Legacy of the Blade

If the bag of treasures belonging to Tai Jin Jian hadn't been empty, and if her sect urgently needed a powerful "artifact of celestial might" to stabilize its luck and prevent it from dissipating, she might have stayed to use it to solidify her position as the sect leader. But as things stood, Tai Jin Jian wished she could leave immediately, return to Yunhe Mountain, and enter closed-door cultivation for ten or twenty years.

Tai Jin Jian walked toward Fu Nan Hua and the maidservant in the narrow alley.

The young man behind them called out, "You didn't do anything to me, did you?"

Without turning her head, Tai Jin Jian replied, "Kid, you're overthinking things."

The young man fell silent.

She glanced back, a sly smile on her face, and teased, "You'll probably die within six months."

The boy froze in shock.

She let out a charming laugh and added, "You're so gullible! Big sister was just messing with you."

Chen Ping An cracked a smile.

Both Tai Jin Jian and Fu Nan Hua—these two seemingly celestial beings—shared a sudden thought: a frog at the bottom of a well, an ant at the foot of the mountain.

Meanwhile, Song Ji Xin squatted atop a nearby wall, watching the scene unfold. He massaged his temples, his expression unusually serious for once.

Even though Zhi Kui had already led his eccentric older sister to confront Gu San, the slug, and the wealthy young man who carelessly flaunted his riches had entered his yard, Song Ji Xin remained deep in thought.

From his perch, he saw the enigmatic, sharp-eyed boy standing in the muddy alley, staring briefly at the tall, slender woman's retreating figure before averting his gaze and heading toward his yard. But oddly, he didn't push open the bamboo gate for a long time.

Song Ji Xin detested this feeling: an ordinary person, unremarkable in every way, suddenly becoming like a stubborn stain—ugly if left there, and filthy if removed.

So much so that he barely registered Fu Nan Hua's words behind him and had to ask the celestial young master to repeat himself.

"Song Ji Xin, do you know there's a kind of person in this world who is fundamentally different from people like you?" Fu Nan Hua asked again.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Song Ji Xin turned to face the elegantly dressed Fu Nan Hua and replied flatly, "I know."

Fu Nan Hua hesitated, swallowing the rest of his prepared speech, but he still couldn't resist asking, "Do you really?"

The young boy, with an icy gaze, let out a mocking laugh. "Are you trying to tell me about beings who are immortal, with bones of jade, and infinite mastery of the Dao?"

Fu Nan Hua nodded, pleased. "We might count as half comrades, then."

But Song Ji Xin, half-listening and glancing at the neighbor's gate, seemed distracted and out of place.

Fu Nan Hua pressed on, "Let me be blunt: no matter what you have, as long as you name your price, I'll sell everything I own to acquire it!"

Song Ji Xin raised an eyebrow. "It's obvious you're of higher status than that woman, Tai Jin Jian. If she can treat my neighbor that way, why are you so respectful to me?"

Fu Nan Hua answered smoothly, "Treating you as an equal?"

Song Ji Xin nodded, smirking. "You catch on fast. Talking to you is easy."

Fu Nan Hua paid no mind to the boy's haughty tone or condescending attitude.

Unlike Tai Jin Jian, who looked down on the straw-shoed youth as an ant, Fu Nan Hua felt a sense of camaraderie with Song Ji Xin and even an inexplicable respect for this humble alleyway.

Thus, Fu Nan Hua truly viewed the boy before him as someone on the same path.

On the Great Dao, as one advances further, differences in status, gender, or age become irrelevant.

Song Ji Xin hopped off the wall, lowering his voice. "Let's talk inside."

Fu Nan Hua nodded. "Alright."

As they stepped inside, Song Ji Xin asked offhandedly, "Just curious—what's your relationship with that woman who looks so well-kept?"

Fu Nan Hua replied without hesitation, "For now, we're allies, but we're not on the same path."

Song Ji Xin gave a cryptic chuckle. "You people are so convoluted, always overcomplicating things. I heard that outside our little world, celestial beings and demons handle grudges by cutting them off at the root. Isn't that the way?"

The eldest son of the Fu family, raised amidst the grandeur of Lao Long City, merely smiled at the sharp comment.

"Do you hold a grudge against her?" he asked.

The boy widened his eyes, feigning shock. "What are you talking about?"

Realizing Fu Nan Hua wasn't convinced, Song Ji Xin waved him to a seat, dropping the facade and saying sincerely, "Chen Ping An and I grew up without parents, living as neighbors for years. We've never even argued. Believe me or don't—it's up to you."

Fu Nan Hua immediately grasped the underlying message: the boy next door had no one to rely on. He was like a rootless plant, drifting and vulnerable.

If he died, no one would investigate further.

The young master of Lao Long City couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here, in this small alley, a trivial feud had escalated into such an unnecessary storm.

The poor neighbor boy, Chen Ping An, would likely die simply because Song Ji Xin had drawn a target on his back. One knife wasn't enough; there had to be another.

Fu Nan Hua sighed inwardly. No wonder there's an old saying: "A tiger's cub, even if young, still shows the strength to devour cattle."

Inside Gu San's yard, the child had been locked inside a room by his mother. She sat across from an old man who referred to himself as "True Lord."

The old man clasped his hands, smiling. "The matter is settled."

The woman asked hesitantly, "May I ask, Immortal Master, what exactly did you do just now to ensure Chen Ping An..."

Before she could finish, the old man's sharp gaze silenced her.

Turning toward the courtyard gate, the old man waved his sleeve. A gentle breeze stirred through the yard, lingering in the air.

Finally, he spoke. "People like me, mingling in such places, find themselves trapped like a mud Buddha crossing a river. While not yet in mortal danger, the longer I remain, the more entangled I become. It's like young Song Ji Xin said—messy, convoluted, and riddled with karmic ties."

With a hint of pity, he added, "That boy, Chen Ping An, though resentful of the heavens and hated by men, has a stubborn pride. He could have lived a peaceful life spanning generations, but his fate is now sealed in tragedy. His death will sever all connections, shielding my disciple from retribution. With no loose ends, my pupil can ascend, commanding storms and lightning, and ultimately become a dragon."

The woman shivered as she listened, her face drenched in sweat.

The old man chuckled and asked, "Are you curious why those who walk the immortal path seem to cultivate little more than hostility and violence? How can we, with our so-called wisdom, be no better than ignorant village folk like you?"

The woman quickly bowed her head. "I dare not think such things!"

The old man merely smiled, waiting for Tai Jin Jian of Yunhe Mountain to arrive.

In the world of cultivation, the Dao is boundless, and power knows no limits. Tai Jin Jian may view others as ants, but to this True Lord, she and Fu Nan Hua were ants as well.

Why bother reasoning with ants?