Wen Li did not want to be too overbearing, so she softened her tone. “This child is just like you; he’s had a dream of the Dao of the Sword since he was young. It’s not that he lacks talent, but rather that he hasn't found the right moment to awaken it. You were once the top swordsman in the entire cultivation realm of the Eastern Province. Years ago, at the Central Province Aptitude Battle, you claimed the top spot by breaking ten thousand laws with a single sword, making a name for yourself across the Central Province. You even created your own ‘Carefree Sword Manual,’ standing undefeated against dozens of Soul Formation cultivators.”
“If you teach him, he’ll have a chance to take up the sword and break his fate. He won’t...”
She didn't finish the sentence, but a flicker of memory appeared in Wangquan Chumo’s eyes, and a trace of deep-seated sorrow emerged from beneath his world-weary gaze.
He seemed to vaguely understand her meaning and couldn't help but look up at her. “Senior, do you mean to say that this child will also face a calamity in the future?”
Wen Li nodded.
“Senior, in terms of your attainments in the Dao of the Sword, you are above me. Why not teach him yourself?” Wangquan Chumo was puzzled. He was half-crippled and hadn't touched a sword in hundreds of years.
“He cannot learn my Dao of the Sword, nor will he.” Besides, she didn't have the time for one-on-one instruction.
Clarity returned to Wangquan Chumo’s eyes, and the sorrow dissipated—or rather, it was buried deep back into his heart. He let out a long sigh with his head tilted back slightly, then raised his hand to down the pungent wine.
“Fine, I will teach him the Dao of the Sword.”
His tone shifted. “However, I hope Senior will promise me one thing.”
“Speak.”
“If there comes a day when this child meets the same fate as I did, I ask that Senior show a shred of master-disciple sentiment and spare his Sword Heart.”
Wen Li lazily lifted her eyelids to look directly at him. “You blame me.”
“No, I stopped blaming anyone a long time ago.” Wangquan Chumo gave a bitter smile and shook his head slightly. “I only blame myself—blame myself for being too confident in my strength back then, and blame the Heavenly Dao for its unfairness in choosing me.”
“...Fine, I promise you,” Wen Li said after a long silence, finally relenting.
Surprise flickered in Wangquan Chumo’s eyes, and some of the doubts in his heart cleared. It seemed that this time was different.
“Then please bring him here in three days, Senior.”
“Very well.” Wen Li nodded and stood up to leave.
Suddenly, she stopped and turned her head slightly. “There is someone named Wangquan Sheng among your descendants in the Beiqiong Kingdom. I don't like him.”
Wangquan Chumo frowned, searching his mind for the name to no avail. He hadn't concerned himself with the affairs of the imperial family for a thousand years; it was likely someone from the younger generation. He asked softly, “Does Senior wish for me to eliminate him?”
He knew she was always fickle and prone to slaughter. Even if a junior hadn't intentionally provoked her, it could still bring disaster, and even if he wanted to protect them, he would be unable to resist her.
“No.”
Wen Li shook her head. “There is no need for you to kill him. Just bestow some small favors on him occasionally to make him trust you.”
Compared to others, Wangquan Chumo, as an elder of the same clan, would be more likely to make Wangquan Sheng let down his guard.
Upon hearing this, Wangquan Chumo immediately understood her intention, but as someone who could be considered an ancestor, the thought of plotting against a junior filled him with a bit of shame.
Yet he knew he could not refuse, so he simply asked, “How did he offend you?”
If it were any other issue, he could apologize on behalf of the junior and resolve the misunderstanding.
But if...
Coincidentally, Wen Li said, “He is blocking my disciple’s path.”
At these words, Wangquan Chumo’s dark pupils shifted. A flash of regret and pity passed through his eyes, and he eventually sighed and closed them, knowing he was powerless to change the outcome.
“...Fine. As long as Senior does not involve the people of Beiqiong Kingdom, I will do it.”
Wen Li left, leaving behind the empty medicine shop.
Wangquan Chumo slowly stood up and walked to the entrance hall at the very back of the shop. With a wave of his hand, a mechanism turned, and a massive chest slid out.
It was a sword casket. The wood looked old, but there wasn't a speck of dust on it; it was clear that someone frequently wiped and cherished it.
Wangquan Chumo bowed his head and slowly reached out to stroke the casket.
“A'ying, do you still hate me...?”
...
Wen Li followed the map toward the Moquan Sect.
The system was curious. [Host, you were really something during the ten thousand years before I met you. You can actually deal with the top swordsman of the Eastern Province on such terms, but you're only at the Foundation Establishment realm. Why does he call you ‘Senior’?]
Wen Li, flying on her sword high in the sky, raised a hand to gallantly brush her hair back, acting cool and composed.
“A skyscraper rises from the ground, but survival out here depends on oneself. What's wrong with being at the Foundation Establishment realm? Don't look down on any cultivator’s survival skills. My cultivation might be low, but I have plenty of schemes. I saved him once thousands of years ago. He's younger than me, so if he doesn't call me ‘Senior,’ is he supposed to call me ‘little friend’?]”
The system disdained her shamelessness. [Host, have you never looked in a mirror?]
“I’ve already checked my reflection in a puddle, and I’m quite good-looking.” Wen Li scoffed and rolled her eyes at the system’s jab.
But this time, the system wasn't so easily fooled. It wasn't clear if it had successfully improved itself by reading, but it questioned her.
[Host, this Wangquan Chumo is a top swordsman of the Eastern Province cultivation realm. How could he be threatened with a life-saving debt by someone at the Foundation Establishment realm like you?]
The night grew darker, and the clouds in the sky became obscured. The air around them turned cold. Ahead was a vast range of deep mountains and dense forests. Aside from the whistling wind from flying at high altitudes, the only other sound was the occasional, eerie, raspy cawing of crows.
Wen Li, who had already memorized the map, flew over the forest and spoke calmly.
“Because...”
“His Sword Heart was destroyed by me. He can't move against me.”
The system had no physical body and was only data, yet at that moment, it felt an inexplicable chill—the cold, heartless tone in Wen Li’s voice was infectious.
It didn't understand what a Sword Heart was, but it had been mentioned during the conversation between Wangquan Chumo and Wen Li. Wangquan Chumo’s condition for teaching Gu Linshu was for Wen Li to spare the boy's Sword Heart.
Evidently, the Sword Heart was extremely precious to a swordsman.
Stated this way, everything made sense.
...
In the deepest level of the Moquan Sect’s dungeon.
“Are you done yet? Ah, Senior Sister Shao Jing, you bit my pinky!”
“Gong Xu! Stop licking around with your tongue! You're supposed to be biting the rope, what are you doing?!”
A series of messy sounds echoed from the pitch-black cell.
Even an old man like Luo Yuntian found it hard to save face, especially since there was an outsider present. He barked an order from where he lay on the ground.
“That's enough! What are you making such a racket about while biting a rope? Everyone, be quiet!”
They were all used to acting crazy on normal days, but even now they didn't know the weight of the situation. He’d have to give them extra training once they got back.
Of the six people from Danfeng Valley, the five disciples formed a circle, trying to use their teeth to bite through the ropes binding the person in front of them.
“Oh...” What was the old man yelling for? Weren't they doing this to save him? If he were so capable, he should bite it himself.
Rebuked like that, they became a bit more restrained and honest. No one spoke; they just lay on the ground with their mouths open, solely relying on their iron teeth to tear at the Immortal-Binding Rope on the person in front.
Fearing the damage to Danfeng Valley’s image, Luo Yuntian turned his head in the darkness toward Gu Linshu.
“Young friend...”
“I-I’ll pass.”
The well-mannered youth hurriedly spoke up to decline before the old man could finish, deeply afraid the old man would ask him to bite the rope on his hands or come over to bite the youth's own ropes.
That image was too much for him to imagine, let alone experience.
Master, please hurry.
He’d much rather be with his master than with these lunatics. At least his master was somewhat reliable.
Even if it wasn't by much.
“...” Pass? Pass what?
Luo Yuntian paused and immediately realized the youth had misunderstood. Worried his reputation was at stake, he quickly explained.
“No... Young friend, that’s not what I meant. I wanted to ask if you have anything on you that could undo or cut this Immortal-Binding Rope?”
Those five fools had commendable courage, truly believing their teeth were comparable to a hyena’s and could bite through a Low-Grade artifact like the Immortal-Binding Rope.
With a black cloth covering his eyes, making the bridge of his nose look even more elegantly curved, Gu Linshu turned his face slightly and thought seriously.
He had been searched, and all his storage bags had been taken. Fortunately, his master had the foresight to take away his more valuable storage bag beforehand; otherwise, the Moquan Sect would have truly hit the jackpot.
“I-I, I have a s-s-soft sword sewn into the i-i-inner lining of my b-b-belt. You can g-g-give it a t-t-t-try.” His master had taught him many such hidden life-saving tricks for situations like this, and he picked the easiest one to execute.
As soon as he spoke, the five disciples—who had been focusing so hard on biting the ropes that their teeth were almost bleeding—immediately looked up.
“?”
Brother, why didn't you say so earlier?
Rate on N.U.
