Chapter 56: News of the Sword-Cleansing

"......"

Song Yan was somewhat speechless.

To be honest, the price was exceedingly cheap, but was she expecting to force him to buy it if he refused?

He had noticed this freckled girl earlier, for most female cultivators in the Immortal Realm possessed fair skin and beauty.

Her freckles made her stand out. Medical books referred to this as "dark stars on the face," and in certain remote, undeveloped places, people considered such features an ominous sign, a harbinger of solitary misfortune.

"Hey! Xiao Ju, what are you doing?"

The other female cultivators from "Seamless Garments" hurried out, one stopping the girl, while the rest apologized to Song Yan.

"Sorry, senior brother, she's a bit eccentric..."

"Don't take it to heart."

Song Yan nodded, glancing at her. At this moment, the girl wore a stubborn expression, as if she were enduring something.

He pondered for a moment, then strode away.

Truth be told, the price of three-patterned spirit stones was tempting, yet a tailored robe was neither urgent nor necessary for him now.

If he truly needed one, he could order it later.

"......"

Passing a certain alley in the market, he seemed to recall something.

"The Idle Heart Pavilion... should be right here."

Relying on his memory, he arrived at the pavilion where he'd previously exchanged goods with Ke Huai and others.

The doorman inquired, "Are you here for a casual tea or to reserve a private room for discussion?"

"...Just for tea."

"Very well, five-patterned spirit stones to enter."

Five-patterned spirit stones?!

Song Yan's first reaction was that it was expensive!

But then he reconsidered.

If there were spiritual fruits and tea served, it might not be a loss, and the environment was elegant and clean, so he paid the spirit stones without hesitation.

A plate of spiritual fruits, a pot of spiritual tea.

The hall was sparsely filled with cultivators. Song Yan sat alone at a table, carefully reading the ancient book in his hands.

"In ancient times, sword cultivators often carried sword gourds and sword cases, containers specially used to nurture their life-bound flying swords..."

Sword gourds were rare in today's Immortal Realm.

Sword cases still existed, but they were seldom used for storing flying swords; cultivators collected them mainly as antiques.

After all, there was no difference between retrieving a flying sword from a spatial pouch or from a sword case or gourd—it even seemed redundant.

With the ancient sword cultivator tradition severed, sword cases and gourds now served only as decoration.

The "Tales of Ancient Swords" said that sword cultivators were once common, and sword cases and gourds had many ingenious uses, though what these uses were remained unknown.

That era had long been swallowed by the river of history.

"......"

Song Yan sighed softly.

Since acquiring the Twofold Pearl, he had read countless materials and records about ancient sword cultivators.

Yet a sense of frustration accumulated in his heart...

All the descriptions claimed sword cultivators were powerful.

"One sword shatters ten thousand arts," "the weak triumph over the strong, slaying enemies above their level"...

If sword cultivators were truly so formidable, why did their tradition vanish so suddenly?

The simple explanation "prosperity leads to decline" could not ease Song Yan's mind.

"What really happened..."

No one knew.

"Sword cultivators were not all righteous guardians who slew monsters and upheld justice..."

Hm?

Song Yan's eyes narrowed, and he continued reading.

"Ancient pure sword cultivators were wholly devoted to the 'sword', which naturally led to a consensus in the Immortal Realm..."

"Sword cultivators are often stubborn and obsessive."

"Many of them, taking an extreme path, stray and ignore all advice from friends and companions, their numbers countless."

"If a sword cultivator's Dao heart is beset by demonic thoughts, falling to the evil path becomes inevitable and irreversible."

"Evil swords are the special flying swords formed after sword cultivators succumb to the demonic path, with their life-bound swords corrupted by demonic intent and sword will."

"Most evil swords become dull after their wielders perish."

"With time, Dao heart, sword will, and demonic thoughts fade away together."

Song Yan mused, his fingertip brushing the next line.

"But some evil swords are not truly corrupted; their life-bound flying swords remain pure, only trapped by demonic thoughts within the sword body, which is manipulated by those thoughts..."

"......"

"Hoo..."

He drew a deep breath.

It took Song Yan more than half an hour to finish reading the entire "Tales of Ancient Swords."

It was indeed complicated...

Was the "heart demon" such a flying sword?

"......"

Closing the book, Song Yan finally had a moment to set down the lid of his cup.

Inhaling the fragrance of the tea, he took a sip.

Much time had passed; the tea was no longer hot, but flowed warmly into his belly.

A trace of coolness rose from his abdomen.

His divine sense became clear, and the fatigue from reading vanished without a trace.

"This spiritual tea is marvelous..."

"Though it doesn't enhance divine sense, it seems to alleviate fatigue to some degree."

With this refreshing sensation, Song Yan allowed his thoughts to drift, beginning to plan his next moves.

Now that he had embarked on the path of ancient sword cultivation, it was clear that his priority should be to improve the grade of his sword dao seed and temper his Dao heart and sword intent.

In seven months, he had an appointment with Rong Xiaofeng and Wu Huaguo.

"Even if the cultivator's cave mansion contains no supreme spiritual objects, this matter ought to be addressed soon..."

While Song Yan was mulling over his plans, the Idle Heart Pavilion gradually filled with more cultivators.

Voices rose in animated chatter.

He glanced at the time—it was nearing dusk.

Most cultivators who set up stalls or traded in the market had finished for the day.

It was not a special occasion, and the night market would not open, so lingering longer was pointless.

Better to enjoy some tea.

Song Yan munched on two spiritual fruits, a thread of cool spirit energy rising within him.

"Five-patterned spirit stones—not wasted!"

He was about to rise and return to his cave abode when he overheard a group of disciples from the Abyss Sect chatting nearby.

"Senior Brother Zheng, I've noticed lately there are many unfamiliar inner sect brothers and sisters in the sect..."

"If you count the days, it should be nearly time for the Sword Testing Gathering."

"Oh..."

"Some senior brothers and sisters spend years traveling outside; being gone five or six years is normal."

The speaker seemed to be an inner sect disciple of some years.

"The sect's steward disciples send carrier pigeons about a year and a half in advance to those traveling outside; if they can make it back, they'll return for the grand event."

"I see."

Song Yan was already aware of this.

Whether in the Heart Cultivation Courtyard or the Outer Affairs Hall, everyone had been discussing it lately.

The reason was simple. For some unknown reason, the upcoming Sword Testing Gathering next year would offer extraordinarily rich rewards.

According to experienced seniors, previous years were mere formalities, promoting new disciples.

This time, however, was different—apparently in preparation for a grand event to be held in the Central Region, the rewards were lavish.

Nearly every traveling disciple who received a carrier pigeon was hurrying home.

"I wonder if the rewards for the Sword Testing Gathering include supreme spiritual objects..."

It was clear to Song Yan that winning rewards under such circumstances would be exceptionally difficult, but...

How would he know without trying?

Song Yan retraced his steps, passing by Seamless Garments.

Now the storefront was deserted. The freckled girl sat on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried deep.

"......"

A neatly folded yet old and worn Dao robe lay before her.

On it rested three spirit stones.

"?"

The girl lifted her head. Song Yan's gaze was calm.

"I want a Dao robe—exactly the same as this."

After the recent battle at Silent Valley, his robe had been damaged; thinking it over, he did need a new one.

But no one could force him to buy...

It was his freedom, Song Yan's own choice.