Chapter 58: Eliminating the Three Evils (Seeking First Subscription~)
Returning to Greenleaf Peak.
After a brief period of rest, Song Yan calmed his mind and sank his spiritual sense into the realm of the Two Principles.
At a glance, the embryonic heart transformed into a small sword had returned to the seed of swordsmanship.
The flying sword, once known as "Heart Demon," had undergone an immense change.
Its hilt remained as black as ink, but now white patterns appeared upon its surface.
Scattered waves of dark flame still flickered around the hilt.
There was no distinct guard between hilt and blade, only a brilliant white glow, conspicuous amid the darkness.
The blade’s former blackness had dissolved, now radiant and flawless.
Perhaps it was the interplay of black and white within the Two Principles realm, but the sword’s body now emanated a faint, luminous white light.
“What a fine sword!”
Even though Song Yan knew little about swordcraft and flying swords, the blade’s appearance and quality were enough to inspire genuine admiration.
Perhaps it was simply that he had never seen its like before.
Yet this sword stood before him, and it was the finest he had ever laid eyes upon.
He manipulated his spiritual sense, taking a few steps forward, the form of his spiritual body reaching out to touch the sword’s hilt.
The instant his spiritual sense brushed against the sword, a sudden change occurred.
The scattered waves of dark flame around the hilt, and the streak of white light within the ink-black hilt, surged through his fingertips toward him.
A surge of agony erupted from the depths of his soul, his spiritual sense quaking, his consciousness growing blurred.
“Ugh…”
He grunted, and all before his eyes turned chaotic.
In his fading awareness, the black and white of the Two Principles realm swirled in tumultuous clouds…
…
…
How it hurt…
His head throbbed terribly…
He felt as if his skull might split.
Buzz—
Enduring the discomfort of ringing ears, he forced open one eye.
When the sensation eased somewhat, he slowly opened the other.
Where was he…?
He lifted his gaze to find rural fields, mud-brick walls.
His mind was hazy, stumbling forward with uncertain steps.
He met passersby, wishing to ask them something, but the villagers, upon seeing him, recoiled as though they faced a specter, hurrying to avoid him.
Whispers surrounded him, flooding his mind and making his already muddled thoughts even more confused.
“That Zhou family boy—who will he trouble today?”
“Say no more—quick, shut the doors!”
…
At some moment,
Like a wild ghost returned, his mind regained clarity.
This was Jin Kingdom, Xingyi Prefecture, Xianyang Village.
His name was Zhou Ziyin.
…
Zhou Ziyin lost his father in childhood; his mother, stricken with grief, fell ill and soon passed away before she could discipline him.
The villagers pitied his loneliness and indulged him, but this led him to live recklessly and without restraint.
By day, he rode horses through young crops; by night, he drunkenly smashed taverns. The villagers dared not voice their anger.
He was born with great strength—before reaching adulthood, he was unmatched in physical power. Yet he lacked refinement, violent and domineering, acting on every whim.
At that time, a white-browed tiger from the southern Yangshan devoured people and livestock; a vicious flood dragon in the northern river overturned boats and drowned fishermen.
The people, suffering without end, began to speak of Zhou Ziyin in the same breath as the tiger and the dragon…
The “Three Scourges.”
…
One day, Zhou Ziyin staggered through the market with a wine jar, spotting an old man weeping at the corner.
Anger rising within him, he kicked over the wine jar, smashing it beside the old man. “Why are you mourning, old man?!”
“Your wailing disturbs the peace!”
Terrified, the old man shrank back. “Last night, the white-browed tiger of the southern hills killed two more people. My only son—he died without a body to bury…”
Before the old man finished, Zhou Ziyin burst out laughing. “Just a beast! Watch me take its head tomorrow!”
The next morning, with the mist still lingering, Zhou Ziyin entered the mountains with a blade.
The tiger’s roar was wild and fierce, echoing through the forest, pine needles trembling.
The white-browed tiger leapt from the cliff, its claws slicing through the air, lunging at him.
Tiger claws tore away half his sleeve, leaving three deep wounds.
Zhou Ziyin seemed unconcerned. In a flash, he threw his knife, striking the tiger’s eye.
“Roar—!”
The beast howled in pain, rolling over. Zhou Ziyin vaulted onto its back, his iron fists raining down until he shattered the tiger’s skull.
He dragged the tiger’s corpse down the mountain, returning to the village. Passersby and villagers stared in astonishment.
“He actually did it…”
“One of the Three Scourges is gone—no matter what, that’s good news!”
The villagers discussed it, but Zhou Ziyin paid them no mind, only annoyed by their noisy chatter.
He dragged the tiger’s corpse to the old man, only to find him still crying.
“You old man! Look carefully!”
He tossed the tiger’s body before him. “The beast is dead! Why are you still weeping?”
His glare was fierce as he stared at the old man.
But the old man continued to sob, “The flood dragon in Yangjiang Xuan Pool has drowned fishermen and boatmen. My brother—he died with no grave…”
Zhou Ziyin sneered, dropped the tiger’s corpse, and strode off straight to Xuan Pool.
…
Ordinary folk, hearing of the flood dragon, only felt dread and sorrow.
But Zhou Ziyin, filled with violent rage, was determined to strike it down.
On the northern bank of Yangjiang Xuan Pool, the river wind stank of blood, the flood dragon’s scales were like iron, its tail smashing boats to splinters.
Zhou Ziyin leapt into the rapids with his blade, battling the dragon for three days and nights.
The river churned as if boiling, villagers gathered on shore, burning incense, waiting for the waves to settle. When the waters calmed, no one was seen; they beat drums and spread the news:
“The Three Scourges are gone!”
Yet Zhou Ziyin and the flood dragon, rising and sinking, fought in Xuan Pool for three days and nights, and finally he severed its head.
After three days of battle, Zhou Ziyin was famished.
With no food at hand, he skinned the dragon and ate its flesh raw.
The dragon meat was warm and nourishing—a hearty meal.
Within the dragon’s belly, he found an ancient sword.
The sword, long steeped in the dragon’s vicious energy, was inky black, its blade swirling like storm clouds.
Zhou Ziyin laughed to the sky, rode the dragon’s corpse down the river, and returned.
Covered in blood, dragging the dragon’s corpse ashore, he saw the villagers celebrating with lanterns and banners, somewhat perplexed.
How was it that, before he returned, every household had already begun to rejoice?
Entering the village, he heard their cheers abruptly fall silent, the people fleeing in panic.
Angered, he seized a villager and demanded, “Why do you all fear me so?”
Trembling, the villager replied, “Word has spread that Ziyin died—so we celebrate the end of all Three Scourges!”
Zhou Ziyin staggered back, the ancient sword clattering to the ground.
He gazed at his reflection in a puddle—disheveled, red-eyed, looking even more savage than the tiger or the dragon.
…
Outside Xianyang Village, at the Three Scourges Tomb.
Zhou Ziyin sat forlornly before the grave, beside him the dragon’s corpse.
The ancient sword was casually thrust into the dragon’s skull.
“A prodigal’s return is worth more than gold—turn your heart and become a worthy man~”
Suddenly, a song drifted from behind.
He turned to see the old man from the village, once seen weeping.
Now he wore a dark Taoist robe, pouring wine from a gourd, the sight of him oddly dazzling.
The old man’s appearance changed, becoming that of a middle-aged cultivator.
A glow of spiritual light flew from the wine gourd, transforming into a flying sword. The old man rose lightly, standing upon the sword.
“As the ancients said: ‘In the morning, learn the Way, and in the evening, die content…’”
“Ziyin, would you begin anew?”
The inspiration for this flying sword story comes from the historical tale “Zhou Chu Eliminates Three Scourges” and the creative adaptation of the legendary sword “Suppress Evil” from Sword Net 3.