When Mu Zhaoran heard the system announce its new task, she was so angry she laughed. Unable to hold back any longer, she demanded, “I can accept being blamed for other things, but what crime did I commit when it came to taking that sword?!”
The system replied, “In your previous life, you ignored everyone’s attempts to stop you and stubbornly went your own way, insisting on breaking the sword. The female lead had already formed a contract with the Fuyun Sword. Your act of breaking it caused her immense harm and nearly severed her path in the sword dao altogether.”
At that reminder, Mu Zhaoran finally recalled it.
She really had broken the sword.
Even if that sword refused to acknowledge her as its master, it was still the sword she had taken down herself. She had climbed the Forging Platform step by step, leaving bloody footprints behind, and forcibly pried it from the cliff wall with her own hands.
Back then, everyone had come to persuade her, telling her that the spiritual sword had already formed a bond with Ye Lizhi and recognized her as its master. From that moment on, the sword would only ever be drawn for Ye Lizhi. Even if Mu Zhaoran stubbornly kept it, it would be useless. She might as well give it to Junior Sister Ye.
There were countless fine swords stored in the Golden Palace’s Sword Repository. As long as she was willing, the instructors of the Golden Palace could immediately open the sword tower for her and allow her to enter and choose another blade that suited her heart.
Even Yun Xiaoyang, breaking with habit, personally went to her Zhuxi Pavilion to persuade her to give the sword to Ye Lizhi. He said that Her Highness already possessed many things—losing one or two would not matter—but Lizhi was different. She had so little to begin with; losing even one thing would shatter her heart.
Besides, the Fuyun Sword was unnecessary to Mu Zhaoran. If she truly wanted a sword, he was willing to draw the designs and craft a unique blade for her with his own hands.
By then, Mu Zhaoran had long been blinded by jealousy. The more they tried to persuade her, the more stubborn she became. Even Yun Xiaoyang failed to sway her.
She had kept that sword for so long after taking it from the Earth Scroll, yet it was only thanks to Ye Lizhi that she finally saw the brilliant inscription carved upon its blade and learned its name. Everyone told her not to force the issue, but she insisted on forcing it. And if she could not have it, then she would destroy it.
Mu Zhaoran chose a day of perfect weather and ordered Shuangxu, along with four sword-cultivator spirit envoys under her command, to open a sword domain. At the cost of their own cultivation, and before the eyes of all, they forcibly snapped the sword in two.
The Fuyun Sword—before it could ever carry its master to the heights of the heavens—was broken in the hands of her, the vicious supporting villainess.
Mu Zhaoran felt no regret. Even now, her resentment had yet to ease. She enunciated each word coldly, “It was the sword I took down. What is wrong with me breaking my own sword? Did I force her to form a contract with it?”
The system replied, “If you had not forcibly pried the Fuyun Sword from the Forging Platform, the female lead would have been able to take it herself when she entered the Earth Scroll.”
Mu Zhaoran let out a silent laugh. Fine. Then let her come and take it herself.
She knew exactly what the system was plotting. The Heavenly Dao Palace opened its gates to accept disciples once every ten years, and only when new disciples entered would the Earth Scroll be activated. Ye Lizhi had not entered the palace via the Yan Gold Token; she had been noticed by the Venerable Spirit a year and a half after that batch of new disciples entered and was exceptionally admitted into the inner sect.
The academy would never open the Earth Scroll for her alone. If she wanted to enter the Earth Scroll and obtain the Fuyun Sword, she would have to wait another eight years and come in with the next batch of disciples.
Eight years—by then, even the yellow daylilies would be cold.
The system fell silent for a moment and did not argue with her. In its rigid, mechanical tone, it only said, “System reminder: refusing the reform tasks issued by the system may result in your karmic debt being left unpaid. If past mistakes are not taken to heart, you will ultimately repeat the same disastrous path.”
Mu Zhaoran’s furious strides gradually slowed to a halt.
Outside the Earth Scroll, Instructor Cen had been quite worried when he saw Mu Zhaoran fall straight into the Forging Blade Gorge upon entering. Later, hearing her decisively say she would not take a natal artifact, and seeing her firm resolve to cultivate earth techniques, he finally relaxed.
Yet the smile on his face had barely lasted when he saw her pause, then reluctantly turn back.
She went back!
Instructor Cen inwardly cried out that this was bad. Anxiety crept into his heart—could it be that even this rare seedling with only earth-element talent was about to be snatched away by the Metal Palace?
The instructors of the Metal Palace sitting on the platform immediately felt countless glares shooting over from the Earth Palace side.
To be fair, the sword-cultivation instructors also felt innocent. There were simply too many people devoted to the sword dao now. Among each new intake of disciples, five or six out of ten chose sword cultivation as their main path. Before the previous batch had even graduated, the next batch had already arrived. No matter how enthusiastic the Metal Palace instructors were about teaching, they truly could not handle so many students.
Even the two disciples under the Sword Venerable had been dragged into teaching at the Metal Palace. At times, they even envied the leisure of the Earth Palace.
You Guixue sat in the last row of seats in the Metal Palace, lifting his gaze toward the image within the Earth Scroll. A trace of confusion flickered in his eyes—Mu Zhaoran had not the slightest metal-element talent and was unsuited to the path of weapons. There would be no natal artifact for her on the Forging Platform. She should have known that better than anyone.
A breeze stirred within the Earth Scroll. A swath of drifting cloud floated over, obscuring the scene in the Forging Blade Gorge. With no choice, everyone shifted their attention elsewhere to observe the other disciples.
You Guixue stared at that cloud for a moment, then lowered his lashes. His palm rested flat on the Xingtian Sword upon his knee. His fingertips brushed the hilt, drawing the blade an inch from its sheath, forcing it to emit a faint sword hum.
The Xingtian Sword had also come from that same Forging Platform, having waited on the cliff wall for a hundred years before he took it down. Among the thousands of weapons embedded in those two walls, there should have been at least a few it recognized—blades that could respond to its call.
Yet unexpectedly, the Xingtian Sword’s affinity was even worse than his own popularity. Not a single weapon on either wall responded.
After trying for a long while, You Guixue opened his eyes and stared silently at his sword.
A weak arc of lightning crackled along the blade with a snap, and with a clang, it slid back into its sheath.
It had shut itself off.
Beneath the cloud-shrouded image, within the Forging Blade Gorge—
A green gauze ribbon was wound around Zhu Qinglan’s neck. Beneath his Adam’s apple hung a plump, hollowed gilt bell. With the slightest movement, it chimed with a soft, scattered tinkle.
Mu Zhaoran tugged on the other end of the bell ribbon and flashed him a kindly smile. “Little fox, you went to great lengths to come here. I assume you intend to climb up and take a weapon, yes?”
The gentler and sweeter the Holy Maiden’s smile, the tighter the ribbon around Zhu Qinglan’s neck became.
Bound by the neck like a dog on a leash, Zhu Qinglan could not tear the tightly wrapped silk free no matter how hard he tried. Veins throbbed at his temples in fury, yet he still had to speak respectfully. “Your Highness, if you have any orders, please just say so. If there is anything I can help with, I would die a thousand times without complaint. Why resort to such threats?”
“I have something I want to discuss with you,” Mu Zhaoran said, utterly unrepentant, “but I was afraid that if the discussion went poorly, you might run off. So I thought it best to strike first. Don’t worry—if you listen to me, I won’t strangle you.”
This bell ribbon had been crafted by a Nascent-Soul elder of the Sacred Hall. With Zhu Qinglan’s abilities, there was no chance he could break free.
He seemed to realize this as well and finally gave up struggling, yielding. “Please speak, Your Highness.”
Mu Zhaoran did not waste words. “I want you to take a sword for me from the Forging Platform.”
She did not say that the sword was for Ye Lizhi. Perhaps if she had, she would not even need to threaten him—Zhu Qinglan would probably scamper up eagerly to fetch a sword for Ye Lizhi. But Mu Zhaoran much preferred seeing his reluctant, forced expression.
After all, wasn’t this fox quite devoted to Ye Lizhi? Fetching a sword for her should be something he did gladly.
Mu Zhaoran tugged the bell ribbon, the chimes ringing sharply, and asked impatiently, “Hey, did you hear me?”
Pulled by her, Zhu Qinglan staggered. He said with difficulty, “Your Highness, one person can only take a single weapon from the Forging Platform. Moreover, that is your sword. How would I even find it, let alone take it down?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. You just need to climb up and do exactly as I tell you,” Mu Zhaoran said, then dangled a tempting bait. “If you cooperate properly, I might even come up with a win-win solution.”
Zhu Qinglan pressed, “What solution?”
Mu Zhaoran put on an air of mystery. “We’ll talk after you climb up.”
In truth, Zhu Qinglan had already compromised, but he really could not stand Mu Zhaoran’s matter-of-fact way of ordering him around. He tested her, asking, “And if I refuse?”
Mu Zhaoran dragged him toward the exit. “Then let’s not waste time here. I’m an earth cultivator anyway—it’s not like I absolutely need a sword as my artifact.”
Zhu Qinglan stumbled along for two steps, then grabbed the green ribbon around his neck. The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he planted his feet and, swallowing his anger, said, “Fine. I’ll go.”
Mu Zhaoran turned back and smiled at him in approval. The smile was dazzling—her eyes curved beautifully, bright with gleaming fragments of delight. The arc of her lips carried a touch of smug cunning. In the dim gorge, she looked like a cluster of flowers blooming recklessly in the spring breeze.
Thinking of the coercion behind that smile, Zhu Qinglan could only grind his teeth.
Mu Zhaoran lifted a hand and brushed over the gold-thread embroidery on her sash. The green gauze shimmered with watery spiritual light, then vanished like ripples, leaving only a soft length draped over her arm.
Yet the constricting sensation around Zhu Qinglan’s neck remained. The golden bell still hung there.
Zhu Qinglan raised a hand and tapped the bell. “Could you at least hide this as well?”
Mu Zhaoran crossed her arms, raised her slender brows, and replied lazily, “No. A fox wearing a bell—doesn’t that look quite cute?”
Zhu Qinglan forced a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.”
Fearing that if he stayed any longer, he would lose control and commit an unforgivable offense against this exalted Holy Maiden, Zhu Qinglan clenched his folding fan until it creaked, cupped his hands in salute, and turned toward the narrow stone steps between the cliffs.
Mu Zhaoran found a rock to sit on and watched him climb the Forging Platform.
The cloud overhead drifted aside slowly, sunlight spilling down and brightening the gorge. From the moment Zhu Qinglan stepped onto the stairs, the once-silent weapons embedded in the cliff walls began to hum. Brilliant blade-light swept down from both sides, blocking his path.
Zhu Qinglan flicked open his folding fan, deflecting the blade-light as he hurried upward. Mu Zhaoran had climbed these steps in her previous life—she knew all too well how treacherous they were.
At the start, one could move quickly, and the pressure from the walls was not too great. It was only in the latter half that the true torment began.
Fortunately, this time she had run into this obedient lackey. Otherwise, if she had to climb again just to get a sword for Ye Lizhi, she would have died of anger on the spot in this gorge.
When the cloud covering the Forging Blade Gorge on the Earth Scroll dispersed, the instructors of the Metal and Earth Palaces on the platform all turned their gazes toward it. They saw Mu Zhaoran sitting at the bottom of the gorge, neither leaving nor climbing the platform, and for a moment none of them could understand what she was doing.
Within the image, blades flashed and swords gleamed. On the stone steps, Zhu Qinglan turned around, lifted his face upward, and waved his folding fan to deflect a streak of sword light. A faint glimmer of gold flashed briefly at his neck.
You Guixue’s gaze locked tightly onto Zhu Qinglan’s neck.
That bell—just moments ago—had still been hanging at Mu Zhaoran’s waist.