Chapter 265

The ancient Taigu Chilong, once slumbering, turned its gaze toward a distant horizon; it sensed a breath, long shattered and vanished, reappearing within its perception—this meant the Original Covenant had been renewed.

The ancient Taigu Chilong's voice was low and puzzled:

"Who…?"

"Who has such power to restore a shattered oath?"

"Who has such fortune to reclaim this thing again?"

The ancient Taigu Chilong's voice remained low and puzzled, then lowered its gaze: "Yet, the original covenant was between the Chi Xiao Sword and this thing. The one who wields the Chi Xiao Sword should not obtain this, nor cause it to reunite—there should be no such coincidence in this world."

A young Taigu Chilong beside it asked:

"But what if it truly was that man who took the Dragon's Core while wielding the sword?"

The ancient Taigu Chilong lowered its gaze.

It seemed to see again that old friend—once vibrant, finally white-haired—who smiled and reached out his hand to forge a vow beyond time, yet that had already been eight hundred years ago.

The ancient Taigu Chilong opened its eyes and answered:

"If so, then it is time for me to fulfill my promise."

"The Original Red Emperor's Covenant has reappeared in this world."

"Heroes rise and fall across the land—let all know that the Red Emperor's first ally still exists in this world."

……………………

Li Guanyi stared skeptically at the object inside the bronze cauldron; previously, the bronze cauldron had only drawn the essence of powerful cultivators into jade liquid, which then flowed into Li Guanyi's body, driving the transformation of his Qi.

But this time, perhaps because Zhang Ziyong's essence and vitality were simply too vast, the bronze cauldron overflowed with that emerald jade liquid, condensing to its extreme—until it solidified?

Yet this thing looked suspiciously familiar.

Li Guanyi flipped his palm upward, facing the sky; his heart's bronze cauldron roared.

An indescribable warmth surged through him; a clear, resonant hum echoed at his ear—he heard the cauldron's roar now layered with a dragon's cry, and then the object appeared in his palm.

Round, smooth, lively, soft yet blazing.

As if brimming with an extreme, unyielding vitality.

Unyielding?

Li Guanyi froze, then suddenly remembered what this thing was—

When the old sorcerer shattered Zhang Ziyong's immortal physique, the bronze cauldron trembled and rang; a surge of warmth flowed into Li Guanyi's eyes, and within Zhang Ziyong's body, he saw a golden-red orb.

That golden-red orb drifted unpredictably within Zhang Ziyong's body.

Eventually, Li Guanyi drew in the scattered essence from Zhang Ziyong's cultivation foundation, activated the Chi Xiao Sword—the first divine sword in eight hundred years—which descended from the heavens, violently piercing Zhang Ziyong's body and shattering the orb within.

"Back then, the bronze cauldron had already fixated on this thing?"

"All along, while drawing Zhang Ziyong's essence, it was actually drawing this?"

Li Guanyi recalled Gongyang Su Wang's words to Elder Murong while drinking: "Because Ji Chengfeng's fortune gave rise to the Immortal Dragon Core; with its immense vitality, he survived through that era and reached the end."

"Immortal Dragon Core."

Li Guanyi stared at this supreme treasure, then instinctively glanced toward the old man—Elder Murong sat beneath a tree, weaving a willow branch into a headband; his hands moved swiftly, crafting a beautiful, intricate wreath in moments.

The old man placed the wreath upon the silver-haired girl's head.

The silver-haired girl sat beside him, braiding the old swordsman's white hair; Elder Murong and Yao Guang shared deep affection—the old man, invincible in this world, yet utterly alone; Yao Guang, born with brilliant wit, yet stripped by her mother of emotional fluctuation.

The old swordsman felt great pity for Yao Guang; this girl was wise, clear, and luminous—precisely the kind a senior would adore.

Seeing Li Guanyi approach, Elder Murong smiled and beckoned him over: "Hahahaha, come here, Guanyi, come, lower your head."

The old man placed another wreath atop Li Guanyi's head.

"How's that? Much cooler now, right?"

Li Guanyi touched the willow wreath, grinned, and lavishly praised: "Grandpa, you're a master at weaving these now—hey, let's open a stall, grow big and strong, and soon the whole Jianghu will be wearing your style!"

"An swordsman without a blue robe and a willow wreath has no face to call himself a swordsman—let alone wander this world!"

The caravan folk were not nearby, and Li Guanyi's voice was low—he wasn't worried about being overheard.

Elder Murong was thoroughly delighted by his great-grandson's flattery.

He found these words, spoken seriously by the boy—even though trivial—far more joyful than the grand claims of Jianghu masters and warriors about the "Supreme Sword Saint" or "Sword God."

What "Master Jiankuang"?

Nothing compares to your old grandpa's skill—fast and beautiful willow wreaths!

When a beloved great-grandson praises you like this, it brings more comfort to an old man than the whole world's admiration—he laughed: "Hahahahaha, of course! My child has excellent taste!"

Li Guanyi smiled:

"With this willow wreath, I have a gift for you too, Grandpa."

"Come on, Grandpa, extend your hand."

Elder Murong said: "You brat, have you been corrupted by Murong Qiushui?"

"All mysterious like this."

Though he spoke thus, he was pleased and obediently extended his hand; Li Guanyi placed his palm over the old swordsman's—Elder Murong's fingers were long, wrinkled with age; Li Guanyi's palm was still youthful, strong and firm.

Elder Murong's expression paused slightly.

Li Guanyi lifted his hand away.

A thing now rested in Elder Murong's palm.

Round and smooth, radiating golden-red luminescence, exuding potent vitality; faintly, a dragon's cry could be heard within it. Li Guanyi looked at the old man and smiled: "Grandpa, do you like this stone bead?"

Figures like Gongyang Su Wang and Master Siming could see clearly the path the Master Jiankuang walked—seeking not immortality, but grandeur in the present; the legend was forged by the Sword Dao, not by transformations for longevity.

Yet the Immortal Dragon Core was the foundation upon which Zhang Ziyong built his physique.

Even if he could never reach Zhang Ziyong's level—living three hundred years as if still young—having this Dragon Core within him would surely extend Elder Murong's lifespan, renewing his vitality.

Elder Murong did not refuse Li Guanyi's kindness outright, only smiled and said:

"It's indeed a fine stone."

"Good child."

He reached out, gripping the Dragon Core, and sat beneath the tree with Li Guanyi, gazing at the river nearby, holding the Undying Dragon Core before his eyes; under the sunlight, it appeared even more translucent and gemlike.

Elder Murong smiled in approval and said:

"This is a fine thing—smooth and beautiful."

Elder Murong opened his hand and tossed the Dragon Core lightly.

Suddenly, he flicked his wrist, and the Dragon Core flew off like a stone, landing on the water's surface, sending out concentric ripples like a perfect skip, producing at least a hundred splashes.

The perfect Dragon Core, forged to create martial legends, fell into the water.

Li Guanyi said: "Great-grandfather..."

Elder Murong laughed heartily: "When I was a boy, I never found a stone this good for skipping on water."

He reached out, pulled his palm backward, and the Dragon Core reappeared in his hand; Elder Murong tossed it once more, then placed the treasure into Li Guanyi's palm and said: "Here, try it yourself."

"It's a fine thing, but to me, it's no better than a pebble."

The old man smiled: "The path of the swordsman relies on nothing outside himself."

"To me, this treasure is no different from rotting wood or decaying stone by the roadside."

"My path has reached its end; I need no such thing."

"I have no intention of turning back, nor do I regret it."

As Elder Murong spoke these words, his expression was calm and serene.

"But you must not walk my path—this road is a dead end for you, and for all under heaven."

Then he remembered something and added: "By the way, since you have the Dragon Core and once drew the Chishao Sword, you may seek the Ancient Taigu Chilong and make a pact with him—one favor."

"We still have time before reaching Zhongzhou. Let's tell Shi Wu and the others, then take two days to visit the Taigu Chilong first, before returning to join them for Zhongzhou."

So they explained to the caravan folk that they were merely visiting an old friend nearby; the distance was not great, and Shi Wu and the others had no suspicion, only smiling: "We're going to do some trade around here anyway."

"You two go ahead—we'll wait here for two days."

"But after two days, we must continue toward Zhongzhou."

Elder Murong laughed loudly: "Good—it's not far, we'll be back in a day and a bit."

Shi Wu chuckled: "That's fine."

"It's quite a distance—Grandfather and your old friend must not have seen each other in a long time."

"Since we're passing by, you must see him."

Shi Yisong, however, felt slightly embarrassed; after struggling for a long while, at mealtime he smeared two extra scoops of sauce onto Li Guanyi's flatbread, gave him only the tender white parts of the scallions, and tucked the coarse, pungent ends into his own bread.

These old scallion whites were sharp enough to feel like a punch to the nose.

The little boy was reduced to tears.

Yet he stubbornly insisted: "Not spicy! Not spicy!"

"What's spicy? I don't know!"

Li Guanyi saw what the boy wanted and teased him: "So attentive today? What is it you want from me?"

Shi Yisong mumbled for a while, then fidgeted with the corner of his clothes and said shyly: "Umm... there are no sword shops here. If you go somewhere with a bigger shop, could you buy me a wooden sword?"

He pulled out a small pouch and emphasized earnestly: "I'll pay you!"

Inside were copper coins he'd saved bit by bit—earned from small odd jobs, gathering sticks, tying them into firewood bundles, and running errands; heavy with weight, he placed the pouch—this boy's dream and years of hard-won joy—into Li Guanyi's palm and entrusted it solemnly:

"You must buy me one."

Li Guanyi teased him: "Aren't you afraid I'll run off with this money?"

"Huh?"

Shi Yisong froze, then lifted his head defiantly:

"Hmph!"

"A swordsman never breaks his word!"

"A promise is worth a thousand gold!"

He glanced cautiously at Li Guanyi, then at the worn pouch, and added:

"I... I mean, right?"

Li Guanyi burst into laughter: "Don't worry!"

He ruffled the boy's hair gently and said:

"I'll get you a fine wooden sword!"

Elder Murong, Li Guanyi, and the Fire Qilin briefly left the caravan; the old swordsman led the two youths, traveling at the speed of martial legend, arriving at Chen Baxian's Mystical Realm, which had been opened; Elder Murong, Li Guanyi, and the Fire Qilin entered together.

The first time Li Guanyi came here, he encountered many strange beasts.

He even killed a giant bear, letting the Qilin Army enjoy a hearty meal.

Back then, Li Guanyi had planned to return once his cultivation deepened, to explore deeper regions and gather higher-grade spirit herbs—but he'd since been too busy to come back.

This time, the entire Mystical Realm was utterly silent—not a single strange beast, not even the sound of wind. The sky churned with crimson clouds, and a colossal dragon slowly stretched its body, its golden-red vertical pupils fixed on Elder Murong.

"... Muran Longtu, you've come."

"And the Chishao Sword's master."

The Taigu Chilong coiled through the clouds, staring at Li Guanyi, noticing another presence within him—the golden-red Dragon Core.

The impossible had come to pass before his eyes; even the Ancient Taigu Chilong felt the world was like a dream. After a long silence, he said:

"The Dragon Core I gave him... and the shadow of the Chishao Sword."

"When Zhang Ziyong held the Dragon Core, I granted him eight hundred years of life—but you are here not to seek longevity, so it must be the original pact."

"Holding the Chishao Sword, bearing the Dragon Core."

"You may ask me to do one thing."

"Li Guanyi, I have heard of your deeds," said the Ancient Vermilion Dragon, gazing at the young man with a touch of melancholy. Heroes rise everywhere; the world is ablaze with war. To a divine beast, life is endless—witnessing human kingdoms rise like sand piled into towers, then vanish like smoke.

Yet each time in despair and darkness, someone rises like flame, tearing through the night. Even after living through endless years, even as his dragon scales have grown pale with age, the Ancient Vermilion Dragon is still stirred by such stirring, epoch-defying courage.

The Ancient Vermilion Dragon's body lowered, its massive dragon head emerging amid clouds and auroras, coming level with Li Guanyi's gaze. Its voice, vast and mighty, echoed like Lei Ting:

"Then, what kind of aid do you desire?"

"A new hero of the mortal realm."

"Do you wish for me to restrain the world's famed generals at a critical moment? Or descend from the heavens before all eyes, bestowing upon you the legitimate lineage of the Red Emperor—the divine mandate of kingship?"

"Or grant you gold and treasures to raise a million troops."

"The supreme martial arts scripture."

As He spoke of these, He described scenes that had once occurred in history—the Red Emperor was His ally, but not the first being in His long existence to receive the Vermilion Dragon's aid.

Li Guanyi thought for a moment, then looked at the old man beside him and smiled:

"Grandfather, can I handle this myself?"

Elder Murong didn't mind; he laughed heartily. "What? You think you must hide this from me?"

"Still, children grow up—it's only right."

"Secrets bring success; exposure brings failure. This is how it should be."

He patted Li Guanyi's shoulder approvingly, then turned and walked away with the silver-haired girl, smiling: "This Mystical Realm is vast, filled with splendid scenery. Come, let me show you around."

The silver-haired girl nodded.

After they had gone far, Li Guanyi looked at the Ancient Vermilion Dragon, who spoke slowly: "They have left. State your request now…"

Li Guanyi gazed at the Ancient Vermilion Dragon and opened his hands.

On his right hand, crimson light shifted and wove into the shadow of Chixiao Sword; in his left, he cradled a Dragon Core. When the divine weapon and the treasure appeared together, a dragon's roar surged through the four directions.

The boy's black hair stirred slightly; crimson-gold patterns emerged on his skin. The Ancient Vermilion Dragon watched him—and for a moment, seemed to see the heroes of past ages, time flowing, mortal warlords and lords drawing their swords.

Heroic, valiant, domineering—such heroes appear in every age.

He has lived too long.

Sometimes, his sleep lasts longer than his waking. In the endless centuries he has witnessed, once-vivid figures blur together when too many heroes share the same spirit—faces forgotten.

Only faded, whitened images remain in memory.

The Ancient Vermilion Dragon said: "Your request is…"

Li Guanyi opened his eyes and answered:

"I wish for Grandfather to live."

Thus, Li Guanyi stepped out from among the shadows of those heroes in the Ancient Vermilion Dragon's memory.

The Ancient Vermilion Dragon seemed to think it had misheard. It fell silent for a long while, then seemed to laugh. Its voice, vast and mighty, said: "Do you not grasp the weight of this? I am not your Fire Qilin. I have lived eight thousand years."

"My foundation and power surpass the martial legends of your world."

"I can help you cross an insurmountable threshold, reach a far distant future. I can repel a hundred thousand troops, keep them from your borders. I can protect your descendants, passing your tokens to them."

"I can even purify your bloodline with my dragon blood, granting your descendants the innate power to command spiritual forms—thus founding a lineage that endures a thousand years."

"Even so, do you still choose this?"

The Vermilion Dragon's voice was slow: "No moral restraint is needed. How many heroes in history abandoned everything for throne and realm to build their greatness? And Elder Murong's days are few—he cannot accept any other lifeline."

"Even if I alter the outcome of his final battle—'exhausted and slain'—"

"He would still have little time left."

Li Guanyi said: "I know."

The great crimson divine dragon said: "Why?"

Li Guanyi gripped the shadow of the divine weapon: "He is my kin. My grandfather. He once carved through an entire kingdom alone—for me, for my parents. He left his seclusion for me."

"He treated me well."

"He was once strong and vigorous, once held his sword and stood before me."

"They call him the Master Jiankuang—how wild in youth, how fierce in prime. But in my eyes, he is still an old man. An elder."

"He shielded me from wind and rain."

"Now, it is my turn to stand before him."

Li Guanyi said: "I know what Grandfather wants. When I came here, I even wondered whether I should use this wish to fulfill his desire—to summon you, the Ancient Vermilion Dragon, to Zhongzhou, to fight him with all your might."

"But even then, Grandfather would be exhausted."

"He might fight to his very limit—and die."

The boy, once seen as a mighty, heroic lord, lowered his head. He seemed to return to the child who once relied only on his aunt. Softly, carefully, he said: "But I want him to live."

"Is that too much?"

"He has suffered so much his whole life. I want his final days to be happy."

"Even if he fights with all his strength—he can still go home."

Li Guanyi whispered:

"Sometimes I feel I am not a worthy lord."

"I should be colder. But I cannot do this. Even if I merely entertain the thought of letting Grandfather die, trading this treasure for the strategic value of a hundred thousand—or more—troops, my heart aches."

"Sometimes I think I am truly just an ordinary person."

"Not some hero who changes the world."

"Fulfill the ancient pact—with Chixiao Sword and the Imperishable Dragon Core."

Li Guanyi released his grip. The Dragon Core soared upward. The Ancient Vermilion Dragon's gaze drifted behind him.

Perhaps because the conversation had lasted too long—exceeding the theoretical time needed to state Li Guanyi's goal—the man in the blue robe had returned. He stood far behind the boy, having halted his steps.

Li Guanyi's One's Realm could not sense Elder Murong's return.

The Crimson Dragon said: "No regrets?"

The boy merely whispered: "I'm just this kind of person—I only ever wanted to protect those around me, to protect more people. I don't want to become like Chen Dingye, or Jiang Wanxiang."

"A true man knows what not to do, and what he must do. I only hope everyone can be well."

"I hope everyone can be well—no more starving to death, no more trafficking of people, no more treating humans as less than human."

"It was for this reason that I set foot upon the world."

He took a deep breath and shouted: "Then, honor the ancient pact."

"Ancient Crimson Dragon."

"Proceed to Zhongzhou, and witness the final battle of the Master Jiankuang, Elder Murong!!!"

"Then, preserve his vitality, and let him return home."

"Live out his twilight years in peace."

A faint smile appeared on the boy's face; he said seriously: "My great-grandfather spent his whole life rushing about. Such a man deserves to spend his final days in Jiangnan Dao, listening to his aunt's zither, free from illness or pain, living a full and peaceful life."

"The storms ahead cannot be blocked by him alone."

"Li Guanyi is not a second-generation heir who needs the elders to stand before him."

Elder Murong fell silent; the old man lowered his gaze, his face caught between sorrow and joy, yet he said nothing.

The crimson dragon regarded the boy. Too many tyrants had sacrificed their kin, benefactors, and friends for the sake of the world—but it had never seen one like this. The Ancient Crimson Dragon fixed its gaze upon him and asked solemnly:

"Then, what is your name?"

Li Guanyi said: "Didn't I already say it?"

He clenched his fist and smiled:

"Jiangnan, Li Guanyi."

"Good, Li Guanyi…"

The Ancient Crimson Dragon gazed deeply at this man, imprinting his figure onto its eight-thousand-year memory scroll, then let out a long roar and swallowed the indestructible Dragon Essence into its body, its aura slowly returning to true peak strength:

"I shall go myself to witness the end of the Master Jiankuang, Elder Murong. And I shall remember you, Li Guanyi—special one."

The Ancient Crimson Dragon rose into the sky, soaring into the clouds and mist amid its roar, vanishing somewhere unknown. Li Guanyi turned around; behind him, only the rustling pines remained, and in that moment, the heavens and earth held only himself.

Li Guanyi pressed his eyes, then shook off his daze and went to search for firewood.

He planned to make Shi Yisong a wooden sword.

Elder Murong, having walked away and waited awhile, came over. The old man looked at Li Guanyi, pretending ignorance, and said gently: "How was it? What wish did you make to the Ancient Crimson Dragon?"

Li Guanyi replied: "Well… it's a secret!"

"But don't worry—it wasn't wasted."

Li Guanyi grinned broadly and proudly:

"I asked the Ancient Crimson Dragon for the most important thing to me right now."

Elder Murong said gently: "That's good."

"Let's go."

Li Guanyi nodded: "Mm, let's go, Great-Grandfather."

This journey through the Jianghu was not long—the distance to Zhongzhou was only a month away. After rejoining the caravan, they would continue slowly toward Zhongzhou.

Shi Yisong clamored for a wooden sword, so Li Guanyi laughed and promised to carve one for him personally, then pulled out the hard, fine wood he had brought from the Mystical Realm. Shi Yisong's eyes lit up at once.

Under Elder Murong's guidance, Li Guanyi struck the wood, shaping a wooden sword.

They were like an ordinary grandfather and grandson—grandfather bold and free-spirited, the younger one gentle and warm, their bond strong as they fished, drank tea, admired the scenery, watched the wind and clouds, and the old man taught Li Guanyi how to carve the wooden sword.

Time passed slowly, warmly.

But no matter how long one wished this Jianghu road to be, it would inevitably end. People always hope precious time lasts forever—but it does not.

A person can age in an instant.

Time can vanish in an instant.

Zhongzhou—the center of the world and the Jianghu's storms.

They had arrived.

The feudal lords, the world, the Jianghu—all waited for this—

An old man and a boy.

Forcefully regulate your daily routine, and it will turn positive! (Panda head power meme!)