After the Immortal Venerable Failed to Attain Dao - Chapter 9

At the far end of the bustling market stood the Forging Pavilion.

The towering building was bustling with activity, cultivators from across the Seven Realms coming and going without end.

Inside, weapon models forged from cold iron stood all around swords, spears, hammers, axes, halberds, and more available for selection and purchase.

The Forging Pavilion specialized in crafting and trading weapons, occasionally offering some exquisitely crafted trinkets for casual amusement.

These weapons were either forged by the pavilion itself or consigned by other cultivators, all sold uniformly by the pavilion’s staff.

Shi Che passed through the haggling buyers and sellers and went straight upstairs. The building had five floors in total: the lower three were for finished goods, while the upper two were for private custom orders.

The Forging Pavilion collaborated with the Weapon Spirits of the Black Iron Mountain. Once a customer’s requirements were sorted out, the pavilion would handle the entire process. After paying the deposit, customers only needed to wait.

Upon reaching the fourth floor, Shi Che scanned the group of forgers and walked toward a young man in the corner who was feigning sleep with his eyes closed.

The youth was only thirteen or fourteen years old, with dark skin, sharp eyebrows, and his body adorned with iron ornaments. His curly black hair was casually tied into a bun atop his head.

He was the youngest forger in the entire building, yet his skills were on par with those of the more experienced forgers. However, his prices were exorbitantly high, so few sought him out for custom work.

While queues had already formed in front of the other forgers, he remained idle, having sat down to catch up on his sleep.

Shi Che placed the sword on the table in front of him and said, “Repair this sword.”

“Starting at twenty thousand, no upper limit,” the youth yawned, slowly opening his eyes as he reached for the sword on the table.

The Star Realm was abundant in resources mountains, wilderness, secluded valleys, and secret realms all offering materials for forging.

A standard custom weapon would cost only a few thousand, including the forger’s design fee and labor. Anything over ten thousand already involved exceptionally high-quality materials.

Now, for a mere sword repair, he demanded twenty thousand upfront. No wonder he spent his days idle, sitting around and sleeping.

Shi Che simply watched calmly as the youth examined the sword and asked, “For this one, is twenty thousand enough?”

The youth remained silent, his dark eyes lowered as he carefully traced every inch of the scabbard. He gripped the hilt, about to draw the sword, then suddenly released it and said to Shi Che, “You do it.”

Shi Che drew the broken sword and placed it side by side with the black scabbard in front of him.

The youth chuckled, eyeing the pitiful half-length blade. “Broken into a dagger.”

Leaning back in his chair, he looked up at Shi Che, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “It can be repaired. I’ll turn it into a dagger for you sharper and more lethal. I’ll even melt the scabbard down to make a short sheath to match this life-bound dagger of yours. How does that sound?”

To a sword cultivator, these words were nothing short of a provocation. Nearby, people had already turned to look, surprised that a forger in the building would dare speak to a customer this way.

But Shi Che showed no anger, merely smiling as he replied, “I don’t use daggers. I prefer swords.”

The youth took a slender pen-like awl from a pouch at his waist, still leaning back in his chair, and casually traced the broken edge of the sword, his mocking smile deepening.

“Swords speak, and the sword energy on them speaks too. This is clearly someone else’s life-bound sword.”

He looked at Shi Che, his dark eyes gleaming as he deliberately lowered his voice.

“You killed the sword’s owner, seized the sword, forcibly twisted it into your own fate, then used it to commit countless evils and suffered retribution. It broke during a natural disaster or calamity, didn’t it?”

Shi Che curled his lips, leaning forward to meet his gaze. The ghostly patterns on the silver mask drew closer as he whispered, “You’re exposing my secrets here aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you too?”

“Since you sought me out, you should know I’m not afraid.”

The young man wore an utterly indifferent expression as he tucked away his engraving tool. “The bloodlust on this sword is making me dizzy. I never make deals with people like you. The door’s over there feel free to leave.”

“People like me?” Shi Che slowly sheathed his sword. “Judging someone’s character based on a broken blade no wonder they say the Starry Sky Pavilion is full of deaf and blind fools. No matter how talented someone is when they enter, they only learn to count money and put on a show once they leave.”

“You!” The young man slammed the table and stood up abruptly. Noticing the other patrons looking over, he forced himself to restrain his temper, shooting Shi Che a fierce glare. “Dare to step outside with me?”

In a secluded corner outside the Forging Pavilion, the young man slipped on a black leather glove and picked up the broken sword, thrusting it toward Shi Che.

“Leaving aside the obvious lightning-strike marks on the fracture, this sword of yours is sealed with two spirits. Tell me, what kind of person can manifest two lifebound sword spirits? One is yours, what about the other? It belongs to the original sword master! Only when the sword master dies can their lifebound sword be taken by another.”

“And then there’s the overwhelming resentment clinging to it. I once restored the executioner’s blade from the Shuo Dynasty. He beheaded hundreds of people every month, all of them heinous criminals. No matter how thick the bloodlust, it carried little resentment. Why? Because they were criminals they deserved it! But this sword of yours? How many innocent lives have you taken with it to leave behind such indelible blood-resentment?”

With a flick of his wrist, the young man tossed the broken sword to the ground, then removed the glove he’d used to handle it and threw it at his feet.

He seemed utterly unafraid of angering the villain before him, only incensed that this man had slandered the Starry Sky Pavilion while dragging him into it.

“It’s true that the people of the Starry Sky Pavilion are deaf and blind, but what does that have to do with me? I, Zhao Kunyou, have always cultivated genuine skill! I haven’t taken your money, nor have I cowered or flattered you. A wicked man with a wicked sword I don’t know which deity sent that lightning, but it struck well! And you still dare to pretend to be a good person? Am I judging your character based on a single sword? I’m speaking up for the countless innocent souls who died unjustly by your blade!”

He grew more agitated as he spoke, but seeing the man standing there silently, not even picking up his sword, he couldn’t help but sneer coldly. He turned to leave, only to have someone suddenly grab the bun atop his head.

At the same time, a breathless voice came from above. “Finally found you, Brother Che. I saw this kid jumping around in front of you from afar, what are you doing? Bullying him?”

As she spoke, she gave the bun a playful squeeze, looking down curiously. “It’s quite nice to squeeze. Kid, how did you style it?”

“You…” Zhao Kunyou, seeing that this man had an accomplice, opened his mouth to curse again but paused when he caught sight of the sword at her waist.

A plain gray scabbard, a simple hilt worn smooth from years of use the sword was the most ordinary style, and even the forging materials weren’t particularly remarkable. But the sword aura.

He instinctively reached out to touch it, but Shi Che, who had picked up his own sword behind him, spoke calmly. “Xue Zhun, don’t let him touch your sword.”

Xue Zhun immediately pulled her sword away, tucking it behind her back while still holding his bun with her other hand. “Got it, Brother Che. What’s going on? Did this kid steal your sword?”

“Bah!” Zhao Kunyou yanked his bun free from her grasp and took a step back. “Who would want his filthy sword? But you.”

He glanced at the sword behind Xue Zhun, his gaze clearing considerably as he asked, “Sister, with a sword this fine, how did you end up acquainted with someone like him?”

Shi Che stepped closer, tapping the bun on the boy’s head with his scabbard. “Tell me how to repair this sword, and she’ll answer your question.”

Zhao Kunyou curled his lips into a cold smirk. “That sword of yours is ruined beyond repair. If you want it reforged into a dagger, I might reluctantly take the job.”

“How can that be!” Xue Zhun protested first, annoyed by his rudeness. “Brother Che is a sword cultivator. Even if the sword is broken, can’t it be mended with materials?”

Zhao Kunyou shot her a glance. “If it were just a simple repair, he could do it himself. What he wants is to restore it to its original state that’s simply impossible.”

“Why is it impossible?” Xue Zhun suddenly leaned down, earnestly persuading the boy. “Think harder. You have no idea how wealthy he is. Finish this job, and you can sleep in every day from now on.”

As she leaned in, Zhao Kunyou drew closer to the sword on her back.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a glint flashing in them as he turned to Shi Che. “Fine, since you’re together, I’ll make it clear for you.”

He slipped on a black glove again, drew Shi Che’s broken sword, and then naturally extended a hand toward Xue Zhun. “Sister, lend me your sword.”

Xue Zhun looked at Shi Che, silently asking if she should hand it over.

Shi Che nodded.

Zhao Kunyou held one sword in each hand, presenting them to the two. “What’s the difference between these two swords?”

Xue Zhun shook her head. “There are too many differences. You might as well ask what they have in common they’re both swords, I suppose.”

“No,” Zhao Kunyou frowned, seeing she truly didn’t understand. “The biggest difference is that one is an ordinary weapon, while the other is a life-bound sword.”

Shi Che was taken aback and looked at Xue Zhun. “You don’t have a life-bound sword yet?”

Xue Zhun was even more astonished. “You already have one?”

Shi Che lowered his gaze, lost in thought.

In her previous life, Xue Zhun had been accepted as a disciple by He Qianqiu, so her talent for swordsmanship was undeniable.

He had never inquired about Xue Zhun’s age before, but now it seemed there was only one explanation for her not having formed a life-bound sword yet.

She couldn’t be too old at least younger than Shi Li was now.

Shi Che felt a flicker of schadenfreude, eager to let Shi Li know that the wandering sword cultivator who had fought him to a draw yesterday was younger than him.

But then he felt a twinge of discomfort, realizing there was nothing to gloat about. If Shi Li was embarrassed, so was he.

He asked Xue Zhun, “How old are you?”

“Huh?” Xue Zhun thought for a moment. “I’m one hundred one hundred.”

Shi Che felt a glimmer of hope and tentatively prompted her, “One hundred ninety?”

“No, not that old!”

“Then one hundred fifty?”

“Brother Che,” Xue Zhun looked at him seriously, a hint of displeasure in her tone. “What have I done to give you the mistaken impression that I’m old?”

Shi Che smiled amiably. “Nothing. It’s just that your swordsmanship is so impressive surely you’re not just a hundred years old?”

Xue Zhun waved her hand dismissively. “Well, I’m not that young either. I’m over a hundred and ten I just suddenly couldn’t remember the exact number.”

Shi Che confirmed, “One hundred ten?”

Xue Zhun corrected him precisely. “Over one hundred ten.”

“Alright.”

Shi Che’s expression remained unchanged as he opened his spiritual sea and sent a message to the topmost spiritual light on his communication talisman: 【You’re two hundred fourteen this year.】

Shi Li: Mm.

Shi Che: 【Xue Zhun is a hundred years younger than you.】

Shi Li: Oh.

Shi Li: Who is that?

Having delivered the message, Shi Che ignored him and turned back to Zhao Kunyou, saying, “What if it’s a lifebound sword? As long as it’s a sword, there must be materials somewhere in the world that can repair it.”

Zhao Kunyou sneered, “For anyone else, a lifebound sword could be repaired after all, it’s their own sword. No matter what material is used, it can merge with the sword’s owner. But yours? Don’t you know the situation yourself? Not to mention there’s a sword spirit inside!”

He tossed the broken sword aside again, giving Shi Che a sidelong glance. “If you want to repair this sword, you’d have to find the original owner, have him forge a new lifebound sword, and then melt it down to patch yours. That’s the only material that won’t reject the sword or harm the sword spirit. Go ahead and search the heavens and the earth for him do you even remember where he’s buried? Then learn some resurrection magic, and your sword might just be fixable.”

“…”

Shi Che pondered for a moment before picking up his sword for the second time. “I understand. Thank you.”

Seeing how indifferent he was, Zhao Kunyou rolled his eyes and turned to Xue Zhun, still gripping her sword tightly. “As for your sword, sister, even if it were shattered to pieces, I could restore it to its original form.”

Xue Zhun tried to take her sword back, but he wouldn’t let go, continuing to ramble, “My name is Zhao Kunyou, and I live at the Celestial Forge Pavilion. When you forge your lifebound sword in the future, you must come to me. I can craft you a peerless weapon from start to finish, perfectly matched with your pure sword energy. I guarantee it’ll rival that Hua Jing sword from the Xuanqing Sect!”

The more he spoke, the brighter his eyes shone, as if he could already envision the fame his creation would bring across the seven realms.

“I’ve roughly calculated the person who forged Hua Jing back then only spent a million starstones. A million back then is worth at most double or triple now. I’m familiar with all the weapon spirits on the Black Iron Mountain. When the time comes, we won’t charge for the weapon spirits, just.”

Seeing him go on and on, casually making her spend a nonexistent two million starstones in advance while still refusing to let go of her sword, Xue Zhun took a deep breath, forcefully patted his bun to cut him off, and snatched her sword back. “Understood! I’ll consider it when I have the money!”

Shi Che: “You two chat. I’ll be going first.”

Xue Zhun hurried after him, not even bothering to ask the brash kid about his bun hairstyle.

Seeing her relieved expression as if she’d just escaped death, Shi Che asked, “What’s wrong? The Xuanqing Sect has plenty of opportunities. Two million starstones isn’t hard to save up. Didn’t you say you liked Hua Jing before? Aren’t you tempted?”

Xue Zhun shook her head. “I like Hua Jing not because it’s expensive. There are plenty of wealthy people in the Star Realm, but no second Hua Jing has ever appeared.”

She lowered her gaze, tightening her grip on her sword. “Besides, I’ve always believed it’s not the sword that deserves attention, but the person wielding it.”

Shi Che averted his gaze.

The Spirit Talisman flickered. Shi Li seemed to have suddenly realized something and asked, [That carefree sword cultivator traveling with you? She’s only a hundred years old?]

Shi Che: [Yes.]

Shi Li fell silent.

Feeling slightly better now that someone else was sharing his misery, Shi Che glanced to the side. Xue Zhun was walking while flipping through a book, exclaiming in amazement as she read.

He caught a glimpse of the title: How to Master Carefree Sword in Thirty Days.

Shi Che: [Guess what she’s reading.]

Shi Li ignored him.

Shi Che: [You’d never guess.]

Shi Li still ignored him.

Shi Che: [Today, I finally witnessed it there really are books like this in the world, and books like this can actually produce sword techniques like hers.]

Shi Li was finally piqued: “What is it?”

Shi Che was satisfied. He closed the spiritual register and ignored him from then on.