Chapter 92: A Millennium of Accumulated Power, the Sword God
“Senior Brother, what’s wrong?”
Zhang Yuchun cautiously asked Li Qingqiu, his tone tense.
Li Dongyue walked over as well, looking equally puzzled at Li Qingqiu.
Li Qingqiu withdrew his gaze and said, “This sword should be the Emperor Mystic Sword. That boy really has great fortune. Send him inside first.”
Seeing that Li Qingqiu didn’t appear to be possessed, Zhang Yuchun finally let out a sigh of relief.
He carried Li Sifeng into the house, with Li Dongyue following closely behind.
Li Qingqiu came to the long table and placed the Emperor Mystic Sword upon it.
He finally understood why the Emperor Mystic Sword had such renown.
This sword was, in fact, a magic implement—and one far superior to the Flying Fish Knife.
Within the Emperor Mystic Sword resided a Sword Soul, and that soul had already formed a certain link with Li Sifeng’s own soul.
On that Sword Soul, Li Qingqiu could see Li Sifeng’s soul imprint.
Even without infusing it with vital energy, Li Sifeng could draw upon the Sword Soul’s power.
However, the Sword Soul carried an evil nature—if one’s body was not strong enough, using it repeatedly would harm both body and spirit.
Yet since cultivation strengthened both, Li Qingqiu could rest assured that Li Sifeng would be able to handle it.
Although the Emperor Mystic Sword was stronger than both the Flying Fish Knife and the Lightning Summoning Flag, Li Qingqiu had no intention of keeping it—it had been his Sixth Junior Brother’s hard-earned prize.
He was merely intrigued by the Sword Soul itself, attempting to comprehend its method of recognizing its master.
Once the Emperor Mystic Sword recognized an owner, no other could wield it—unless the recognition bond was somehow broken.
With his Human Ghost-God Fate Trait, Li Qingqiu could perceive the Sword Soul’s structure with uncanny clarity, unraveling its secrets thread by thread.
After a while, Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue came out and stood before Li Qingqiu once more.
“Someone was pursuing Sixth Junior Brother. When we descended the mountain, they hesitated from afar for a while before retreating. This matter won’t end easily,” Zhang Yuchun said, frowning.
Li Qingqiu looked up at them and gave a cold snort.
“Good. Saves us the trouble of seeking them out.”
“According to previous reports, it’s likely we’ll provoke the Pei Clan.”
“What? Do those of the Pei Clan not have heads upon their shoulders?”
At that, Zhang Yuchun knew their Senior Brother was truly angry, and he couldn’t help but silently mourn for the Pei Clan.
The Pei Clan might hold great influence, but if they pushed their Senior Brother too far, Zhang Yuchun felt any leader—no matter their power—could be slain by him.
In terms of personal strength, his Senior Brother’s might was beyond imagination.
Even assassinating the Emperor in the Imperial City didn’t seem impossible.
“Senior Brother, let’s not allow Sifeng to go down the mountain again. He’s too impulsive and prone to trouble,” Li Dongyue said, frowning.
Li Qingqiu nodded.
This time, he was truly frightened—he dared not imagine what he would do if Li Sifeng were to die outside.
Zhang Yuchun chuckled.
“Exactly. The Hall Master of the Training Hall is always out training himself, never to be found by his disciples. It’s disgraceful.”
He couldn’t control Li Sifeng; only Li Qingqiu could.
Even when Li Sifeng accompanied Jiang Zhaoxia down the mountain, he would still act recklessly.
Jiang Zhaoxia had once said he often wanted to beat him, yet feared wounding his pride now that he was grown.
Li Qingqiu motioned for them to sit, then said, “Since we must guard against the Pei Clan and the Di Clan’s attack, we must plan ahead instead of waiting passively.”
Both Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue agreed, and the three began to discuss countermeasures.
……
Spring passed, summer arrived, and the world’s temperature began to rise.
In a town, Xue Jin, dressed in black, stepped into an inn, followed closely by his twelve junior brothers and sisters.
As Xue Jin crossed the threshold, the waiter hurried forward to greet them warmly.
After taking their seats, Xue Jin casually ordered a few dishes.
Zheng Yunqiao, ranked second among the Thirteen Sword Fiends, sat to Xue Jin’s left and asked, “Senior Brother, we’ve been out for so long—must we keep searching?”
The others also looked toward Xue Jin.
Xue Jin drank a bowl of tea and said, “Even if we can’t find him, we must bring back some information. This is not a matter we can take lightly.”
A female disciple said resentfully, “That Hall Master Li really is something. High in position, blessed with authority, yet he can’t sit still and enjoy life—always running around outside. Is that Emperor Mystic Sword really so incredible? I’d rather just cultivate on the mountain. I truly miss those days.”
Her words drew both agreement and dissent—more than half preferred the wandering life of the martial world, which was far more exciting.
Xue Jin did not join their discussion.
No matter what others thought, he had to find Li Sifeng.
Jiang Zhaoxia was his Master, and the Sect Master was the one who had changed his fate.
It was his duty to locate their Junior Brother and ease their worries.
“Emperor Mystic Sword? Oh, are you esteemed guests interested in that legendary demon sword?”
The waiter approached with their dishes, standing beside Xue Jin, curiosity written on his face.
Zheng Yunqiao glanced at him.
“You know something about it?”
The waiter looked around, then bent closer and whispered, “Take my advice—don’t go coveting that Emperor Mystic Sword. The Pei Clan is searching the entire city for it. They say it was stolen right under their noses. The Pei Clan is no simple lot—the current Imperial Censor bears that surname, and there’s even a general among them. You can’t afford to offend such people. When they want something, which sect in the martial world would dare snatch it?”
Xue Jin and his companions already knew the Pei Clan was involved in the fight over the Emperor Mystic Sword.
One male disciple asked, “Waiter, do you know who stole it?”
“That I don’t. They say it was a very young hero.”
After saying so, the waiter took the tray and left.
Zheng Yunqiao looked at Xue Jin and whispered, “Could it be Hall Master Li?”
Xue Jin’s eyes flickered.
“We can’t keep wandering blindly. Let’s go to the Pei Clan and ask directly.”
His disciples were long used to his daring nature—but storming the Pei Clan was no simple feat.
“Senior Brother, this isn’t child’s play,” Zheng Yunqiao reminded him with a frown.
Xue Jin swept his gaze across them.
“Even if blood must be shed, we’ll find out Hall Master Li’s whereabouts. Since they’re in this city, we’ll move after this meal. Don’t eat too much—you don’t want to be bloated when the killing starts.”
With that, he picked up his chopsticks and began eating.
The others exchanged glances, faces pale, but none tried to dissuade him.
They too picked up their chopsticks and began to eat.
……
One morning after summer had arrived, Jiang Zhaoxia returned.
“Surprisingly smooth. That Inspector-General truly held a banquet to take a concubine,” Jiang Zhaoxia said as he sat at the table.
Zhang Yuchun frowned.
“No, something’s off. They must have recognized you weren’t the Sect Master of Clear Sky Sect—that’s why they didn’t act.”
Jiang Zhaoxia looked at him.
“They treated me courteously. I couldn’t just cause trouble, could I?”
Zhang Yuchun nodded, then turned to Li Qingqiu.
“Senior Brother, I fear there’s a spy in the sect.”
“Not necessarily. Many pilgrims have seen me before. Since the Inspector-General didn’t dare act rashly, let’s leave it be. He’ll likely behave himself for a while.”
After speaking, Li Qingqiu told Li Dongyue to fetch pen and paper.
Zhang Yuchun sat down and grinned at Jiang Zhaoxia.
“Third Junior Brother, Sixth Junior Brother returned before you—and brought back the Emperor Mystic Sword. He’s bragging that once he’s healed, he’ll challenge you. You’d best prepare—Senior Brother said that if you’re careless, you might actually lose.”
At that, Jiang Zhaoxia raised a brow and looked toward Li Qingqiu.
“Senior Brother, are you looking down on me?”
Li Qingqiu shot Zhang Yuchun a glare, then said, “Third Junior Brother, I wasn’t exaggerating. Though that boy’s strength is far below yours, that sword carries a thousand years of accumulated power.”
Jiang Zhaoxia fell silent, deep in thought.
Li Dongyue returned with the pen and paper.
Li Qingqiu took them and began writing.
Jiang Zhaoxia asked, “Second Junior Brother, you said earlier he was injured. What happened?”
Zhang Yuchun recounted Li Sifeng’s own story—he had indeed been hunted by the Pei Clan, and the siblings who had rescued him were now settled on the mountain.
“The Pei Clan.”
Jiang Zhaoxia’s eyes turned cold, though he said no more.
Standing beside Li Qingqiu, Li Dongyue said, “Senior Brothers, I advise caution. Our enemies are growing in number. The Cui Clan of Linchuan will certainly continue investigating Chen Huilan’s whereabouts—that’s one hidden danger. The Pei Clan and the Inspector-General are also our major foes.”
Zhang Yuchun sighed helplessly.
“As our sect grows, all sorts of troubles will follow. We’ll handle them one by one. I’ve already asked Hall Master Yang to befriend the families and sects showing goodwill. Once we see who bears grudges against those three factions, we’ll plan accordingly.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Li Dongyue smiled.
She felt no pressure at all—in fact, she found joy in knowing the seven of them could each shoulder different burdens and advance together.
Then Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue began asking Jiang Zhaoxia about any other experiences he’d had while away.
Li Qingqiu paused his writing and handed the sheet to Zhang Yuchun.
“These disciples should be watched closely—there are spies among them.”
Zhang Yuchun took the paper and saw seventeen names listed.
Surprised, he asked, “Senior Brother, how do you know?”
“I may not have much to do, but when I go down the mountain, I don’t idle away my time.”
Li Qingqiu said with deliberate mystery.
The loyalty scores of these disciples were all extremely low—some even at zero, clear traitors.
Zhang Yuchun half-believed him, while Li Qingqiu stood up.
He still had to tend to the Prison Qilin’s wounds.
Li Sifeng’s safe return owed much to that creature.
The auspicious beast could sense its master’s danger from a thousand miles away—an incredible thing that made even Li Qingqiu want to raise one himself.
……
Seven days passed in a flash.
After noon, Li Qingqiu had just finished lunch.
He’d spent the previous night in the Spirit Mine, returning only that morning.
Yuan Qi suddenly rushed into the courtyard, his demeanor so frantic that Li Qingqiu didn’t even need to guess—something had happened again.
“Sect Master, terrible news! A man came up the mountain, claiming to be Shen Yue. He wants to challenge every expert in our sect! He says if he wins, we must hand over the Emperor Mystic Sword!”
Yuan Qi stood before Li Qingqiu, speaking rapidly.
Li Qingqiu raised a brow.
“Who is Shen Yue, to be so overbearing?”
For someone to directly name the Emperor Mystic Sword—it likely had nothing to do with the Pei Clan.
Could it be that the sword’s whereabouts had already spread across the martial world?
Yuan Qi replied, “On his way up, I heard people say he’s called the Sword God by the martial world. Even the Imperial Ancestor once offered him vast wealth to serve in the palace, but he refused. He’s a true peerless expert, famed across the land—far beyond any so-called provincial champion.”