Lin Qingyun explained, “Because Wuyi is a soft sword, it can be wrapped around the waist and occasionally used as a belt.”
He picked up the sword and folded the blade in half to show He Zhuoming—the pitch-black blade folded effortlessly, so soft that it didn’t look like a sword at all, but rather like a piece of cloth.
Lin Qingyun even folded the soft sword three times into a short section, with the blade almost equal in length to the hilt.
He Zhuoming twitched her nose slightly, catching a scent of somewhat cool floral fragrance. She stared at the folded soft sword in Lin Qingyun’s hands, and finally, her skeptical gaze fell upon the red begonias at the hilt.
Although she had already noticed that bunch of red begonias earlier, He Zhuoming had always assumed they were fake flowers.
He Zhuoming asked, “This flower… is it real?”
Lin Qingyun smiled and said, “It’s real, oh. You can touch it.”
He Zhuoming raised her head and looked at him, “Can—can I touch it?!”
Lin Qingyun replied, “Of course you can. It’s just a sword, it won’t bite. Why wouldn’t you be able to touch it?”
Hearing this, He Zhuoming felt it made a lot of sense, so she cautiously yet with a hint of excitement stretched out her finger to touch the red begonias on the hilt.
The moment He Zhuoming’s fingertip touched the begonia flower, the soft sword suddenly transformed into a swallow, spreading its wings and fluttering—He Zhuoming screamed in fright, tumbling backward to sit hard on the ground, watching wide-eyed as the swallow fluttered and flew up, circling above their heads.
Lin Qingyun burst into laughter and snapped his fingers right in front of He Zhuoming’s eyes. He Zhuoming still had her mouth open in a daze, her eyes fixed on the swallow in the sky.
It had a black back and white belly, the feathers from its beak down to its neck were brilliantly bright red, and it was holding a bunch of red begonias in its beak.
Seeing that a single snap didn’t work, Lin Qingyun snapped his fingers four or five times in a row right in front of her, the popping sound quite noisy—He Zhuoming still didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes on the swallow as she muttered in lingering fear, “A magic trick?”
Dissatisfied, Lin Qingyun reached out and pressed down on the top of her head, forcing her eyes to look at him. “A magic trick? I don’t play low-class things like magic tricks.”
He Zhuoming slapped his hand away and said unhappily, “Why are you messing with my head again? I’m still growing, if you press down on my head I won’t grow tall!”
Lin Qingyun pouted and said unhappily, “Xiao He, you’re really impolite—I told you too, when you talk to me, you have to look at me.”
He Zhuoming retorted, “You’re the one who’s impolite! I wasn’t even talking to you just now, I was talking to myself!”
She was clearly a bit upset, her brow furrowing slightly as she stared at Lin Qingyun while speaking.
Seeing her glare at him, Lin Qingyun laughed instead—laughing even more brightly than usual, revealing his two neat rabbit teeth as he spoke in a brisk tone, “Well, how would I know? I thought you were asking me. Who else is here besides the two of us… Xiao He, from now on, don’t talk to yourself, and you won’t have this problem anymore!”
With that kind of smile and coaxing tone, he instantly dissipated a good deal of the lingering anger in He Zhuoming’s heart.
Her temper came quickly and went quickly; she didn’t grasp the subtle thorn hidden in the second half of Lin Qingyun’s words.
Her furrowed brow relaxed, and her gaze shifted away from Lin Qingyun once more, raising her head to continue watching the swallow circling in mid-air.
With a slight flick of Lin Qingyun’s index finger, the swallow dove downward, smartly folding its wings just in time to land lightly on Lin Qingyun’s knee.
He Zhuoming’s gaze followed the movement of the swallow, and a moment later she raised her head to meet Lin Qingyun’s gaze, asking curiously, “Is it really a swallow?”
Lin Qingyun let out a whistle, and the swallow hopped onto He Zhuoming’s lap—He Zhuoming let out an “Ah,” and couldn’t help tentatively closing her hands together from both sides, intending to catch this swallow.
Lin Qingyun leaned slightly toward He Zhuoming and smiled, “No need to be so careful, it won’t run away… Of course it’s a real swallow, it just can also turn into a sword.”
He Zhuoming closed her palms, her palms touching the bird’s furry, warm body.
Wuyi didn’t struggle at all. Once enclosed by He Zhuoming’s hands, it naturally leaned its head against the webbing of her open thumb and forefinger—He Zhuoming couldn’t help but gently squeeze it.
Wuyi let out a “chirp.”
He Zhuoming exclaimed, “So… so cute!”
Lin Qingyun raised an eyebrow and gave Wuyi another look, utterly baffled: What on earth is cute about it?
It’s just a bird.
He reached out, grabbed Wuyi’s head, and pulled outward—Wuyi transformed back into the soft sword, sliding coolly away from He Zhuoming’s palm and returning to Lin Qingyun’s hand.
He Zhuoming’s palm emptied out, but she kept feeling as though that furry, pleasant tactile sensation still lingered on her skin.
She raised her head and excitedly pursued the question with Lin Qingyun, “Natal swords… can natal weapons like this all turn into animals?”
Lin Qingyun replied, “Some can, some can’t. Still the same phrase: it depends on individual affinity.”
As he spoke, with a shake of his wrist, he wrapped Wuyi back around his waist like a belt.
He Zhuoming pinched her own palm and asked again, “Must it depend on fate? Is there any prop that can increase my chances of getting a little animal Dharma artifact?”
Lin Qingyun lowered his gaze to look at her—her eyes were bright, and she was leaning in very close. The unruly short hair on her forehead fluttered back and forth in the gentle night breeze, taking the shadow of her short hair along with it as it swayed across her distinct brows and eyes.
Her hair was such a mess.
He blinked, and quickly put on a friendly, harmless smile again: “You can try going to the temples of orthodox deities to burn incense and pray. There’s probably a very small probability of being favored by an orthodox deity, which would increase your luck a little bit.”
He Zhuoming: “A very small probability… just how small is it?”
Lin Qingyun casually pinched a grain of sand from the ground and placed it on the back of He Zhuoming’s hand. “Here, about this small.”
He Zhuoming: “…”
After a moment of silence, He Zhuoming patted the back of her hand and complained, “Isn’t this practically equivalent to nothing?!”
Lin Qingyun rested his chin on one hand and said with a smile, “There’s no help for it, because those famous orthodox deities have very thriving incense offerings, and tens of thousands of people make wishes to them every day. Naturally, the ones that manage to get heard become very few~ Oh well, who can blame them when their capacity is limited.”
He Zhuoming pondered to herself for a moment, then asked, “Are there any younger orthodox deities who don’t have as many incense offerings?”
Lin Qingyun answered, “The ones with few incense offerings are called attendant deities; they all follow behind orthodox deities as vassals and don’t have time to listen to your wishes—if you want to increase your chances of a successful wish, I can actually recommend some rather kind evil deities to you, oh~”
“They are very enthusiastic on duty, affectionately care about every single one of their believers, and the results come very fast. Usually, if you make a wish today, you’ll get a result the same day!”
He Zhuoming thought of the evil deity statue in the village that had been split in half, along with those strange villagers.
She shivered and hastily rejected, “I definitely don’t want that!”
She picked up the wooden sword, hugged it to her chest, and said righteously, “People who are always thinking of shortcuts can never reach the finish line. I’m going to rely on my own hard work to burn more incense for the orthodox deities! And increase the chances of my wishes succeeding!”