Chapter 25: The Mysterious Man

The next morning, Yu Qi departed under the reluctant gazes of those he had come to know.

To gather information, he needed to head toward a larger, more prosperous city. He had already settled on his destination: Fenghua City. Meng Po and Zheng Zhiyue hailed from there, and given the city’s bustling nature and the countless martial arts masters it attracted, it was the ideal place to seek out news. Having lived in Ming County for two years, Yu Qi was well-acquainted with the locations of surrounding cities. Once he had determined his direction, he spurred his horse onward.

***

Endless mountain ranges stretched across the landscape, their rock faces weathered by countless years of wind and rain, covered in patches of moss. Surrounding these mountains was a vast, dense forest where trees grew so tall that even sunlight struggled to pierce the canopy.

In the depths of the night, a figure in a black robe moved swiftly through the woods. His clothes were torn by branches and adorned with stray leaves, giving him a disheveled appearance. His face was as still as a frozen pool, cold and expressionless. His eyes, fixed on the path ahead, held no emotion—he moved with the predatory focus of a ruthless beast. This was Yu Qi.

He had originally been traveling along the main road, but during a rest stop, the roar of a lion had startled his horse, causing it to bolt into the forest. He had pursued the animal but lost his way and eventually lost track of the horse as well. With no other choice, he had been forced to traverse the wilderness on foot.

Several days had passed, yet he had failed to find his way back to the road. The endless, monotonous sea of green began to grate on his nerves. After pushing forward for a while longer, exhaustion finally took hold. He stopped to rest, leaning against a thick tree branch, and drifted into a fitful sleep.

At the first light of dawn, Yu Qi awoke. After a meager meal of dry rations, he resumed his journey. Before long, he suddenly sensed a faint surge of sword intent. Even the sword hilt he carried at his waist began to vibrate slightly.

Yu Qi stopped. He drew the Demon Seed, watching as it trembled in his hand, feeling a sense of bewilderment.

"What is the source of this sudden surge of sword intent?" he muttered, gripping the hilt tightly in an attempt to suppress the vibration.

It was to no avail; his arm trembled in sync with the object. He sensed, however, that the vibration was not born of fear, but of reverence. Suddenly, the Demon Seed began to pulse violently, pulling him insistently in one specific direction.

"Where are you trying to lead me?" Yu Qi followed the pull of the hilt.

As he moved, the vibrations grew more intense, and he began to feel a powerful, invasive sword intent pressing down upon him. He continued forward until he reached a clearing. There, the Demon Seed shook so violently it nearly tore itself from his grasp.

Yu Qi scanned the clearing and spotted a man sitting cross-legged in the center. The man wore a pristine white robe. His eyes were closed, revealing a sharp, high-bridged nose and thin lips. His eyebrows, shaped like blades, swept upward into his temples, framing a face of remarkable, striking beauty.

What struck Yu Qi most was that the man’s hair and eyebrows were pure white. He seemed to be only in his early thirties, yet his hair was as pale as snow.

Yu Qi soon discovered the source of the sword intent: a white longsword plunged into the earth before the man. It appeared to be forged from crystal, entirely white, as if encased in ice, and it shimmered with a faint, fluorescent light under the sun. The ground surrounding the blade was coated in frost, and despite the midday heat, a frigid mist rose from the spot, betraying the intense cold emanating from the weapon.

The man sensed an observer. His eyes snapped open, locking onto Yu Qi with a piercing, lethal gaze. The moment their eyes met, Yu Qi felt his face drain of color. It was as if he had been struck in the heart not by a glance, but by a sharp blade.

Simultaneously, a crushing pressure descended upon him.

*Boom!*

Yu Qi was slammed to the ground, his face flushing red as he struggled to draw breath.

"With such pathetic strength, you dare to disturb me? Do you seek death?" The man’s lips parted, his voice calm and melodic, yet laced with absolute, biting cold.

Gasping for air against the suffocating weight, Yu Qi managed to choke out, "S-senior... I am... merely a junior... passing through by mistake."

Suddenly, the Demon Seed broke free from his hand, vibrating intensely. The man caught sight of the hilt, opened his palm, and the object flew toward him of its own accord. As soon as it reached his hand, the hilt grew still, as if soothed by his touch.

The man examined the hilt, a strange look flickering in his eyes. "Strange. While this blade appears shattered, it once birthed a spirit, though it perished for reasons unknown. I have never seen a sword so saturated with demonic energy."

Though the man spoke calmly, his words sent shockwaves through Yu Qi. Only he and his ancestor knew the origins of the Demon Seed—how could this stranger tell?

The man noticed the blade edge growing from the hilt and brushed it gently. "Not a broken blade, but a rebirth? Interesting, very interesting."

Yu Qi was stunned. A broken blade reborn was a secret impossible for an outsider to know, yet this man had discerned the truth at a single glance. How profound must his mastery of the sword be to see so clearly?

"Are you a practitioner of the sword?" the man asked suddenly.

"I... I am!" Yu Qi replied, his face still flushed from the immense pressure.

As soon as he answered, the crushing weight vanished instantly, and his breathing returned to normal. He let out a sigh of relief, scrambled to his feet, and bowed. "Thank you, Senior, for your mercy."

"Treat this blade well. You may go." With a flick of the man's wrist, the Demon Seed drifted back into Yu Qi’s hand.