Lin Zhao stared, astonished. "Who... who are you?"
The woman in white chuckled softly. "I am of the sword."
"Ah?!"
Lin Zhao's heart pounded. "Are you... the legendary Sword Spirit?"
The woman smiled. "If you wish to understand it that way, it's not entirely wrong."
Lin Zhao sat on the bed, feeling utterly unable to move, as if struck by a ghost. The woman's aura was overwhelmingly powerful, like an unparalleled immortal descending upon the mortal realm. Every subtle shift of her expression, every glance, was enough to shake the very foundations of the mortal world. Moreover, she possessed a pair of eyes that were the most beautiful in all of creation.
"A deal?" the woman asked with a smile.
Unable to move, Lin Zhao gritted his teeth. "Alright, tell me... what kind of deal?"
"Becoming my master isn't out of the question," the woman in white said, her beautiful eyes seeming to penetrate all truths and falsehoods. She continued calmly, "From today onwards, you must carry this sword with you every day, never parting from it. In return, I will repair your qi sea, allowing you to cultivate martial arts once more. What do you think?"
Lin Zhao felt as though struck by lightning.
Since his memories merged with those of the younger Lin Zhao, he had empathized with the boy's every feeling. He had truly believed he would never be able to practice martial arts again. To hear such a proposition at this very moment was incredibly moving.
However, he didn't dare agree immediately. He asked softly, "Then... by never parting from the sword, what do you wish to gain from me?"
The woman in white chuckled. "What do you think I can gain from you?"
Lin Zhao fell silent.
Sensing his hesitation, the woman reassured him, "You needn't be so cautious. Having you carry this sword daily is simply because... I need to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to nourish my power. I no longer wish to be buried deep underground, isolated from the world."
"I understand," Lin Zhao said, looking up at her. "So, from today onwards, we... are friends?"
"I suppose so," the woman in white replied with a gentle smile. "Lin Zhao, I hope you will remember this moment for eternity."
"Yes," the young man nodded. "Then, what should I call you... Immortal Aunt?"
"???"
The woman in white looked utterly perplexed, wishing she could slap the foolish boy. She sighed. "A long, long time ago, people called my name Bai. So..."
"Got it," Lin Zhao smiled. "I'll call you Little Bai Sister, or Sister Bai, from now on?"
"You may."
The woman in white smiled warmly. "Remember, our pact!"
With that, she raised a finger and gently touched Lin Zhao's forehead, then transformed into a streak of white light and vanished into the ancient sword.
...
Dawn.
The back alleys echoed with the crowing of roosters.
"Hoo~~~"
Lin Zhao jolted awake from his sleep. He clearly remembered everything from his dream, the image of the woman called "Sister Bai" seared into his mind. He recalled her original form was a white dragon. Could she be the legendary White Dragon Goddess? According to local tales, the Soul of the Dragon-Slaying Sword, the foremost among the Ten Great Swords of the world, was the soul of a white dragon!
In ancient times, the most powerful guardian, the legendary Dragon Speaker Bing Lan, had used the Dragon-Slaying Sword to slay a white dragon and refine its soul into a sword soul, hence its name. Could this unassuming ancient sword truly be the legendary Dragon-Slaying Sword? If so, he had truly stumbled upon a treasure!
But could this dream, which felt both real and surreal, be true?
The young man, unwilling to accept it without proof, immediately got up, swung his legs out of bed, and went into the courtyard. He spread his legs, shook his arms, and adopted a familiar stance. He then launched his fists forward, creating a powerful gust of wind. A faint aura of martial intent began to flow around him!
He was overjoyed!
This set of punches he had learned from an unassuming farmer in the back alleys. The farmer, named Long Zaitian, had created this unique style. When Lin Zhao was very young, his father had repeatedly pleaded, and the farmer finally agreed to teach the set of self-created punches to Lin Zhao, hand by hand. The style was called the Farmer's Three Punches!
The first punch: Dry Land Leek Style.
The second punch: Swallowing the Stars Style.
The third punch: Wind Through the Sails Style.
There were only three punches, but when executed, they radiated powerful intent and inexhaustible force. Unfortunately, when Lin Zhao was five years old, a Qilin Fire Seal appeared on his arm. The scorching heat of the fire had burned through his qi sea. Since then, even though he practiced punches daily, he couldn't store any true qi in his body, rendering his efforts mere flashy movements.
But today was entirely different. Lin Zhao held his stance, completing the Farmer's Three Punches. He was drenched in sweat, but his dantian felt a warm sensation. The meager amount of true qi he had condensed had actually begun to circulate endlessly within his qi sea, giving him a sense of perpetual renewal. This filled Lin Zhao with immense joy. Before, all the true qi he accumulated would leak away from his qi sea after practicing. This feeling was simply sublime!
That Sister Bai... everything she said was true, even the dream!
...
The young man's spirits soared. He immediately returned to his room, tore off a piece of clothing that was too tattered to wear, and tightly wrapped the ancient sword and its scabbard with the torn cloth. He then tied the sword to his back. For a moment, this impoverished young man indeed had the air of a sword hero.
"Bang!"
Just then, the wooden door of the courtyard was suddenly kicked open, several plank fragments with fungal growth splintering outward. A ferocious-looking young man stood at the entrance, it was Zhao Jin.
He slowly closed the door and sneered, "My father was too embarrassed to take this sword himself, but I, Zhao Jin, am not. We found this sword together at the Sky Pool, so it doesn't belong solely to you, Lin Zhao."
As he spoke, he beckoned with a finger and chuckled, "Hand it over obediently, and you'll avoid physical pain."
Lin Zhao gestured to the severely damaged courtyard door. "Compensation?"
"I'll compensate your grandmother!"
Zhao Jin suddenly lunged forward. His punches were simple, a direct straight punch, but he had clearly practiced for many years. His fist whistled through the air, quite intimidating.
However, at this moment, Lin Zhao's body now contained the true qi he had accumulated that morning. With true qi flowing through him, his martial intent surged, making him look truly formidable. His speed and perception had greatly improved. He dodged Zhao Jin's punch with a slight sidestep and then delivered a fierce uppercut to the other's chin.
The Dry Land Leek Style!
The flowing martial intent transformed into streams of true qi that lashed out like wind, sending Zhao Jin flying backward. He stumbled back five or six steps before collapsing to the ground, his head ringing, unable to stand.
"You..." Zhao Jin exclaimed in horror, "Are you already a first-stage martial artist?"
"What first-stage martial artist?" Lin Zhao grabbed Zhao Jin by the collar and lifted him. "Before noon, fix my courtyard door, or else... I'll beat you every time you step into this courtyard!"
With a light kick, Zhao Jin was sent flying.
...
Lin Zhao picked up the fishing rod left by Guo Dongyang, a fish basket slung at his waist, and headed out. He had no other plans for the day than to catch some fish for his meals.
He walked along the back street towards the mountain and soon arrived at a clear stream, known as White Fish Creek, named for its abundance of white fish. White Fish Creek was the source of all water for the entire Tianchi Ridge and also a favorite spot for the town's children to fish. However, the white fish were very cunning, and without enough patience, they were difficult to catch, so very few people came to fish there.
The banks of White Fish Creek were deserted.
Lin Zhao dug up some red earthworms by the riverbank as bait and cast his line. Before long, a white fish about a finger long took the bait. He placed it in the water-filled fish basket and continued fishing.
Shortly after, the water began to rise where Lin Zhao was standing.
He frowned. He recalled that a heavy rain had fallen in the town a few days prior, and only now was the rainwater flowing down from the distant snow-capped mountains. Consequently, White Fish Creek was starting to rise. However, this rise wouldn't last long; the water would recede in a day or two.
At this moment, a brilliant idea struck him. He immediately put down his fishing rod, drew his chopping knife from his waist, and began cutting down sturdy reeds in the nearby reed patch. He then planted the reeds one by one in a shallow pool, forming a V-shaped fishing trap pointing towards deeper water. The advantage of this trap was that once the fish swam in, they could hardly escape, making it quite effective. He was rather pleased with himself, thinking this modern technique was likely something Guo Dongyang wouldn't even know.
After setting up the V-shaped trap, Lin Zhao resumed fishing.
He hadn't eaten lunch and continued fishing in the afternoon.
By evening, thanks to his rare patience, his fish basket held over ten fish. Some were only a finger long, while the largest was nearly a foot long. It was enough for about two meals.
...
"Lin Zhao!"
Just then, a boy about ten years old, dressed in fine clothes, appeared on the stone bridge not far away. He was swinging a wooden sword, making sounds of the blade cutting through the air, and said with a laugh, "How's your catch today?"
Lin Zhao couldn't help but smile.
This boy was Zhang Liucheng, who lived on the front street. By rights, he should have been attending the private school, but he was unfocused and most enjoyed listening to tales of martial arts heroes. With his wooden sword, he acted as if he were a sword immortal soaring through the heavens. However, Zhang Liucheng came from a wealthy family; his father was a general in the Tianchi Army, and his mother was from a scholarly family, so he had never lacked money since childhood.
"Oh?" Zhang Liucheng peered, standing on his tiptoes, at the catch in the fish basket. He exclaimed, "This white fish is so big! Leave me the two largest ones. I'll have Aunt Zhang stew them for me. It's the usual arrangement: two fish for ten large steamed buns, half meat filling, half fennel. How about it?"
"Isn't that too much?" Lin Zhao tilted his head and smiled. He knew perfectly well that Zhang Liucheng's desire for fish soup was an excuse; the real reason was to find a legitimate way to help his poor friend.
"Not at all, not at all. Is it too much? No, it's not..." Zhang Liucheng recited, shaking his head.
"Alright, alright, stop showing off your little knowledge..." Lin Zhao said with a feigned look of annoyance. "Hurry up, I need to pack up and go home."
"Okay!"
...
Zhang Liucheng came and went like the wind, returning with a pile of steamed buns. He then happily took the two fish and headed home. Lin Zhao frowned, feeling a touch of emotion. This boy, who usually dared nothing good, had once set off firecrackers in front of someone's cow dung, played pranks on the teacher at school, and stolen money from his own family – a scoundrel in every sense. Yet, he was truly good to Lin Zhao, showing his kindness in the most "subtle" way that Lin Zhao, in his young understanding, could perceive.
Holding the fragrant steamed buns, Lin Zhao smiled.
...
The real world, Su City, S District, a high-end treatment facility.
Lin Zhao lay inside a game pod filled with nutrient fluid. He seemed to have a smile on his lips, and the game helmet on his head pulsed with green light.
"Connection stable," said a technician from "The World" respectfully. "Brain activity is normal. It appears... he is still experiencing some... happiness in the game..."
Beside him, Murong Feiyue couldn't help but chuckle. "That's good... that's good..."