On Zhuqu Peak, the wind always blew a bit more piercingly than elsewhere.
The bamboo leaves rubbed against each other in the wind, making a rustling sound that felt somewhat desolate.
Wu Yan (Yan) sat cross-legged on the Cold Jade Bed inside her cave dwelling. There were no visions of turbulent spiritual energy around her; even her breathing had slowed to a frequency that was almost stagnant.
She was meditating, or rather, she was trying to capture the source of the unease that troubled her mind.
It wasn’t the panic of an impending disaster, but rather an oppressive feeling, as if thorns were at her back, or as if she were being quietly shrouded by some indescribable shadow.
It was like walking through tall grass; though no snake was visible, the scent of a foul wind could already be smelled.
“Whew…”
Wu Yan (Yan) slowly opened her eyes and exhaled a breath of turbid air. Her inky pupils appeared exceptionally clear in the dim cave dwelling, yet they seemed bottomlessly deep.
Since she couldn’t calm her mind, she would stop her cultivation for now.
She opened her eyes, and there were no ripples in her dark gaze as she habitually began to check the items by her side.
In the world of cultivation, intuition was often more reliable than eyes.
There wasn’t much in her storage bag. A few bottles of low-grade medicinal pills used to stop bleeding and recover energy, a few basic Cleansing Talismans and Transmission Talismans, and ten middle-grade Spirit Stones, which were equivalent to a hundred low-grade Spirit Stones.
The Spirit Stones left over from the previous auction had mostly been used to buy medicinal ingredients for Xia Lingshuang lately.
Current her was quite literally destitute.
Finally, her gaze fell upon the long sword resting across her knees—Severing Delusion.
This sword had accompanied Wu Yan (Inner) for years, and afterward, it had accompanied her through several intense battles.
Though the blade still shimmered with a cold, piercing light, when Wu Yan (Yan)’s fingers lightly brushed over the middle of the sword’s spine, her fingertips sensitively detected a trace of microscopic roughness.
Wu Yan (Yan)’s movements froze.
She lifted the long sword and squinted to examine it closely through a beam of light filtering down from the top of the cave.
Within that water-like cold light, a crack as thin as a strand of hair was clearly visible.
It was like an ugly scar snaking through the interior of the blade. Although it hadn’t snapped yet, it had already damaged the flow of the Sword Chi.
Was it a hidden injury left from blocking the Demonic Cultivator’s attack that day? Or was it from an even earlier time, caused by overtaxing the blade’s strength while practicing on the back mountain?
The cause could no longer be determined, but the result was fatal.
For a sword cultivator, a sword was not just a weapon but an extension of their arm.
A sword with a crack was like a bone that could snap at any moment.
In a life-or-death struggle, if this sword was even a fraction of a second too slow or if it shattered outright, the price would be her life.
“Can’t hold on anymore…?”
Wu Yan (Yan) whispered to herself. Her tone was flat, showing no regret, as if she were stating a predetermined fact.
This sword, which had been by her side since she joined the sect, was ultimately unable to withstand her increasingly sharp Sword Intent, not to mention that if she encountered a strong enemy again, this crack would be a fatal weakness.
Replace the sword?
Wu Yan (Yan) silently calculated the balance of Spirit Stones in her storage bag and immediately crossed off that option.
The starting price for a halfway decent black iron sword was several times her entire net worth.
Then her only choice was to repair it.
Wu Yan (Yan) made her decision. Although a repaired sword would have sluggish spiritual energy conduction due to the impure materials, and the weight of the blade would change slightly—affecting the feel—it was the only solution for now.
As long as it could still be used for battle, it was a good sword.
She efficiently packed away all her items and then stood up, simply tying her waterfall-like long hair with a wooden hairpin.
In the mirror, the young woman’s face was cool and elegant. Her plain white sect robes were washed until they were slightly pale, yet they were smoothed without a single wrinkle.
***
Qingshan City, Tianbao Pavilion.
Wu Yan (Yan) stood at the main entrance, looking up at the three glittering gold characters of Tianbao Pavilion, her dark eyes narrowing slightly.
Even though it wasn’t her first time here, this overwhelming scent of money still made her feel a slight physiological discomfort. It wasn’t that she hated the wealthy, but rather that such noisy and extravagant environments interfered with her perception.
Wu Yan (Yan) stood before the gate and subconsciously pressed down on the storage bag at her waist.
Inside lay her entire current fortune.
“Tsk, do you plan on going in there to beg?”
A voice filled with extreme disdain and a lazy nasal tone snorted without warning deep in her mind.
Wu Yan (Yan)’s eyelashes trembled slightly, but other than that, she had no other reaction.
Immediately after, ripples appeared in her Sea of Consciousness. A phantom-like red figure appeared out of thin air, reclining lazily in the void at the edge of her vision.
In stark contrast to Wu Yan (Yan)’s current cool and plain appearance, Wu Yan (Inner) was dressed in red as bright as fire, with crimson bells tied to her bare feet. She rested her head on one hand, her eyes shimmering with an eerie red light, looking down with utter contempt as she scanned her surroundings, finally resting her gaze on Wu Yan (Yan)’s hand pressing against the storage bag.
“Back in the day, when I passed by Tianbao Pavilion, even if it were just the guard dog, I would casually reward it with a hundred High-grade Spiritual Stones.” Wu Yan (Inner) covered her mouth and yawned, her eyes filled with the utmost scorn. “A hundred and fifty low-grade Spirit Stones? What do you want to buy by going in there? Do you want to buy their shop’s broom, or the soil from the welcoming pine at the door?”
Wu Yan (Yan) looked straight ahead and calmly replied, “I need to repair my sword. I can’t afford Gengjin Essence, but Gengjin metal Powder might be enough.”
“Powder?” Wu Yan (Inner)’s voice suddenly rose, filled with thick disbelief. “You mean the waste material left over from blacksmithing? You’re using that kind of trash to repair my sword? Wu Yan, do you even want your dignity?”
“It is my sword now.”
When Wu Yan (Yan) walked into the hall, the noisy voices caused her to subconsciously furrow her brows, and the cold air around her seemed to grow a bit heavier. She was like a drop of cold water dripping into hot oil; though not conspicuous, she carried her own barrier that isolated her from the crowd.
She didn’t go to the counters filled with flashy artifacts but instead walked directly toward the corner where blacksmithing materials were sold.
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