Chapter 61: The Jianghu Road Is Long

"Writing again?"

Xin Tong glanced over and couldn't help laughing.

Incense burned, flowers arranged, ink and paper fragrant—all done with great solemnity.

Too bad the writing didn't fit the occasion.

Even though Chen Zhao is nearly mastered the Sword Formula, his brush control is still garbage.

Better than hers.

"Looks like Zhao… now that you're famous, you don't want to do Alchemy anymore, just want to get rich from calligraphy and paintings."

Xin Tong bent over, teasing, her big eyes fully curved into crescents.

"Fine, I'll sell them to you at a premium from now on."

Chen Zhao gave her a look.

This girl—when they first met, she was shy as can be; never would you guess she's this sly.

A home tyrant's nature.

"I don't take trash."

"Get lost!"

Chen Zhao pinched her cheek and pulled it hard.

Xin Tong rubbed her cheek angrily, and as she left, she stuck out her tongue.

She shut the wooden door.

"Is the writing really that bad?"

Chen Zhao stroked his chin; he felt it was decent enough.

Xiao Bai suddenly leapt onto the table, stepped in the ink, and pressed onto the paper.

It was like stamping his approval.

With the Beast Control Tablet, Chen Zhao knew it meant no harm.

But.

It scratched at the ground, as if burying…

Its eyes still held a clear, stupid innocence.

Chen Zhao felt his cheeks burn, his heartbeat suddenly quickened.

Fine, fine, fine.

One's a fool, one's a troublemaker.

Both want to be upright ministers—upright ministers with no father, no sovereign!

After several deep breaths, Chen Zhao's mood calmed.

Think carefully—if this writing can't even pass her test, submitting it would be pointless.

For this kind of assignment, he didn't want to waste effort.

Immediately, he activated the Xuan Shui Chang Sheng Lu, and a drop of ink condensed at his fingertip.

"I can't copy, but can't I trace?"

He strained to recall the Taiyin Palace stone tablet—every stroke length, every sword mark depth, every grain of stone, every pinch of soil.

From these details, he deduced the Rune Master's force and sword technique, then imitated it—using his spiritual sense as a brush to trace it.

"Looking closely, the caster must've been far below the Sect Master—could this have been done in his youth?"

In the Moon Palace, youthful vigor, drinking wine, discussing swordplay…

But time turns—

"No, there are secondary carving marks here."

Duan Qingxuan returned to Tiankui Sect and carved over the original youth marks again!

But now it carried a forced maturity, lacking the former freedom and boldness.

Chen Zhao shook his head, sighing in regret.

Truly, buying osmanthus with wine from youth.

In youth, talent was boundless; swordplay and calligraphy came effortlessly, flowing in one breath.

But once that spirit passed, he fell into routine, no longer relying on sudden inspiration.

The former was talent—Chen Zhao couldn't learn it; the latter was experience—he could barely learn it.

He rose slowly, as if enlightened, walking straight toward the Alchemy Chamber.

The stone door shut; cold light flashed.

The Sword Qi remained icy, yet transformed by the cultivation method, like ink wash—fluid, free-flowing.

Though it seemed soft and weak, it had already shaken the Defense Array violently.

And the moment he sheathed his sword—

In his mind, contemplating the stone inscription, he saw only two words: Lament.

Youth knew not sorrow's taste; back then, he thought it ordinary…

Before his eyes, it was dreamlike, illusory.

Two youths, living freely, meeting on the Jianghu, instantly bonding, talking through the night.

Both were brilliant, creating their own Sword Post, but hunted down by enemies, forced to flee across the land.

One joined a sect, the other wandered as a Cultivator, agreeing to meet every three years, drinking and laughing.

But a single letter made the wandering Cultivator race through the night to aid—yet when they met again, mountains and rivers shattered, leaving only one empty house.

Heartbroken, he re-carved the stone inscription, using great power to seal the ruins, settling there to build a home, waiting for his old friend to return.

Each year, new young ones arise in the clan, yet none resemble the old friends.

Before his life ended, he traveled far once more, but his spirit was gone; he died with bitter regret.

The immortal path is long, people come and go, and in the end, he was left alone, looking back at his youth—pitiful and absurd.

But Chen Zhao remembered Liu Chen and Zhang Sifan.

He, too, was once "young," newly entered into the cultivation world, still holding onto a trace of youthful spirit.

Drink wine and compose poetry while youth lasts!

Ink transformed into the "final stroke" of the Kuai Xue Shi Qing Sword!

This was his youthful sword! Free-spirited, unrestrained!

Merely imitating its form, stumbling and awkward, yet it could ignite the previous Sword Qi, its power nearing Mysterious Rank.

A flash of ink light filled the room, and the Defense Array shattered instantly.

"He, he just went to write characters... did he get angry?"

Xin Tong held her cat, her eyes filled with regret.

I should've just fooled him...

Creak.

The stone door opened.

She cautiously peered inside.

There, on the wall, twenty-eight characters of ink were still wet, strong as a blade's cut.

Her lips subtly lifted; she whispered softly.

"This calligraphy could fetch a good price."

But before the words had faded.

Sparks burst from the Pill Furnace; a smell of burning filled the air...

The next instant.

Boom!

"Younger brother, you keep exploding the furnace—it's really hard on me."

He Chengdao scratched his head.

Third time.

Chen Zhao bowed and apologized, yet his mood remained good.

Though he didn't know if this final stroke was authentic, at least he had performed it.

To achieve this effect, the stone tablet, the cultivation technique, the calligraphy copy, and the Sword Formula—all were indispensable.

He had a feeling this final stroke would grow stronger as his technique advanced, likely reaching Mysterious Rank.

"About your cultivation... I'll keep it secret, but don't explode the furnace again—it's too dangerous..."

Xin Tong gently tugged his sleeve, whispering to him.

Her small face was blackened by ash, leaving only a pair of bright, watery eyes blinking.

"Younger Brother Liu just sent a message—he wants us to meet at Juxian Pavilion tonight."

Beside Yuhua Lou.

A three-story pavilion stood opposite, towering above the low shops.

"Brother Chen, long time no see—your cultivation has advanced greatly."

Liu Chen bowed and hurried forward.

"Sister Xin too—your cultivation... no, your Array skills are even more refined."

Xin Tong rubbed her temples.

This younger brother was still the same—his eyes saw only cultivation and resources; his obsession was worse than Su Muqing's.

"Don't rush to praise me, Brother Liu—now that you're wearing that white robe, you look even more like a transcendent master."

Chen Zhao studied him up and down, stroking his chin as he praised.

"Nonsense, Brother Chen, you're too modest."

Liu Chen grinned broadly, delighted.

He hadn't dared wear the white robe yet—waiting for today to show off to his brothers.

"Today we celebrate the opening of our first branch pavilion—let's have a drink."

Juxian Pavilion was well-known; the cultivators below the mountain had long awaited this day, and now the first floor was nearly packed.

The branch pavilion's manager, appointed by the sect, had never seen such a scene and was flustered, drawing complaints from many cultivators.

"Sister Wanyao handles things far better."

Chen Zhao smiled faintly and walked upstairs.

But Liu Chen paused at those words—he sensed something was off.

"What happened to her?"

"She just returned to the Su Family, appointed as Immortal City Manager—she won't be back for ten years."

Liu Chen sighed lightly.

Crisis averted, new pavilion opened, and his promotion to Outer Disciple—all three blessings arrived at once.

It should have been a joyous celebration, yet one person was missing.

He could invite other friends to drink, but without the Robber Cultivator incident, it still felt hollow.

"It's only a ten-year separation, Brother Liu—no need to be so gloomy."

Chen Zhao comforted him.

But he knew full well.

The Su Family's move was to let her accumulate experience and become familiar with other families.

It was most likely training her as the next head, though chances of meeting her again would still be rare.