Borrowed Sword

Chapter 74: Sword’s King

At the foot of Hidden Spirit Mountain, Li Chunsong and the others lifted their heads, watching Chu Huaixu move swiftly as if flying.

“The spiritual pressure on the mountain doesn’t seem to affect him much.” Nangong Yue smiled, her voice soft and melodious like Wu dialect.

“Of course. This is only the foot of the mountain. Such a slight discomfort doesn’t mean anything to him.” Li Chunsong said.

Hearing this, Nangong Yue turned to look at him and asked, “Sixth Senior Brother seems to care quite a lot about him. Is it because you brought him and Shuangjiang up the mountain, or because he helped you win a gambling round?”

She asked deliberately in a teasing tone.

Unexpectedly, the Benevolent Gambling King remained frank.

“I brought them up the mountain according to Little Martial Uncle’s instructions. That’s certainly one of the reasons. But mainly, it’s because he helped me win a round. I quite admire this kid!”

“Ninth Junior Sister, you know me. When it comes to gambling, I always lose.”

“The last time I won… was many, many years ago.”

As he spoke, Li Chunsong glanced at Nangong Yue, then suddenly smiled.

Seeing the smile on his face, Nangong Yue couldn’t help recalling that afternoon many years ago.

She watched him smiling, yet felt a sudden sadness in her heart, thinking of someone who was no longer in this world.

In the end, it was this dead gambling dog who revealed a consoling expression, gently patting Nangong Yue on the shoulder.

Back then, all of them had still been True Disciples of the Dao Gate.

The Dao Gate had many inner disciples, but there were only thirty-three slots for True Disciples.

The Sect Master, along with ten Elders, could each take three disciples. That was the Dao Gate’s True Transmission.

But cultivation was a defiance of Heaven itself, and coupled with the turmoil of the Xuanhuang Realm and the calamities wrought by demons, casualties were inevitable.

Of the thirty-three True Disciples of that time, only half remained now.

Li Chunsong, the man who always lost at gambling, last won a wager twenty years ago.

It had been a lively afternoon. All the Dao Gate True Disciples gathered outside the great hall of Ask-Dao Peak, and many teachers were drawn over by the commotion, rushing to watch.

That year, even Little Martial Uncle had still been a rebellious middle-aged sword cultivator. He had hurried over, chewing on a stem of foxtail grass, sitting atop an ancient tree outside the hall, arms around his sword, looking down at the crowd.

All that liveliness had been for the sake of a wager.

“Sixth Senior Brother, I know you like me. Let’s roll dice together. No spiritual energy allowed, no cheating. We’ll only compare numbers—pure luck. Our fellow disciples and teachers shall bear witness! If your roll is higher than mine, then I’ll agree to you!”

The eleventh-ranked female True Disciple raised her head proudly, lively and charming.

Li Chunsong was so excited he nearly howled at the sky, rubbing his palms frantically.

He had liked his Eleventh Junior Sister for a very, very long time—so long that he himself might have forgotten just how many years it had been.

The Dao Gate seemed to lack that aloof “masterly” air. Whether disciples or teachers, all of them joined in the ruckus.

Even Little Martial Uncle sitting in the tree widened his eyes, spat out the foxtail grass with a “ptoo,” and watched intently.

By sect rules, setting up a private gambling match required paying a silver coin fine. That fine, of course, was something Little Martial Uncle loudly declared he would cover.

Li Chunsong was dumbstruck, and under the pushes and shoves of his fellow disciples, was shoved into the front.

Like a fly, he rubbed his hands madly and kept breathing into his palms.

But alas, how could one be so unlucky? Under everyone’s encouragement and watchful eyes, he rolled the dice—and got a “2”!

Li Chunsong slumped onto a stone bench, half his soul gone.

Meanwhile, Eleventh Junior Sister casually tossed her dice into the air, and when they landed—it was a “6”!

Such terrifying luck.

Yet, before everyone’s eyes, she openly circulated her spiritual energy, flicked her finger, and flipped the dice into a “1.”

She had cheated, and she had done it blatantly!

What happened to “relying on luck”?

But that day, including Little Martial Uncle, everyone proclaimed that Li Chunsong had won.

Dao Gate’s Sixth Senior Brother, a man who lost every single gamble in his life, had his one victory twenty years ago—and only because the other party had openly cheated, deliberately letting him win.

Li Chunsong could never forget that day.

That young woman’s eyes sparkled, her lips curled upward, and with a bow, she said playfully,

“Sixth Senior Brother is amazing. Junior Sister accepts her loss!”

Twenty years ago, it had been a cloudy day.

After the gamble ended, a heavy downpour fell.

Yet when Li Chunsong raised his head to look at the sky now, in his memory, that day had been filled with brilliant sunshine and clear skies.

At this moment, Han Shuangjiang stood to the side, not knowing why the Ninth Elder suddenly grew sorrowful while the Sixth Elder smiled faintly.

The time of one incense stick was nearly over.

It was soon her turn to climb the mountain.

Before her turn came, she overheard the two elders still talking.

“Why is this Chu Huaixu walking so slowly? Stopping and starting, one incense stick has already passed, yet he hasn’t even reached the area with spiritual artifacts.” Li Chunsong frowned.

The foot of Hidden Spirit Mountain had 3,333 stone steps. From the 1,111th step onward, spiritual artifacts were placed on both sides, available for selection.

If a disciple climbing the mountain couldn’t endure under the pressure of the spiritual suppression until reaching that point, they would have no choice but to return empty-handed.

But soon, Li Chunsong seemed to realize something.

He waggled his brows at Han Shuangjiang, clicking his tongue again and again.

“Is this kid perhaps deliberately waiting for you? Hm?” Once again, he started playing matchmaker.

And for some reason, he seemed especially enthusiastic about it today.

Even Nangong Yue, upon hearing this, smiled brightly at Han Shuangjiang, as if she too had returned to that afternoon of the past.

The icy expression on Big Ice Block’s face immediately vanished. Under the gazes of her elders, she couldn’t help lowering her head slightly, her cheeks tinged red.

“H-how would I know why he’s walking so slowly!” she said in her heart.

She never understood what that Dead Fox was thinking all day long.

In the end, it was Nangong Yue who withdrew her smile and said, “Alright, Shuangjiang, you may climb the mountain now.”

“Yes.” Han Shuangjiang received the order and stepped onto the stone steps.

When she stepped onto the first stone step, she paused slightly.

She experienced what was called spiritual pressure.

The physical oppression on her body was secondary—the main burden came from the spiritual level, pressing against her Sea of Consciousness.

Fortunately, this discomfort was very light for her.

Big Ice Block’s expression didn’t change as she began quickly ascending.

“Perhaps if I walk faster, I might really catch up to him?” she thought.

Seeing Han Shuangjiang begin climbing as well, the dead gambling dog immediately started rubbing his palms.

“Ninth Junior Sister, let’s go, let’s go! Let’s hurry to the great hall!”

Nangong Yue was helpless. She knew this Sixth Senior Brother was probably about to clamor for another wager.

The two of them soared through the air, heading toward the great hall of Ask-Dao Peak.

Sect Master Xiang Yan and the others were already waiting for the two of them inside the hall.

On the other side, Chu Huaixu had already climbed past nine hundred steps.

“I remember seeing a post before that said, every 111 steps on Hidden Spirit Mountain, the spiritual pressure would increase.”

Thus, he had been stopping and starting along the way, carefully sensing.

An incense stick of time had passed, and he still hadn’t reached the place where spiritual artifacts were placed.

“This is strange. Why don’t I feel anything at all?” Chu Huaixu was puzzled.

He didn’t feel even the slightest trace of discomfort.

In fact, he felt that standing on this mountain was utterly refreshing!

“It’s just comfortable, an indescribable kind of comfort.”

“Like staying too long in a polluted city, then suddenly going to a place with clear mountains and fresh waters.”

“The air might not be literally sweet, but the heart feels clear and delighted!”

Chu Huaixu knew well that spiritual pressure brought oppression to both the body and the Sea of Consciousness, though it was mainly concentrated on the latter.

The disciples climbing Hidden Spirit Mountain all had only First Realm cultivation. With the toughness of his body, he dared not claim to be unprecedented, but he was certainly among the best.

It was inevitable that he would feel no discomfort physically.

Thus, he calmed his mind and turned his focus to observing his Sea of Consciousness.

Inside his Sea of Consciousness, that Black Small Sword still looked feeble and sickly.

As his cultivation steadily advanced, the condition of the Black Small Sword had been improving, but it was still lifeless, the changes extremely subtle.

“But does it seem a little more spirited than usual?” Chu Huaixu thought.

He was linked heart-to-heart with the Black Small Sword, so even the slightest change would not escape his notice.

“【Sword cuts the body, the heart cuts the soul】.”

“Perhaps because of it, this spiritual pressure aimed at the Sea of Consciousness poses no threat to me.” In his heart, he faintly grasped an answer.

“After all, its status is actually very high. It already possesses 【Sword Heart Clarity】.”

With this thought, he stopped studying further and decided not to halt again.

Chu Huaixu quickened his pace, speeding up the mountain.

In any case, he had never intended to even glance at the spiritual artifacts in the mountain’s lower area.

“Big Ice Block should have started climbing as well, right?”

“Hmph! I need to move faster!”

“Big Ice Block, you can just follow behind me and eat dust!”

Chu Huaixu laughed heartily and began charging up the mountain.

The wind blew at his black robe, whipping it sharply.

The more he ran, the better he felt, as though the stronger the spiritual pressure grew, the more exhilarated he became.

Soon, Chu Huaixu reached the 1111th step in one go.

From here upward, spiritual artifacts were placed chaotically along the steps, with no order.

According to his original plan, he intended to sprint past the entire mountainside area.

He had no plans to take any of the spiritual artifacts placed here, not wanting to waste time.

Yet his steps still halted.

Chu Huaixu stood upon the 1111th step, gazing upward into the distance.

Hidden Spirit Mountain was perpetually shrouded in thick mist. One could only see clearly a dozen meters ahead, beyond which everything grew hazy.

At this moment, he felt somewhat dazed.

For right beside the step before him, there lay a sword.

This sword seemed unremarkable, looking much like an ordinary Qingfeng sword from the mortal world.

And just a few steps higher, there was another sword—a short sword.

Within the hazy mist ahead, he could vaguely discern more outlines of swords, looming faintly.

All of these swords were trembling!

Chu Huaixu’s five senses were now heightened, his hearing far surpassing that of a normal First Realm cultivator.

Listening closely, he heard countless trembling sounds coming from within the unseen mist above—there were so many!

And the cause of it all… was simply that the Black Small Sword within his Sea of Consciousness had—trembled lightly.

Just this alone stirred the entire area, making every spiritual sword tremble! And they trembled without ceasing.

It was as though it sat high upon the throne of swords, their king.

Though it appeared listless, though it looked frail, with just one lazy glance cast downward, all those kneeling below could not help but be filled with fear.