Most of the swords in the Sword Mound were left behind by cultivators of the Xuantian Sword Sect after their demise. Cultivators would form bonds with these swords until they themselves perished, continuing an endless cycle.
Alternatively, there were nameless swords found during worldly trials, which could be exchanged for spirit stones at the Mission Hall. Consequently, most disciples were willing to bring back a few whenever it was convenient.
As time passed, the number of swords in the Sword Mound grew larger and larger.
Among the fallen cultivators, there were bound to be great masters. With a stroke of good luck, if a bonded sword possessed sword intent, the cultivator could even comprehend the legacy left within it.
And Ye Xingchen was the only person in thousands of years within the Xuantian Sword Sect to be favored by every single sword in the Sword Mound.
“The Sword Mound opens once every ten years. The opportunities of each disciple must not be forced!”
Following a loud shout from the Elder, the Sword Mound’s stone tablet actually split into two from the middle. Heavy iron chains dragged across the ground, producing a deep, heavy sound that felt ancient and primitive.
A massive crowd of disciples stood outside the Sword Mound, appearing incredibly small by comparison.
Light filtered in at an angle, casting dark shadows upon the ground.
Rong Nianfeng’s heart inexplicably skipped a beat. Subconsciously, he looked toward Ye Xingchen beside him.
The youth stood at the intersection of light and shadow, his shadow stretched long and thin. His picture-perfect face was utterly devoid of color, and his eyes looked weary, indifferent, and distant.
He had been here ten years ago, so this could be considered revisiting an old haunt, yet there was not a hint of self-satisfaction in him. Things remained, but people had changed. Back then, his glory had aroused the jealousy and hatred of countless cultivators; now, just as many people were kicking him while he was down.
Beneath his feet, there was no longer any humming sound.
He was like an evil ghost fallen into purgatory, carrying nothing but an ominous aura. Wherever Ye Xingchen walked, there were no longer any anomalous movements from the swords.
Rong Nianfeng did not know what had happened to Ye Xingchen’s body, but the scene before his eyes looked truly desolate and sorrowful.
Xie Si’an, however, was different from him. Wherever Xie Si’an walked, lotuses bloomed with every step, and the myriad swords began to stir once more. Sensing the trembling of the earth beneath their feet, amazement filled everyone’s eyes.
“This, what kind of monster is this Xie Si’an!”
“Ten thousand swords returning to their ancestor, a heavenly phenomenon descending.”
“Is he a chosen prodigy?”
At the same time, at the peaks of the four summits of the Xuantian Sword Sect, pillars of light in strange colors connected heaven and earth. Everyone within the sect looked over in unison.
“Ye Xingchen has entered the Sword Mound again? Truly enviable.”
“I wonder which sword he will choose this year. The last time, he obtained the one left behind by the previous Sect Master. I heard it already possessed sword intent long ago.”
“What a pity. If he hadn’t fallen ill, he would probably be at the Nascent Soul stage by now.”
The people outside the Sword Mound all assumed the heavenly phenomenon was caused by Ye Xingchen, and a clamor of discussion broke out for a time.
However, among the Elders who knew the inside story, some were waiting to watch a good show, some sneered, and others sighed with endless regret.
Rong Nianfeng knew this was something Ye Xingchen had to go through; there was no need for him to mind other people’s business.
The mist pierced through the heavy clouds, rippling out layers of golden light. Ye Xingchen looked as if he were trapped in a prison. As the light and shadows shifted, alternating between brightness and darkness, his facial features appeared sharply defined, and his crow-feather-like eyelashes drooped slightly.
His slightly clenched hand was suddenly pulled by someone, leading him deeper into the Sword Mound.
They stepped past those swords that were still humming, as well as the sympathetic, pitiful, and malicious gazes focused on them.
He heard Rong Nianfeng say, “I’ve come down with a case of red-eye disease; I just can’t stand seeing others doing well.”
After a short pause, Rong Nianfeng added dryly, “I didn’t do this because of you, by the way.”
It carried no conviction at all.
Ye Xingchen lowered his eyes, rubbed his slightly warm fingertips, and responded, “Mm.”
The two of them walked even deeper into the Sword Mound. Rong Nianfeng now found these swords unpleasant to look at no matter what: “This sword looks so sycophantic. Xie Si’an definitely won’t want it, so we don’t want it either.”
“This sword is tattered and broken, both ugly and unsightly. Don’t want it.”
“What’s so good about Xie Si’an anyway?”
As he spoke, he even kicked that sword.
The innocently injured sword remained silent. Then, it curried favor even more vigorously, flashing brightly for fear that Xie Si’an wouldn’t see it.
Rong Nianfeng paused, becoming increasingly angry at the broken sword.
Unfortunately, these swords would have no chance. In another quarter of an hour, Xie Si’an would form a bond with a sword left behind by a deceased Void Refining stage grandmaster.
Thinking of this, his mood improved quite a bit.
Seeing him happy one moment and angry the next, Ye Xingchen felt that this Dao companion of his was truly strange.
In truth, the deeper they went, the slimmer the chances of finding a good sword became. These swords loved the sun, so they naturally preferred places with light. But deep within the Sword Mound, it was pitch-black and devoid of sunlight. Because of this, most disciples would not wander too far away.
Seeing that there was no one left around, Rong Nianfeng finally stopped and lay down on a pile of swords to rest. Ye Xingchen’s body was inherently weak, so he was also somewhat tired.
Seeing that Ye Xingchen was about to grab his cosmos bag, Rong Nianfeng was so startled that he quickly sat up straight and halted his movements: “You don’t want to take out that luxurious big bed of yours, do you?”
Although Ye Xingchen did not understand what luxurious meant, he understood the word bed and immediately nodded: “Yes.”
He was tired. They had to stay in this Sword Mound for a full day before they could leave, so naturally, he needed to rest.
Rong Nianfeng countered, “No, you do not want to.”
After a barrage of persuasion, he finally managed to dissuade the person. He really did not want to lose face along with Ye Xingchen.
In reality, lying on the swords was not much better for the two of them, as it also dug into their backs. Before he had been lying down for long, the delicate and tender-skinned Ye Xingchen frowned, stood up, and sat cross-legged, insisting on taking out the luxurious big bed no matter what.
After some bargaining, Rong Nianfeng finally compromised and allowed him to take out a rocking chair instead.
Suddenly, Rong Nianfeng’s words interrupted his movements.
“Ye Xingchen, look quickly!”
He dug out a black and broken remnant sword from a pile of swords: “Did this sword not move?”
The swords around them were incredibly sycophantic, wishing they could fly straight to Xie Si’an’s side. In contrast, the sword in Rong Nianfeng’s hand was entirely different.
Ye Xingchen took a look and made a judgment: “It might just be too broken.”
Rong Nianfeng turned a deaf ear to his words, no longer disliking it at this moment: “Sword, you have caught my attention.”
Ye Xingchen was left speechless.
Rong Nianfeng spoke with plausible explanations: “This sword clearly has its own thoughts at first glance; it will not bow down for five pecks of spiritual energy! Think about it, if these swords only chose you because Xie Si’an did not choose them, wouldn’t you find it disgusting?”
“Disgusting,” Ye Xingchen agreed quite a bit.
“Alright, I will take this sword then.” As he spoke, he swiftly formed a bond with the large black sword in his hand.
Forming a bond required some time. By the time he opened his eyes again, Ye Xingchen was already fast asleep.
Rong Nianfeng propped up his head, pondering the current situation. He had originally thought Ye Xingchen was truly unable to choose a sword because of his primal yang body, but right now, Ye Xingchen had not even met Liu Li’er yet, so how could one talk about lacking primal yang?
Setting aside the purpose of letting Ye Xingchen get the Frost Sword in the future, what kind of change had actually occurred within his body? It made it so that among the swords in the Sword Mound, not a single one dared to approach him. After thinking left and right, it could only be attributed to this strange illness he suffered from.
Even in his sleep, Ye Xingchen still could not help but cough softly. Feeling uncomfortable, he wanted to turn over, but the rocking chair was still a bit too small, restricting his movements.
Rong Nianfeng shook his head, feeling genuinely afraid that the youth might cough himself to death. He still had to let Ye Xingchen and Liu Li’er come into contact. Otherwise, three years from now, if the two of them had not even interacted a few times, where would the Nine-Revolution Heaven and Earth Pill come from to cure his illness?
At noon the next day, the Sword Mound opened once more. The disciples emerged from within.
Some were showing off the swords in their hands, looking exceedingly satisfied. Others were downcast, gazing at others with faces full of envy, while senior brothers and sisters from the same peak patted their shoulders in consolation.
Naturally, discussions about yesterday’s heavenly phenomenon were also indispensable.
“Which sword did Ye Xingchen choose this time?”
“Ah? It was not him; it was Xie Si’an.”
“Xie Si’an? The new disciple accepted by Immortal Venerable Xuan Yue?”
“Yes, speaking of which, it is also strange. Ye Xingchen actually did not choose a sword.”
“How is it that he did not choose a sword?” Liu Wen, who was nearby, crossed his arms and revealed a disdainful expression. “It is clearly that no sword fancied him.”
Song Xiuyuan was furious, clenching his fists as he wanted to charge forward. The Fourth Senior Brother hurriedly grabbed him, saying in a voice that only the two of them could hear, “Tenth Junior Brother, calm down.”
If they beat someone up, then even if they were in the right, they would not be able to explain it clearly.
Song Xiuyuan said resentfully, “Previously, did he not beg Little Eleventh to teach him how to circulate his mental cultivation method? Truly shameless.”
“When Little Eleventh comes out later, you must not mention these matters.”
“Mm,” he responded with an unhappy face.
Quite a few people had not left yet, simply wanting to watch a joke. However, after waiting for a quarter of an hour, seeing that the Sword Mound was about to close, Ye Xingchen’s figure was still nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly, a dark shadow flashed past. Rong Nianfeng was unsteadily carrying Ye Xingchen on a sword, shouting toward the ground below: “Senior brothers and senior sisters, we will take our leave first!”
Everyone was stunned. How come this was somewhat different from what they had imagined?
Liu Wen’s face looked displeased. He narrowed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and said, “Go, follow them.”
A grand crowd of over a dozen people beside him summoned their swords. Unfortunately, Song Xiuyuan was no pushover either. He was also a personal disciple of Immortal Venerable Wuji, so his capabilities went without saying. He smilingly blocked the few individuals: “Where is Senior Brother Liu Wen intending to go?”
Liu Wen was exasperated: “Song Xiuyuan, I advise you to get out of the way immediately.”
Song Xiuyuan stopped smiling as well. With a slight movement of his fingertips, the sword behind him immediately flew toward the group.
Seeing that no one was following behind them, Rong Nianfeng let out a sigh of relief. The sword suddenly veered violently, giving Ye Xingchen a terrible fright: “Concentrate!”
He had simply been possessed by a ghost to agree to let Rong Nianfeng fly the sword.
After the sword stabilized, Rong Nianfeng smiled smugly: “How is it? This method of mine is not bad, right? Catching the enemy off guard with a sudden dash!”
Ye Xingchen was also in a good mood. He sat lazily on Rong Nianfeng’s large black sword: “Not bad.”
Xie Si’an had become the golden boy of the Xuantian Sword Sect. From time to time, those patriarchs in the Star Communication Hall would summon him. Many sect disciples were endlessly envious, and the personal disciples of the other Elders were even more green with envy. They had lost one Ye Xingchen, only for another Xie Si’an to appear!
Fortunately, Song Xiuyuan had beaten Liu Wen and his lackeys so badly last time that they were crying out for deities and wailing like ghosts on the ground. Seeing that they had been severely dealt with, the number of people wanting to take the opportunity to kick them while they were down decreased significantly.
With only a few days left of their studies, Rong Nianfeng finally figured out how to summon that little dark cloud. As a result, the disciples of Lingyun Peak witnessed a strange sight once again.
Rong Nianfeng was sprawled on a dark cloud, strolling back and forth. Whenever he felt displeased, he would pat the belly of that dark cloud, which would emit electricity with a loud crackle.
Liu Wen, whose injuries had just healed, was struck quite miserably, causing a commotion at the Punishment Hall several times. However, Rong Nianfeng had plenty of twisted logic, claiming that the lightning was cast by the cloud and not by him. If blame were to be placed, Liu Wen could only blame his own bad luck; otherwise, why would this lightning strike him out of everyone else?
Rong Nianfeng’s words were not without reason, and furthermore, there were no immortal laws in the sect to penalize him. To no avail, Liu Wen could only bare his bald head from the lightning strikes, grinding his teeth and swallowing his anger, suffering this unspoken grievance in silence.