Dustless suddenly unsheathed. The plaza fell utterly silent—you could hear a pin drop.
It spun through the air once more. That faint trace of its master’s aura vanished without a trace, as if it had all been an illusion.
The longsword fell blankly back to the black-clothed Sword Venerable’s side.
It let out a buzz, its blade trembling faintly as if conveying some message.
Shadow Full trembled in response, resonating with a series of hums.
Yun Jian lowered his gaze. He pinched two fingers together and gently stroked the quivering sword.
The blade gleamed pure white like jade. As it trembled, light flowed across its surface, revealing faint cracks—extremely fine ones.
Back when he had first found this sword, his senior sister had already met with disaster. All that remained was her damaged lifebound sword, swaying unsteadily and resonating with Shadow Full to lead him to her.
With his metal spirit root talent, Yun Jian excelled at artifact forging. After collecting his senior sister’s body, he had reforged the damaged sword.
But a lifebound sword that had lost its master could not have its cracks repaired, no matter what he tried.
The sword’s trembling stilled instantly under his touch. The youth stared fixedly at the pristine white blade.
In its surface, he saw his own hollow face—and the unhealable fissure.
Yun Jian sheathed the sword. The sharp intensity he’d arrived with was gone. He lowered his eyes in silence for a moment before speaking.
“…Continue practicing your swordsmanship.”
Dustless had unsheathed abruptly, briefly brushing away the dust clinging to him. But Dustless had returned without finding its original master, and the layer of gray ash settled back over him once more.
The disciples around them resumed their movements. The atmosphere grew heavy and subdued.
Until one young disciple made a mistake. His sword slipped from his grip and was sent flying by his sparring senior brother.
The longsword hit the ground with a clang. In a sword cultivation sect, losing hold of one’s weapon was a grave error.
The black-clothed Sword Venerable frowned and looked over. The young disciple stood there flustered and at a loss, having even forgotten to retrieve his sword.
Li Yin was still hiding in the corner. She had used her cheat props to evade the lifebound sword and let out a huge sigh of relief.
Now, seeing the disciple’s mistake, her heart leaped into her throat again.
The Sword Venerable strode over. His sword dao was transcendent and imposing. With a casual raise of his hand, the flying sword responded instantly and flew right into his grasp.
He walked up to the errant young disciple and handed the sword back.
“Focus,” the youth said with a slight frown. “Perform that move of yours again. Let me see it.”
The young disciple took his sword from the Sword Venerable’s hand. He mumbled an acknowledgment, looking quite embarrassed, and clumsily repeated his earlier technique.
The youth watched from the side, his dark eyes calm. He called a halt right at the starting stance.
The young disciple shrank back, ducking his head.
The Player shrank back a little too.
Little Junior Brother’s sharp tongue—who knew what it was like after all these years? It was probably even more cutting now.
But then the Player’s eyes suddenly widened.
It was because the black-clothed Sword Venerable, though frowning slightly, had softened his voice. He carefully corrected the disciple’s form.
A wisp of spiritual energy extended from his fingertip, guiding the young disciple’s starting posture from afar.
“Like this. Understand?”
His words were concise, his method direct.
The young disciple’s face turned red. He probably didn’t quite get it but was too embarrassed to admit it.
Seeing he still wasn’t catching on, the Sword Venerable flicked his fingertip again.
Under his guidance and control, the young disciple slowly repeated the move, gradually feeling out the technique.
After a few tries, the young disciple finally understood. “Thank you, Elder Yun Jian.”
The Sword Venerable gave a slight nod and moved on to guide other disciples who needed instruction.
Whenever a disciple erred, he simply guided their sword forms again and again in silence.
There was no trace of his youthful bravado.
Silent. Profoundly still. Like the embers of a fire, or an unreachable deep pool.
He had once softened his tone to speak with his senior sister too. What had he said back then—
The Player thought her Little Junior Brother had been possessed.
At the time, right after he turned fifteen, he had started getting snarky. But after a while, he suddenly reined it in and began speaking gently to his senior sister.
With such an erratic change in temperament, the Player was naturally baffled.
She had asked him outright: “What’s with you these days? Suddenly turning all soft-spoken. It’s weird—I’m not used to it.”
Little Junior Brother had glanced at her. “I’m talking nicely to you for once. And you’re still not happy?”
The Player hesitated for a moment, then knocked him on the forehead with her sword hilt. Pretending to be on guard, she said, “Who are you? Get out of my Little Junior Brother’s body!”
She had even suspected he was possessed.
Little Junior Brother glared at her, visibly upset. “Y-You… you’re the one who’s possessed!”
He moved his lips, but in the end, he just clutched his reddened forehead. He seemed hurt by his senior sister’s action, his eyes turning red as he grumbled, “You… Senior Sister’s an idiot.”
Thanks to her senior sister’s physical smackdown, the brief possession haunting her junior brother was cured. The youth reverted to his usual self.
The Player was often stood up by her fellow sword cultivators. They would agree to practice together the next day, only for her to wait in vain.
One such time, when the fellow disciple didn’t show, Little Junior Brother poked his head out from the woods instead.
The Player had waited so long that she simply lay down on the test sword stone to rest. When she opened her eyes again, a youthful face suddenly filled her vision—eyes sparkling brightly.
Little Junior Brother stood in front of the test sword stone, hugging his sword to his chest and bending down to peer at her.
“Senior Sister, what are you doing lying here?” By then, he was calling her Senior Sister again.
There was a deliberate softness to the youth’s clear voice.
The Player blinked in confusion. “Waiting for someone.”
She sounded a bit down. “I made plans with someone to practice swordsmanship here today. It’s weird, though…”
Little Junior Brother’s lips curved in a light smirk. “Practice swordsmanship? What kind of results are you going to get out of those guys? You might as well practice with me.”
The Player watched him. The youth’s eyes shone brightly. He nodded slightly, looking perfectly at ease.
“Their swordsmanship isn’t as good as mine. Sooner or later, everyone will hear the hum of my sword. I… You…” Meeting the Player’s gaze, he faltered for a moment before finding his voice again.
“Anyway, it’s better to come to me than waste time with those useless people.”
“Come to you?” The Player wasn’t having it. “I’m your senior sister! I’m not asking you for pointers. And you didn’t even call me Senior Sister just now.”
She rolled over, refusing to look at him. She heard the youth say, “I don’t want to. I’m taller than you now, and my cultivation is higher too. I’m not calling you Senior Sister.”
A moment of quiet followed his words, broken only by faint rustling sounds.
The youth sat down behind the Player.
Another moment of quiet. Then someone tugged at the corner of the Player’s robe.
“Senior Sister…” Little Junior Brother called.
The Player ignored him. Silence fell again.
After a bit, she opened her eyes. Somehow, Little Junior Brother had quietly scooted around to her front.
His eyes were bright and shining, just like when he was little. He gazed at her pleadingly.
The Player asked, “What?”
Little Junior Brother moved his lips and blinked. Reluctantly, he said, “Nothing.”
What had he wanted to say that day?
Later, when they crossed paths on the mountain trail, why had he turned tail and run—deliberately avoiding her…
Lost in thought, Li Yin stared fixedly at the tall figure in the distance.
The black-clothed Sword Venerable’s aura hung heavy. He was turning in this direction. From afar, his dark eyes suddenly shifted.
The instant he raised his gaze, it locked onto a pair of eyes.
Eyes like those of an old friend.
Yun Jian stepped forward without thinking.
Then his expression changed. In the blink of an eye, he unleashed Shrink Earth into Inch.
The distant black-clothed Sword Venerable appeared right in front of her. The girl jumped in genuine shock and retreated another step down the stairs.
“You—” The eyes that had been dead and lifeless reignited, like fire flaring back to life.
Yun Jian stared intently at her eyes, on the verge of speaking. But the two young men beside the girl both stepped forward, blocking his path.
“Sword Venerable Yun Jian.”
“Master.”
The two greetings rang out at once. The man snapped back to his senses.
He took a proper look at the girl’s face. Only her eyes bore an uncanny resemblance.
He pursed his lips.
“…It’s nothing.”
She wasn’t his senior sister.
He placed a hand on his sword hilt. His senior sister’s lifebound sword showed no reaction. Instead, his own lifebound sword seemed to express a sense of friendliness.
He waved his hand to erect a barrier isolating them from the outside world. Then he asked, “Do you have some kind of treasure on you? Why does my sword sense you?”
The girl shook her head in bewilderment. She seemed a little afraid of him and said softly, “Maybe… my constitution is a bit special.”
Her voice was wrong too.
Yun Jian’s fingertip twitched slightly. He kept rubbing the hilt at his side. His dark eyes fixed unmoving on the girl’s uneasy face.
Sword cultivators might lack the myriad spells of the Azure Profound Sect, but they possessed unparalleled intuition and insight.
He could tell she was wearing some kind of disguise artifact.
He was about to press further when his direct disciple stepped forward.
Ying Zhuochen looked at his master. “Master, my sword senses her too.”
He spoke up to back the girl’s claim—and it was indeed as she had said.
That rekindled fire in his eyes snuffed out once more.
Strand by strand, wisp by wisp, it faded from his gaze.
What was he even thinking? A dead person—could she really come back to life?