Chapter Seven: Gathering Spiritual Light, Forging Sword Qi

After the snow, the sky finally cleared.

Sunlight pierced through the lingering clouds, transforming into radiant beams like sudden flashes of sword light, each slashing out countless strands of sword energy.

Yu Sujue rolled over, awakening slowly. As his eyes fluttered open, he saw Xu Zhong holding the Xuan Guang Sword, gathering the dawn's glow.

Light continuously condensed upon the sword’s blade, eventually transforming into sword energy, coalescing into a blade of luminous sword light.

Only when the rays faded did Xu Zhong finish his practice.

“The art of swordsmanship is truly mysterious,” he mused. “Before experiencing it, I believed sword energy arose from the sword itself. Who would have imagined it is drawn from the very world?”

Sword energy is cultivated through secret arts; it is a spiritual essence born alongside the sword, harmonizing with a practitioner’s vitality, spirit, and mind.

Much like the origins of spells, sword energy was first gathered from the world by sword cultivators. Some gather the rays of dawn, forging sword energy as resplendent as rainbows; some draw from great rivers, their sword energies flowing like mighty streams; others harness starlight, their sword energies shimmering like the stars themselves.

What distinguishes true sword cultivators from mere sword-wielding adepts is their ability to draw spiritual light from the world, refining it into sword energy.

Within Xu Zhong’s body, a mark of the Sword Dao remained—layered sword technique, rooted in the method of gathering energy to refine the sword.

As Xu Zhong attuned himself to the mark, he naturally inherited the art of gathering and refining sword energy.

Unlike Situ Nan, who drew starlight for his sword, Xu Zhong gathered the light of dawn.

His sword energy was abundant, able to transform into sword light.

A single blade of sword light could be composed of several, even hundreds or thousands, of strands of sword energy.

Thus came the tales of sword cultivators releasing a white flash—silent, unseen, deadly.

Xu Zhong sheathed his sword, the last gleam vanishing into the scabbard. Rising, he brushed away the morning frost from his shoulders.

Yu Sujue leaped onto his shoulder, gazing into the distance.

On the horizon, a faint black line appeared—the outer city wall of Di County.

Di County, the seat of Yangshuo Commandery, was the region’s hub of information and trade.

Xu Zhong formed a hand seal and began to walk. With each step, he caught the wind, riding its currents along his journey.

When the wind died, he alighted. Once the breeze returned, he stepped back onto its crest.

This was a technique called Borrowing the Wind, allowing one to manipulate air currents. Xu Zhong’s cultivation was insufficient to wield the full power—if he were stronger, he could calm mountains or sweep away cities with the winds he borrowed.

Traveling in such fits and starts, he soon arrived before Di County’s gates.

The city was under martial law—no one allowed in, only out. The guard was tight: three squads totaling sixty men, patrolling in rotation, each radiating fierce energy—the look of seasoned soldiers.

In a secluded spot, Xu Zhong cast an invisibility spell and, catching a breeze, slipped seamlessly into Di County.

The streets bustled with people, each with a different purpose—some shopping for food, others carrying heavy parcels toward the outer city.

“It seems news has already spread,” Yu Sujue whispered, lowering her voice to avoid being overheard and mistaken for a malevolent fox spirit.

“Indeed,” Xu Zhong nodded quietly, and hurried toward the county yamen.

...

“Shaoqing, you’re alive?” Zhang Qian stared at Xu Zhong in disbelief. “Everyone thought you were dead.”

Xu Zhong was utterly confused.

“So you really didn’t know!” Zhang Qian was the county’s registrar, and also Xu Zhong’s former classmate at the academy.

“There were monsters on the mountain where you lived in seclusion. Recently, a vast purple aura descended upon that mountain. The commandery governor, mistaking it for a sign of good fortune, eagerly sent men to investigate. By accident, they released a monster.”

“Dozens died on that mountain. It took the commandery a long time to send people to recover the bodies.”

“I thought you were already... gone.”

Monster?

Xu Zhong exchanged a glance with Yu Sujue, but the timeline didn’t match. Shi Yao had only escaped Fengdu a day ago, whereas Zhang Qian said this happened over half a month back.

“It’s good you’re alive,” Zhang Qian patted Xu Zhong’s shoulder, then eyed Yu Sujue. “Is this your pet? Its fur is beautiful.”

Yu Sujue eyed the fox-fur cloak on Zhang Qian and instinctively edged away.

“But the city is under lockdown. How did you get in?” Zhang Qian’s tone grew wary.

Xu Zhong opened his mouth, and a fire serpent leapt forth, singeing Zhang Qian’s fox-fur cloak and part of his hair.

“I was chosen by an immortal, taken to the immortal mountains to cultivate. Now, my master, having observed the stars, has sent me down the mountain to eradicate monsters wreaking havoc in the mortal world,” Xu Zhong said without pretense.

Zhang Qian was so startled by the fire-spitting spell that he stammered, speechless for a long moment.

“You’re the registrar—well-informed. Tell me where the monsters are!” Xu Zhong covered Zhang Qian’s mouth before he could cry out.

Zhang Qian nodded.

“Two days ago, two villages under Min County were attacked by demons—two hundred households, not a single survivor. The county magistrate sent an urgent report, and last night, the commandery’s elite Imperial Guard set out.”

“And this morning, we received more urgent reports from Tan County, Mao County... nearly a quarter of Yangshuo’s counties have reported suspected demon activity.”

“Most of the Imperial Guard have been dispatched. The governor is coordinating defenses with neighboring commanderies and has just sent a memorial to the court...”

Xu Zhong carefully remembered each place Zhang Qian mentioned. After leaving behind a spiritual elixir, he turned and left Di County.

“It seems most of Yangshuo is plagued by ghosts and monsters,” Yu Sujue said, propping her chin with one paw.

“Where do we go first?”

“We’ll start with the nearest,” Xu Zhong decided. “Whichever is closest, we’ll go there.”

Disliking Xu Zhong’s wind-riding technique, Yu Sujue summoned her own demon wind, carrying them forward with blinding speed.

These ghosts from Fengdu, long accustomed to feeding on yin energy, would be repelled by yang energy upon entering the mortal world. They would never appear during the day.

Only at night, when yang energy waned and yin energy surged, would they emerge to hunt.

“Once these ghosts have consumed enough blood and essence, they’ll no longer fear yang energy. We must eliminate them before night falls.”

Yangshuo Commandery was vast—fifteen hundred li east to west, seven hundred li north to south, the largest in the Yu Kingdom.

To cross the commandery and exterminate all the ghosts in a single day was nearly impossible.

A quarter-hour later, they descended upon Yun County.

Yun County’s city was also under lockdown.

Catching a wind current, they rose into the sky.

Xu Zhong used the Spirit Sight, his eyes shining with divine light, deep and dark.

Suddenly, in Yun County’s City God Temple, the golden statue awakened, extended its hand to point beyond the city, then closed its eyes and resumed its clay form.

“The City God?” Xu Zhong was surprised, his gaze following the direction indicated. The clouds above flowed westward, as if drawn by a current.

“What is it?”

“The City God is guiding us.” Xu Zhong rode the wind. “But why doesn’t he act himself, and only directs us?”

“The City God belongs to the Fengdu Underworld; his duty is to guide souls and judge good and evil,” Yu Sujue explained. “Monsters plaguing the living are a matter for the mortal realm. The underworld cannot intervene.”

“At night, they might use the excuse of patrolling the world to hunt ghosts, but in daylight...”

The laws of heaven dictated the separation of yin and yang—the two worlds do not interfere in each other’s affairs.

“Still, with the City God’s guidance, things will be much easier.”

Yu Sujue was in good condition, but Xu Zhong was not.

“If these malevolent ghosts escaped from Fengdu, and the City God serves the underworld, it stands to reason he should help capture them...”

“That’s what they call ‘it’s easier to catch a great thief than a petty one.’ For the City God to act, he needs an official warrant from the underworld. But with so many ghosts in Fengdu, how could they possibly account for them all? To identify which spirit has escaped is a tremendous challenge—by the time they’re discovered, the ghosts might be much stronger or already slain by righteous cultivators, or even captured by evil sorcerers for their own dark arts...”

Yu Sujue explained the ways of the cultivation world to Xu Zhong. Though she hadn’t experienced these things herself, such knowledge was passed down through her bloodline, as if she’d lived through her ancestors’ memories.

And so, following the drifting clouds, they finally arrived above a remote village.

Smoke curled from chimneys, people moved about—an isolated place, cut off from the flow of information.

They had yet to hear about the recent disasters in Yangshuo.

Xu Zhong and Yu Sujue descended from the clouds.

The City God's guidance ended at the village.

Xu Zhong once again used his Spirit Sight, carefully watching each passerby.

People entering or leaving the village all eyed the strange pair with curiosity. Some had already gone to alert the local headman.

“I’ve found it!”

At the village’s center stood a massive locust tree.

Within the tree, a ghost had taken refuge, curled up like a newborn in its mother’s womb.

It exhaled yin energy, inhaled yang energy.

A murderous aura swirled around it, and many tormented souls clung to the ghost, their faces twisted with rage and malice.

“It’s killed many people!”

Such souls could not normally linger so long; only the deepest grudges kept them bound to the ghost’s aura. But these thoughts would fade with time.

Their true souls had long been devoured.

Heaven and earth souls had gone to their destined places.

“Damn it!” Xu Zhong’s brow furrowed; his intent sharpened.

In an instant, the Xuan Guang Sword sprang from his back, transforming into a blade of white light.

Boom!

The locust tree toppled with a crash.

The ghost started awake, but as its eyes opened, another blade of white light slashed across its neck.

It watched its body collapse, then everything went black.

The locust tree fell, drawing villagers to the scene.

Before anyone could surround them, Xu Zhong caught a breeze, dropping an elixir into the well as he left.

When the villagers finally gathered, they found, beside the fallen locust tree, the headless corpse of a blue-faced, fanged demon lying on the ground.