Sheng Xi was taken aback by Ji Mofan's words and turned to look at him blankly, "How did you know?"
"Just guessing." Ji Mofan shrugged. "Don't higher-level spatial artifacts require a blood oath to open and take the contents?"
Sheng Xi had a moment of doubt, but then felt it didn't make sense. Ji Mo Fan and Chao Ming Dian hadn't crossed paths in the past ten years, so how could he have any way of knowing things that even he didn't know?
"Then why don't you perform a blood oath?" he asked Ji Mofan.
All he received in return was a genuinely puzzled look from Ji Mofan: "Your memorial tablet, you want me to acknowledge it as my master?"
What exactly is it that they recognize?
Moreover, although it was just a sixth sense for which he couldn't explain the specific reason, he seemed to be able to sense from these memorial tablets that only the owner whose name was written on them had the ability to open the space inside the memorial tablet.
Although I don't understand why the weapon refiner would leave such a loophole when making it, could it be because they are afraid that the person inside might not be completely dead and could come back to life, so that they could use this method to get out?
Judging from Sheng Xi's reaction, it's clear that he probably didn't know that this method could be used to break through the defenses of a crafted artifact.
In short, Sheng Xi gave it a try, thinking that she had nothing to lose.
After all, no one had ever thought of opening the coffin after it had been sealed to see how decomposed the dead body was.
That would be too much of a disturbance to their rest.
The dagger pierced the fingertip, and a bead of scarlet blood rolled onto the memorial tablet. The blood flowed and spread rapidly along the grooves engraved on it, covering every stroke of the two characters "Sheng Xi".
The entire ancestral hall was suddenly filled with brilliant light.
The light and shadow before my eyes twisted and spun, as if breaking through the spatial barrier and tearing a door out of nothingness.
Looking inside, there was a small, square stone chamber.
There were no superfluous decorations, only a coffin placed in the center.
Ji Mofan had seen this coffin before, more than a year ago, at the grand funeral held by Chaoming Palace for the death of their chief disciple.
He personally witnessed Xie Qingya, Sheng Xi's master, placing the Black God Sword into the coffin and creating this cenotaph for Sheng Xi.
It seems they didn't put much effort into Sheng Xi's fake death, which was just a complete fabrication to cover up their true intentions. This is quite consistent with Ji Mo Fan's impression of them over this period of time.
The scabbard of the Black God Sword hummed even louder, and even trembled visibly, clearly showing its excitement.
The same sound echoed from the coffin inside the space, the wood creaking as it was struck.
"Should we go in and get it now?" Ji Mofan asked, tilting his head.
Sheng Xi remained silent for a moment, then stuffed the scabbard back into his Qiankun bag, and the connection between the two immediately ceased.
Without exaggeration, Ji Mofan immediately heard the Black God Sword emit an extremely mournful and lost sound, like a wronged little woman who had been abandoned.
“Your Black God Sword misses you too,” he said.
“No, even if I want to take it back, I have to have a reasonable reason.” Sheng Xi shook her head. “Otherwise, even if I take it away, I won’t be able to use it in front of others in the future.”
Ji Mofan did not object to what he said.
Just as I was about to say something, I suddenly sensed someone approaching.
Just as he turned his head to look at the doorway to confirm, Sheng Xi immediately waved his hand and patted the doorway created by the memorial tablets. The light and shadow distorted again, and the ancestral hall immediately returned to its calm state.
Xie Qingya walked in from the doorway.
"Why did you come to a place like this all by yourself?" His voice was as gentle as water and as soft as the wind, like the finest silk brushing against your heart, so beautiful it was intoxicating.
Ji Mofan found it no wonder that Zheng Xianchan, who was still a child, immediately became attached to Xie Qingya.
No one will dislike him.
The tension from what seemed like doing something wrong dissipated in an instant. Ji Mo Fan bowed and cupped his hands, saying, "This disciple is new here and would like to pay my respects to the seniors of Chaoming Palace."
“It’s good that you have this intention.” Xie Qingya seemed to nod, “but these people are all gone after all.”
"The reason why Chaoming Temple built its ancestral hall in such an inconspicuous place is so that future generations will not be overshadowed by the figures of their predecessors." As he spoke, his gaze swept around, lingering slightly on one name for a moment before returning to Ji Mofan.
"Whether they remember or not, it doesn't matter whether it brings glory to their family or makes them lament their misfortune."
"Because they are already oblivious to it."
Ji Mofan always felt that he wasn't entirely talking to himself.
But to say that it didn't touch me would be a lie.
It's not that he always wants to compare his old employer with his new employer, it's just that...
The difference is enormous.
The ancestral hall and Peach and Plum Hall of the Yuncang Sword Sect are located in one place, and the first thing new disciples do every year is to pay respects to their predecessors.
The souls left behind by those deceased fellow disciples were also placed on the Zhuxiantai, the highest point of Yuncang Mountain, closest to the sky.
Because they had accomplished countless feats during their lives, they deserved to be respected after their deaths. Ji Mofan originally thought this was a matter of course.
However, after seeing the ancestral hall of Chaoming Temple today, the neatly arranged memorial tablets, which conceal all merits and demerits except for a name, seem to be saying—
If you remember us, then remember us; if you forget us, then there's no need to feel guilty.
Because we are insignificant people anyway.
*
Xie Qingya left, clutching his wine gourd, humming a little tune as he walked leisurely.
After his figure completely disappeared around the corner of the corridor, Sheng Xi finally slowly walked out from behind the curtain hanging in the corner of the ancestral hall.
"The elder you mentioned before, the one who always carries a gourd of wine..." Ji Mo Fan finally remembered this, squinted at him, and turned to look at him, "Is that your own master?"
"Am I wrong? Did he force you to drink too?" Sheng Xi glared back directly. "This troublesome person will also be your master in the future. You can cry in secret. I won't pity you."
Upon hearing this, Ji Mofan suddenly realized something belatedly, "Now that you mention it, shouldn't I call you Senior Brother?"
Sheng Xi was taken aback by his words, her mind blankly racing as she tried to process what he meant. "...Are you deliberately trying to disgust me?"
"You're overthinking it." Ji Mofan lowered his head and shook it. "Don't always have a persecution complex. You've been targeting me from the very beginning."
This time, it was Sheng Xi's turn to be confused. "Me? Targeting you?"
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