Chapter Sixty-Three: Chen Zhi'an's Blade Momentum!

Past the hour of midnight, the moon still hung high in the sky.

The moonlight was like silver, seemingly capable of shining upon every corner.

Xuantian Capital did not enforce a strict curfew; however, after midnight, only three city gates remained open for entry and exit.

Chen Zhi'an drank a few sips of Luofu wine, feeling his entire body grow feverish as the true essence within him surged and boiled with intense heat.

It felt much the same as the day he had consumed the blood-burning ginger fruit, filling his entire body with boundless strength.

Indeed, it truly lived up to its reputation as a fine wine praised in verse by contemporary masters.

With his sword box slung across his back, he walked through a dozen or so streets, heading straight out of the city.

Meanwhile, a visitor had arrived at the Rest-Seeker's Abode.

The visitor was an elderly man dressed in a dark purple brocade robe, upon which golden cloud patterns were faintly discernible in the moonlight. Around his waist was a wide dark belt, from which hung a warm, lustrous jade pendant—a clear mark of high status and distinction.

His features were lean and refined, and beneath his jaw grew a neatly trimmed, silvery beard, kept in meticulous order.

Had Chen Zhi'an been present, he would have recognized this old man as the very same one he had encountered by the banks of the Yellow Dragon River.

At this moment, the old man casually stepped into the Rest-Seeker's Abode. Seeing Qu Junhui busy in the inner room, he looked around the shop, casting his gaze from side to side.

Until his eyes fell upon the deer head mounted on the wall, and the winding, curving antlers.

Then he noticed that the evil blade [Supper] resting upon the antlers was gone.

The old man frowned slightly and looked around again, still finding no trace of the long saber. He turned his gaze toward the inner room just as Qu Junhui lifted the curtain and slowly walked out.

"Your Highness, past midnight, what brings you out for a stroll in my humble shop?" Qu Junhui casually set down several medicinal herbs and brewed a pot of tea.

"That Supper blade... how is it that it's gone?" asked the old man, whom Qu Junhui had addressed as Your Highness, with a deep frown.

Qu Junhui chuckled softly and said, "Yuli Ke has already arrived at Xiuba Mountain. I have already asked someone to deliver the Supper saber to him."

The old man's brow furrowed almost into a knot. "Who would dare deliver this blade?"

The smile on Qu Junhui's face faded. "Certain nobles in Xuantian Capital do not wish to see the young General Chu die. Day in and day out, they keep watch on my Eight-Li Street, waiting for me to send the blade so they can use the pretext to kill Yuli Ke.

"It is simply that I refuse to let him die. I am determined to get the Supper saber into his hands so that one day he may sever heads, cook his supper, exact his grand vengeance, and seek the fortune of transcendence."

The old man sat down at the table inside the shop, tapping his fingers lightly as if in deep thought. "You found a man willing to die? Who would risk their life for this? Or perhaps you kept him in the dark, concealing the truth and letting him deliver the blade unknowingly?"

"Am I that kind of petty villain?" Qu Junhui poured a cup of tea for the old man. "I indeed did not tell him that delivering this blade carries a massive karmic burden, one likely to provoke the wrath of many."

The old man bristled, his eyebrows shooting up. "And you say you aren't a petty villain?"

"Yet no one knows it was he who delivered the blade," Qu Junhui said, meeting the old man's inquiring gaze. "The one who went to deliver the blade today is merely a minor cultivator at the True Essence realm."

The old man's expression grew somewhat dazed. "A minor True Essence cultivator? How could a cultivator of the True Essence realm possibly lift the evil blade Supper?"

"Even if he managed to pick it up by sheer luck, the evil aura of the blade would gradually erode his body, driving him mad until he died. Qu Junhui... what kind of game are you playing?"

Qu Junhui's expression remained unchanged as he pointed toward Xiuba Mountain outside the city. "With Your Highness's cultivation, why ask me such things? Why not open your third divine eye of the Divine Aspect and see for yourself?"

The old man finished his cup of fragrant tea, stood up, and walked outside the Rest-Seeker's Abode.

He raised his head, and suddenly clouds and mist began to churn behind him, radiating hazy, ethereal qi. Within a breath's time, a divine aspect manifested in the void behind him, lowering its gaze to look down upon the world like a... heavenly deity gazing upon the mortal realm.

The divine aspect was truly majestic, standing over three zhang tall, wearing a crimson-gold helmet wreathed in roaring flames, and clad in dark armor forged with intricate patterns.

More extraordinary still, upon the center of this divine aspect's forehead grew a third vertical eye, its pupil flashing with cold radiance as if containing the universe. It was even more wondrous and formidable than the divine general aspect of Chu Muyue.

At this moment, the three-eyed divine general hung in the void, the eye between its brows slowly revolving as it looked toward Xiuba Mountain in the distance!

A beam of ethereal spiritual light shone forth.

Through it, he saw a youth with a sword box on his back who had already left Xuantian Capital and was walking along the path leading to Xiuba Mountain.

Though the sword box appeared ordinary, the old man knew that the Supper long saber within it was undoubtedly radiating bone-chilling evil qi, an aura currently devouring the youth's physical body, vital gates, and true essence.

"This youth... looks rather familiar."

The old man frowned and looked closer, only to realize that this youth in blue robes was none other than the young man he had met by the banks of the Yellow Dragon River.

"This youth is merely at the True Essence condensation realm. How could he possibly lift the evil blade Supper?"

Though the evil blade was not heavy, it possessed a spirit of its own. Without the cultivation of the Flawless Jade or Innate realms, even someone at the Divine Emanation realm would likely find it impossible to lift.

To force it up would only result in self-inflicted harm.

Yet this youth at the True Essence realm, burdened with the sword box, was walking with steady steps as he ascended Xiuba Mountain!

"It seems this youth possesses some talent in the saber dao, enough to make the evil blade Supper willingly rest within the sword box on his back."

The old man could not help but praise aloud.

By the Yellow Dragon River, Chen Zhi'an's eloquent discourse had already drawn his attention, leaving a deep impression.

That this youth had managed to pick up the Supper long saber today truly surprised him.

Yet the surprise on the old man's face quickly vanished, replaced by worry.

"Carrying a blade out of the city at the True Essence realm, coupled with the [Sword Box] being a mystic treasure of the Taoist sect, along with the glamour spell you placed upon it, no one will raise suspicions, and indeed there is no immediate danger."

"However, with such talent in the saber dao, if he is eroded by the evil qi, wouldn't a fine talent be ruined?"

The old man could not help glancing at Qu Junhui, who was leaning against the door frame, his eyes filled with reproach.

Qu Junhui merely laughed heartily. "Your Highness, look closer."

"Hmm?" The third heavenly eye atop the heavenly general's divine aspect blazed with even more brilliant radiance.

Then he saw that Chen Zhi'an's body was continuously radiating layers upon layers of... saber momentum!

This [Saber Momentum] was like rolling waves, overlapping and continuous without end.

It sounded like the thundering charge of ten thousand horses and a thousand armies, a chilling murderous intent marching northward, breaking through eight cities in succession and kicking up a howling gale!

The old man's pupils constricted!

"Saber momentum?"

"He is merely at the True Essence condensation realm, yet he has already mastered a profound art to perfection and comprehended a continuous saber momentum?"

He suddenly recalled the scene by the Yellow Dragon River where Chen Zhi'an stood gazing down at the rolling, surging waters.

"This saber momentum is like a great river overflowing the heavens, and like an army charging across the dusty plains. What kind of saber technique does he practice to comprehend the murderous intent of ten thousand armies from the waves of a great river?"

"With this saber momentum, and the ability to lift Supper, he is indeed the only candidate for delivering the blade. The evil blade Supper will not harm him."

The old man let out a sigh of relief.

Qu Junhui still smiled at him. "There are no shortage of aristocratic scions at the True Essence realm who practice profound arts, or even top-tier profound arts. But those who practice a third-tier profound art to perfection and comprehend saber momentum are exceedingly rare.

"Look, Yuli Ke has his own destiny, finding someone so perfectly suited to deliver the blade for him."

The old man, however, was thinking further ahead. "What is this youth's background? His innate talent is formidable, falling no short of those young heroes at the top of the Crouching Tiger Monument. In another half-year, it will be time to update the Crouching Tiger Monument, and the name Chen Zhi'an will undoubtedly be on it! I just wonder what his family lineage and background are, and where he will rank on the monument?"

---

Xiuba Mountain rolled and undulated, resembling a winding, coiled giant dragon lying across the earth. Its main peak soared into the clouds, remaining half-hidden behind veils of mist even under the bright moonlight.

The reason this mountain earned the name Xiuba (Outstanding Hegemon) seemed related to a treasured saber, though the scenery of Xiuba Mountain was renowned throughout the world.

At the very foot of the mountain, clear springs gurgled forth, their splashing droplets as crystal-clear as the passage of time.

Higher up the mountain, towering peaks stood in array, some as precipitous as sharp swords piercing the firmament, as if striving to test their height against the heavens themselves.

This was Chen Zhi'an's first time visiting Xiuba Mountain. As he reached the foot of the mountain, he felt the evil blade Supper in the sword box on his back grow increasingly fervent. The aura emanating from it clashed rhythmically with his Eight Capitals Northward saber momentum, seemingly pointing the way forward for him.

Following the aura flowing from the Supper long saber, Chen Zhi'an walked into the mountain forest, and along a rugged woodland path, he arrived at a place shrouded in clouds and mist.

Beyond the swirling mists stood an old temple.

The temple was dilapidated, and the mountain wind whistling through the trees even produced creaking sounds, lending it an eerie atmosphere.

Chen Zhi'an arrived before the temple and paused to think. He unstrapped the sword box from his back and drew the [Supper] long saber from within.

Wielding the long saber in his hand now, [Supper] seemed to possess far more vitality than it had inside the Rest-Seeker's Abode.

After a moment of thought, Chen Zhi'an slowly drew the blade from its scabbard.

The mysterious aura upon the blade continued to flow wildly, flashing incessantly.

Within Chen Zhi'an himself, a singular [Momentum] intertwined with his true essence, rising and falling in waves.

"Coming here to deliver the blade has allowed me to fully master this saber momentum of [Eight Capitals Northward]."

Chen Zhi'an let out a long breath and stroked the blade once more. "Farewell."

He whispered softly, thrusting Supper into the earth, leaning its scabbard against the blade.

Then he stood up and slowly retreated until he once again passed through the clouds and mist.

The dilapidated temple stood indistinctly behind the mist. Chen Zhi'an raised his eyes and saw a figure emerge from the temple.

The person's features were also obscured by the mist, making them difficult to discern clearly. The figure walked slowly toward the Supper long saber.

Reaching out a hand...

Drawing the blade!

Like a roaring gale, a violent wind swept forth from the moment the blade was drawn, blowing away all the clouds and mist.

Chen Zhi'an looked up and saw a figure wearing a ghostly mask and tattered armor had already sheathed [Supper] and hung it at their waist.

The armor evidently did not belong to them, as it was a poor fit.

Having buckled the blade in place, the figure looked toward Chen Zhi'an from afar, then... placed a hand on the scabbard and bowed deeply to Chen Zhi'an.

Chen Zhi'an took a deep breath and turned to descend the mountain.

After taking a few steps, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He turned his head back as he spoke, "Might I ask, Senior, why is this blade called... [Supper]?"

By the time Chen Zhi'an finished, his voice had grown too faint to be heard.

Because when he turned his head back, he discovered that before the dilapidated temple, there was no longer any sign of a person.

Receiving no answer, Chen Zhi'an felt a pang of regret. He shook his head and continued on his way.

Yet as he took another step, a hoarse, indistinct voice drifted to him on the wind.

"I once returned home, having prepared a warm supper, but knew not whom to call to eat it."

"So I overturned the supper and forged a blade using a neighbor's kitchen knife, and so I called it... [Supper]."

Chen Zhi'an nodded and continued down the mountain.

"A supper is cooked in a trice, but for whom was it prepared?"

Traveling thousands of miles and fighting his way to the capital time and again, he imagined the intent was simply to invite someone to partake of this supper.

He began to understand the depth of this person's hatred.

---

The old man had already departed, but he had sent someone to deliver two exceptionally rare and precious medicinal herbs.

Qu Junhui took the herbs, walked into the inner room, and dug out a pill cauldron that had not been used in a long time.

He stretched his limbs and muttered to himself, "The Reeds Mirage Mountain hermit refined a precious pill for her female disciple, enabling her to enter the Divine Emanation realm in seventeen days."

"My pill-refining skills are naturally inferior to the Reeds Mirage Mountain hermit's, and his medicinal ingredients are naturally more precious... But this Chen Zhi'an possesses extraordinary innate talent, along with such rare acquired qi, coupled with His Highness's Scenery-Mystery Herb and Perception Worm..."

"If I refine the pill, enabling Chen Zhi'an to enter the Divine Emanation realm in thirty days, and even advance further within that realm, it will not be difficult!"