Zhao Xunan's pupils shrank abruptly, a vague sense of premonition stirring in his chest. This unseen treasure blade—could it be fated to him?
"Master, for a ten-tael deal, might you craft a scabbard to match?" he asked, returning to the shop.
Sun Shice, beaming, waved the just-acquired Su'e (Moonblade) in the air, clearly delighted. "A scabbard is only proper—but payment first, sir."
The old blacksmith chuckled. Sun Shice fumbled in his robes, his expression darkening. "My purse… where is it?!"
Zhao Xunan bit back a laugh at Sun Shice's flustered search. This is the legendary Three Peaks True Lord? Such a scatterbrain?
"No rush, sir. Leave the blade with me—I'll safeguard it. But you'll need to fetch the silver later," the old smith offered.
Sun Shice brightened, but his face fell again. "I'm off to Western Liang with a merchant caravan tomorrow. I'll be gone a year or two!"
The old smith scratched his head. "Borrow from a colleague? Merchants travel in groups—you must know someone."
Sun Shice winced. "I'm a straightforward man. Traded with hundreds over the years, but… no close friends. Just… acquaintances."
The old smith's smile froze. Zhao Xunan massaged his temples. A legend with no close companions? The idol's image crumbles.
He sighed, motioning Zhao Ping'er forward. "Master, Sun and I are fated. Let me cover the ten taels for Su'e."
"Generous sir!" The old smith accepted the ingots, thumbing up.
"Bless you, young master!" Sun Shice bowed deeply, nearly knocking his head on his knees. Zhao Xunan steadied him. "Sun, you travel the world—mind your wits. Lose a blade today, lose your life tomorrow if you're careless."
Sun Shice nodded, chagrined.
The old smith handed Su'e to Sun Shice, along with a large whetstone. "Su'e has no edge—grind it yourself. When its edge shines, its spirit will reveal."
Zhao Xunan watched, thoughtful. A mortal-made blade with such aura?
Sun Shice slung Su'e at his waist, bowing again. "Gentlemen, we'll meet again—let's drink then!"
Zhao Xunan returned the bow, watching Sun Shice stride away. A decent send-off.
"Master Zhao, Miss Ping'er—follow me," the old smith said, closing the shop. He led them to a side room. Zhao Xunan exchanged a glance with Zhao Ping'er—private storage? This Celestial Gnomon must be extraordinary.
The room was dim; the old smith opened a small window, letting in faint light. In the center stood a black, narrow chest. He opened it, revealing a straight blade in a sandalwood scabbard.
"Two hundred taels—no haggling," the old smith said.
Zhao Xunan's lips twitched. Such ceremony for a blade… then this?
His fingers brushed the hilt—heat radiated, like gripping a newly forged sword fresh from boiling water.
"As I thought—Tiangui suits you better than Su'e," the old smith said, nodding.
"Master, why is it so hot?" Zhao Xunan asked, his pulse quickening. The blade felt familiar, like a lost limb returned.
"Tiangui is four feet three inches long, with a broad blade. Its spirit is pure yang, the opposite of Su'e's. To an unconnected hand, it feels heavy. To a fated one…" The old smith trailed off as Zhao Xunan drew the blade.
A blinding light erupted, flooding the dim room like midday sun. Zhao Xunan squinted, shielding his eyes. The old smith stared, his expression shifting from shock to awe. This… this is no mortal creation. The "anomaly" has arrived.
"Master, sheath it—it's burning!" Zhao Ping'er yelped, her skin stinging from the heat.
Zhao Xunan resheathed the blade, now cool to the touch. He stroked the black scabbard, grinning. "A treasure indeed."
Later, back in their rented courtyard, Zhao Ping'er was still reeling. "Master, that white-bearded man—he's an immortal?"
"Not exactly. A cultivator who's walked the path to divinity, but not yet ascended."
"Then you're…?"
"I'm just a cultivator too. Millions walk the path, but few reach heaven. Like scholars—countless, but sages are rare."
Zhao Xunan paused, then crossed out "Su'e" in his notes.
Days passed; he buried himself in study. Autumn exams loomed, and even he felt the pressure.
But the jade slip from TongShan Temple had changed—its milky white surface now flushed red, deepening daily.
Something's wrong.
He decided to visit TongShanTemple early.
"Master, you're neglecting your studies!" Zhao Ping'er fretted, though her worry masked pride. After all, the scholars who came to ask Zhao Xunan for help often left exhausted, while he lounged, flipping books.
"We can't study like robots," Zhao Xunan said, waving a fan. "Autumn's a time for beauty—missing it would be a shame."
"Where are we going? And what about supplies?"
"TongShan Temple."
Zhao Ping'er's face lit up. "To see the Old Celestial Master?!"
At his nod, she squealed. The Old Celestial Master—General Bai Zhan Sheng, legendary general of Great Qin, later a Taoist sage. His tales filled teahouses: leading armies to quell rebellions, slaying demons in the capital's flower fiend crisis. Even the Dao Palace revered him, calling him "the strongest under heaven."
"Rumors say he's beyond realms—he's the Heavenly Dao made flesh," Zhao Xunan mused.
The journey took two days. By noon, they reached TongShan's base.
"It's so short!" Zhao Ping'er scoffed, eyeing the ten-foot hill.
"Appearances deceive. TongShan's name holds meaning," Zhao Xunan said, leading her up the mossy path.
Halfway, they reached TongShan Temple—a humble gate, weathered wood, overgrown with trees ablaze in autumn red.
A sleepy young acolyte answered their knock. "The Old Master doesn't see mortals. Leave!"
"But we have an introduction from the Opening Joy Festival!" Zhao Xunan called.
The door slammed open. "Show respect—come in!" the acolyte grumbled, leading them in.
Behind him stood an aged Taoist, scarred but kind-faced.
"Zhao Xunan of Qingliang Prefecture, here to pay respects," Zhao Xunan bowed.
"Sit," the Old Master said, gesturing to a stone table. Zhao Ping'er blurted first: "You're the Old Celestial Master? Where's your magic sword? The legends say you carry a thousand-jin blade!"
The Old Master chuckled. "Natural simplicity, child. No need for props."
Zhao Xunan handed over the red jade slip. The Old Master's smile faded as he studied it. Finally, he asked, "After decades of seeing such slips… have you found answers?"