“Hmm, that’s it. This lord has hit you back.”
He called it a hit, but in truth, it was incredibly light. Just a single finger gently tapped her forehead, so soft that Sang Dai didn’t even flinch. With that, Su Xuan’s “revenge” was complete.
Sang Dai asked, “…That’s it?”
The corners of Su Xuan’s lips curved slightly. “Of course not. The rest, you owe this lord. I’ll get my revenge another time.”
They were standing very close. The fiery warmth radiating from the Nine-Tailed Fox was so intense that Sang Dai could feel it emanating from his body.
Those crystalline eyes seemed to speak.
[If possible, I hope you’ll kiss it. That way, it won’t hurt anymore.]
If she kissed the scar she left on him, it would no longer be a scar in his mind. From then on, whenever he saw it, he would think of her.
Sang Dai covered her forehead, as if Su Xuan’s warmth still lingered there. As expected of an ancient divine beast capable of controlling sacred flames.
Every day, his inner thoughts told her just how much he liked her. No one had ever liked her so much before.
He really, really liked her.
Sang Dai’s breath was filled with Su Xuan’s presence. She found herself unexpectedly calm in accepting his words now.
She rubbed her forehead and laughed. “Hmm, your revenge seems a little too simple.”
The faintest trace of a smile appeared in Su Xuan’s eyes, though his expression remained cool. He said, “Does Miss Sang still remember her promise to this lord?”
“I remember. When I return to my peak, I’ll fight you.”
“When we leave Bairen Alley, you’ll fight this lord, and I’ll be sure to exact my revenge properly.”
Sang Dai lowered her hand and asked, “But I’m a sword cultivator. Can I borrow your Qingwu Sword to fight you?”
Her Zhiyu Sword had been broken.
Su Xuan straightened his posture, his tall frame casting a shadow that completely enveloped Sang Dai.
“You can, but,” he said, taking the broken sword out of his Qiankun Pouch, “Sang Dai, this lord would prefer you to use your Zhiyu Sword.”
Sang Dai’s gaze fell on the broken sword cradled in Su Xuan’s hands. He had specifically instructed Liu Lixue to bring it back.
The Tianyu Stone embedded in the sword hilt had dimmed completely, its Guixu spiritual energy exhausted. Now, it was just an ordinary rock.
The smile at the corner of Sang Dai’s lips slowly faded.
In that battle, Zhiyu had been destroyed because of her—it had drawn heavenly lightning and become a broken sword, entirely unusable.
She had thought she would die with Zhiyu, but in the end, only Zhiyu had perished.
Sang Dai raised her hand, wanting to touch Zhiyu, but her fingertips hovered in the air, unable to land on the sword’s body no matter how much she tried.
She was afraid. A sword cultivator, afraid to touch her own sword.
Sang Dai whispered, “Su Xuan, I…”
“Sang Dai, touch Zhiyu.”
His warm, dry hand wrapped around hers, her hand pressed against his palm. Su Xuan guided her hand to touch Zhiyu’s blade.
Instinctively, Sang Dai wanted to pull away, but Su Xuan held on firmly, giving her no chance to retreat.
“Sang Dai, feel it.”
Sang Dai blinked. “…Feel what?”
Her heartbeat faltered slightly. She could sense that there was more to Su Xuan’s words than what he was saying.
Su Xuan replied, “Zhiyu’s sword spirit.”
For a moment, Sang Dai didn’t understand what he was talking about.
“…Sword spirit?”
“Yes. You are Zhiyu’s master. You’re the most likely person to awaken it.”
Awaken?
Sang Dai snapped back to her senses and tightened her grip on Zhiyu’s hilt, her movements hurried and slightly clumsy.
She quickly closed her eyes, delving into her sea of consciousness…
Sure enough, she found a faint glimmer of light.
The glow was incredibly weak, just beside the artifact spirit of Changmang. Under the dazzling brilliance of Changmang, Zhiyu’s sword spirit was so dim and fragile that it was almost impossible to see.
But no matter how faint, it was there.
It was Zhiyu’s sword spirit.
She had thought that Zhiyu’s sword spirit had been completely destroyed.
Changmang’s artifact spirit seemed to have just noticed the strange presence beside it. It even faintly sensed the aura of a Heaven-grade artifact emanating from the tiny point of light.
Joyfully, the artifact spirit began circling around the small orb, actively sharing some of its own light with it.
Sang Dai was Zhiyu’s master, but the first to notice Zhiyu’s sword spirit was Su Xuan.
“Sang Dai,” Su Xuan said, “the Tianyu Stone contains the purest Guixu spiritual energy. Zhiyu was forged from the Tianyu Stone, and its sword spirit was naturally attuned to communicate with Guixu spiritual energy. Zhiyu’s sword spirit can be reawakened as long as this sword still exists.”
He released his grip on Sang Dai’s hand, leaving Zhiyu entirely in her grasp.
She lifted her gaze and met Su Xuan’s eyes.
“Sang Dai, the Zhiyu Sword is the greatest sword in the world. Only it is worthy of you,” Su Xuan said. “That’s why this lord wants you to use Zhiyu again and fight me, just like in the past hundred years.”
When the Zhiyu Sword is unsheathed, all evil is eradicated.
The hilt of the Zhiyu Sword in her palm was growing hot. In Sang Dai’s sea of consciousness, the artifact spirit of Changmang had surrounded Zhiyu’s sword spirit, as if recognizing it as its master’s sword. Changmang kept trying to communicate with Zhiyu, attempting to awaken it.
This was Zhiyu, the sword that had been with her for a hundred years.
Sang Dai held the Zhiyu Sword tightly. Under Su Xuan’s gaze, her nose tingled slightly with emotion, but suddenly, a smile bloomed on her face.
“Alright, Su Xuan.”
She put away the Zhiyu Sword and handed the Qingwu Sword resting on the windowsill to Su Xuan.
“Just like the past hundred years: you wield Qingwu, I use Zhiyu, and we’ll fight again.”
The sword cultivator seemed to have returned to her old self, her expression brimming with confidence and pride.
Su Xuan accepted Qingwu calmly. “Alright.”
Their eyes met, the scene initially serious, but Sang Dai suddenly heard a voice in her sea of consciousness, full of excitement.
[…I like her so much. Damn it, how can she look this good?]
He wasn’t nearly as composed as he appeared on the surface.
Sang Dai couldn’t hold back her laughter, her smile curving into an arc.
[She looks even better when she smiles, her eyes turning into little crescent moons. I want to kiss her.]
Sang Dai touched her eyes, an impulsive thought rising within her. She blurted out directly, “Su Xuan, do you think I’m beautiful?”
The tips of the fox’s ears turned red. Even though the tips of his tail might as well have turned pink, he kept his expression stern. His eyes flicked over Sang Dai, and he replied coolly, “Not bad.”
But Sang Dai heard something else entirely.
[Beautiful, beautiful, unbelievably beautiful!!! My Dai Dai is the most beautiful female cultivator in the Four Realms! I want to kiss her!]
Sang Dai nodded with a smile. “Oh, I see.”
Su Xuan’s eyes avoided hers. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he turned his head to the side, no longer looking at her.
“It’s late. Get some rest.”
He seemed calm, but before his head fully turned, the corners of his lips had already curved into a grin.
Sang Dai saw everything.
Not only that, she noticed the two ears on top of his head had appeared again. The soft, fluffy silver ears twitched slightly, standing upright amidst his silver hair. She was tempted to reach out and touch them.
Just as he was about to leave the room, Su Xuan stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Sang Dai, there is something this lord must say as well.”
Sang Dai listened quietly.
In a deep voice, Su Xuan said:
“You have always been this lord’s only opponent.”
The door closed behind him, leaving her alone in the room.
The window was still open, and without Su Xuan, the natural source of warmth, the wind blew in, and Sang Dai belatedly felt the chill.
She turned to close the window.
With the window shut, the cold wind was sealed out.
Sang Dai lowered her head, and the Bind Silk on her left wrist came into view.
She paused for a long time, then suddenly curved her lips into a faint smile and touched Changmang.
Changmang nuzzled against her affectionately.
After a while, the soft voice of the sword cultivator echoed in the room.
“I feel the same.”
—
Tianque Mountain, Sword Sect.
Among the Three Sects and Six Clans of the Immortal Realm, the Sword Sect, though not the leading sect, held a significant position by virtue of its name alone. Moreover, out of the total seven Heaven-grade spiritual root awakeners in the cultivation world, the Sword Sect had three.
Sang Dai of the Sword Sect, Shen Ciyu of the Sword Sect, and Ying Heng Immortal Lord of the Sword Sect.
Even though Ying Heng was now hunted and besieged, he had once been part of the Sword Sect, and its strength remained formidable.
Perhaps there were even more Heaven-grade spiritual root awakeners yet to surface. Once something becomes common, it is no longer cherished.
While other sects treated Heaven-grade spiritual root awakeners as treasures, only the Sword Sect treated them as swords.
In the spacious grand hall, Shen Ciyu knelt with a pale face. Even in this position, his spine remained ramrod straight.
Shen Feng sat to the side, while Madam Shi occupied the high seat of the main platform.
“Rebellious son, do you mean to go against the marriage agreement with the Sword Sect?” Shen Feng roared.
The teacup in Shen Feng’s hand was hurled to the ground, shattering into pieces. The shards cut Shen Ciyu’s face, leaving a shallow wound.
Still injured, Shen Ciyu looked ghastly pale, and the blood flowing from his wound made his pallor even more apparent.
Shen Ciyu was Sang Wenzhou’s last disciple and the Sword Sect’s senior disciple. Even though Madam Shi was furious, she couldn’t help but intervene when she saw this.
“Master Shen, Ciyu’s body has not yet recovered.”
Shen Feng’s anger was, in truth, for show. Shen Ciyu was the young master of the Shen family, and his actions were meant to demonstrate to the Sword Sect where the Shen family stood.
He hoped Shen Ciyu would be more sensible, but Shen Ciyu remained as stubborn as ever.
Lowering his head, Shen Ciyu said calmly, “Ciyu is devoted to the Dao and has no intention of starting a family. I fear I would only bring trouble to Junior Sister Shi Yao.”
Shen Feng moved as if to kick him, but Madam Shi stopped him.
“Brother Shen, don’t harm your health. The child is grown now and cannot be beaten like this.”
Madam Shi’s eyes were red, her face pale, and it was clear she was mentally and physically exhausted, likely from crying for a long time.
But Shen Feng’s anger was justified.
Shen Ciyu might not understand, but the elders certainly did. Shi Yao was the true eldest daughter of the Sword Sect. While Sang Dai was a Heaven-grade spiritual root awakener, she was, in truth, just a sword for the sect. Her personal strength, no matter how impressive, was far too insignificant compared to the Sword Sect’s entire background.