After boarding the carriage, Chen Zui laid his spear down upon the floorboard and leaned lazily against the railing.
Seeing Chen Zui act with such casual insolence, the faces of the eight martial artists in martial attire darkened at the exact same moment.
The Staff Grandmaster planted his wrought bronze staff heavily onto the ground, the staff’s butt vibrating hard enough to send crushed stones scattering in all directions.
The old man surnamed Qi, however, chuckled.
An undisguised smile broke across his deeply wrinkled face.
“This old man is beginning to understand why both Gu Yiyou and Liu Yinsheng held you in such high regard.”
Chen Zui turned his head, meeting the old man surnamed Qi’s smiling gaze.
The old man surnamed Qi smiled and said,
“Your demeanor actually looks a bit like how we used to roam the martial world back in our day.”
He turned his head and swept his gaze over the ill-tempered martial artists in martial attire beside the carriage, the smile at the corners of his mouth fading slightly.
A trace of indescribable sentiment colored his tone.
“The younger generation nowadays all put on airs.
I know not whether they have been overly disciplined by Confucian etiquette or whether the imperial court’s suppression over the years has crushed their spirit.
Roaming the martial world is all about acting freely upon gratitude and vengeance.
It is not about minding formalities and bowing at every turn.”
These words were not spoken loudly, yet every single word reached the ears of everyone present.
The faces of several martial artists in martial attire changed slightly, yet none dared to retort.
The Staff Grandmaster even averted his gaze, pretending to admire the distant mountain contours.
Just then, the young boy named A-Tong leaned halfway out of the carriage cabin.
His bright eyes stared intently at Chen Zui.
Swallowing hard, he asked tentatively,
“Big Brother, do you really know Senior Gu?”
Chen Zui looked at the boy who had suddenly popped up and gave a slight smile.
“I do.”
“Then... then could you tell me about him?”
A-Tong’s voice carried a hint of uncertainty, as though afraid he would be refused if he probed too much.
The old man surnamed Qi also turned his head without saying a word.
He simply nudged the saber across his knees further to the side, making a more spacious spot.
His intention could not have been clearer:
He wanted to listen too.
Seeing this, the corner of Chen Zui’s mouth curled slightly as he shifted into a more comfortable posture against the railing.
He turned his gaze toward the clouds and mist swirling around the mountainside of Cangwu Ridge in the distance.
“There’s nothing that can’t be shared...”
From there, he recounted in detail how he had heard news of the Sword Attendant Gu Yiyou at that inn and rushed all the way to Luoyan City.
Throughout the story, A-Tong’s mouth opened wider and wider, his expression shifting from curiosity to shock, and then from shock to an unspeakable yearning.
When Chen Zui described the final moment Gu Yiyou drew his sword, unleashing a phenomenon capable of overturning mountains and rivers with a single strike, the boy’s breathing grew noticeably heavier.
“What about Senior Sword Saint?”
A-Tong asked impatiently.
Chen Zui let out a chuckle, taking the small celadon bottle from his bosom and tossing it lightly in his palm.
“Senior Liu? In front of Qingya Academy's gates, he blocked a fight on my behalf, left me three strands of sword qi, and gave me this bottle of medicine.”
“Amazing!”
A-Tong listened with wide, transfixed eyes.
“Three strands of sword qi—that’s sword qi from Sword Saint Liu!
How many people in the martial world beg in vain for Sword Saint Liu to give them just half a pointer?
Yet he gave you three whole strands in one go!”
“You do know your stuff, kid.”
Chen Zui reached out and patted A-Tong’s head.
The old man surnamed Qi watched this without speaking, though the smile on his lips deepened even further.
Although A-Tong’s cultivation was modest, he was something of a little tyrant within the Furnace-Listening Pavilion.
If any ordinary disciple dared to pat his head, he would chase them all over the courtyard.
Yet, upon having his head patted by a young spearman he had known for less than half a shichen, not only did he not dodge, but he leaned in even closer to Chen Zui.
Chen Zui then gave a general account of the battle against Cao Zhengchun before the mountain gate of Qingya Academy.
He spoke of Liu Yinsheng’s sword falling from the highest heavens, the origin and purpose of the three strands of sword qi, and how Liu Yinsheng had pursued him to the foot of the mountain to bestow the medicine and sword qi.
A-Tong’s eyes grew wider and wider as he listened, his mouth forming a perfect 'O'.
When he heard how Chen Zui had used a single strand of Liu Yinsheng’s sword qi and one thrust of his spear to defeat the combined assault of Zhizhou Tower’s twelve Second Rank martial artists, he jumped right up from the floorboard, nearly bashing his head against the carriage roof.
“A single strand of sword qi knocked down twelve Second Ranks? Heavens! That’s way too amazing!”
He grabbed Chen Zui’s sleeve, looking entirely earnest as he said,
“Brother Chen, teach me your spear techniques, all right?”
Taken aback for a moment by being addressed as “Brother Chen,” Chen Zui immediately smiled.
“Aren’t you a disciple of the Furnace-Listening Pavilion? Why would someone learning weapon forging want to learn spear techniques?”
“Who says weapon forgers can’t learn the spear!”
A-Tong retorted self-righteously, pointing at the old man surnamed Qi beside them.
“Grandpa Qi was also a weapon forger back then, yet wasn’t his saber technique famous throughout the world?”
Listening from the side, the old man surnamed Qi finally could not help but let out a chuckle.
The laugh was not loud, yet it caused the eight martial artists in martial attire guarding the carriage ahead to turn their heads in unison.
Having stayed in the Furnace-Listening Pavilion for so many years, they could count on one hand the number of times they had seen this venerable senior smile.
On ordinary days, the most common expression on his face was no expression at all.
A rare furrow of his brows was enough to silence the disciples across the entire courtyard in fear.
And right now, he was actually laughing.
“That kid’s mouth is full of names like Sword Saint Liu and Sword Attendant Gu. Heaven knows if it's true or false,”
one martial artist grumbled with clear displeasure.
Another snorted coldly.
“Even if it’s true, so what?
Just a Mountain-Viewing Realm martial artist relying on a few opportunities bestowed by his seniors, yet he genuinely takes himself for somebody important.”
“Indeed.
I just don’t understand.
It’s not like our Furnace-Listening Pavilion lacks promising seedlings.
Martial Nephew Han entered the Mountain-Viewing Realm at age twenty-six, with a solid foundation and rigorous saber techniques.
After seeking guidance under Elder Qi for three years, Elder Qi only spoke four sentences to him in total.
This kid here just has a sweet mouth and can tell stories, so why would Elder Qi...”
“Enough, both of you say less.”
At this point, the Staff Grandmaster cut them off.
Yet his tone was equally tinged with reluctance.
“Elder Qi has his own reasons.
When Elder Qi was roaming the martial world, even our masters had yet to enter the sect.
His discernment is not something we can fathom.”
Though he said this, his gaze could not help but glance back once again at the transport wagon behind them.
Upon the wagon board, the elder, the youth, and the young boy were already chatting with great fervor, seemingly having forgotten entirely that they were still on a road fraught with peril.
He did not understand.
Why did Elder Qi regard this person with such favor?
This venerable senior, Elder Qi, was no ordinary figure.
Qi Tianchen.
Forty years ago in the martial world, this name was spoken in the same breath as Sword Immortal Shen and Old Immortal Qiu.
Furnace-Listening Pavilion had a century-old foundation built on forging armaments; martial arts heritage was never its strong suit, though the weapons it forged were world-renowned.
Though the sect lacked no masters to hold the fort, looking across the entire martial world, very few within its ranks ever reached the pinnacle of the Martial Dao.
The strongest among successive generations of disciples was merely at the Wind-Riding Realm great perfection; none had ever truly stood at the Peak of the Martial Dao.
Only this Elder Qi was an anomaly.
Boundless Realm peak.
Merely one step away from reaching the summit of Earthly Immortal.
For such a figure who had once stood at the very ceiling of martial arts, how many young talents within Furnace-Listening Pavilion dreamed of receiving even a single word of guidance from him?
Yet he had never shown particular interest in anyone.
Even when those exceptionally gifted disciples displayed all their skills before him, the most they ever earned in return was a mere “Not bad.”
And yet now, Qi Tianchen was smiling as he listened to a young spearman who had appeared out of nowhere recount mundane tales of wandering the martial world, even nodding repeatedly.
The Staff Grandmaster felt more and more bitter the more he thought about it, and with a flick of his sleeves, he simply strode to the front of the convoy.
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