Chapter 117 The Cold-Blooded Swordsman Wants to Give Himself to You
The trade route from Mengzhou City to the northern desert was shrouded in yellow sand.
The midday sun was scorching and intense, raining down on people without any shade, as if trying to peel off a layer of skin. Everyone traveling on the trade route knew how fierce the sun was, and they all wrapped their heads in headscarves and cloaks, but he did not.
His face was completely exposed, and his cheeks were flushed red from the sun, as if they had been licked by fire.
A thin, sheathless sword was tucked at his waist. His black outfit was soaked with sweat and clung to his body. Sweat mixed with sand and dust left streaks of mud on his face. It was hot and painful, but he didn't frown. Only a pair of cold, resolute blue eyes were visible.
He was not afraid of the sun or pain. When he strode forward, every muscle and bone in his body exerted its strength. Compared to a human, he was more like a wolf with amazing strength and endurance.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, the sunlight grew increasingly intense, and a small patch of poplar forest quietly emerged from the sheltered sand dunes. If it were an ordinary person, they would probably sit down to rest and escape the scorching sun that devours people.
But he didn't either.
He was the kind of person who would rather stand than sit, and walk than stand. He simply took off his water pouch, sipped some water to moisten his chapped lips, and then, without showing any signs of fatigue, continued on his way.
He was completely unaware that someone had already set their sights on him.
From the dense foliage of the poplar trees, a sword suddenly slid down a few inches, peering curiously in the direction of the newcomer, and muttered joyfully to itself, "This person, though he has never ascended the path to immortality, possesses the spirit of a swordsman. This is him!"
The speaker was none other than the spirit within the sword. Qi Tang's original owner was not only a prodigy and a saintly cultivator, but also the sect's chief disciple, with limitless potential.
When one attains enlightenment, even his chickens and dogs can ascend to heaven, let alone his sword. In order to become the rightful number one swordsman in the world, she endured Song Ju's cold-bloodedness, ruthlessness, enslavement, and trampling on her no matter how much he did.
But to her utter surprise, all her years of enduring humiliation and hardship ultimately came to nothing. Once she broke through the void, she found the spiritual energy here scarce, and she had no chance to ascend to immortality.
The good news is that she naturally became the number one swordsman in the 'world'.
The bad news is that Song Ju was not only cold-blooded and ruthless, but he also humiliated her, making her lose face in front of the beautiful older sister. She is the number one swordsman in the world; is this acceptable?
All the suffering she had endured over the years flashed through her mind. She could not let it go. Not only did she want to run away from home, but she also wanted to find a better master to avenge her.
There is no one in the world more cold-blooded and ruthless than Song Ju!
She was determined to make Song Ju regret it and beg her to go back, crying.
A sword spirit needs to attach itself to a sword master to take on a human form; otherwise, it can only live parasitically within the sword. Her remaining spiritual energy is dwindling, and she must find a new master as soon as possible.
Without the nourishment of a new master's essence and blood, once the spiritual energy is exhausted and the sword is trapped inside, it can only slink back to Song Ju for help.
She absolutely cannot let such a terrible thing happen.
Even if we take a step back and assume the worst, who wouldn't want a peerless divine weapon? Besides, this person's sword is not only unsheathed, but also full of bite marks and nicks, making it really rather inferior.
If I were to present him with a precious sword, the new master would be overjoyed. By then, it would be too late to reveal its true form and frighten him.
With a flash of purple light, Qi Tang, sword in hand, gave chase.
Recently, a series of murders have occurred in the northern part of Mengzhou City, and even the silver-clad constables of the Six Doors have mysteriously disappeared on the trade route. Leng Xue has come to investigate the case. Everyone in the city says that a wolf demon is causing trouble, but he doesn't believe in ghosts or gods, only in the sword in his hand.
He traveled all the way from the north of Mengzhou City to the trade route, hoping to find clues and find out the suspicious person.
Just when everyone was on edge, they suddenly heard very close footsteps behind them.
His cold-blooded gaze sharpened; in the blink of an eye, this person was within ten inches of him.
A slight gust of wind rustled at his shoulder blade. He suddenly turned around, and with a flash of lightning, his sword was already aimed at the man's brow.
This sword strike was too sharp and too fast, carrying an overwhelming killing intent. At such close range, probably no one could withstand it.
Before he could get a good look, those beast-like blue eyes suddenly narrowed—for the newcomer was not an assassin, but a delicate woman. And what was about to strike his shoulder was not a hidden weapon or dagger, but a pair of slender, pale hands.
But his sword, like him, only advanced and never retreated. The distance was simply too close; even if he were injured, it would be difficult to turn the sword around.
The cold glint of the sword tip suddenly approached, and even before the chilling sword aura arrived, the smell of blood was overwhelming.
Qi Tang's pupils dilated rapidly, and he suddenly raised his hand to grasp the tip of the sword that was thrusting at him.
She caught that swift, precise, and ruthless sword strike with her bare hands!
The sword is trembling? ...Why?
The sword hilt suddenly became hot. Leng Xue's gaze shifted downwards, and he gripped the sword tightly until his knuckles turned white.
The new owner... is so fierce.
Qi Tang blinked, released her grip, stepped forward, and smiled sweetly at him: "Young hero, what excellent swordsmanship!"
He pursed his lips, twisted his wrist, and sliced off a piece of skin and flesh from the base of his thumb.
"Why...why did you cut your own flesh?" Qi Tang's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively reached out to take his hand.
Before her hand even touched Leng Xue, he quickly took two steps back, his slender fingers clenched into fists, his skin and flesh torn open, and blood gushed out.
When he looked up and stared at the woman who had mocked him, the words that had been escaping his throat suddenly died in his throat, and only then did he belatedly realize how hot it was.
His face flushed even more deeply, and though the ground was scorching hot enough to burn through the soles of his feet, he felt his blood burning even hotter.
The woman's face was as smooth as jade, her eyebrows and eyes stunningly beautiful, like a piece of translucent and lustrous snow silk. On the trade route, yellow sand filled the sky, yet she wore a light blue gauze dress embroidered with crabapple branches, her thin, pink shoulders half-revealed, every inch of which seemed to be bathed in light, untouched by a speck of dust.
He had always been afraid of girls, but this time, he was so afraid that he couldn't breathe and his hand holding the sword trembled.
She was even more powerful than he had imagined; she could make not only his sword tremble, but also his hands.
He turned around, unable to even apologize, and walked back with his head down.
Cold-blooded Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his steps were quick and hurried, and his heart pounded so hard that the old wound on his chest felt faintly hot.
He even wondered if his blood had dried up, otherwise why would he be so thirsty?
"Young hero!" Qi Tang exclaimed, her eyes wide. She grabbed her sword and chased after him. How could he just leave like that?
He strode forward without saying a word, his pace quickening.
Of course, Qi Tang couldn't let him escape, otherwise where would she find another swordsman with innate sword talent?
She strode forward and grabbed the hem of his sweat-soaked robe. "Young hero, please wait."
This time he stopped, turned around, and with a flash of his sword, he sliced off the hem of his clothes that was soaked with sweat and sand.
He lowered his head, pursed his lips and remained silent, feeling a numbness and pain on his face, which was extremely tense.
Qi Tang held the half-piece of clothing, unsure whether to throw it away or keep it. He could only present the sword in his arms forward, his eyes gleaming, and said, "Young hero, I see that you have a natural talent for swordsmanship and superb swordsmanship, so I will give you a peerless divine weapon."
As she spoke, she drew her sword a foot further, saying, "This sword is named Qiongju. If this sword is second, no other sword here dares to claim first place. It is a perfect match for you, young hero!"
She boasted about herself like this without blushing at all. The second half of the statement was false, but her title as the number one swordsman in the world was genuine.
The Qiongju sword was drawn, its blade humming and its exposed surface glowing with purple light. The sword energy generated when it was drawn sent the surrounding yellow sand flying three zhang away.
A chill runs through the air; even an unsheathed sword must bend.
His cold-blooded spine arched as he raised his hand to press against the trembling longsword at his waist. He gripped the blade tightly, the edge slicing through his palm, the blood from the wound instantly soaking the blade, as if soothing the mournful sword.
He protested, saying, "No need."
No need?
Qi Tang took a deep breath and stepped forward in disbelief, "Why not? This is the number one swordsman in the world."
She lowered her head, gazing at the broken piece of metal that had defeated her, and pouted. She liked it, but she didn't like me.
She retorted, "Your sword has so many nicks and bite marks; it's time to get a new one."
She clasped her hands together and softened her voice: "Young hero, please change your sword. My sword is not only beautiful, but it can also split mountains and shatter rocks. There is no other sword like it in the world."
His eyes were bloodshot. "If the sword is perfect, what use is a person?"
Qi Tang couldn't believe that someone would actually give up such a peerless weapon as hers and instead choose an old sword covered in scars.
She choked up, "But, but even its sheath is gone."
Leng Xue coldly replied, "The sheath is the placenta of the coward."
Qi Tang glared at him. Did he expect her to take off her clothes? You scoundrel.
He lowered his eyes as if he had been burned, but he didn't move.
You can't accept a reward without merit, and there's no such thing as a free lunch.
A stunningly beautiful woman suddenly appears on a trade route shrouded in yellow sand, completely untouched by the dust, which is already highly suspicious. And then, she proceeds to gift him a peerless divine weapon from a complete stranger.
He raised his hand to touch his face, only to find his hand covered in dust and rough bumps—fine blisters from sunburn.
He knew that he looked disheveled and shabby, almost like a beggar.
What is there about her that would warrant her gifting her such a precious sword?
Blood dripped from between his fingers, and he clenched his fist, unable to help but question her motives.
A sword of unknown origin, a mysterious and beautiful woman—could this be how the silver-clad constables escorting goods on the trade route were lured away?
He spoke abruptly, as if interrogating a prisoner, "I am a constable. The heat of the northern desert is unbearable, why are you here? Where were you seven days ago? Where did this sword come from? Why did you give me this sword for no reason?"
Qi Tang was dizzy from his question. How was she supposed to answer? "I'm here to find a new master. I was with my old master seven days ago. This sword is me."
She wasn't human after all, so how could she dare to reveal everything now? After much thought, she had no choice but to answer the last question.
She stared at him, as if trying to find an irrefutable reason in him.
The storybooks she used to sneak peek at finally came in handy. She must have seen something, because her eyes lit up and she said excitedly, "Because—because I like you."
She stared at his eyes, the only part of them visible, and said longingly, "Your eyes are a cold, emerald green, like endless blue water, so beautiful."
She lied.
His eyes weren't like endless blue waters, but more like a desolate wilderness, faintly revealing mottled bloodstains, quietly waiting for the wolf pack to come and fight.
Qi Tang only thought that Tie Youxia was also a constable. He fell in love with the female ghost sister, so he was no longer afraid of her and was even willing to walk the cycle of reincarnation for her.
If the green-eyed girl falls in love with him, she will definitely be willing to become his master and nourish him with her life essence. She will also be willing to avenge her.
Her eyes grew brighter and brighter, her voice rose, and her tone trembled at the end, "I like you, that's why I want to give myself to you."
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Author's Note: On How to Sell a Sword
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