Chapter 71: 68 Lihuo

68 Lihuo

The White-haired Swordsman sat beneath a plum tree.

At this time of year, the plum blossoms had not yet bloomed; there were only crooked, coiled withered branches, just like the white hair on the Sword Guest's head—withered and lonely.

The group of young men and women stood before him, feeling anxious and uneasy in their hearts, yet their years of upbringing forced them to brace themselves, not showing any signs of cowardice.

The white-haired man's gaze swept over these young people in their brocade robes and fine attire, the corners of his mouth lifting in a rare smile, showing that he was in a very pleasant mood.

As for why he was happy, only he himself knew.

"You—"

He pointed casually at a youth in the very front.

That youth's face showed joy, and he hurriedly stepped forward, bowing as he said, "This humble one is Zhuangnian of the Wuhe Zhuang family. I pay my respects to the Sword Guest. Is the Sword Guest well?"

Pei Shoujing frowned; this Zhuangnian talked too much. He spoke before the Sword Guest even asked, so it seemed he hadn't taken a single word of what she had said to heart.

The white-haired man said, "What did your family bring for you?"

Zhuangnian was startled, not expecting the white-haired man to ask this right off the bat.

His family had brought their foundation for him, and of course, they were not afraid to show it to the Sword Guest; they even hoped the Sword Guest would hold them in higher regard upon seeing their family's heavy treasure. However, he felt in his heart that the white-haired man should have at least asked about his background first, then tested his abilities, then probed his family's assets, and only then looked at the foundation.

Why skip the first few steps and look directly at the treasure?

Wouldn't that be too... vulgar?

Though he complained inwardly, he dared not lose his respect. He took a box from his bosom and bowed, saying, "This is my family's ancestral Qingteng Sword."

Opening the box, one could see a four-foot-long sword; the blade shimmered with a faint green color, and the patterns on the sword body looked like fine vines coiled together.

The white-haired man reached out and grabbed the Qingteng Sword. Zhuangnian's expression changed slightly, and he hurriedly lowered his head.

One must know that this sword was the family's supreme treasure. As a direct descendant with talent, Zhuangnian was in the top three in terms of status within the family, yet even he could not touch it casually, let alone an outsider. But family rules were not worth mentioning in front of a Sword Guest, so Zhuangnian could only lower his head and keep his mouth shut.

The white-haired man toyed with it for a while and said, "A First Layer Dharma Artifact?"

Zhuangnian could not answer. He vaguely knew that his family's sword was a Dharma Artifact, but he did not know the grading of Dharma Artifacts. However, hearing "First Layer" made him feel it wasn't high-ranking, and he felt it didn't match the status of his family's Dharma Artifact—he had, after all, seen the wonders of his family's Dharma Artifact with his own eyes when he was a child.

The white-haired man did not return it, but instead casually placed the Dharma Artifact into a box to the side and continued to ask the next young woman, "What did you bring?"

These young men and women stepped forward one by one to present the sword artifacts they had brought. Basically, they were all Dharma Artifacts; even the Pei Family had Pei Renhu bring a new Dharma Artifact. It was impossible for these families to have true Treasure Swords, and even if they did, they wouldn't bring them out, and even if they did, they couldn't use them. Moreover, Treasure Swords were too picky about their Sword Guest; one could not use Sword Technique to force them, and if no one could control them, they were not as practical as Dharma Artifacts.

Only one youth brought what was actually an Art Tool. Although it was crafted very exquisitely, it was ultimately lacking in realm. Everyone looked at him with various expressions, making him blush with shame.

One must know that a Dharma Artifact must be made by a Sword Hero's sword, making them much rarer and far more powerful than Art Tools. However, Art Tools could not last long and would return to the mundane after a certain period, whereas a Dharma Artifact could last for a long time, at least a hundred years without damage. Therefore, accumulated over a long time, there were not too few Dharma Artifacts in the world. These families, by sacrificing a portion of their assets, could eventually obtain one as a foundation. Using an Art Tool as a foundation was a bit beneath their status.

"This Dharma Artifact is interesting." The white-haired man looked around and finally took note of a bright red sword.

That sword looked bright red at first glance, but looking closer, one felt that the red contained white; the red was as vivid as fire, and the white was as pure as light. It was as if flames were dancing on the blade, magnificent and Shen Yi, unlike anything mundane.

Wang Cheng tilted his head slightly and said, "This is my family's ancestral Dharma Artifact—the Lihuo Sword. It is imprinted from an ancient divine sword. Although it is a Dharma Artifact, its power is not inferior to ordinary authority swords or even..."

The white-haired man said indifferently, "It is indeed an Ancient Sword. Listening to you speak, you have some knowledge. Have you seen an Ancient Sword Manual?"

Wang Cheng said, "This junior has no great knowledge, but my ancestor once had the fortune to see a fragment of a Sword Manual and saw the Nanming Lihuo Ancient Sword Picture, which he never forgot. He said that if our family does not produce a Sword Guest, so be it, but if we do, it would be best to find the ancient Lihuo Sword."

The white-haired man said, "You want to wield an Ancient Sword? What a large appetite. Nowadays, there are very few Ancient Sword Sword Guests in the world, and every one of them is a master of their own domain."

Wang Cheng said, "If the Ancient Sword does not appear in the world, so be it. If it does appear, why shouldn't the Sword Guest be me?" This sentence was spoken clearly and sonorously; these young scions of noble families, regardless of their temperament, never lacked confidence.

The white-haired man looked at him properly and said, "You have ambition. Can you wield a Dharma Artifact?"

Wang Cheng said, "Of course."

Even if his family did not have a complete Sword Guest inheritance, they still understood some common sense. If Wang Cheng couldn't even wield a Dharma Artifact and had to rely on Sword Technique to force it, then his talk of becoming an Ancient Sword Sword Guest would not be a bold statement, but a delusional joke.

Seeing the white-haired man signal, Wang Cheng reached out and grasped the Lihuo Sword.

The sword ignited instantly!

The sword light, which had originally been like dancing flames, truly began to leap. The three-foot blade erupted with seven feet of flame light; the heart of the flame was bright red, becoming whiter as it spread outward. That wisp of flame tail dancing in the wind had turned pure white, transcending the temperature of fire, just like the most intense and brightest light.

The surrounding youths felt the high temperature and retreated one after another, still feeling scorched even standing several yards away, as if they themselves were about to burst into flames.

The white-haired man stared at the dancing firelight and then looked at Wang Cheng's left hand; his left hand was pinched into a very precise sword finger.

It was not Sword Technique.

To have such momentum without even triggering Sword Technique—Wang Cheng and this Dharma Artifact were a perfect match.

A Dharma Artifact is the shadow of Sword Law; that Wang Cheng could wield a Dharma Artifact showed that his talent was aligned with the sword. When that Ancient Sword was placed before him in the future, he would also have a great chance of gaining its recognition.

Of course, it was not certain. A sword choosing a Sword Guest sometimes involved a bit of metaphysics, and sometimes it didn't even choose the person with the strongest talent.

Wang Cheng held the sword, the scorching flames almost curling onto his body, yet they did not harm him in the slightest. His expression was excited, the veins on his forehead bulging as he said, "I am going to—draw the sword!"

The Sword Guest said, "Draw it. A person holding a sword naturally wants to draw it, especially when it is a sword that recognizes them."

He was calm in his demeanor, but the others retreated a few more steps. Looking at the fire on his hand, no matter how they looked at it, it was dangerous. If he were to perform a sweep, who in this courtyard could withstand it?

Wang Cheng's expression was focused; he pointed the long sword forward, suddenly roared, and swung the sword!

A streak of bright red firelight slashed down, the heat wave rolling wildly to both sides, and the surrounding air was rubbed into a scorched smell.

The sword light was several yards long, cutting across the entire courtyard. Several plum trees in the yard were burned to charcoal before the firelight even swept past them.

The Sword Guest was sitting under the plum tree, and seeing the firelight coming straight at him, he frowned slightly. The sword slightly left its sheath, and a bit of brilliance flashed, extinguishing all the surrounding firelight.

The firelight vanished, leaving a long scorched mark on the ground of the courtyard, and there were also burn marks on the front courtyard wall. Everything it passed over had long since turned to ash, and even the withered vines on the wall had been baked dry.

Wang Cheng looked at his masterpiece, panting excitedly. Although his whole body was sore and weak after exerting his full strength, almost about to fall, he braced himself to stand straight, refusing to show weakness in front of everyone.

Of course, more importantly, he was holding on for his cousin. He looked toward Pei Shoujing, wanting to see her reaction to his earth-shattering sword strike.

At this glance, he saw Pei Shoujing glaring at him angrily; the fire in her eyes was almost catching up to the sword light from just a moment ago.

Wang Cheng was stunned, thinking: Why is she angry?

At this moment, Zhuangnian from the crowd rushed out, pointing at Wang Cheng and cursing, "Wang Cheng, you have such great audacity, daring to be disrespectful to the Sword Guest! Where were you aiming that sword strike just now? Although the Sword Guest would not be hurt by you, you dared to draw your sword against him—could it be that you have long harbored resentment in your heart?!"

Wang Cheng was stunned by his scolding, and immediately after, before he could even feel anger, a wave of panic set in. He was also a scion of a noble family, barely able to claim a life of luxury, and he knew well that some things were not about whether they caused consequences, but were great taboos—such as brandishing a sword at a superior.

If he hadn't been carried away for a moment, he wouldn't have made such a low-level mistake.

He almost wanted to immediately withdraw his sword, bow, and apologize, or even kowtow to apologize. His family had long taught him that when dealing with a true superior, groveling was nothing; preserving oneself was the priority.

At this moment, the white-haired person said, "Very interesting. Even in such big talk, there is a glimmer of possibility. I can give you a chance."

Wang Cheng shuddered, as if finding a way out of a desperate situation, and then became wild with joy: Could it be that this Sword Guest thinks highly of him and wants to bestow a benefit upon him? By chance, does he mean he knows the whereabouts of the sword and wants to point him toward it?

The white-haired person said, "Stand next to Shoujing."

Wang Cheng floated lightly to Pei Shoujing's side, first glancing arrogantly at the rest of the crowd, then looking cautiously at Pei Shoujing, wanting to see if her anger had subsided.

He saw that there was no longer much anger on Pei Shoujing's face, but she still looked very grave, seemingly carrying some... worry?

The white-haired person seemed to have lost interest in talking to others; he flicked his sword lightly, and a girl suddenly appeared in the middle of the field.

No one saw how this girl came to be; their vision blurred, and then they saw her.

The girl looked thin and small, wearing a neat fine-cloth dress; her appearance was delicate and pretty, but her hair was grayish-white, just like ashes after burning.

The girl came out, bowed to the white-haired person, and said, "Mr. Xing."

The white-haired person gave a grunt and reached out to point at a tray, inside which were all the Dharma Artifacts of the family Disciples.

"Mingjing, pick whatever you like."