Chapter 6: The Ancient Necklace’s Gift

Zhang Ye moved through the tea shop, balancing a tray of hot cups with one hand while his ears filtered through conversations.

Martial artists, merchants, and travelers filled the tables, chatting in low voices. Stories of bandit raids, sect conflicts, and hidden treasures drifted through the air.

But one conversation caught his attention.

At a table near the corner, three men sat, their robes marked with the insignia of the Bai Clan. A sword clan.

Zhang Ye's fingers twitched. A sword clan. They might know something.

He walked over, placing their tea down with a polite nod. "Here's your order, honored guests."

The man in the middle, a sharp eyed warrior with a short beard, barely looked at him. "Hmph. Finally."

Zhang Ye ignored the attitude and started pouring the tea, pretending not to listen.

"…still searching for that old legend?" one of them muttered.

"The Sky Piercing Sword?" the bearded man scoffed. "Fairy tales. If such a weapon existed, the great sects would've claimed it centuries ago."

Zhang Ye's grip on the teapot tightened.

The third man, younger and more skeptical, leaned forward. "But the rumors say it's real. Some say it's not a sword but a technique. The kind that could split the heavens."

Zhang Ye kept his expression neutral, but his heart pounded.

A technique. That matched what the paper hinted at.

The bearded man snorted. "And where would such a thing be hidden? The mountains? The ancient ruins? Bah. A fool's chase."

Zhang Ye finished pouring their tea and stepped back. "Enjoy your drinks, sirs."

They barely acknowledged him.

But Zhang Ye had already gotten what he needed.

The Sky Piercing Sword wasn't just a myth. People were still looking for it.

Which meant he wasn't the only one after it.

Zhang Ye moved away from the table, his mind racing. The Sky Piercing Sword is real. Whether it was a technique or an actual weapon didn't matter what mattered was that others were looking for it too.

And if the Bai Clan was interested, so were other sects.

Xiao Lan tugged at his sleeve. "Brother, did you hear something important?"

Zhang Ye smirked. "Maybe."

Xiao Lan pouted. "You always keep secrets."

He ruffled her hair. "Not secrets. Just unfinished plans."

Madam Wu passed by, raising a brow. "You're whispering like a thief. If you have time to gossip, you have time to clean."

Zhang Ye chuckled and grabbed a cloth, wiping down a nearby table. But his thoughts were elsewhere.

His fingers brushed against the necklace beneath his robe. It had reacted earlier guiding him to the hidden text.

What else can you do?

His grip tightened around the pendant.

The moment he focused it pulsed.

His breath caught.

A strange warmth spread through his chest, like something awakening inside him. His vision blurred slightly, and for just a second.

He saw something.

A vast mountain range. Clouds swirling over jagged peaks. A ruined temple half-buried in mist. And somewhere, deep within a sword, glowing faintly against the darkness.

Then it was gone.

Zhang Ye staggered, gripping the table to steady himself.

Xiao Lan's eyes widened. "Brother? What's wrong?"

He took a slow breath, steadying his racing heart.

That was no ordinary necklace. It had just given him a vision. A glimpse of… something.

A place.

A clue.

Zhang Ye exhaled. Looks like I have a destination.

But first he needed to get stronger.

And fast.

Zhang Ye gripped the table, his breath steadying as the afterimage of the vision faded. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, but his mind was sharp.

A mountain range. A ruined temple. A glowing sword.

It wasn't just his imagination. The necklace had shown him something real.

Xiao Lan tugged his sleeve again, worry in her eyes. "Brother, are you okay?"

Zhang Ye exhaled, releasing his grip on the pendant. "Yeah. Just… a little dizzy."

She frowned but didn't push.

Madam Wu, who had been watching from behind the counter, narrowed her eyes. "Boy, if you faint on my floor, I'm docking your pay."

Zhang Ye smirked. "I'll die before I work for free."

"That's the spirit," she said dryly.

He forced himself back into motion, wiping tables, refilling tea, and listening. Always listening. But his mind was elsewhere.

That temple. That sword.

If the Sky Piercing Sword is real, then that place might be the key to finding it.

But there was a problem.

That place wherever it was looked far. He had no money, no strength, and no way of traveling safely across Murim.

I need to train first.

Zhang Ye clenched his fist. The bandits from before had proven one thing this body was weak. His past fighting experience gave him an edge, but against a real martial artist?

He'd be crushed.

As the sun dipped lower, casting golden light across the village, he made a decision.

Step one: Find a way to train martial arts.

Step two: Get stronger.

Step three: Find that temple.

His lips curled into a smirk.

Looks like my Murim journey starts now.

The tea shop quieted as evening settled over Qinghe Village. Customers trickled out, and the scent of brewed leaves faded into the crisp night air. Zhang Ye wiped down the last table, his mind set on his next step.

Martial arts. Strength. Training.

He needed a way to get stronger and fast.

But where?

He knew from listening to the tea shop gossip that Qinghe Village had no official sects or martial schools. If he wanted proper training, he'd have to leave but not yet.

His body was still weak. If he left now, he'd be no different from a beggar walking into a tiger's den.

He needed someone local. Someone who knew martial arts but wasn't tied to a sect.

A rogue cultivator. A wandering master. A retired warrior.

Zhang Ye's thoughts snapped back to Ah Liu's words from earlier.

"Master He? Good luck. That old man doesn't even let people step near his forge unless they impress him."

Zhang Ye smirked.

A blacksmith in a small village wouldn't survive just by making farming tools. If Master He was picky about who entered his forge, that meant he had secrets.

Possibly martial arts secrets.

A hidden expert, maybe? A retired warrior?

Only one way to find out.

Zhang Ye untied his apron and tossed it onto the counter. Madam Wu shot him a look. "You done already?"

He stretched. "I'll finish the rest tomorrow. Got something to check out."

She raised a brow. "Trouble?"

Zhang Ye grinned. "Opportunity."

Madam Wu chuckled. "Hah. Just don't die before payday."

Xiao Lan skipped to his side. "Brother, where are we going?"

Zhang Ye patted her head. "To meet someone interesting."

As they stepped out into the cool night air, his smirk deepened.

Master He.

If there was anyone in Qinghe Village worth learning from it was him.

The night air was crisp as Zhang Ye and Xiao Lan made their way through the village. The streets were quieter now, save for the occasional flicker of candlelight from windows and the distant murmur of voices from late-night drinkers.

The blacksmith's forge was located on the far edge of the village. Unlike the other wooden houses, it was built from stone and iron, with a sturdy tiled roof. A dull orange glow flickered through the cracks of the workshop's heavy doors, and the rhythmic sound of hammering echoed into the night.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Xiao Lan hesitated. "Brother, are you sure about this? Master He doesn't like people bothering him."

Zhang Ye smirked. "Good. That means he's worth bothering."

Xiao Lan sighed but followed as he approached the forge. Zhang Ye didn't knock. He simply pushed open the doors.

The heat hit him first. The air inside was thick with the scent of burning coal and hot metal. Sparks flew from an anvil where a broad-shouldered old man hammered a glowing red blade. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing scarred, muscular arms. His face was grizzled, with streaks of white in his hair and a thick, unimpressed scowl.

Master He barely glanced at them. "What do you want?"

Zhang Ye leaned against the doorframe. "A teacher."

The hammer paused mid-swing.

Then, with a thud, he slammed it down, embedding the unfinished blade into the anvil. He turned, rubbing his soot-covered hands together, his eyes scanning Zhang Ye slowly.

"Martial arts?"

Zhang Ye nodded. "I need to get stronger."

Master He snorted. "And why the hell would I waste my time teaching a brat like you?"

Zhang Ye grinned. "Because I'm interesting."

Silence. Then Master He laughed. A low, rough chuckle.

"You got guts, kid." His eyes narrowed. "Fine. I'll give you a test."

Zhang Ye crossed his arms. "Name it."

Master He pointed to a massive iron hammer resting against the forge wall. "Lift that. Walk to the well and back."

Zhang Ye glanced at the hammer. It looked like it weighed as much as Xiao Lan.

Xiao Lan gasped. "Brother, that's impossible!"

Zhang Ye rolled his shoulders. "Guess we'll see."

He stepped forward, grabbed the hammer's handle.

And pulled.