After returning to the sect, Wu Yan originally wanted to return the untouched Storage Bag to her Master. However, no matter what she said, her Master refused to take it back, so she had no choice but to keep it for herself for the time being.
Weapon Peak, also known as Forging Peak, was the sweltering place in the entire Piaomiao Sect, aside from the Earth Fire Chamber.
Unlike the Main Peak, which was shrouded in mist, or Medicine Peak, with its fragrance of green wood, this place was perpetually enveloped in a red glow. The thunderous roar of the bellows sounded like the heavy breathing of a beast, and the rhythmic striking of countless hammers merged into a deafening symphony.
The air was thick with the scent of sulfur, coke, and sweat.
“Cough, cough…”
As soon as Wu Yan followed Mo Wentian into one of the rooms, she was choked by the pungent air inside.
The response from the inner Wu Yan was even more extreme. She jumped directly into Wu Yan’s arms, clinging tightly to her neck and burying her head against Wu Yan’s chest.
“What a dump!”
The inner Wu Yan’s voice was full of disgust. “It’s hot and stinky. It’s practically a bathhouse for the lowest-level Flame Demons! Little Wu Yan, are you sure we have to stay here? What if my skin starts to crack?”
“Endure it.”
Wu Yan’s expression remained unchanged. she simply adjusted her breathing, trying to maintain a low-frequency rhythm.
“Tch, endure, endure, endure! That’s all you know!”
The inner Wu Yan rolled her eyes and hopped down from Wu Yan’s arms, floating around with a look of annoyance. Whenever she saw a shirtless disciple passing by, she would give them a phantom kick, muttering under her breath, “Not only does it stink, but it’s an eyesore too!”
Walking in front, Mo Wentian carried his signature wine gourd, swaying as he navigated through the various forging stations. He finally stopped before an independent forging room hanging a sign that read: “No Unauthorized Entry.”
*Hiccup.* “We’re here.”
Mo Wentian gave a wine-scented belch and directly kicked the door open.
“Old Tie! Stop sleeping! I’ve brought some work for you!”
The moment the door opened, a rolling heat wave surged out.
A middle-aged, burly man with a scruffy beard and hair like a bird’s nest was slumped over a stone table piled with blueprints, snoring loudly.
Startled by the noise, he jolted awake and instinctively grabbed a large iron hammer from his side, hurling it toward the door.
“Which sightless fool dares to disturb my sleep—oh, it’s just you, you Old Drunkard.”
The burly man caught the hammer Mo Wentian had swatted back, cursing as he recognized his visitor.
“What? Is your gourd leaking again? My place isn’t a general store. I don’t have time to patch up that gourd of yours.”
“It’s not that.”
Mo Wentian stepped aside, revealing Wu Yan behind him. “Ouyang Tie, forge a sword for this girl. The materials are already prepared. You just need to provide the labor.”
“Greetings, Senior. I am Wu Yan.”
The burly man, Ouyang Tie, narrowed his eyes and sized Wu Yan up. Finally, his gaze fell on the black wooden box and the Storage Bag she held.
“Girl, take out the materials and let me see. Let’s get the unpleasantness out of the way first—if it’s just common iron, don’t blame me for ignoring this Old Drunkard’s face and throwing you out!”
Hearing this, Wu Yan placed the hilt of Severing Delusion and the black wooden box on the table.
When Ouyang Tie saw the hilt of Severing Delusion, he nearly jumped in frustration. “You girl, you brought this piece of junk to have me—”
Before he could finish, Wu Yan opened the black wooden box.
The aura of a storm instantly spilled out, immediately dispersing the sweltering heat in the air.
Ouyang Tie’s anger vanished the moment he saw the Meteor Wind Iron. He lunged forward, his face almost touching the meteorite. His hands trembled as he reached out to touch it, but he restrained himself and pulled back.
“This… goodness… this quality, these patterns, this aura.” Ouyang Tie’s voice was shaking. “I haven’t seen such pure goods in my entire life!”
He snapped his head up, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light as he stared at Wu Yan. “I’m taking this job!”
Seeing this, Mo Wentian gave a low chuckle and patted Wu Yan on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ve brought you here, and the deal is struck. You two can take your time. This old man is going to find a place to drink.”
With that, Mo Wentian slipped away without a shred of dignity, leaving Wu Yan alone to face the fanatical blacksmith.
—
What followed was the tedious preparation work.
Ouyang Tie cleaned the furnace and checked the auxiliary materials, muttering the whole time, “Damn it, it would be perfect if I had an ounce or two of Purple Gold Sand as an additive. Too bad the stock is empty.”
Ouyang Tie tossed a handful of fine coal into the furnace and spat. “It’s all the fault of that Lady Xia from Zhuqu Peak!”
Wu Yan, who was assisting by operating the bellows, paused her movements.
‘Zhuqu Peak? Lady Xia? Master?’
“Why do you say that, Senior?” Wu Yan asked nonchalantly.
Ouyang Tie seemed to be suppressing a great deal of frustration, grumbling as he pulled the bellows:
“I don’t know if she’s had a cultivation mishap lately. Even though she’s the Second-in-Command of our Piaomiao Sect, she’s been acting like a madwoman. She’s been investigating the sect’s resources and personnel movements down to the smallest detail.”
“She claims she’s ‘strictly investigating Demonic Cultivator spies’ and ‘eliminating hidden dangers.’ It’s causing a panic everywhere! Even when I send people out to buy some rare ores, they get stopped and interrogated at the mountain gate!”
Wu Yan lowered her eyes, remaining silent.
‘Demonic Cultivator spies… The demonic cultivators I encountered in the secret realm must have entered through the channels provided by those spies.’
“Well said. This old man looks like a mess, but his words aren’t half bad,” the inner Wu Yan chimed in from the side as she heard Ouyang Tie complain about Xia Lingshuang.
“Forget it, let’s not talk about that. I’m starting!”
The process of forging the sword was more difficult than Wu Yan had imagined.
The Meteor Wind Iron was, after all, a product of the Void Beyond the Heavens. Even the Earth Fire struggled to melt it. If Wu Yan hadn’t been constantly guiding the Spiritual Power from the side, the forging process would likely have stalled at the melting stage.
For two full days and two nights, Wu Yan sat by the massive furnace without closing her eyes once.
Finally, on the morning of the third day, as the first ray of sunlight pierced through the window and into the room.
“Now! Girl, your Essence Blood!”
Ouyang Tie roared, his massive hammer held high.
Wu Yan did not hesitate. With a flick of her finger, a bead of Essence Blood shot out and landed in the swirling mixture of blue and red.
*Sizzle—*
A red mist rose.
“Finish!!”
Accompanied by Ouyang Tie’s roar, the hammer fell.
*Clang—!*
A clear and rousing sword cry echoed through the room, and the surging heat waves were instantly cleared away.
A longsword floated quietly in the air.
It was not the heavy, broad sword Ouyang Tie usually crafted, but a three-foot-long sword that was narrow, thin, and possessed extremely smooth lines.
The sword’s body was a deep, dull gray, looking much like a simple fire poker. But when Wu Yan reached out and gripped that familiar hilt wrapped in black cloth…
A violent wind instantly surged. As she injected her Spiritual Power, the dull blade became transparent, resembling a cicada’s wing. The surrounding air seemed unable to withstand its sharpness, showing slight distortions.
When still, it was as heavy as a mountain; when moving, it was as light as a feather and as fast as a stream of light.
“A fine sword, truly a fine sword!”
Ouyang Tie slumped to the floor, exhausted. He looked at the blade with a gaze full of obsession. “My life is complete!”
He looked at Wu Yan and said with excitement, “Girl, give it a name.”
Wu Yan lightly stroked the nearly transparent blade, and the sword vibrated cheerfully in response. The touch against her fingertips was cold yet familiar.
She closed her eyes, involuntarily recalling the memories of the inner Wu Yan’s past life, as well as the entanglements between herself, her Master, Qingyao, and the others in this life.
Too many thoughts, too many bonds.
She took a deep breath, then slowly opened her eyes. In her dark pupils, the cold glint of the blade’s edge was reflected, clear and pure.
“Let’s call it Wu Nian.”
No stray thoughts, the sword strikes without regret.
“A good name!” Ouyang Tie nodded. “Girl, treat this sword well. It possesses a spirit.”
“I will, Senior.”
“Tch.” The inner Wu Yan floated to the sword and flicked the blade with her finger. To her surprise, the sword emitted a crisp ring, as if responding to her.
With an expression of exasperation, she said earnestly, “Wu Nian, Wu Nian. It sounds like a name from a monk’s temple, without a shred of majesty! You big idiot! Your taste is beyond saving. In my opinion, it should have been called Peerless Demon Blade or Blood Drinker—ow! Fine, fine, stop glaring! Wu Nian it is.”
Now that the sword was forged, it was time for her to return and rest properly.
—
Ten days later, when the first melodious chime of a bell rang from the Main Peak and echoed through the others, Wu Yan sheathed Wu Nian.
The moment it was sheathed, Wu Nian returned to its unremarkable dull gray appearance, and she carried it across her back.
She brushed the dust off her clothes and looked toward the Main Peak. Countless streaks of light rose from each peak, converging into a brilliant ocean of spiritual power.
“It’s time,” Wu Yan whispered to herself.
“Let’s go, Little Wu Yan.” the inner Wu Yan’s voice carried a sense of eager excitement and arrogance. “It’s time to give those people a little Demon Venerable shock!”