Jiang Xiechen didn’t understand Wen Chiyue’s meaning at first.
When she was lost in thought, she would habitually touch the Autumn Frost Sword. As long as the blade was in her hand, it brought her a sense of peace.
It wasn’t until Wen Chiyue’s voice grew smaller, her nagging losing its strength and her tone turning as soft as a pool of water that Jiang Xiechen finally realized what the sword spirit was implying.
Seeing that she hadn’t responded for a long time, Wen Chiyue said in a panic, “I-I don’t mean that Master can’t touch the sword, it’s just… Master’s hand is so fragrant, and so soft.”
Even if Wen Chiyue had forbidden her from touching the sword, Jiang Xiechen would never have complied. This blade had accompanied her from childhood to the present, there was no reason to change a lifelong habit just because a sword spirit had suddenly manifested. It seemed this sword spirit hadn’t learned well, ignorant of the simplest common sense, yet fully versed in these flirtatious, romantic words.
Jiang Xiechen gave another casual “mm.”
Wen Chiyue took a cautious peek at Jiang Xiechen from within the sword.
Her Master was beautiful. Her long hair was like satin, dark and lustrous, contrasting against skin as white as snow. A pair of dark gold eyes, much like the woman herself, were silent and daunting, as if frost had settled in their depths. Yet, she possessed a pair of willow-leaf brows that looked obedient and tranquil, softening the murderous aura typical of a sword cultivator.
The rustling sound of rain outside the window made the room feel exceptionally quiet.
Jiang Xiechen was a woman of few words, but it shouldn’t have reached the point where she only offered a few “mm’s” over such a long period. Wen Chiyue finally realized, somewhat belatedly, that as the newly appointed sword spirit, she wasn’t very well-liked by her Master.
Back when she was just a sword, she was the treasure of her Master’s heart. Now that she had gained consciousness, she had somehow become a nuisance. Wen Chiyue couldn’t quite describe the sour feeling in her heart.
But Wen Chiyue was an optimist and didn’t lose heart. Just as she was about to speak again, a thick metallic taste filled her mouth. The words reached her lips but were swallowed back down, followed by a fit of heart-wrenching coughing.
After several coughs, she felt her body aching terribly. In moments like this, she felt an intense urge to be close to Jiang Xiechen. Wen Chiyue spoke softly, “Master, you…”
The words cut off abruptly.
Wen Chiyue suddenly realized that her pain originated from the cracks on the natal sword itself. She had originally wanted to use the pain to act a bit spoiled with Jiang Xiechen, but realizing the source, she immediately shut her mouth.
The atmosphere turned strangely awkward.
The pain in Jiang Xiechen’s own body had eased considerably. She picked up a clean cup from the table, took a sip of tea, and asked, “Hmm? Why did you stop talking?”
The little sword spirit’s constant chirping actually had a unique charm to it.
The little sword spirit, Wen Chiyue, felt a rare sense of embarrassment. She thought for a moment and asked, “Master, is your injury better? I heard those two pests outside discussing the wedding. We can’t just sit here and wait for death!”
By the end, her voice grew loud with shared indignation. Wen Chiyue even forgot her own injuries as she urged, “Shouldn’t we get out of here quickly? Master is injured and your strength is greatly reduced, what if they try to imprison you?”
Wen Chiyue grumbled, “What era is this? Still harping on ‘the command of parents and the words of a matchmaker.’ How backward! How vulgar!”
Since the little sword spirit could hear them, Jiang Xiechen naturally heard them too. The two people outside likely assumed that because her cultivation was low and she was injured, and because they were at a distance, they didn’t need to lower their voices.
Jiang Xiechen found it a bit incomprehensible. If it could be called a mutually beneficial arrangement at the start, she had already shown her intent to take Xiao Hongyu’s life. Would Xiao Hongyu really be willing to let bygones be bygones and bring a ticking time bomb like her back into his home?
Or perhaps, he had other designs.
Jiang Xiechen didn’t care to calculate so many conspiracies. She looked down at the cracks on the blade and could guess why the little sword spirit had gone quiet. Under such a powerful attack, it was possible for a natal sword to shatter completely. Even surviving by a fluke as it had, the sword spirit likely wasn’t feeling well.
She stroked the blade and said in a low voice, “Mm. Can you still move?”
Wen Chiyue froze. Then, she cheered with excitement, “I can, I can! Master can use me however you like. Don’t look at the fact that I’m cracked. I’m actually very durable! Killing ten or eight more people wouldn’t be a problem!”
Jiang Xiechen let out a low laugh.
The laughter was gone in an instant, but Wen Chiyue caught it firmly. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she asked, “Master, did you just laugh?”
Without waiting for Jiang Xiechen to answer, Wen Chiyue answered herself: “Yes, definitely. I knew it, how could Master not like such a cute sword spirit?”
Jiang Xiechen thought to herself, the two of them had known each other for less than fifteen minutes, and this little sword spirit was so unreserved she was practically baring her soul. Was this the natural affinity between a natal sword and its cultivator?
Jiang Xiechen replied, “Yes, I laughed.”
“Was it… because of me?” The little sword spirit was so excited she could hardly speak clearly.
Jiang Xiechen thought about it and left an ambiguous answer, her lips curving slightly: “Maybe.”
Wen Chiyue felt both joy and indignation. On one hand, she guessed that this “maybe” was almost certainly because of her. On the other hand, she was annoyed that Jiang Xiechen only spoke halfway, forcing her to overthink. It felt as if someone were tickling her heart with a feather, the itch was unbearable, yet the culprit looked at her with innocent eyes as if she had done nothing at all.
As it turned out, Jiang Xiechen truly didn’t have to do anything to send Wen Chiyue’s thoughts racing.
The spirit slowly let out a breath. A sword spirit doesn’t have a heart, and its five senses are linked to the blade; logically, she should be “iron-hearted.” Yet, Wen Chiyue detected an emotion within her steel-hard form.
Nervousness.
Wen Chiyue tried her best to suppress this feeling to prevent Jiang Xiechen from sensing anything. She whispered a complaint: “Cheat.”
Jiang Xiechen could no longer hear that complaint. She gathered all her mental energy and focused it on the edge of the blade. Most of her cultivation was gone and her natal sword was tattered, a formation that she usually wouldn’t spare a glance for had now become the greatest enemy blocking her path.
Jiang Xiechen steadied her mind.
In her hand, the Autumn Frost Sword slowly shed its old, weathered appearance, bursting with a brilliant light that illuminated the entire room. The cultivation overflowing around Jiang Xiechen wasn’t thick, it floated in the air like dots of starlight, flickering and drawing close to her affectionately, dancing at her fingertips.
Jiang Xiechen opened her eyes, and her dark gold pupils actually shot out rays like golden light. The center of her eyes resembled a blazing sun. Her speed did not falter due to her injuries, instead, she carried an unstoppable pressure that struck directly at the eye of the formation.
Crash!
The formation slowly shattered.
Jiang Xiechen sheathed her sword efficiently and asked softly, “How are you?”
That move had used clever leverage, a technique of borrowing force to deflect it. The Autumn Frost Sword suffered no further damage. Wen Chiyue said with starry eyes, “Master is so amazing.” Among all the sword cultivators she had seen, none were as powerful as Jiang Xiechen.
Wait, that wasn’t right. She was just an ignorant little sword spirit, where would she have seen other sword cultivators? Wen Chiyue thought to herself in confusion.
Now that the formation was destroyed, the person who set it would surely notice. Wen Chiyue said proudly, “I’m fine! Master doesn’t need to worry about me. I am the Autumn Frost Sword, your natal sword! Don’t worry, let’s get out of here before they react.”
At this, Wen Chiyue asked with concern, “But Master, are you okay?”
Jiang Xiechen said, “It’s nothing.”
Supporting herself on the table, Jiang Xiechen stood up from the stool.
The voice of the Yuehua Pavilion Master came from the doorway, questioning in a mix of shock and anger, “Jiang Xiechen? What are you doing? Do you want to die?!”
“Master, he’s a bad guy, ignore him!” Wen Chiyue huffed. Fearing Jiang Xiechen might soften her heart, she deliberately cursed, “Let’s go.”
The door was blocked, but Jiang Xiechen wasn’t worried. She dragged a chair to the window, reached for the windowsill with her slender arms, and applied slight pressure. The blue veins were clearly visible on the back of her pale hands. Jiang Xiechen bent over, propped herself on the window, and leaped down.
“Mi-Miss?” A maid sweeping fallen leaves under the tree looked at Jiang Xiechen in surprise. She looked up at the window and asked in confusion, “Miss, what are you…?”
The Yuehua Pavilion Master had kept Jiang Xiechen’s assassination attempt on Xiao Hongyu a secret.
After landing, Jiang Xiechen placed a finger to her lips, signaling “shhh.” She patted the dust off her fiery red dress and said softly, “Don’t speak.”
The maid dithered. Meeting Jiang Xiechen’s gaze, she knew the action was suspicious, yet she truly did as told and sheepishly closed her mouth.
The wedding dress was covered in fragmented decorations. Jiang Xiechen brushed it a few times, her brows knitting together, before simply using force to rip the ornaments off.
“Wait, wait, wait! Stop! ” Wen Chiyue tried to stop her in a panic. “Master, if you rip it like that, the clothes will tear open!”
As soon as the words left her mouth, there was a ripping sound. The dress, unable to bear the strain, was torn into rags.
Wen Chiyue was so worried that sweat almost broke out on her forehead, if she had one: “Master, cover up, find something to cover…”
Wen Chiyue watched in astonishment as Jiang Xiechen neatly shed the wedding dress, revealing the ink-black robes beneath. Fine gold threads traced dark patterns on the fabric, giving it an air of grandeur. Even her belt was properly tied around her waist.
It was fortunate that Jiang Xiechen was tall and slender; anyone else would have been noticed for wearing an entire extra set of clothes inside.
Jiang Xiechen said coldly, “Cover what?”
She tossed the wedding dress onto the ground. Within moments, the crimson fabric was soaked by the puddles on the earth, its former glory gone.
The Yuehua Pavilion Master, receiving no response from Jiang Xiechen, felt his heart skip a beat. He kicked the door open. Seeing the empty room, he snarled, “Men! Capture Jiang Xiechen and bring her back!”
Yuehua Pavilion was situated atop a range of mountains, the terrain was dangerous and difficult to attack or defend. Jiang Xiechen cut through the obstructing branches in front of her, panting slightly. The ground was covered in water, making every step arduous.
Wen Chiyue wished she could manifest a physical form. She said, “Master, how about we find a cave to hide in first? If this continues, your physical strength will drain too quickly.”
Jiang Xiechen’s legs grew heavier, and every step was a struggle. After hacking through the branches ahead, she suddenly spat out a large mouthful of dark, clotted blood.
Wen Chiyue cried out in horror, “Master?!”