The Sword and Blade Sacred Emperor

The Strong-Willed Ding Sheng



Due to the fusion of memories, he accepted everything about this body without the slightest awkwardness.

“Don’t worry, I will definitely help you… no, I will help us, bring my sister back.”

Ding Sheng clenched his fist, vowing in his heart.

As the vow was made, the sorrow and longing within him slowly dissipated.

The last trace of the former owner’s subconscious vanished into thin air.

From then on, there would only be one Ding Sheng who had traveled here.

After hastily preparing a meal to fill his stomach, Ding Sheng began to formulate his next plan.

To find his sister, Ding Ke’er, he needed to enhance his strength.

In this world, loose cultivators had no future; only by joining the Wanjian Sect could he utilize the sect’s resources and experience to systematically practice martial arts. However, the main issue in officially joining the Wanjian Sect was addressing the physical weakness of this body.

Thus, he needed to go to a very dangerous place.

To collect a rare medicinal herb.

He searched the room for some sturdy ropes, then rolled up a few bed sheets, twisting them together to form a long rope. After determining it was of adequate length, Ding Sheng nodded, coiling the rope over his left shoulder. He strapped the rusty iron sword on his back, pushed open the door, and strode out.

At this moment, the night was deep.

The crescent moon and stars dotted the sky, casting a silvery veil over the ground, revealing a beauty that was both desolate and cold.

Ding Sheng set his sights on the direction of the garbage cliff, sprinting forward at full speed.

In an instant, beneath the hazy moonlight, the abrupt stone forest and the miasma-filled cliffs came into view.

Today, there were less than fifteen days until the Wanjian Sect's entrance examination.

For Ding Sheng, every minute was incredibly precious.

He had to seize the time to strengthen his power.

However, at this moment, someone dared to interrupt him—

“Yo, isn’t this Ding Sheng, the one known as the ‘Pig of Wanjian’? What’s the rush? Going to dig through the garbage again?”

A sharp, mocking voice rang out.

Under the bright moonlight, four or five boys, aged around thirteen or fourteen, approached menacingly from the stone forest, blocking Ding Sheng's path.

In the past, Ding Sheng, being overly foolish and stubborn, often did stupid things and earned the derisive nickname of "Pig of Wanjian," which meant the biggest fool on Wanjian Mountain.

These boys, who idled their days away in the slums, enjoyed bullying Ding Sheng.

Especially the leader among them, a sturdy boy named Zhao Ming, who was also thirteen years old and part of this slum community.

Unlike Ding Sheng, Zhao Ming had both parents and did not need to struggle for daily sustenance. He also had some martial talent and nearly passed the Wanjian Sect's entrance exam last year. After a year of hard training, he was expected to join the sect this year.

Moreover, it was said that he recently befriended a disciple of the Wanjian Sect, gaining a set of martial arts techniques, and had become even more arrogant. Young as he was, he was ruthless, dominating the slums behind the mountain and provoking trouble, with no one daring to challenge him.

In the past, Ding Sheng would have avoided these boys at all costs. If he couldn’t escape, he would have resigned himself to his fate, obediently taking the insults without daring to fight back.

But now, within the same body, the soul had changed.

Ding Sheng treated the group as if they were invisible, not even glancing their way.

In the cold moonlight, Ding Sheng slightly paused, surveying the boys blocking his path. Their faces, shadowed by the moonlight, appeared sinister and cunning, like a pack of wolves hunting their prey. At this moment, Ding Sheng felt no fear or helplessness but an unprecedented sense of determination and calm.

“Are you here to tell jokes?” he said softly, his voice calm with a hint of sarcasm. He knew these boys enjoyed mocking him, taking pleasure in bullying the weak in the slums. But he was no longer the easily manipulated fool.

Zhao Ming stepped forward, disdain written across his face, resembling a proud rooster: “Oh, look! The ‘Pig of Wanjian’ has learned to fight back. How rare.” His eyes gleamed with provocation, as if Ding Sheng's resistance was futile.

Ding Sheng's heart stirred, recalling his past experiences. He had longed for strength, craving to no longer be someone else's plaything. Now, he understood that strength was not just about physical power but also about inner resilience. He smiled slightly, his gaze growing firm and sharp: “Do you really think I will always be your joke? I will become strong and will never be the one you bully again.”

He stepped forward, locking eyes with Zhao Ming. In that moment, Ding Sheng’s aura seemed to shift, making the surrounding air feel tense. Zhao Ming and his companions were taken aback, surprised by Ding Sheng’s defiance, the newfound aura creating a flicker of unease within them.

“So, you’d best stay away from me today.” Ding Sheng’s voice was low and resolute, as if an invisible barrier had formed, preventing their further provocation.


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