But when Venerable Wanjian pushed open the door, Si Ruoyun saw another vast world.
An indescribable breath hit her face. Si Ruoyun covered her eyes with her hands and it took her a long time to recover.
She couldn't help but look at the swords in the Sword Pavilion with curiosity.
These swords have different shapes and postures.
Some were hung on the wall, some were stuck in stones, and some were thrown on the ground randomly. There were even some that were probably soft swords, which were rolled up into a Chinese knot.
"Isn't it said that a sword cultivator's sword would rather break than bend?"
Si Ruoyun couldn't help but mutter, who knows how much the sword that rolled itself into a Chinese knot has been bent!
"That's a soft sword. It wins by being soft, but when it hardens it can also be devastating."
Venerable Wanjian explained.
He picked up the sword closest to him and swung it twice, causing a series of sounds of swords breaking through the air.
The sword seemed to have not been touched for a long time. It couldn't help but hum a few times, and the sword body was constantly shaking.
"Can I touch him?"
Si Ruoyun looked curious.
"sure!"
Venerable Wanjian smiled heartily and raised the sword above his head so that Si Ruoyun could touch the sword.
The sword was snow-white all over, even the hilt was white, except for a hint of red in the middle, as if blood had fallen on it.
Si Ruoyun reached out her hand curiously and touched it, and felt the coldness.
"This sword was originally forged by a senior with pure water spiritual roots, who spent most of his life's hard work. It is the coldest sword in the world."
"A sword is meant to face the sun, but this sword faces the opposite direction."
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