"Hello, Miss Yunli. As for 'legendary swords,' that's a bit of an exaggeration," Sylvester said with practiced modesty. "After all, none of the swords drawn from this shop could truly be called the strongest. Naturally, they wouldn't deserve the word 'legendary.'"
Despite his humility, he was merely speaking the truth. Yanqing's Massacre Ruler was formidable—its concept of severing all things was undeniably powerful—but the sword's conceptual energy remained limited. When faced with another Curio wielding similar power, how much of its true potential it could display was difficult to say.
And though Feixiao's four divine swords were indeed mighty, well—she had four of them. Each excelled in its own way. Even if one outshone the rest slightly, it couldn't claim absolute dominance over the others.
So, at the moment, no single sword truly deserved the title of "strongest."
But when those words reached Yunli's ears, they took on a completely different meaning.
She muttered under her breath, "How arrogant…"
No sword was the strongest? Did that mean even General Feixiao's divine blade—the one that even Emanators avoided—wasn't considered top-tier here?
Could it be that there were still countless swords of equal or greater power waiting inside these trash cans?
That kind of talk was way too bold!
If she heard that anywhere else, it would've been labeled false advertising—worthy of a commendation from the Realm-Keeping Commission's fraud department.
Yet Yunli had conducted a fifteen-minute investigation that very morning—an in-depth one, interviewing the elderly "information elders" of the Exalting Sanctum—and they all concluded that in this Curio Trash Can shop, anything could happen.
So, despite her skepticism, Yunli couldn't help but feel a growing sense of anticipation.
Sure, matching the might of an Aeon was absurd—but if she really managed to pull something like that…
Wouldn't that completely overshadow that smug Yanqing?
The memory of her defeat yesterday made Yunli grind her teeth.
Yanqing had only won so easily because of that absurdly strong Curio. Under normal circumstances, the result would've been anyone's guess!
But what truly stung wasn't just the loss—it was losing in greatswordsmanship of all things! Unforgivable!
Determined to reclaim her pride, Yunli had smashed open her piggy bank, wheedled her Grandpa Huaiyan into letting her borrow her Lunar New Year's money in advance, and finally gathered enough for six trash cans.
Heh, she thought confidently. I already found out Yanqing only spent enough for three—this time, I'll definitely outshine him!
Brimming with self-assurance, Yunli strutted to the counter and tossed down a Jade Abacus. "Shopkeeper, six cans!"
Sylvester took the abacus, scanned it, and the familiar transaction chime rang out. Gesturing toward the shelves, he said, "Wish you a pleasant draw."
"Mhm."
Nodding to his words, Yunli moved toward the display… only to freeze mid-step.
Like a curious cat, she began inspecting the rows of cans—peering, tapping on their lids, pressing an ear against the metal, as if trying to listen to what lay within. She furrowed her brow, concentrating hard, desperately searching for any difference between them.
Finally, she reached a conclusion—she wasn't good at analysis.
That realization left her both frustrated and annoyed. Her sharp eyes darted between the rows of identical cans.
Why do they all look the same? How boring!
Qingque, meanwhile, had lost all interest in the girl's antics. Staying up late gambling and getting up early had left her dazed enough to start seeing divine visions—four identical Idle Fish tiles spinning above her head.
Haha, maybe my devotion to the Path of Elation has reached enlightenment, she mused sleepily.
Unlike the half-conscious clerk, Sylvester watched Yunli's antics with quiet amusement.
He had to admit, the way she hopped and fussed around like a kitten trying to open a can of its favorite fish—only to get frustrated when the pull-tab wouldn't budge—was adorably endearing.
Though a kitten that preferred Grilled Berrypheasant Skewers was certainly rare.
At last, Yunli realized all her effort had been for nothing.
She sighed in disappointment—then a spark of determination lit up in her eyes.
No choice then. Time to use that technique.
Closing her eyes, she recalled the feeling of resonance she'd once shared with her sword, trying to awaken that same connection again—to break the trash can's seal, to ally with the sword within, and seize victory from the inside out!
Suddenly, she felt a faint, mysterious call.
"This one! It's calling to me!"
With certainty burning in her chest, Yunli snatched up the trash can farthest from her and beamed with excitement.
"Huh? What?" Qingque jumped at the sudden shout, head whipping around in confusion. When she saw nothing unusual, she sighed, remembering her duty as record keeper, and readied her notepad.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder. Could she really perceive something inside the can? Has someone actually managed to pierce the Curio's protection field?
If that were true… wouldn't the shopkeeper be at a huge loss?
But when she turned to Sylvester, she saw only amused approval in his gaze—like he was watching a child playing a very serious game.
"Come on, sword," Yunli murmured with conviction. "Let's fight side by side!"
With that declaration, she pulled the lid open in one swift motion.
Summoning her courage, she refused to flinch or look away from the flash of light—determined to see the treasure she had drawn with her own eyes.
Was that… a sword hilt?
Through the dazzling glow, she glimpsed a golden metallic grip—its aura strong enough to stir her spirit.
No mistake—it had to be a sword!
She reached in and grasped it tightly—only for the blinding light to flare, temporarily dazzling her cat-like eyes.
Qingque squeezed her eyes shut too, her mind racing in shock.
Did she actually crack the protection field?
No way! Not even top figures across the Xianzhou could do that—could this little girl have achieved it through sheer intuition? Impossible!
Yunli swung her arms upward, feeling the weapon's satisfying weight.
Perfect! Just as I hoped—a greatsword!
She raised it high, adopting the opening stance of Zhu Ming swordsmanship, eyes gleaming with triumph as she finally opened them to admire her destined blade—
—only for her gaze to crash into a round, crimson object.
Her joyful expression froze instantly.
Wait… isn't this… a Berrypheasant Skewer?
Where was the greatsword she'd been promised!?