Chapter 63: A Sword of Graceful Wind

"Qingyuan senior brother!"

The Immortal Seedlings' voices choked, fishy stench mingling with blood; they wanted to cry, but could only gag endlessly.

Chen Qingyuan heard nothing.

All he heard was the gurgle of bubbles and the crackling of electricity nearby.

Tentacles expanded in his vision, piercing through five defense Dharma Treasures in an instant, arriving before his eyes.

So swift was its speed that even burning his essence blood could not save him.

The distress signal had long been sent, yet vanished into silence; Chen Qingyuan's heart held only despair.

He stared blankly upward, seeing only the Immortal Seedlings weeping and the blue of autumn sky.

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A black dot appeared in the clear sky, not jarring at all, like a beauty's mole.

And the next instant.

The mole became brows like distant mountains, one after another, like a lovestruck maiden—now joyful, now angry, now mournful, now resentful.

Only when it spilled close did he suddenly realize.

It was Sword Qi.

He had never seen such a free-flowing sword; utterly tranquil, carrying not a shred of killing intent.

To witness this before death is not in vain for a life lived in this mortal world.

Chen Qingyuan slowly closed his eyes.

But just then.

He caught two Immortal Seedlings shifting from sorrow to joy, suddenly clapping their hands.

He turned his head—and saw ink-black streaks crisscrossing the demon beast's body, its eyes filled with unwillingness; and the next second, its head suddenly exploded!

Boom!

As silent as it had been, now it was explosively loud.

The lake water boiled, surging into a ten-zhang-high wave!

Chen Qingyuan stared blankly, seeing a white-robed figure descend leisurely, standing atop a Flying Boat.

The newcomer was Chen Zhao.

He casually reached out, plucking a black Demon Core from the corpse, drawing it into his palm.

"Thank you, senior brother, for saving us!"

"Senior brother, our boat sank—Qingyuan senior brother is badly wounded and still in the water..."

Chen Zhao sighed softly, summoned a crimson longsword, and took all three aboard.

His sole purpose in coming was the Demon Core—to awaken Xiao Bai's bloodline.

Seven years have passed; he's already at Qi Refining eighth layer, yet this cat has only reached Qi Refining seventh layer, eating endlessly without growing stronger.

Upon Yang Xiao's suggestion, he learned that the Demon Cores of Han Hu's water demons were highly nourishing, so he came to try his luck.

He happened upon this Dragon-Headed Ink Demon.

His Kuai Xue Shi Qing Sword was already highly refined; slaying a Qi Refining ninth-layer demon was no challenge.

As for the people beside him...

"Thank you, senior brother. May I ask your name?"

"Mo Ya."

Chen Zhao had already disguised himself and had no intention of revealing his true name.

His reputation as the Human Wife Killer was too well-known—it invited unwanted attention.

Chen Qingyuan twitched his lips but did not question the name's authenticity; the two youngsters chattered excitedly.

"When I enter the sect, can I become your disciple, Mo senior brother?"

The boy's eyes shone with admiration; the girl tapped his head, urgently reminding him to mind his manners.

"I'm Chen Jingying, he's Chen Jing'an. Senior brother, we owe you our lives—we can't repay you, but..."

Chen Qingyuan quickly interrupted.

Teenagers' thoughts are unpredictable; if they kept going, they might blurt out something like offering themselves in return—this would become a huge joke.

Not long after.

Hancheng Fishing Port came into view: nearly a hundred fishing boats moored along the shore, while Tiankui Sect disciples checked identities.

Chen Zhao landed on shore and finally dismissed the three.

The Token in his chest grew warm.

"Elder Zhang wants me?"

He had trained diligently these past years, kept up his studies, and remained humble and obedient—why would Elder Zhang seek him out?

"Young friend, the Discipline Hall has a task—I hope you'll volunteer for it."

"There's been a change in Lintai County. Meet Jiang Yanqiu and Chen Qingmeng at Hancheng Fishing Port in one hour."

Chen Zhao raised an eyebrow.

That wasn't a request—it was an order.

Over the past seven years, he'd received external assignments before, but Elder Zhang had always shielded him from them.

This time, it must be a Hall Master's directive.

Elder Zhang couldn't interfere directly, so he changed the task's nature to voluntary participation, so rewards could be granted later via evaluation.

Still.

"Jiang Yanqiu... that name sounds familiar."

"It's like the old Soul-Shaking Bell trial's top ranker—entered the sect directly as an Inner Sect Disciple."

This person is a prodigy of heaven; what task requires her to act?

Chen Zhao did not receive a bad omen; this journey should be without major danger.

To be safe, he summoned the two women, Su Xin—a Formation Master and a Qi Refining eighth-layer cultivator—who could still offer him considerable aid.

An hour later.

Inside the fishing port, noise gradually rose; passing cultivators paused to sneak glances, and some fishermen stood frozen, letting Spirit Fish leap wildly on the ground.

Chen Zhao looked up and saw three female cultivators walking slowly toward him.

Besides Su and Xin, the third wore a white dress, her peach-blossom eyes brimming with mischief and liveliness, lips curled in a half-smile, her canine teeth flashing in and out.

Ordinary female cultivators, nourished by Spirit Qi, mostly have lovely appearances and skin like congealed fat; with a Youth Preservation Pill, they remain eternally youthful, beautiful as celestial maidens.

But this woman was different.

Her figure was graceful, her legs long—yet compared to her aura, these features were unremarkable.

It was hard to imagine how such a pure, innocent face could carry a faint, seductive charm.

"Is this the cultivator Chen Zhao?"

Jiang Yanqiu's eyes darted around, scanning him thoroughly, then she smiled sweetly:

"You do look handsome. Fortunately, I have no husband, or I'd truly fear you'd steal me away."

"As for female attendants, I advise you to leave them on the mountain—this mission isn't improved by more people."

Xin Tong frowned, but seeing the official order clearly stated a limit of fewer than three, she could only pout and turn away, handing Chen Zhao an Array Disk.

"This is the Array Disk from the Su Family's East Wing Room... I replaced and upgraded its Array Lines; if anything happens, I'll sense it."

She whispered to him low, then cast him a mournful glance,

"Come back whole and unharmed."

Chen Zhao gave a slight nod.

Meanwhile, the two had already boarded the boat; Jiang Yanqiu propped her chin on her hand, her expression playful:

"Cultivator, how much longer will you linger?"

Chen Qingmeng took the helm.

The boat sped forward, silent the whole way, as if in great haste.

"He's..."

Chen Zhao quietly approached Jiang Yanqiu to inquire.

"Her last known location was Lintai County, Luoyan Dock."

Chen Zhao understood.

So it was a long-distance relationship gone wrong.

He hoped his reputation wouldn't reach the other shore.

"That Yan Sect sister is also an Outer Sect Disciple; she's been missing for three months. The higher-ups want us to find her on the way."

Jiang Yanqiu's tone was half-smiling, indifferent—whether genuine or feigned, it was unclear.

"Cultivator Chen, once you find her, you'd better keep your hands to yourself."

Chen Zhao smirked.

He wasn't sure who that was meant for.

But it didn't sound like a romantic dispute.

Lintai County was rumored to have once been called Lintai Mountain, a Class-One Spirit Pulse; local cultivators gained fame by gathering herbs.

After Lin Yutang struck with one sword, they lost the mountain—and all had to turn to the sea.

Inside, only the Chen and Li families remained; their strongest were Qi Refining tenth-layer, not particularly powerful, and entirely subservient clans, incapable of stirring trouble.

Their mission was to infiltrate the county and investigate the disturbance—not with a strict requirement to resolve it.

Chen Zhao adjusted the disguise headband, glanced at the torn fishing net, and his eyelid twitched.

Their disguise, more like water bandits than fishermen, would get them arrested the moment they set foot on land.