Luo Jiujiang originally thought that he would see a sword that would suit him well. If he was more considerate, he might be able to choose from three or five swords.
Perhaps the new knife would be inky black, with a slightly wider scabbard and a thinner blade, a resemblance to the old friend. Or perhaps it would be a long knife that went the other way, with a silver-white scabbard made of sharkskin, and a blade so sharp it could cut through even sight when pulled out.
But when Zhen Shuangliu brought him to a hall and pushed open the door, Luo Jiujiang was really stunned.
The hall was lined with sword racks against the walls, neatly stacked with a variety of precious swords. Luo Jiujiang took a quick glance, multiplying the length and width, and realized that there must be no less than a hundred long swords in the hall.
"Knife storage?" Luo Jiujiang thought, but before he could ask, Zhen Shuangliu said calmly, "There are 201 profound weapons in here. They are all knives I gave you. Pick one that suits you best."
Luo Jiujiang: “!!!”
He never dreamed that Zhen Shuangliu would prepare so many swords for him just for the promise of winning the first place in the Seven Islands Competition.
Maybe it's just like a mouse falling into a rice jar.
Looking around the hall, every blade was worthy of the young man's spirit. Luo Jiujiang tested each of these painstakingly crafted swords. Some rang out unsheathed, their notes as clear as a flying phoenix; others had silvery, snowy blades, their edges gleaming like a rainbow in the sunlight; and some, sleek as jade, held upright, could be seen from the tip of the blade to the color of the fingers pressing against the handle...
It would have been fine if Zhen Shuangliu hadn't made a move, but once he did, his writing was truly extraordinary.
Luo Jiujiang tried over seventy blades in quick succession. These blades varied in length, weight, and weight. In the hands of someone like him who loved and understood blades, it was like feeling out the temper of each new friend. By the time he laid his hand on the seventy-ninth blade, even before swinging it, he let out a sigh of relief.
When he unsheathed his sword again, a flash of silver light appeared, like frost reflected on the back, and the blade exhaled a cold dragon. He swung his hand downward, and the long sword trembled lightly as if sensing its master's intention. The moment the blade stopped, the cut surface reflected Luo Jiujiang's pair of radiant eyes.
"Good knife." Luo Jiujiang praised, then he lightly lifted his right wrist, pushed his left thumb downward, and gently touched the blade. In the blink of an eye, he had sharpened the knife with his own blood, "This is it."
Anyway, these knives were all given to Luo Jiujiang. As long as he was comfortable using them, Zhen Shuangliu didn't care how he chose the knives. He simply asked, as a teacher, "There are hundreds more to come. Are you not going to try again?"
"No, this is it." Luo Jiujiang smiled slightly and lifted the hilt to read the inscription on the divine weapon. There was a metaphor that suited his current situation, but it was difficult to use it with Zhen Shuangliu.
——When he met Qianling, grew up with her, shared hardships and life and death with her, he knew she was the one. Then he and Qianling fell in love and pledged their lifelong love, which came naturally and smoothly from the heart.
Could it be that if he was attracted to Qianling, he would have to try out all the suitable men and women in the world before that?
There was no need. When he saw Qianling, he knew that the destined person was him. He picked up this knife and didn't even need to try the remaining hundred or so knives one by one.
Hearing his resolute tone, Zhen Shuangliu lowered his eyes and gave the sword inscribed with "Chengxue" an extra glance.
The inscription on this sword is "Chengxue", and the blade is really as bright as snow and snow, unlike the previous "Old Buddy" whose leather sheath is as black as ink. The sheath of Chengxue is autumn frost white like silver sand, and is decorated with cloud patterns. From a distance, you can see a dark light flowing on the silver-gray cloud patterns.
Compared to the cloud-shaped blade on the left, it was more beautiful, and compared to the ceremonial blade on the right, it had a more powerful aura. At first glance, it wasn't particularly impressive, but if you took a closer look, you'd find it quite appealing.
If this "Chengxue" blade were even thinner, it would be comparable to a willow blade or a seedling blade; if it were even thicker, it would be comparable to a ring blade or a goose wing. However, among the seventy-nine blades that Luo Jiujiang had tried, only this one was neither too thick nor too thin, neither too long nor too short. If it were increased, it would be reduced; if it were reduced, it would be lost. When you examine it closely, you realize that you can't even add any more to the sequence.
...He does look a bit like Jiujiang, no wonder he has the same temper. Zhen Shuangliu thought to himself: Jiujiang is the same. He doesn't need to be smarter or dumber, and his talent doesn't need to be improved or weakened. As long as he maintains his current level, then there will be nothing to criticize, even if it means a beautiful day and a full moon.
The "Chengxue" sword was originally just an ordinary blade among over two hundred. Before this, Zhen Shuangliu hadn't even bothered to glance at its inscription. But Luo Jiujiang, after just one glance, had chosen it with such care and treasure, personally sharpening it with his own blood. Just like Luo Jiujiang himself, a glittering pearl on the beach, Zhen Shuangliu could distinguish him from the crowd of students without even a second glance.
"I'm glad you like it." Zhen Shuangliu nodded, walked to the most secluded corner of the room, and took out a knife from the bottom of the knife rack. He flashed it in front of Luo Jiujiang's eyes as if to express his feelings and then put it away: "This knife is broken, there's no need to keep it."
As he spoke, he clasped his hands together and twisted a hard, straight long sword into a twist of scrap metal as fast as a twist. Luo Jiujiang didn't even have time to say a word before he saw a mysterious weapon destroyed on the spot. His eyes widened a little.
But he quickly realized: "...This one, wasn't it you who chose for me?"
Zhen Shuangliu smiled coldly, his face full of murderous intent, and faintly looked a bit ferocious: "What Qiuniu sent - it's awful, what a thing!"
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