Chapter 8: A Famous Sword in Hand

As Gu Pinglin had expected, Yue Songting gave a brief speech, encouraging everyone to cultivate diligently. Then, the disciple in charge of etiquette recited the sect rules one by one before informing them that an entrance competition would be held in six months to determine their placements. His words also vaguely hinted that he would select one personal disciple, which excited the young men and women present.

On their first day at the Lingxin Sect, Yue Songting, understanding their eagerness, didn't impose too many arrangements. He simply had two senior disciples lead the newcomers to settle in. Each new disciple received three sets of Daoist robes and some daily necessities, all packed into a large cloth bag. As for accommodations, the male disciples were assigned to a single courtyard, with two sharing a room. The two senior disciples, following instructions, announced the rules and left, allowing the newcomers to pair up on their own—this was also a way to observe their character.

Once everyone had mostly settled, Gu Pinglin casually inquired and entered a room with an available bed. The bedding on both beds was already neatly arranged and spotless.

"Gu Xiaojiu, what a coincidence." A familiar figure lay on one of the beds, his gentle smile particularly irritating.

Gu Pinglin didn't respond and turned to leave. After walking around, he indeed found another room with an empty bed. A bag rested on the other bed, weighed down by an unremarkable dark purple sword. Gu Pinglin pressed his lips together, stepped inside, placed his cloth bag on the table, and began unpacking.

Before long, a familiar figure appeared at the door.

Gu Pinglin wasn't surprised. He set a wooden basin in the corner.

Duan Qingming leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment before smiling. "So you actually like sharing a room with me this much? I went to all that trouble for nothing."

This was his room.

Gu Pinglin continued organizing the sect-issued clothes without looking up. "I truly didn't expect you to be this bored."

"Oh?" Duan Qingming said. "Then what do you think I should be like?"

What should he be like? Gu Pinglin paused. After years of rivalry, the Duan Qingming in his memory was an arrogant, scheming, cold-blooded genius whose spring-like smile concealed utter loneliness. Back then, just to settle a bet with Gu Pinglin, he had manipulated the four great sects with ease, weakening them significantly—yet in the end, they were grateful to him, the mastermind behind it all. Apart from his rival and that woman, nothing in the world mattered to Duan Qingming. If something interested him, he would use anyone as a pawn—whether it was his sect or the Duan family.

The Duan Qingming before him was still only playing around with trivial matters. But in a few years… who could say?

Gu Pinglin pushed the thought aside. "How did you get into trouble? Was it that maid?"

"Guess?" Duan Qingming walked in and sat on his bed.

Gu Pinglin, well aware of this man's fastidiousness, was slightly surprised but didn't argue. "You orchestrated it."

"Oh?"

"She didn't kill herself."

"She did."

"You pushed her to it."

"If someone schemes against me, they should be prepared to pay the price," Duan Qingming leaned back against the headboard. "She was supposed to commit suicide to keep quiet, but people are foolishly attached to life. At the last moment, she regretted it—she didn't want to die. She even offered to testify for me. I just helped her make the decision, so my 'crime' would be confirmed."

Even though Gu Pinglin had suspected as much, hearing it confirmed still sent a chill down his spine.

He had done it on purpose.

His extraordinary intellect, his overwhelming arrogance, and his extreme emptiness made him crave thrilling excitement, even if only for a moment. How could such a person be content staying in a small place like the Duan family, entangled in mundane affairs for life?

He was tired of it. He had lost interest.

Freeing himself from his responsibilities as the heir and leaving the Duan family—that was why he had willingly "fallen into the trap." While Lady Qi had plotted against him, how could she have known he was the true mastermind? Even in their past life… without Gu Pinglin's warning, he might have gone along with it anyway.

That was why the maid had to die.

Gu Pinglin fell silent for a moment. "Since she was willing to testify for you, she must have regretted her actions. Why did you still…"

Halfway through, he met Duan Qingming's amused gaze.

Was he actually trying to reason with this monster? Gu Pinglin abruptly stopped himself. "If you didn't want to stay with the Duan family, you should have gone to the Xuanming Sect."

Duan Qingming replied lazily, "Wouldn't joining a second-rate sect like this make the Qi family even happier?"

Gu Pinglin said coolly, "You're already a disciple of this 'second-rate sect.'"

"It is a second-rate sect. What, you don't want to admit it?" Duan Qingming scoffed. "The Lingxin Sect is just a starting point for you and me, Gu Xiaojiu. The Dao is about transcending—pursuing higher realms, moving forward without hesitation. Nothing is worth lingering over or looking back on, not even our starting point. And everything about the Lingxin Sect will eventually be left behind by me."

"It guided you onto the Dao path. You should respect it."

"There are countless ways to enter the Dao. Should I respect some insignificant sect that can't even compare to the Duan family?"

With just a fraction of his talent revealed, countless major sects would fight to take him in. Gu Pinglin, deeply familiar with this man's ruthless nature, felt a flicker of killing intent. He began to doubt his initial decision—should he give up on competing and simply eliminate him before he grew stronger?

Duan Qingming stood and walked over, patting his shoulder amiably. "You can't beat me, Gu Xiaojiu. Stop thinking about useless things."

He was right. Even if Gu Pinglin had the ability to kill him now, he wouldn't murder a fellow disciple. Gu Pinglin shook his head, suppressing the urge. "If you look down on the Lingxin Sect, you're free to leave."

"No," Duan Qingming said mischievously. "What do you think about me becoming Elder Yue's personal disciple?"

Was he trying to provoke him? Gu Pinglin actually smiled. "Duan Qingming, you're truly detestable."

"Your barely restrained anger is quite delightful," Duan Qingming said leisurely. "I didn't expect you to become so attached to the Lingxin Sect after just one day. It seems you form bonds quite easily."

Gu Pinglin said bluntly, "Boring test."

Duan Qingming laughed. "Not at all. After meeting you, I realized how dull my life used to be. Strange… it feels like I've known you for a long time."

Gu Pinglin's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral. After confirming it was just an offhand remark, he relaxed slightly—he had been reborn due to his own obsession, but Duan Qingming in their past life had already thoroughly defeated him. There was no reason for him to have any lingering attachments.

Gu Pinglin subtly averted his gaze and took out a teacup, placing it on the table. "Should I say, 'I'm honored'?"

Duan Qingming said, "You're too heartless. I wrote you a letter myself, yet you had someone else reply to me."

Gu Pinglin said, "Were your intentions good?"

Duan Qingming sat across from him. "Ah, you've misunderstood me."

Gu Pinglin glanced at him.

Sure enough, the feigned sincerity vanished instantly. Duan Qingming grinned. "But you handled it well. This is much more fun—you're unbreakable, after all. I'm not interested in anyone else."

Unbreakable? Gu Pinglin kicked the table.

Duan Qingming reacted swiftly, slamming a hand down to steady it.

This outcome was expected. Gu Pinglin was still young and hadn't cultivated any true qi yet—naturally, he stood no chance. After failing to gain the upper hand, he didn't press further. He simply picked up the wooden basin and walked out.

"Are you angry now?" Duan Qingming picked up his teacup.

"Guess?" Gu Pinglin paused at the door and glanced back. "But you really are too noisy."

All the new disciples had settled in, getting along harmoniously. Some had gone out in groups to explore, while many stayed behind to clean their rooms. A well stood in the courtyard, surrounded by people fetching water—a scene eerily similar to his past life.

The only anomaly was the unexpected presence in his room.

Duan Qingming, who should have joined the Xuanming Sect, had instead entered the Lingxin Sect. How would things change because of this?

Unease flickered in Gu Pinglin's heart as he carried a basin of water back to his room.

Duan Qingming was already lying on his bed. His cloth bag was tossed carelessly by the table, his belongings still unpacked. The famed sword rested at the foot of the bed, with Duan Qingming's leg casually draped over it.

Gu Pinglin frowned and set the basin down.

Duan Qingming noticed his gaze. "What do you think of this sword?"

"A good sword," Gu Pinglin answered honestly, then frowned again.

"It's just an object. Why do you care so much?" Duan Qingming chuckled and lightly lifted his leg, sending the sword flying toward Gu Pinglin. "If you want to look, take it."

Caught off guard, Gu Pinglin sidestepped calmly and caught the sword with precision.

Duan Qingming made an approving sound. "Your reflexes are better than I expected."

"There are many things you didn't expect." Without ceremony, Gu Pinglin examined the sword in his hands, his emotions complex. In their past life, after years of rivalry, he had been intimately familiar with this legendary weapon. He never thought he'd hold it again.

The dark purple scabbard bore simple decorative patterns and an ancient-style "Duan" character. Its plain appearance gave no hint of its sharpness, the unadorned sheath even evoking a sense of warmth.

When he drew the blade, a cold light instantly filled the room.

Even though Gu Pinglin had braced himself, the glare forced him to narrow his eyes slightly.

The sword was like its owner.

The blade was also purple, though slightly lighter than the scabbard, its sharp edge identical to his memories.

Unexpectedly, within the dazzling cold light, there was also a faint, almost imperceptible warm red glow swirling within. The interplay of cold and warm hues created a mesmerizing beauty if one stared long enough.

Gu Pinglin ran two fingers along the blade.

It carried a faint warmth.

He was surprised, then amused.

As Duan Qingming had said, compared to other famous swords, this one wasn't particularly extraordinary. Its materials, though valuable, weren't rare. Back then, this sword had accompanied Duan Qingming as he rose to fame, and Gu Pinglin had never dared underestimate it. He never imagined its true nature would be like this.

A sword is nameless until its wielder gives it one.

He had been too fixated.

"So that's how it is." Gu Pinglin sighed softly, sheathing the sword. The shifting purple-red light reflected on his face, making his handsome features appear strangely enchanting.

Duan Qingming remarked idly, "What, do you like it?"

"It's not bad." Gu Pinglin steadied his emotions and slid the sword back into its scabbard.

Duan Qingming raised a brow. "Should I give it to you?"

"Give it to me?" Gu Pinglin was genuinely shocked. This had been Duan Qingming's lifelong companion in their past life—he had never replaced it. "You mean… this Gu Ying Sword?"

It was absurd.

Not only had Duan Qingming joined the Lingxin Sect, but he was also willing to casually gift away his beloved sword?

Even if Gu Pinglin found it hard to believe, Duan Qingming seemed equally surprised. "Gu Ying Sword?"

Gu Pinglin sensed something amiss. "What? Isn't it the Gu Ying Sword?"

Duan Qingming propped himself up slightly, studying him thoughtfully before suddenly smiling. "You're right. It is the Gu Ying Sword."