Chapter 2393: The Aloof Sword Cultivator and His Bound Sword Spirit 37

Three years passed; past events, grudges and emotions all seemed to have settled like dust.

Not long after Xie Qingmo left seclusion, a steward disciple brought a jade box, saying it was a gift from True Person Lingxu.

Inside were several extremely precious spiritual medicines and immortal herbs specially used to consolidate Nascent Soul stage cultivation.

The disciple lowered their head, only saying, "The True Person instructed that it must be delivered," and said nothing else.

Xie Qingmo took the jade box, fingertips brushing its icy jade texture, fell silent for a moment, then slightly nodded toward the steward disciple's direction at No-Come Peak: "Please convey my thanks to the True Person."

Lan Yi beside him saw this, softly sighed, turned and took a plate of freshly made spiritual rice osmanthus cake from the food box, handing it to the steward disciple.

"Trouble, junior brother, take this back to the True Person." She paused, her voice gentle, "Just say... it's a little token from the disciples."

Jin Chen also picked up a piece to eat, and as he followed Xie Qingmo inside, he suddenly heard the system announce.

【Detected Villain Blackening Value -4, total 0!】

The steward disciple withdrew in response.

Inside the No-Come Peak Main Hall, True Person Lingxu was alone, gazing at the plate of pastry still warm on the table.

He picked up a piece, placed it in his mouth; the familiar cool sweetness melted on his tongue, yet it caught in his throat, as if there were an indescribable bitterness.

True Person Lingxu chewed slowly, finally sighed; the sorrow and regret it held were known only to himself.

After swallowing the pastry, he closed his eyes, left only with a sense of relieved fatigue.

Perhaps after all, there was only this much teacher-student affection.

The sect's grand tournament was approaching.

This gathering was unprecedentedly held at the Heavenly Calculation Sect, which dislikes lively crowds.

For a time, various forces converged, immortal vessels gathered, and the great sect became several times noisier than usual.

However, many privately speculated that seventy or eighty percent of the cultivators who came had ulterior motives, not merely coming for the wine.

They all came to admire the legendary ancient sword spirit.

Now rumors say that the ancient sword spirit is not only unfathomable, but has also freely entered and left the demonic realm as if entering an uninhabited land, needing no soldiers, and with mere aura forced the Demonic Sovereign to tearfully sign a peace treaty.

Thus, wherever Jin Chen went, he almost became the most lively "attraction" of the entire grand tournament.

Whether he was sunbathing or strolling along mountain paths, unfamiliar cultivators would chance upon him and approach to strike up conversation.

Some expressed sincere admiration, while others sought connections through indirect means.

Even more outrageously, some directly offered jaw-dropping astronomical terms, trying to invite Jin Chen to become their sect's offering elder.

Jin Chen found this extremely annoying; he usually kept a stern face, avoiding if possible, and if not, he bluntly refused.

Yet his aloof, keep-away demeanor, which he only showed a smile for Xie Qingmo, struck some as even more attractive.

This infuriated Xie Qingmo.

He appeared to have accepted the Sect Leader's invitation, calmly handling sect affairs and preparing for the tournament.

But whoever showed overly blatant designs or harassment toward Jin Chen, Xie Qingmo would remember.

When the official tournament draw began, Xie Qingmo, facing the list of many eager challengers below the arena, directly selected the young sect leader of a mid-size sect who had been persistently bothering Jin Chen the past few days, also a sword cultivator.

On the arena, sword qi crisscrossed.

Xie Qingmo wore a white robe, his posture tall like a lone peak pine; with his Chen sword still sheathed, merely the invisible sword intent already made the opponent feel doubled pressure.

That young sect leader's cultivation was also not bad, but standing before Xie Qingmo, his aura was already a notch lower.

Jin Chen sat in the best-view spot beneath the arena, leaning lazily against the chairback; his dark robes set off his features like a painting, drawing countless gazes, both open and hidden.

【Host, don't misunderstand,】 Ling Gun Gun promptly interrupted Jin Chen's thought, 【Those people staring at you absolutely have no intention of fighting you.】

Jin Chen felt somewhat regretful, his gaze turning to Xie Qingmo on the arena.

The young sect leader adjusted his breathing, unable to help frequently drifting toward Jin Chen below the stage; finally unable to restrain himself, before the match even began he shouted toward Jin Chen's direction:

"Great Sword Spirit! Junior, in this battle… may you lend your aid once?"

On the other side of the arena, Xie Qingmo: "……"

His icy gaze instantly sank.

Hearing this, Jin Chen, facing the young sect leader's direction, raised a finger, swayed it left and right, making a crystal-clear 'no' gesture.

Immediately, he turned his gaze to Xie Qingmo, the corner of his mouth hooking in a mischievous smile, sending a mental message through his sea of consciousness: "Xie Qingmo, beat him, I'm cheering for you!"

That young sect leader, publicly rejected, felt somewhat embarrassed, yet was not discouraged.

He took a deep breath and assumed his stance.

Xie Qingmo's eyes narrowed, ready to meet the attack.

But as the young sect leader unleashed his sword move, his wrist suddenly twitched, "Senior, wait!"

That shout came out abrupt and loud.

Xie Qingmo's foot instinctively paused, he focused his gaze, thinking the young sect leader had something to say.

At that moment, the young sect leader's longsword blade rose with spiritual light.

"Senior brother, be careful! His sword is called 'Senior, Wait!'!" The spectator Xing Yan below saw it clearly, anxious and jumped up shouting.

Xie Qingmo choked slightly.

The audience below instantly burst into uproarious laughter.

That name paired with that sinister move was simply perfect.

Even though Xie Qingmo was icy cold, this absurd sword name and underhanded tactic left him laughing and crying.

He looked at the oncoming "Senior, Wait!" sword, his eyes flashed, and he called out:

"Jin Chen."

His voice rang clear across the entire venue.

That young sect leader was proud of his clever scheme, thinking Xie Qingmo had been confused by the sword name and lost the initiative; upon suddenly hearing the opponent call out the Great Sword Spirit's name, he jumped in fright.

He thought Xie Qingmo was about to break the rules to call for help; frightened, he kept stumbling back, shouting hoarsely: "Senior Brother Xie! In a sword cultivator's duel, you don't call for the sword spirit!"

Before the words could finish.

The Chen sword at Xie Qingmo's waist flew out of its sheath on its own, its sword light lively like a swimming dragon, meeting that sneaky Senior And Wait.

Clang!

Senior And Wait was easily knocked away by the Chen sword's blade, spinning as it plunged into the distant bluestone ground, humming, its spiritual light dimmed.

Xie Qingmo raised his hand, and the Chen sword obediently flew back into his hand.

He held his sword and stood, his white robes moving without wind, the corner of his lips curling into an extremely faint yet spirited arc, calmly saying to the stunned Junior Sect Leader: "My sword is named Jin Chen."

Junior Sect Leader:!!!

He looked at his own Senior And Wait, shattered in a single move, then at the sword in Xie Qingmo's hand, and his scalp went numb.

What the hell are we still fighting for!

Offstage, Jin Chen's brows and eyes curved, brilliantly dazzling.

The subsequent match left no room for suspense.

Xie Qingmo, as leisurely as a stroll in a courtyard, in just a few rounds drove the already mentally chaotic Junior Sect Leader to the edge of the platform, his sword tip lightly touching the latter's shoulder—victory decided.

His white robes fluttered as he sheathed his sword.