Wen Chiyue looked at her own palm.
It was fair and clean, without a speck of dirt or a single callus, a stark contrast to the hand currently clasped tightly with her master’s.
Jiang Xiechen had grown up struggling through hardships. Although she had a master, that person had merely tossed her a sword manual and the Qiushuang Sword before ignoring her entirely. Even her sword techniques had been carved out by Jiang Xiechen herself, bit by bit, through sheer trial and error.
It was fortunate that by the time her master found her, she already knew how to read; otherwise, learning to recognize characters alone would have cost her immense effort. Her daily life and basic needs were also entirely her own responsibility.
Due to her grueling practice, her hands were covered in thick calluses. Jiang Xiechen’s skin was naturally delicate, and as a child, she would constantly rub her skin raw. Layers upon layers of scars eventually formed these heavy calluses.
Jiang Xiechen seemed to sense Wen Chiyue’s gaze. She didn’t try to hide, after all, even if she wanted to, the presence of the demonic energy made it impossible to pull away.
“Is it ugly?” Jiang Xiechen pursed her lips tightly. “You’re at a loss then.”
“Not at all,” Wen Chiyue countered, her voice ringing with conviction. “I’m just envious. In the storybooks, these are the traits only found on the hands of great, high-powered heroes.”
“There’s just one thing…” Wen Chiyue gripped Jiang Xiechen’s hand tighter, her back breaking into a nervous sweat.
She didn’t want to leave Jiang Xiechen with the impression that she was a coward who feared death, but she also felt that it would be a tragic waste to chop off such a beautiful hand.
And there was one more crucial point.
Wen Chiyue wondered: Does Master loathe the demon race to such an extent that even being forced to touch demonic energy makes her want to sever her own hand?
If that’s the case, should I gouge out my own eyes?
The thought was terrifying. It would be bloody, what if Master didn’t like it? Or perhaps she could find a cloth to cover them? She could say… say that her eyes couldn’t handle the light!
Wen Chiyue exhaled slowly and whispered, “If you really have to cut it, could you please not use the Qiushuang Sword? Or… or let me try one more time.”
Jiang Xiechen did not answer.
No immediate refusal meant there was hope. Wen Chiyue reflected on how the demonic energy had entered the Qiushuang Sword earlier, not only did she not feel discomfort, but she actually felt a sense of familiarity. She wondered if the same method could be used to suck the demonic energy back out.
Wen Chiyue felt a sudden surge of relief, if Jiang Xiechen could see, it would be nearly impossible to explain any of this.
Wen Chiyue blinked. “Is that okay, Master?”
Jiang Xiechen replied: “I was joking.”
“Eh?!” Wen Chiyue’s voice jumped. “Wh-what?”
Jiang Xiechen raised an eyebrow. “What? Do I look like someone who enjoys self-mutilation?”
Of course she didn’t. Wen Chiyue simply hadn’t expected that someone as laconic and stoic as her master would ever crack a joke.
She watched Jiang Xiechen’s expression. It was the exact same look she wore when she said, “Just chop it off.”
The autumn wind tossed Jiang Xiechen’s raven-black hair, revealing her exquisite features: a high bridge of the nose, red lips, white teeth, and a posture as upright as a winter bamboo. Yet her expression remained cold and indifferent, making it impossible for Wen Chiyue to tell which statement was the actual joke.
Wen Chiyue could only follow Jiang Xiechen’s lead: “Of course not!”
Jiang Xiechen asked, “How do you plan to try?” She tried to pull her hand away again, but it remained stuck.
Wen Chiyue giggled and winked at Jiang Xiechen. “It’s a secret.” Then, remembering Jiang Xiechen currently couldn’t see, she sheepishly licked the corner of her mouth.
She gathered her spiritual energy, channeling it through her meridians until it reached her palm. The energy erupted suddenly, emitting a brilliant light that momentarily suppressed the demonic energy.
Jiang Xiechen had lost her ability to perceive spiritual and demonic energy, but she could still feel the pressure on her palm lighten. It seemed the demonic energy had dissipated slightly, but in an instant, it surged back even stronger.
The spiritual energy seemed to have fed the demonic aura.
Jiang Xiechen remained silent, standing still as if she hadn’t noticed a thing.
Wen Chiyue realized this as well. Her brow furrowed deeply as she changed tactics, instead of a head-on collision, she tried guidance. Her spiritual energy merged with the demonic energy. Originally, she intended to sweep it away, but the moment her energy began to accept the demonic aura, the latter went wild, it began actively pouring into Wen Chiyue’s spiritual flow.
In the brief moment Wen Chiyue was stunned, more than half of the demonic energy was siphoned away. The patterns on the back of Jiang Xiechen’s hand flickered, as if trying to break free.
Wen Chiyue was merely a newly formed sword spirit. Even though the demonic energy was “gentle” toward her, her body could not contain such a massive influx. She violently jerked her hand back, stumbling several steps away, staring in horror at the demonic energy surrounding Jiang Xiechen.
Their hands were finally separated.
Having no more spiritual energy to latch onto, and seemingly aware that it had caused Wen Chiyue pain, the demonic energy hovered at a distance, afraid to approach. After circling a few times, it submissively shrank back into the skin on the back of Jiang Xiechen’s hand.
Wen Chiyue swallowed hard. Blood began to seep from the corners of her mouth, nose, and eyes. It was the physical toll of absorbing more demonic energy than her body could handle. Had she been a second later, the newly born sword spirit would have likely been sent straight into the cycle of reincarnation.
“Are you hurt?” Jiang Xiechen asked, smelling the scent of blood.
Wen Chiyue forced the blood back down. Ignoring her new clothes, she hurriedly wiped the stains from her face with her sleeve. A deep smear of red stained the green fabric.
Knowing she couldn’t entirely fool Jiang Xiechen, she downplayed it. “Just a minor injury, no big deal. You are the Qiushuang Sword, the life-bond sword of the famous Jiang Xiechen! How could I be taken down by such a small setback, cough, cough, cough.”
Wen Chiyue spoke too fast, and the blood in her throat caused her to double over in a coughing fit.
Jiang Xiechen took a few steps toward her. “How are you?”
“Stay back,” Wen Chiyue said, holding a hand up to stop her. “I just… spoke too fast and choked.”
In truth, as the demonic energy was slowly being digested by her spiritual energy, a warmth began to spread through her body. It actually felt quite comfortable. As expected of me, she thought, I can even absorb demonic energy. In time, the Qiushuang Sword will be a true immortal blade.
Whether Jiang Xiechen believed her or not, she simply nodded. “Fine. I smelled blood.”
“Mhm, it’s just a light wound, there’s bound to be a little blood,” Wen Chiyue scratched her head. “That demonic energy is terrifying. I was almost… almost affected by it.”
Jiang Xiechen snapped her head toward Wen Chiyue. Her vision hadn’t returned, so she couldn’t observe her, but her voice was stern. “If you are ever affected, you must tell me. I… I cannot currently sense the state of the Qiushuang Sword.”
A life-bond sword must be specifically “felt” by the wielder to check its status, but the wielder doesn’t usually have to, they are normally in constant sync. That was how Jiang Xiechen had known instantly that the sword was on the verge of shattering.
However, even with such a close bond, it requires the wielder to expend mental energy to maintain that constant connection. Most masters don’t keep it up 24/7, especially someone like Jiang Xiechen, who had just lost her cultivation and was severely injured. She should have been withdrawing her mental energy to focus on healing.
Yet, the moment Jiang Xiechen woke up, she had immediately extended her mental energy to the sword, only to find the connection severed.
Wen Chiyue knew this was because her master didn’t fully trust her yet. But Wen Chiyue was an expert at self-consolation. While there’s an element of distrust, she thought, isn’t it also a form of concern?
Wen Chiyue’s eyes curved into a smile, flashing two sweet, subtle dimples that only appeared when she was truly beaming.
“Don’t worry, Master,” Wen Chiyue patted her chest. “I’m your sword spirit! I’m not so stupid that I’d let my spiritual energy be snatched away all at once.”
Jiang Xiechen nodded.
Wen Chiyue took the opportunity to ask: “If… I mean if I really were corrupted by demonic energy, would Master abandon the cute and sensible me to look for another sword?”
“Wen Chiyue,” Jiang Xiechen said pensively.
Wen Chiyue stood up straight. “Master, I’m here!”
Though Jiang Xiechen could not see, her gaze was as sharp as a blade. Her deep black pupils seemed to reflect no light, appearing incredibly piercing.
Jiang Xiechen said, “Exterminating demons was my master’s wish. His dying wish.”
Intimidated by the intensity, Wen Chiyue looked away and whispered, “I know, but…”
She didn’t feel that Jiang Xiechen’s master was worth such self-sacrifice.
“Not even for me?” Wen Chiyue hid her hands behind her back. Fearing Jiang Xiechen might deduce too much from her question, she teased, “I’m so considerate! Can other swords be like me? Caring for Master, worrying about Master, going through fire and water for Master? I… I can do anything!”
Jiang Xiechen thought for a moment. “Anything?”
Wen Chiyue’s eyes lit up. “Yes, yes! Do you have an order for me, Master?”
“Not really,” Jiang Xiechen said slowly, her hands behind her back. “If you could truly do anything, you wouldn’t be worried about being corrupted by demonic energy.”
Wen Chiyue: “…”
Wen Chiyue sighed. “I can’t exactly control that…”
“I’m joking.” Jiang Xiechen patted Wen Chiyue’s shoulder, signaling for her to relax. “I’m a blind woman. What other sword would even look at me?”
Jiang Xiechen spoke as if she were kidding, but Wen Chiyue didn’t dare gamble on it. Her sixth sense told her that Jiang Xiechen’s first statement was the truth. If she were truly tainted by demonic energy, Jiang Xiechen would likely rather snap the Qiushuang Sword than use it again.
Wen Chiyue didn’t know if her current state counted as “tainted,” but for safety, she chose to keep it a secret. She feigned a cheerful expression and suddenly hugged Jiang Xiechen. “I knew Master cared for me the most.”
She buried her head in Jiang Xiechen’s shoulder, sniffing the scent of her skin, her voice full of longing. “Master, you are so warm.”
Unlike her own body, which was cold. The human form manifested by a sword spirit was quite different from a real person. Wen Chiyue drank in the warmth of Jiang Xiechen’s body.
Unaccustomed to such proximity, Jiang Xiechen’s brow furrowed, but in the end, she let out a helpless sigh and didn’t push Wen Chiyue away.