Murong Qingnü stood beneath the archway, the moonlight stretching her shadow long and thin.
Decades of resentment surged within those amber eyes of hers, yet the corner of her lips held a faint, frosty curve.
She was waiting—waiting to see how Qi Tianchen would answer her words.
Qi Tianchen stood atop the transport wagon, the moonlight falling across his deeply wrinkled face.
A-Tong had never seen Grandpa Qi like this.
In his memory, Grandpa Qi had always been the old man sitting unflinchingly before the weapon-forging furnace.
Even if the heavens collapsed, he would not knit his brow in the slightest.
Yet at this moment, this Great Grandmaster at the Boundless Realm peak stood under the moonlight.
He appeared so aged, so hunched over...
“Little Qingnü.”
Qi Tianchen’s voice was raspy, nearly breaking.
“Every single word you said is true.”
He slowly lifted his head, a faint glimmer of tears welling in those turbid eyes.
A Great Grandmaster at the Boundless Realm peak who had lived to such an age had seen every tempest and weathered every brush with life and death. Yet at this moment, the rims of his eyes turned red.
“In this life, I have done right by Furnace-Listening Pavilion, done right by the martial world, and done right by this saber.”
He slowly raised the long saber in his hands, its scabbard gleaming with a faint, cold sheen under the moonlight.
“The only ones I have wronged are two people: one is Qingyi, and the other is myself.”
Murong Qingnü’s brows twitched slightly, but she did not speak.
“You ask why I did not die.”
Qi Tianchen’s voice suddenly grew calm.
“Little Qingnü, let me tell you.
I thought about it.
I thought about it for thirty whole years.
To this day, I still clearly remember that last glance Qingyi gave me as she turned her head back before Grand Shuo’s layered ranks of iron cavalry.
She said nothing at all. She merely smiled.”
Qi Tianchen’s voice began to tremble.
“The moment that sword strike of hers slashed out, I knew that in this lifetime, I would never be able to repay this debt.”
He lowered his head, his withered fingers repeatedly stroking the jasper on the scabbard.
“I thought countless times of drawing my saber to take my own life.
Yet I knew that this life of mine was bought with Qingyi’s own.
If I were to die so recklessly, with what face could I meet her in the underworld?”
He took a deep breath and slowly raised his head, meeting Murong Qingnü’s gaze.
“So I dragged out an ignoble existence for these thirty years.
Throughout these thirty years, I forged myriad weapons day and night without rest.
With every hammer blow, I wondered what I could do for Qingyi in the future.”
He turned and gently patted the long saber named Suiyue at his side.
The scabbard let out a low hum, as if responding to its master.
“Little Qingnü, I did not come to Mirror Water Villa today to beg for your forgiveness.
I know I am unworthy.”
He paused.
“I have come to beg you for one thing.”
Murong Qingnü watched him coldly, remaining silent.
“Let Furnace-Listening Pavilion’s convoy pass. Let them deliver the sword Sheiru to Jinyang City.”
Murong Qingnü’s brows knitted together.
“Sword Immortal Shen and Sword God Lü are to duel in Jinyang City. This battle concerns the martial landscape of the Two Realms.”
Qi Tianchen’s voice was steady and resolute.
“The Grand Shuo Royal Court is watching like a hawk, and the current Emperor is secretly adding fuel to the fire, wishing nothing more than for both Earthly Sword Immortals to perish.
If anything goes awry with this battle, it will not merely implicate one or two people, but the entire martial world.”
He paused, a flicker of resolve flashing in his eyes.
“I have lived for seventy years and forged sabers my entire life. My cultivation has reached the peak of the Boundless Realm, yet I have always fallen short of crossing that final line.
It is not for a lack of talent, but because guilt weighs on my heart.
That insurmountable hurdle was left behind by the sword strike Qingyi blocked for me.
I have owed her for thirty years.
Today, it is time to repay it.”
Murong Qingnü’s brow twitched sharply as she seemed to realize something.
“Qi Tianchen, what are you trying to do?”
Qi Tianchen did not answer her. Instead, he turned around and looked toward the disciples of Furnace-Listening Pavilion beside the transport wagon.
His gaze swept across the eight martial artists in martial attire one by one, finally resting upon A-Tong, whose upper body poked out from the carriage cabin.
A-Tong’s eyes were wide and round, his lips quivering.
“A-Tong.”
Qi Tianchen suddenly smiled.
“My emergence from seclusion this time was not to escort this sword.”
He turned back around, gazing toward Murong Qingnü, his voice calm as still water.
“I came to Mirror Water Villa to atone. I have come here to undergo martial release and dissolve my Dao.”
The moment those words were spoken, A-Tong’s pupils contracted violently, all color draining from his youthful face.
Though young, he had heard his master speak of the phrase “martial release and Dao dissolution.”
It was the most resolute method of atonement among martial artists.
By using one’s own power to shatter all meridians throughout the body, one dispersed a lifetime of cultivation, turning all that power into a final offering to heaven and earth.
Once the power was completely dispersed, if one were lucky, an intact corpse would remain; if unlucky, not even bone fragments would be left behind.
The faces of the eight martial artists in martial attire turned deathly pale in that very same instant.
They finally understood why Qi Tianchen, who had been in seclusion for many years, would suddenly emerge.
Why this senior expert, who had long detached himself from worldly affairs, would personally escort this shipment.
He was not here to guard the sword.
He had come to embrace death.
Before dying, he wanted to cast one last glance upon the place where Xie Qingyi’s bones were buried.
He wanted to repay his life right here in front of this mountain gate.
“Elder Qi!”
The eight martial artists in martial attire cried out almost in unison.
The Staff Grandmaster even slammed his wrought bronze staff onto the ground and made to charge up onto the transport wagon.
Yet Qi Tianchen raised a hand in a downward pressing gesture, an invisible burst of energy freezing the man's figure firmly in place.
“Let me finish speaking.”
Qi Tianchen’s voice was not loud, but carried an irresistible majesty.
He turned to look at Murong Qingnü, the moonlight dyeing his white hair in a coat of silver frost.
“Little Qingnü, you are right.
I have owed Mirror Water Villa a life for thirty years.
Today, I shall repay it with this very life.
I only ask that you let these juniors of mine pass with the sword.”
He took a deep breath, a nearly imperceptible tremor entering his voice.
“I shall disperse the entirety of my cultivation at the Boundless Realm peak right here.
Once dispersed, there will be no turning back.
When that time comes, all past scores between your Mirror Water Villa and Furnace-Listening Pavilion shall be wiped clean.”
“Grandpa Qi!”
A-Tong stumbled out of the carriage cabin, tears streaming down his face.
“You cannot do this! Didn’t you say you would teach me saber techniques? You haven’t finished teaching me yet!”
Qi Tianchen turned his head and looked at A-Tong’s youthful face, a profound fondness flickering in his eyes.
“A-Tong, whatever I could teach you, I have already taught you along the road. The rest you must comprehend for yourself.”
He paused.
“If I have any regrets left, it is that I could not see you forge your first divine weapon with my own eyes.”
A-Tong’s tears fell pattering against the wagon board as he bit his lip hard, fighting not to let out a wail.
Murong Qingnü stood where she was, the moonlight casting her aloof face as though sculpted from jade.
She remained silent for a long time, so long that the night wind dried a layer of dew upon the bamboo grove.
“Qi Tianchen.”
She finally spoke, her voice several degrees lower than before.
“Do you truly believe that undergoing martial release here can compensate for the life of my Martial Aunt Xie?”
Rate on N.U.
