Legacy of the Blade

Liu Tiandong, holding a makeshift "sword," felt a surge of excitement at the thought that he might one day own a real blade. Tossing the branch aside, he began running around, hollering wildly like a spirit haunting the wilderness.

Recalling a few boxing moves secretly taught to him by Master Ruan, Liu Tiandong practiced with gusto, his movements precise and powerful, creating a gust of wind as he punched and kicked.

As the boy approached the northern corridor bridge, he noticed a group of four sitting near the stairs.

A graceful and elegant woman held a young boy draped in a crimson cloak on her lap. The boy, head held high like a victorious general, looked smug. At the top of the stairs sat an elderly man with snow-white hair, broad and imposing like a small mountain. He spoke in a low voice, trying to soothe a little girl who was clearly upset. She had delicate, doll-like features, her translucent skin glowing under the sunlight, revealing faint blue veins beneath.

The two children had just finished bickering. The little girl was on the verge of tears, while the boy looked even more triumphant.

The elderly man, whose strong presence could not be ignored, seemed indifferent to the apologetic glance the woman cast his way.

Standing at the bottom of the steps was a young man, Luo Zhengchun, the eldest grandson of the Luo family patriarch. He was once considered the pride of their small town, a place known for producing unusually attractive people. However, years of indulgence in wine and women had left him pale, rigid, and uneasy in the presence of these four figures. His previous air of dominance in the town was nowhere to be seen.

The Luo family, known for their lucrative ceramic kiln operations, had long held a significant presence in the town. Many of their descendants had ventured beyond its borders to establish themselves elsewhere. Yet, here stood Luo Zhengchun, a shadow of his former self, clearly aware of the tension surrounding him.

The boy in the crimson cloak suddenly spoke words incomprehensible to the townsfolk, "Mother, this boy from the Liu family, is his ancestor truly that..."

Before he could finish, the elegant woman gently covered his mouth, saying, "Your father reminded you before we left—do not casually mention names here."

Shrugging off her hand, the boy's eyes burned with curiosity as he lowered his voice to ask, "Is it true that his family has passed down an ancestral armor and a sword manual?"

The woman affectionately stroked the boy's head, her voice soft. "The Luo family has vouched for it with half of their family records. Those treasures are indeed hidden in that boy's home."

Suddenly, the boy whined, "Mother, can we trade some of our treasures with the Bai family for that sword manual? The armor we've been eyeing is hideous. Just think, with the manual, I could wield a flying sword in my dreams and silently take heads—it's far superior to a turtle shell, don't you think?"

Before the woman could explain the complexities, the little girl on the other side of the bridge erupted in anger. "How dare you think of laying a hand on the long-lost treasure of my family! We're here to rightfully reclaim what belongs to us, unlike shameless thieves, robbers, or beggars!"

The boy made a face at her before smirking. "Silly girl, even you admit it's a 'mountain treasure.' It's just a matter of rank—what's so impressive about that?"

His expression suddenly shifted, becoming serious. Rising from his mother's lap, he looked down at the girl with a condescending gaze, like a learned scholar lecturing an ignorant pupil. "The path to immortality is one of defiance—it's all about struggle. If you can't grasp this simple truth, how will you inherit your family's legacy or uphold its traditions? Your clan, the Yangshan descendants, must elevate Mount Zhengyang by at least 100 zhang every 30 years. Do you think it's been easy for your grandfather or father to uphold this?"

The little girl, overwhelmed, lowered her head, her earlier defiance replaced with dejection.

The elderly man with snow-white hair spoke firmly. "Madam, while we tolerate childish words, if they disrupt the focus of my young master, you must bear the consequences."

The woman, with a charming smile, pulled her now-sullen son back into her arms. Her voice was sweet yet sharp. "They're just children squabbling, Senior Yuan. Let's not ruin the centuries-old friendship between our families over this."

But the old man, his temperament unyielding, retorted, "We of Yangshan have stood for 2,600 years. We repay kindness with kindness, never forgetting a favor—but we also repay enmity with enmity. Our grudges are never carried into the next day."

The woman smiled faintly, choosing not to argue further.

This trip to the town carried immense stakes for everyone involved, especially her. She was gambling not only her life but also her son's future and her family's standing. The stakes were all or nothing.

Though modestly dressed, her demeanor was poised and dignified—something the townsfolk couldn't fully comprehend.

Throughout this tense scene, Luo Zhengchun remained with his back to the steps.

When he first encountered these esteemed guests in the Luo estate, his younger brother—a rash, impulsive man—had briefly forgotten their grandfather's warnings and sneaked a glance at the alluring woman's chest. His boldness cost him dearly, as their grandfather, enraged, ordered his immediate execution in the courtyard. The punishment was swift and brutal, muffled to prevent the guests from noticing.

Luo Zhengchun, who stayed behind with his grandfather for discussions, heard neither his brother's screams nor the grisly details of the act. When he finally stepped outside to guide the guests, he saw the courtyard meticulously cleaned, with no trace of blood. Even the elegant children, as beautiful as celestial beings, seemed unperturbed, as though such events were routine.

At that moment, Luo Zhengchun felt a profound sense of confusion.

A human life had been extinguished—why did it feel less significant than a dog's death?

And that man had been his brother, who, just a night before, had drunkenly vowed to rise to greatness alongside him. They had dreamed of escaping the small-town life, of conquering the world together.

Yet, leaving the Luo estate, Luo Zhengchun's mind was blank.

Faced with the guests' imposing presence, his voice quivered when they asked questions. His steps faltered as he led the way, knowing his awkwardness made him a laughingstock. Worse, he feared he was disappointing his grandfather and shaming his family.

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't suppress the fear coursing through him—an icy terror that seemed to seep from his very bones.