about the Mu bloodline?" Yong Hao pressed, concern etched on his face.

"It will end with me," Mu Dishi stated flatly, his voice resigned. "Before I die, I will make sure I empty that treasure cave. If you don't have anything else, then get out of my sight."

"Amitabha..." Yong Hao murmured, a sorrowful expression on his face. "You have a good day, Mu gongzi." Yong Hao then turned and walked back towards Mu Village, leaving Mu Dishi once again to his solitude.

Mu Dishi had decided not to get married a long time ago, precisely because he didn't want to see another family member being killed in front of him. He took his two fish, and he walked back to the kitchen, the weight of his past a constant companion.