Chapter 129: Secret Garden Sound Transmission, The Broken Sword Has a Spirit

In the northwest corner of the Imperial City lies a remote and desolate garden named "Quiet Reflection Garden." This place was originally the residence of a prince from the previous dynasty who favored tranquility; its architecture is ancient and simple, the woods are deep and secluded, and it is rarely visited. After the Demonic Calamity, because it suffered little damage and was located in a quiet area, Emperor Chengping, Huangfu Hao, ordered it to be slightly renovated to house those with special identities or those in need of quiet recuperation.

Zhao Yuan was placed in the "Bamboo Listening Pavilion" in the deepest part of this garden.

Outside the pavilion, clusters of green bamboo rustled in the night wind, and the moonlight filtered through the sparse leaves, casting mottled shadows on the stone steps. Inside the pavilion, a single lamp flickered like a bean, illuminating Zhao Yuan’s pale and haggard face. He sat by the window, unconsciously stroking a cold black iron token—it was the identity token of a core member of the Zhao family, yet now it had become a stinging witness to the family's destruction and the death of all his kin.

Several months had passed since he was awakened by Lin Xuan from the Star Fall Lake secret realm and sent to the depths of the Imperial City via a secret technique. His cultivation seal had been undone by the Pavilion Master of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion in a gentle manner, but the trauma to his Dao heart was far harder to heal than the shackles on his body.

Every day, silent attendants brought him food and daily necessities, and cultivators arranged by the imperial family who were skilled in guiding one's state of mind would come to either recount Daoist classics or guide him in breathing exercises to calm his heart. Emperor Chengping even visited once himself; there was no reprimand, no pity, only a calm statement: "The crimes of the Zhao family have their own public verdict. Your departure or stay depends on your own heart. The dynasty is currently in need of talent; if you can distinguish right from wrong and sever your ties to the past, you may yet achieve something."

However, while he understood the logic, the inner demons were hard to remove. Whenever the night was deep and quiet, the hideous and twisted face of his father, Zhao Song, the countless souls who died miserably in the Imperial City’s Demonic Calamity, and the contrast between the family's former prosperity and current decay... all these images would surge like a tide, tearing at his soul. Guilt, pain, confusion, unwillingness, and a trace of hatred—forcibly suppressed—toward the "source" that caused all this (whether demon or man), wove into an invisible net that trapped him. His cultivation base did not advance but regressed, constantly hovering at the late Golden Core stage, with cracks appearing in his Dao foundation.

He knew that if this continued, he would eventually be completely ruined, or even harbor deep inner demons and fall into the evil path. But he could find no way out. The sins of his family were branded into the depths of his soul like original sin, making it impossible for him to calmly accept the "charity" and "guidance" of the dynasty, let alone easily say the words "sever ties to the past." That would mean a complete betrayal of his father and ancestors, and an admission that what flowed in his blood was nothing but sin.

"What... exactly should I do?" Zhao Yuan looked at the swaying bamboo shadows outside the window and muttered to himself, his eyes filled with an unresolvable despair.

Just then, an extremely faint, elderly voice that seemed to ring directly in the depths of his soul came without warning:

"Kid, wallowing in the past and indulging in self-pity is the most useless act of a coward."

Zhao Yuan’s whole body shook violently, and he suddenly looked up. His spiritual sense instantly swept through the entire Bamboo Listening Pavilion and even the Quiet Reflection Garden, yet he found nothing! This voice was not transmitted through the air, nor was it a common secret sound transmission, but a more profound and mysterious method of communication that acted directly on the mind! Moreover, this voice gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity; it seemed... as if he had heard it somewhere before?

"Who?! Who is speaking?" He suppressed the shock in his heart and asked in a low voice, his hand already pressed against the storage bag at his waist.

"Heh, your vigilance isn't bad." The elderly voice carried a hint of playfulness. "Don't be nervous. If I wanted to harm you, with your Golden Core cultivation and those few little fellows outside who haven't even reached Nascent Soul, could they stop me?"

Zhao Yuan’s heart tightened. Indeed, for the other party to transmit a voice into the deepest defenses of his mind without a sound, their cultivation must be far beyond his own. Moreover, the other party seemed to know the security situation of the Quiet Reflection Garden like the back of their hand.

"Senior... what is your instruction?" Zhao Yuan took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"Instruction is not the word. It’s just a pity to see a good piece of material like you about to be completely ruined by your own petty troubles." The elderly voice said indifferently. "I have heard a little about the Zhao family. Zhao Song colluded with the Demonic Abyss and deserved to die; implicating the family was his own doing. But what does that have to do with you? At that time, you were just a junior eroded by demonic energy, unable to control yourself, and later you were knocked unconscious and taken away; you never participated in the core of the rebellion. Emperor Chengping spared your life, and the Lin kid brought you here to give you a chance, not for you to commit suicide here."

"A chance?" Zhao Yuan gave a bitter smile. "To live on while bearing such a sinful bloodline is already a stroke of luck; how can one speak of a chance?"

"Pedantic!" the elderly voice scolded. "Bloodline is given by parents, but the path is chosen by oneself! Your Zhao ancestors were not necessarily all evil villains. Just because there were unworthy descendants in later generations, must you completely negate the hard work of your ancestors? You possess both a 'Dark Spirit Root' and a 'Metal Spirit Root,' both of which are sharp tools for killing and protecting the Dao, and your essential nature is not bad. Otherwise, back at Star Fall Lake, you would not have felt admiration for that Lin kid, nor would you have struggled when the demonic energy invaded your body. What traps you now is not the sin of your bloodline, but your own mental barrier! You dare not face the past, dare not admit your mistakes, and even more, dare not bear this sin and pain to walk a correct path that is completely different from your father and ancestors! You are afraid—afraid of choosing, afraid of taking responsibility!"

Every word was like a hammer, striking Zhao Yuan’s heart, making his face turn pale, yet it also seemed to tear away a layer of fog he had never dared to look at directly.

"I... am afraid?" Zhao Yuan repeated in a murmur.

"Exactly. Choosing a new life means you must personally sever your ties with the past, face the unknown future alone, and perhaps even become an enemy to your 'former self.' This requires greater courage than wallowing in pain and self-exile." The elderly voice’s tone softened slightly. "But if you don't even dare to do this, that is the true failure. A failure to your own talent, a failure to those who died in the Demonic Calamity—not because of you—and even more, a failure to... those who still hold expectations for you."

"Expectations?" Zhao Yuan was dazed. "Who would still hold expectations for me?"

"If Emperor Chengping had no expectations for you, he would only have imprisoned or secretly executed you; why bother to arrange for your placement and guidance? If the Lin kid thought you were beyond saving, he wouldn't have looked at you twice that day, let alone brought you out of the secret realm. And also..." The elderly voice paused. "The broken sword at the very bottom of the storage bag at your waist, which was forged from 'Millennium Sinking Iron' and 'Shadow Gold' but has never truly acknowledged you as its master—it... is also waiting for you."

Zhao Yuan felt as if he had been struck by lightning and suddenly looked down at his storage bag. That broken sword was something his father, Zhao Song, had accidentally obtained at an auction when he was young. It was said to be a broken weapon unearthed from the ruins of an ancient sword cultivator; its material was special, but it had lost all its spirituality and could not be refined. Seeing that he liked it, Zhao Song gave it to him. Over the years, he had always kept it with him, but only as a souvenir; he had never thought...

With a movement of his divine sense, the strange long sword, about two feet long, pitch-black, covered in fine cracks, and with a broken tip, appeared in his hand. It felt cold and heavy, no different from usual.

"Senior, are you saying... this sword has a spirit?" Zhao Yuan could not believe it.

"Its spirituality is deeply hidden, nearly extinguished, but it is indeed there." The elderly voice said. "'Shadow Gold' has an eerie nature, naturally compatible with your Dark Spirit Root. 'Millennium Sinking Iron' is thick and unadorned, best suited to carry the sharpness of a Metal Spirit Root. This sword is broken not because the material is poor, but because its original owner once used it to kill and protect the Dao; the sword spirit bore too heavy a burden and eventually suffered damage and fell into silence during a fierce battle. What it needs is not a master immersed in hatred and guilt, but a true sword cultivator who can distinguish right from wrong, has a firm heart, dares to walk forward in the darkness holding a sword, stops killing with killing, and defends the Dao with the sword!"

"If you can break through your mental barrier, see your true nature, and nourish it with your own essence blood and Dao thoughts, you might be able to awaken a trace of consciousness in this remaining sword spirit. When that time comes, it will become your most loyal partner, helping you sever the past and also cut open the path to the future."

Holding the sword and walking forward... stopping killing with killing... defending the Dao with the sword...

Zhao Yuan gripped the cold, broken long sword in his hand tightly, his fingertips trembling slightly. An inexplicable palpitation traveled from the sword body into his palm; although it was so faint it was almost imperceptible, it was real! It was not spirituality, but more like a... resonance that had been silent for countless years, waiting for something?

"Senior... who exactly are you? Why tell me these things?" Zhao Yuan looked up at the void, his eyes still filled with confusion, but with a trace of faint light.

"Who I am, you will know in the future." The elderly voice seemed to chuckle. "As for why I am helping you... perhaps I find you pleasing, perhaps I don't want a good piece of material to go to waste, or perhaps... I feel this pool of water isn't muddy enough and want to throw another stone in to see what happens. Kid, the road is at your feet, and the sword is in your hand. Whether to continue wallowing in self-pity in this Bamboo Listening Pavilion, waiting for your inner demons to completely devour you; or to pick up the sword, walk out of this world, face it, take responsibility, and walk your own 'Dao'—you choose."

The voice gradually faded and finally disappeared without a trace, as if it had never appeared.

The Quiet Reflection Garden returned to silence, with only the rustling of bamboo and the cold moonlight.

Zhao Yuan stood blankly in place, holding the broken sword, motionless for a long time. In his mind, the words of the elderly voice, Emperor Chengping’s calm gaze, Lin Xuan’s deep eyes, his father’s final madness, and the tragic scenes of the Demonic Calamity... constantly intertwined and collided.

"My own... Dao..." he repeated in a low voice, the struggle in his eyes growing more intense.

He remembered Lin Xuan’s figure at Star Fall Lake, resisting the demons with Nascent Soul cultivation to protect the crowd; he remembered Lin Xuan’s determination above the Imperial City, holding up the sky with one hand and shaking the demonic shadows; he also remembered his father’s ugly behavior as he sank into power and demonic thoughts.

After a long while, the thick, unresolvable gloom and confusion in his eyes were finally pierced by an extremely faint, yet unusually firm, sharp spirit.

He slowly raised the broken sword in his hand toward the cold moonlight outside the window, as if examining his own heart.

"Father, your path was wrong. I cannot erase the Zhao family’s sins, but I will repay and make up for them in my own way." His voice was hoarse, but every word was clear and distinct. "From today on, I am not the remnant of the Zhao family, nor a prisoner of the dynasty. I am just... Zhao Yuan."

He placed the broken sword across his knees, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes. He no longer escaped from the chaotic thoughts and pain, but actively guided his own pure Metal and Dark dual-attribute spiritual power, slowly injecting it into the sword body, while simultaneously attempting to infuse a faint but pure intention of "protection" and "discernment" into it.

That night, the lamp in the Bamboo Listening Pavilion did not go out. An extremely faint, strange fluctuation, almost imperceptible to the outside world, quietly awakened from the depths of that broken sword, which had been silent for who knows how many years.

At the same time, in a heavily guarded secret room elsewhere in the Imperial City.

The blurry figure of the Heavenly Mystery Pavilion Master was staring at the blurry scene inside the Bamboo Listening Pavilion of the Quiet Reflection Garden shown in the water mirror in front of him (disturbed by some force, details could not be seen clearly). He shook his head slightly and let out a silent sigh:

"Shadow Gold, Sinking Iron sword... actually in the hands of the Zhao kid. Old man, you really know how to pick your timing. The reappearance of this 'Silent Shadow' broken sword, I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse. However, this child’s character is indeed malleable; if he can be led onto the right path, he might become a great help in the future. It’s just... by getting involved with that sword, his path is destined to be anything but peaceful."

He pointed his finger, and the scene in the water mirror changed, showing the traces of starlight contaminated by dark red demonic thoughts above the Star Observation Platform, as well as the more distant and profound starry sky background where an invisible vortex seemed to be forming.

"The Star Palace deduction really did attract unnecessary attention. That thing... seems very concerned about the combination of 'Chaos' and 'Dragon Qi,' and also... Starry Essence Gold? It seems I must urge that kid and Huangfu Hao. Time, I fear, is even more pressing than expected."

His figure slowly faded, merging into the shadows of the secret room, leaving only a barely audible whisper drifting in the air:

"The wind of the Vast Sea is about to blow over. A mountain storm is coming..."