The moment the sword lamp went out.
Jinyang City did not immediately realize what had happened.
At that time, Butcher Wang at the south city market intersection was chopping ribs.
With one chop of his cleaver, the half-carcass of a pig on the chopping block suddenly shuddered.
It was not the dead pig carcass shuddering, but the chopping block beneath it.
He looked up in curiosity to find the two rows of iron hooks hanging from the crossbeam knocking against one another, emitting crisp clinking sounds.
The pork hanging from the iron hooks was swaying as if something was surging up from deep within the earth, rattling the very foundations of the entire city.
Thinking it was an earthquake, Butcher Wang threw down his cleaver and ran out into the street.
Yet when he reached the middle of the street, he discovered that everyone had stopped their work.
Everyone in the street raised their heads, looking in the same direction.
Wangchao Pavilion.
The eight-sided, nine-story pavilion still stood in the center of the city, its upturned eaves and bracket sets as majestic as ever.
Yet the faint blue sword lamp atop the pavilion had gone out.
The sword lamp had burned for a full twenty years, unextinguished by wind or rain, undying in the face of thunder and lightning.
Some younger residents of Jinyang City had even grown up accustomed to that speck of faint blue light hanging suspended at the highest point of the city for as long as they could remember.
It had become a part of the city, an unspoken given in everyone's daily lives.
Yet now, it was out.
After several breaths of silence, the entire city erupted into an uproar.
“The lamp went out! The lamp atop Wangchao Pavilion went out!”
“Did something happen to Sword God Lü?”
“Sword Immortal Shen is here! It must be Sword Immortal Shen!”
The pedestrians on the main street surged toward the city gates from all directions, like a tide stirred by an invisible hand.
Meanwhile, on Guanchao Street—the widest thoroughfare in the north of the city—a grand procession of men and horses had just come to a halt.
Twelve horsemen dismounted, eight guards flanked both sides, and the Shu brocade curtains of the golden-thread nanmu carriage were still swaying gently.
Third Prince Zhao Li lifted the carriage curtain and was about to step onto an attendant's back to dismount, but his extended foot froze midair.
He saw the direction of Wangchao Pavilion.
The silhouette of the nine-story pavilion still stood in the twilight, but the lamp at its top was gone.
“The lamp is out.”
His voice lowered half a beat involuntarily.
Qingyangzi leaned out from the carriage as well, looking in the direction of Zhao Li's gaze.
“Sword Immortal Shen has arrived. He came quite fast.”
Zhao Li pulled back his foot and stood on the carriage step. Looking at the dark pavilion that had lost its light, the curve of his lips slowly curled upward.
He had thought he would have to wait several more days, even preparing to linger in Jinyang City for ten days to half a month.
He never expected Sword Immortal Shen to arrive so abruptly, giving them no time to prepare whatsoever.
Yet this was fine as well.
“Daoist Master.”
Zhao Li turned around, his gaze falling upon the Black Iron Heaven-Measuring Ruler at Qingyangzi's waist.
“We don't have much time. Go quickly and prepare for that matter.”
Qingyangzi nodded and leaped down from the carriage.
His green cloth Daoist robe flashed in the twilight and vanished into the depths of the alleys.
Zhao Li looked up once more toward Wangchao Pavilion.
The twilight deepened.
The last ray of sunset on the horizon was sinking beneath the sea level, dyeing the ten thousand leagues of waves across the Eastern Sea in shades of dark gold.
Deep in his pupils, that dark golden sea was reflected, along with the solitary, lightless tower overlooking the waters.
...
At the entrance of Laifu Inn on South Street.
Just as Chen Zui stepped over the threshold, a clamor of voices rose from the street behind him.
It was not the ordinary bustle of the marketplace, but exclamations rising simultaneously from all directions, sweeping over South Street like a tide and surging toward the north of the city.
A-Tong grabbed Chen Zui's sleeve.
“Brother Chen, look!”
He pointed toward Wangchao Pavilion.
Chen Zui looked up, his pupils contracting slightly.
The sword lamp was out.
The sword lamp that had supposedly never gone out in twenty years did not have even a remnant trace of faint light left.
The upturned eaves of Wangchao Pavilion stood lonely in the twilight, like a sword that had lost its edge.
“Sword Immortal Shen has arrived.”
When Chen Zui spoke those words, an uncharacteristic ripple of emotion surfaced in his voice.
Qin Tiegu strode out from behind him. Glancing up toward Wangchao Pavilion, his expression changed drastically.
He turned and shouted into the inn.
“Leave your things for now! Everyone, head to the city gate to watch the battle!”
Chen Zui lifted his spear and followed. A-Tong ran at the very front, turning back as he ran to urge them to hurry.
...
Outside the city gate, above the Eastern Sea.
Ten thousand leagues of azure waves surged like rolling silver.
Two figures stood facing each other from afar across a hundred zhang of sea.
One wore a snapping green robe, dashing and unrestrained like a banished immortal from a painting.
One wore simple gray robes, calm and solitary like a lone reef in the ocean.
Yet the sea beneath their feet presented completely contrasting phenomena.
On Shen Xingzhi's side, the sea surface was flat as a mirror, without even a single ripple.
It was as if the entire ocean was suppressed by some invisible force into a gigantic sapphire.
On Lü Beisheng's side, the seawater was flowing backward.
Surging from low to high, it seemed as if countless invisible hands were lifting the seawater toward the sky.
Shen Xingzhi's gaze fell upon “Sheiru” in Lü Beisheng's hand.
The blade reflected the shining light of the Eastern Sea's ten thousand leagues of waves. As cold glints shifted across it, a faint dragon's roar even seemed to resonate from deep within the sword spine.
He watched for a moment, then suddenly chuckled.
“That old fellow Qi Tianchen certainly has quite the bravado.”
Standing with his hands behind his back above the sea, his green robe flapping noisily in the sea wind, his tone carried the banter of old friends.
“Naming this sword ‘Sheiru’.
Who can compare to it?
I wonder if he was talking about this sword, or that Xie Qingyi.”
Lü Beisheng looked down at the sword in his hand.
The blade was slender, a fraction narrower than his “Changgeng” of old.
Along the spine ran an extremely fine fuller extending all the way from the crossguard to the tip.
At the bottom of the groove, a dark golden glow faintly gleamed.
Gripping the hilt, he felt the ceaseless surge of sharpness emanating from the blade.
Lü Beisheng raised his eyes to look at the figure in the flapping green robe a hundred zhang away, a very faint smile rising at the corners of his lips.
“The sword currently missing by Sword Immortal Shen's side, is it not that Sword Attendant Senior Gu, Gu Yiyou?”
His voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly across the sea a hundred zhang away.
“To you, sword or person, are they not the same thing?”
Shen Xingzhi was slightly taken aback.
He looked down at his empty hands and laughed freely.
“You're right about that.”
Shen Xingzhi raised his head, his gaze crossing a hundred zhang of sea to rest upon Lü Beisheng.
“My sword is still in this world. Although it is a bit dull and a bit rusty, at least it is still around.”
He paused, his tone suddenly sinking.
“Unfortunately, your sword was destroyed with your own hands.”
The sea breeze abruptly ceased.
In this instant, the ten thousand leagues of azure waves became as quiet as a giant sapphire, without even a single ripple.
“You have truly suffered.”
Shen Xingzhi's voice echoed across the sea, carrying a sense of pity and respect.
“Lü Beisheng.”
He called him by his full name, his tone solemn.
“Let this old man see just what realm the sword intent you suppressed for twenty years has reached.”
Lü Beisheng let out a wry smile, turning his back to look toward the capital.
“Senior, do you think the two of us can fight this battle with peace of mind?”
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