Chapter 52: Catching Cats
The disciple saw that Sword Master frowned slightly and his expression seemed even colder, and thought that Sword Master was dissatisfied with Bai Qingchen.
Thinking about how Junior Brother Bai was usually kind to others and never caused trouble on Hanyuan Peak, he didn't know where he got the courage from, but he dared to stammer and defend Bai Qingchen.
"Sword Master, calm down! Bai... Junior Brother Bai is a very good person! He... he is different from those people before."
"If Junior Brother Bai has accidentally offended Your Majesty, please... please forgive him this time, considering that he is young and ignorant..."
He spoke haltingly, cold sweat dripping down his forehead, and felt like he was going to faint in the next second.
Mo Zhiyuan retracted his gaze and looked at Youyou, who was still looking out the gate. His voice was still calm: "Where is he?"
These three short words made the disciple feel as if he had been pardoned, and he quickly answered.
"Junior Brother Bai returned to the peak covered in blood after the sect competition ended that day. He didn't stay long before applying to the Stewards' Hall for permission to go down the mountain for training. Counting the days, he's been gone for seven or eight days."
Yoyo, who had been listening attentively to the conversation with her ears perked up, suddenly opened her emerald cat eyes wide when she heard the words "covered in blood, and had been gone for seven or eight days"!
Ah Qing came back, injured! And then... then he left again, without even looking at it, or even taking it with him!
The huge grievance and loss were like a flood that broke through the dam, instantly breaking down the little guy's defenses.
It couldn't bear it any longer and raised its little head and cried loudly.
At the same time, Mo Zhiyuan's mind felt like it was struck hard by a heavy hammer.
Could the blood-soaked figure on the martial arts field that day be Bai Qingchen?
The disciple only felt a flash before his eyes, and the suffocating pressure suddenly disappeared.
Looking up, the Sword Master was no longer there. Only the snow-white leopard cat was left, howling sadly at the sky.
He breathed a sigh of relief as if he had survived a disaster. His clothes on the back were soaked with cold sweat and his legs were still slightly weak.
The Sword Master's pressure was so terrifying that even after it subsided, it was still frightening.
Mo Zhiyuan's figure appeared at the registration office of the sect's treasure pavilion almost instantly.
Ever since he sensed the sword intent on Frost and Snow dissipated a few months ago and came here to investigate without success, the disciples in charge of registration felt as if a sword was hanging over their heads, and they were anxious day and night.
They searched through artifact registers dating back nearly a hundred years, or even longer, and their eyes were almost dazzled, but they couldn't find any records of the Frost Sword, not even one with a similar name.
Just as several people were frowning and sighing over the piles of books, a familiar soul-freezing chill descended without warning.
The mysterious senior in black robe appeared before them again silently!
Several disciples were terrified, and the one in charge of registration was even colder. He trotted over tremblingly, his voice trembling, "Senior...Senior, what are your instructions?"
Mo Zhiyuan's voice, piercing through his black robe, was still as cold as ever, yet seemed to carry a subtle urgency. "Check, Bai Qingchen."
"Bai...Bai Qingchen?" The registered disciple's mind went blank and he didn't react for a moment to who this was.
A slightly more alert fellow disciple beside him suddenly nudged him with his elbow and quickly reminded him in a low voice, "That's the one! The one who got lucky and took first place in the recruitment trial with five spiritual roots, Bai Qingchen!"
The registered disciple suddenly woke up and frantically searched for the disciple roster and the corresponding artifact collection record.
Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, fearing that if he moved too slowly he would anger this mysterious senior.
Mo Zhiyuan stood quietly, his gaze beneath the black robe as if it were real. He could clearly hear the low-voice conversation between the two disciples.
"First place in the trial...Five Spiritual Roots..."
The combination of these two words brings a sense of incongruity. It is unusual in itself that a person with five spiritual roots, whose qualifications can be described as useless, can win first place in the sect trial where geniuses gather.
Soon, the registered disciple found the record in a thick booklet. He handed the booklet to Mo Zhiyuan with trembling hands and pointed to one of the lines.
"Senior...Senior, we have found...Bai Qingchen...receive the artifact registration, and break...break the sword."
The moment the four words "Broken Sword" came into Mo Zhiyuan's eyes, the faces of the registered disciple and his fellow disciples turned pale.
It's over. They wanted to save trouble, and since the sword looked really worn out, they just registered a random name, but they didn't expect it to cause such a disaster.
The minds of several disciples were racing at an unprecedented speed, trying hard to recall what happened at that time.
That sword... what was the name of that sword?
"Frost... That's right, Frost Snow! It's called Frost Snow!" said a disciple, slapping his head suddenly.
Although he had guessed it long ago, when the words frost and snow really reached his ears, Mo Zhiyuan's heart, which had been silent for four hundred years, was like a huge rock thrown into it, causing huge waves.
The emotions that he had been suppressing under his cold appearance suddenly burst out as if they had found an outlet.
Buzz——!
A trace of terrifying pressure leaked out uncontrollably from under his black robe, just a trace.
Plop! Plop!
In the registration office of the Treasure Pavilion, all the disciples on duty felt as if they were being pressed down by an invisible mountain. Their faces instantly turned as pale as paper, their legs went limp, and they all collapsed to the ground.
Mo Zhiyuan seemed unaware.
Frost and Snow was the sword he forged for Aqing himself. He poured his heart and soul into it and engraved it with his unique sword intent. It would only recognize Aqing as its master.
When he learned that Frost and Snow were missing, the first thing that surged in his heart was overwhelming anger. Someone dared to steal his Taoist companion's relics!
He didn't dare to think about it, and even instinctively avoided the faint and almost impossible hope that Aqing was back.
For four hundred years, countless dreams in the middle of the night, countless moments of excitement when sensing a familiar aura, ultimately turned into deeper disappointment and cold silence.
He no longer dared to have any hope, as it would only bring deeper despair.
But this time it’s different!
Frost and Snow recognized its master. It chose a disciple with five spiritual roots named Bai Qingchen. The bloody figure of that disciple became extremely clear in his mind at this moment.
The only one who can make Shuangxue recognize him as his master is Aqing, only his Aqing!
He is back, he is really back!
He didn't even recognize him at the martial arts training ground that day!
The huge ecstasy was like a blazing torrent, instantly breaking through the cold shell that Mo Zhiyuan had maintained for four hundred years, followed by endless regret and a paranoia that was almost like losing and regaining!
How could he not recognize A Qing? How could he let A Qing appear in front of him again, covered in blood? How could he let him run away again and slip away from his sight again?
But it doesn't matter.
Mo Zhiyuan took a deep breath, and the leaked pressure disappeared in an instant.
The disciples who collapsed on the ground felt their bodies lighten, like drowning people finally floating to the surface. They gasped for breath and looked at the place where the mysterious black-robed man disappeared in shock.
Under the black robe, the corners of Mo Zhiyuan's mouth slowly curled up into a cold and determined arc.
Run? Ah Qing, where can you run to this time?
Find you, and then never, ever leave my palm again.
The black ice on the top of Hanyuan Peak seemed to make a subtle, almost inaudible cracking sound due to the violent fluctuations in its owner's mood.
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