Chapter 28: The Sword Changes Hands

The setting sun cast long shadows across the valley, its golden light bathing the swordsman's silhouette.

Under the gaze of countless onlookers, he stood before a peerless divine sword, lips curling slightly as he raised the Gu Ying Sword in his hand. "I appreciate the offer, but I already have a sword. You may choose another master."

The Heavenly Sword circled him, occasionally brushing against the Gu Ying Sword, emitting a resonant hum—almost disdainful.

Under the Heavenly Sword's oppressive aura, the Gu Ying Sword trembled.

The king of swords—how could an ordinary spirit sword dare stand beside it?

He frowned faintly, pressing a hand to the Gu Ying Sword's hilt as if to reassure it. When his gaze returned to the Heavenly Sword, there was a trace of imperceptible sharpness in his eyes.

"Ridiculous. Under heaven, only I choose swords—how could a sword choose me?"

As if discarding trash, he flicked a finger against the Heavenly Sword's hilt. The sword shot out, embedding itself halfway into a cliff face as easily as slicing through tofu, without so much as a sound.

For an ordinary Outer Core cultivator to treat a Heavenly Sword with such contempt was beyond arrogance. The crowd erupted in condemnation.

He paid no heed, striding away without a backward glance.

Gasps arose!

A sharp, mournful hum filled the air as cracks spiderwebbed across the exposed half of the Heavenly Sword's flawless blade—a horrifying sight.

Abandoned, the sword's spirit was so ashamed it chose self-destruction rather than endure the disgrace.

The crowd was in an uproar. Never in history had a Heavenly Sword displayed such sentience. This blade was a masterpiece, the pinnacle of Divine Craftsmen Valley's forging arts—yet its pride was its downfall. A pity, a tragedy.

Hearing the commotion, he turned back, pausing at the sight. After a moment's contemplation, he approached the sword.

"Better broken jade than intact tile," he murmured. "I never expected such resolve from you."

With a sigh, he pulled the sword free. "The fault was mine, not yours. I failed you. Henceforth, your name shall be Shattered Jade."

The broken sword emitted a final, triumphant hum before shattering into a dozen fragments with a resounding crack.

He produced a large white silk cloth, carefully gathering the pieces before departing.

That retreating figure left countless spectators stunned, etching itself into their memories for a lifetime.

Shattered Jade—the second sword ever acknowledged by the Grand Swordmaster Duan Qingming. Yet he never once wielded it in battle. The Gu Ying Sword, an unremarkable blade, remained his constant companion, eventually eclipsing every Heavenly Sword in history.

In his hands, even an ordinary sword became legendary.

Emerging from these memories, Gu Pinglin couldn't help but glance at the lazy figure beside him, then recall that arrogant silhouette. His chest tightened with frustration. He closed his eyes—out of sight, out of mind.

But the man wouldn't let him be. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was wondering," Gu Pinglin opened his eyes, "if you'd abandon the Gu Ying Sword had you obtained the Heavenly Sword."

Duan Qingming, currently holding the Gu Ying Sword, smirked. "Guess."

Gu Pinglin refused to play along. "Is this sword special to you?"

Duan Qingming countered, "Do you care?"

Gu Pinglin's heart skipped a beat. He didn't deny it. "Fine swords are universally admired."

Duan Qingming tapped the blade lightly. "If you like it, I'll give it to you."

Gu Pinglin raised a brow. "How could I take what you cherish?"

Duan Qingming seemed genuinely surprised. "You really want it?"

Gu Pinglin challenged, "What, can't bear to part with it?"

Duan Qingming studied him for a long moment before laughing. "It's just a sword. Why wouldn't I part with it? If you want it, take it." To Gu Pinglin's astonishment, he extended the blade.

The sword he treasured in his past life—given away so casually?

Gu Pinglin had only meant to test him. Now, faced with the offer, he hesitated, uncertain whether to accept.

Duan Qingming tilted his head. "Well? Didn't you say you wanted it?"

That smile—warmer than spring breeze, more enchanting than blooming flowers—was nearly blinding. Gu Pinglin averted his gaze to the sword, unable to discern his intentions. Deciding to play along, he accepted it. "In that case, my thanks."

Duan Qingming suggested, "Why not try it? See how it feels."

Gu Pinglin obliged, gripping the hilt. Spirit swords typically resisted anyone but their masters, so he expected some difficulty subduing it. To his surprise, the blade slid effortlessly from its sheath.

Cold violet light glinted as the sword emerged.

Gu Pinglin narrowed his eyes, fingers gliding along the blade.

A warm crimson glow pulsed beneath his touch, radiating an almost cheerful familiarity.

He was genuinely taken aback.

"It suits you perfectly," Duan Qingming observed, his own eyes glinting with violet light.

Gu Pinglin said nothing, slowly sheathing the sword.

Regardless, this was an unexpected boon. Duan Qingming was the type to do the opposite of what he was told. Directly urging him to choose the Heavenly Sword would backfire. This approach avoided suspicion while achieving the same goal.

Gu Pinglin didn't expect to obtain the Heavenly Sword himself—only to avert its tragic fate. It deserved reverence, a chance to shine. That it would choose Duan Qingming was inevitable. In their past life, Duan Qingming had forsaken it for the Gu Ying Sword. Now, with Duan Qingming swordless, the Heavenly Sword stood a chance. Its superiority was undeniable.

Moreover, Gu Pinglin genuinely liked the Gu Ying Sword.

Yet the fact that his nemesis' beloved sword responded so warmly to him—after lifetimes of its cold steel at his throat—left him with indescribable emotions.

Guilt gnawed at him for scheming to deny the Heavenly Sword its destined master.

Did its willingness to follow him signify trust? Trust that he wouldn't disappoint where its original master had?

The thought ignited a spark in Gu Pinglin's eyes. He produced a silk cloth, meticulously polishing the scabbard before placing the sword by his bedside.

Duan Qingming seemed in high spirits, sitting up abruptly. "It's late. Rest early."

He stepped out briefly, returning with an inn attendant bearing two basins of water. They washed up, extinguished the lamp, and lay down fully clothed. The bed was narrow—Gu Pinglin took the inner side, Duan Qingming the outer, leaving little space between them.

Surprisingly, Gu Pinglin found himself more at ease than expected, his usual wariness dulled. He almost laughed at himself.

Because I understand him.

A man who was utterly untrustworthy—yet paradoxically trustworthy in his own way.

Still, this camaraderie felt unnatural. Would Duan Qingming truly gift his beloved sword so readily? Did he genuinely see Gu Pinglin as a junior brother now?

Gu Pinglin stiffened.

Had his own changed mindset influenced Duan Qingming? Without joining the strength-worshipping Dark Abyss Sect, raised instead in the harmonious Spirit Heart Sect—his experiences had diverged drastically.

A cold-blooded serpent, warmed by prolonged exposure—could it truly adopt that warmth?

Gu Pinglin stole a glance at the man beside him.

Dim light outlined a profile of perfect proportions—from the broad forehead, down the straight nose, to the lips and chin, every line fluid and striking.

He was smiling.

Gu Pinglin looked away.

"Xiao Jiu," Duan Qingming suddenly called.

Gu Pinglin ignored him.

A moment later, a warm hand patted his cheek.

Gu Pinglin caught the wrist. "Speak."

"Remember—treat it well."

Realizing he meant the sword, Gu Pinglin released him. "Naturally."

The valley coiled like a serpent, its depths ablaze with subterranean fires. A massive furnace radiated scorching heat, surrounded by stone platforms littered with tools. Racks of blades lined the walls.

At the center, upon a stone pedestal, lay the Heavenly Sword—like a proud monarch holding court.

Within a half-mile radius, crushing sword intent saturated the air. Only a handful of cultivators—each a sword prodigy—could approach.

Gu Pinglin released his own sword intent, resisting the Heavenly Sword's oppressive aura as he inched toward the pedestal. An overlooked illegitimate son, desperate to prove himself.

"Gu Pinglin?" A voice called from beside him.

Gu Pinglin turned, startled that the man remembered him.

"Turn back. You're not ready," the man said lightly before striding ahead, steps effortless.

The casual dismissal stung. Gu Pinglin clenched his jaw, forcing another step forward.

The scene shifted abruptly.

Before the sword mound housing Shattered Jade, lush grass swayed. The man glanced back, as if struggling to place him. "Ah, it's you."

"If you didn't want it, why seek it at all?"

"No reason. A whim," the man chuckled, brushing past him. "I only accompanied you to prove your inadequacy."

"Duan Qingming, you—!"

...

Gu Pinglin awoke with a start, daylight streaming through the window. He found his fists clenched tightly and instinctively checked the figure beside him.

Duan Qingming was already propped on one elbow, watching him with amusement.

"You're awake," Gu Pinglin said evenly.

Duan Qingming smirked. "Shout any louder and you'll wake the entire inn."

Had he spoken in his sleep? Gu Pinglin's pulse quickened before suspicion took hold.

Duan Qingming patted his cheek. "Your dreams are fascinating."

That smiling gaze was inscrutable.

Gu Pinglin sat up, ignoring the comment. "Time to depart."

"Mm—" Duan Qingming's hum could have been agreement—or something else entirely.

Gu Pinglin straightened his robes, pausing at the door. "These little tests of yours—are they truly necessary?"

Downstairs, Spirit Heart Sect disciples had gathered. Notably absent were yesterday's aristocratic cultivators—likely already departed.

In his past life, this sword-seeking journey had marked their first true clash as rivals, igniting Gu Pinglin's relentless pursuit. All because of that one provocation.

This time was different. Fully aware of Duan Qingming's unparalleled sword talent, Gu Pinglin set aside personal stakes, even hoping he'd obtain the Heavenly Sword.

What brilliance would it exhibit in his hands?

The thought kindled an unexpected anticipation.

Divine Craftsmen Mountain was a volcano, its summit blanketed in thick ash, barely sustaining life. Mid-slope, sparse grass patches dotted the landscape where Divine Craftsmen Valley nestled.

At the valley entrance, three massive characters—"Divine Craftsmen Valley"—stood forged from spirit iron, awe-inspiring in their grandeur.

Outside, cultivators thronged—many drawn by reputation, including numerous Inner Core experts. Sect leaders and family heads had brought disciples in droves.

Gu Pinglin immediately spotted the Duan Family head. Renowned across the cultivation world, Duan Pin cut an imposing figure—tall and broad-shouldered, with a square jaw, high forehead, thick brows, and an aquiline nose exuding authority.

Gu Pinglin had always found it odd how little Duan Qingming resembled him, favoring instead his aunt Cheng-shi's delicate features.

Beside Duan Pin stood a plainly dressed youth whose square face mirrored the patriarch's—Duan Qinghou, the Qi Family's son, his eyes alight with aristocratic pride.

The Spirit Heart Sect's arrival caused a minor stir. After a word from Duan Qinghou, Duan Pin's gaze swept toward them.

Yue Songting turned. "Qingming, your father is here. Go greet him."

Duan Qingming acquiesced with a smile, offering respectful greetings. Duan Pin asked a few paternal questions before waving him back.

A portrait of familial harmony.

As family head, could Duan Pin truly be oblivious to the Qi Family's schemes? Gu Pinglin's eyes darkened.

Then his gaze snagged on a figure, and he started.

A group of sword-bearing disciples, their sleeves embroidered with silver orchid leaves, clustered near a boulder. Among them sat a pale, sickly young master, intermittently coughing into a handkerchief.

He didn't participate in this spectacle last time. Gu Pinglin frowned.

"Li Moqing?" Duan Qingming followed his gaze. "You know him?"