He began to survey. The home of this young boy, Lin Zhao, could be described as "bare walls." There was basically no furniture, just a bed, a dining table, and an oil lamp. Apart from these, there was almost nothing else. The courtyard was even more empty, devoid of anything, yet it was meticulously clean, not a single weed in sight.
According to the memories obtained, this boy was named Lin Zhao. He was born in this town called Tianchi Town. His father passed away at the age of five, and his mother at seven. He was an unfortunate child. Over the years, young Lin Zhao had toiled for survival: in spring, he would go up the mountain to dig for bamboo shoots and gather wild honey; in summer, he would collect mushrooms, catch fish, pick snails, and hunt frogs; in autumn, he would gather wild fruits and trap rabbits; and in winter, he would dig for mudfish, winter bamboo shoots, and wild persimmons. His life was a struggle for survival from the mud, a difficult existence.
Deep within the boy's memories, Lin Zhao also gained a very important piece of information. When the boy was five years old, a fiery mark suddenly appeared on his arm, which the elders of the town called the Qilin Fire Mark. It was considered an ominous sign. The appearance of the Qilin Fire Mark directly burned through the boy's Qi Sea, rendering him incapable of cultivation. He could not store even a trace of spiritual energy within his body, hence he was constantly bullied.
He rolled up his sleeves. Indeed, there was a scar on his right arm, as if from a burn, clearly shaped like a fiery Qilin. This must be the legendary Qilin Fire Mark.
...
Unable to cultivate, impoverished.
Lin Zhao frowned. These two keywords were quite fatal. If that was the case, how could he live a good life in this world?
His gaze fell upon a hoe in the corner of the courtyard. This was one of his meager possessions.
Legend had it that this small town was located on the peak of a mountain range called Tianchi Ridge. Long ago, Tianchi Ridge was also known as the Snow Region Tianchi, said to be the place where the immortal Mingyue Chi ascended. Before her ascension, Mingyue Chi left the foremost of the Ten Great Divine Swords, the Dragon Slaying Sword, in the mortal world. It was rumored to be buried above the Snow Region Tianchi.
Therefore, for many years, countless outsiders had come to this place, constantly searching for the whereabouts of the Dragon Slaying Sword on the Snow Region Tianchi. They had turned the entire Tianchi upside down, but no one had ever found that legendary divine sword. Instead, they had dug up many small, pitch-black stones on Tianchi Ridge, known as Songmo Stone. This Songmo Stone was excellent material for making ink. It had little use in Tianchi Town, but the Southern Great Shang Dynasty was known for its flourishing literary culture. As soon as this Songmo Stone appeared, it was highly prized.
Thus, digging for Songmo Stone at Tianchi was one of the means by which the townspeople made a living, and Lin Zhao was no exception. From the day he could lift a hoe, his figure was often seen at Tianchi.
"Gurgle gurgle~~~"
At this moment, his stomach audibly rumbled, making Lin Zhao feel quite distressed. He was hungry, but there was nothing to eat at home. He had already finished the last roasted sweet potato for dinner yesterday. Whether he could even have a meal today depended on the heavens' bounty.
...
"Let's go!"
He grabbed the hoe, slung it over his shoulder, and went out. Enduring the rumbling of his stomach, he walked about five li to a desolate and open expanse of Tianchi. Along the way, many people saw him. They were all townspeople. A few greeted him, and Lin Zhao nodded with a smile in return, showing great courtesy.
"Hey, Lin Zhao, out trying your luck again?"
Ahead, a soldier wearing armor and a sword at his waist asked with a smile.
"Mmm."
Lin Zhao recognized him from his memories and nodded with a smile, "Trying my luck. If I can dig up a piece or two of Songmo Stone, I can exchange it for a few full meals."
"Go on, go on."
The soldier smiled and let him pass. After Tianchi Ridge was put under strict guard, only the townspeople were allowed to dig here, and outsiders were no longer permitted to enter.
As for this army on Tianchi Ridge, Lin Zhao learned fragmented information from the boy's memories. This army was called the Tianchi Army, remnants of the "Great Chen Dynasty" which had already been destroyed by the Great Shang Dynasty. Even Lin Zhao himself was a criminal refugee of the Great Chen Dynasty. The commander of the Tianchi Army was named Chu Huaixi, known as Commander Chu. He led thousands of soldiers, protecting the last bloodline of the Great Chen Dynasty as they fled to this place, establishing Tianchi Town on Tianchi Ridge, and their descendants had thrived here for generations, continuing to this day.
Lin Zhao couldn't be bothered with these matters. Today, he just wanted to have a full meal.
Thus, Lin Zhao began to dig.
...
As noon approached, the young boy was covered in sweat. Under the scorching sun, each swing of the hoe yielded nothing but empty hands. He continued like this until dusk, and Lin Zhao was on the verge of despair. He had dug up quite a few stones, but they were all useless. Not a single one was Songmo Stone.
"Tsk tsk..."
Not far away, a boy about half a head taller than Lin Zhao was also swinging a hoe. His name was Zhao Jin. Like Lin Zhao, he was a poor person living on the back street of Tianchi Town, though his situation was slightly better than Lin Zhao's. Zhao Jin's father was a blacksmith conscripted by the Tianchi Army, and his mother could mend clothes and do needlework to supplement their income. At least, Zhao Jin didn't have to go hungry.
"Lin Zhao!"
Zhao Jin leaned on his hoe, a mocking smile on his face, and said, "What's wrong, didn't get to eat today either?"
As he spoke, he untied his bag, took out a flatbread, and chewed it loudly, saying with a laugh, "I brought a big bun, but I only have one. Sorry, I can't share it with you."
Lin Zhao frowned and continued to dig.
"You silent dummy, can't even get a word out of you!"
Zhao Jin's words gradually turned malicious. Looking at Lin Zhao, he sneered, "You were born with a Qilin Fire Mark, a cursed seed. First, you caused the death of your unlucky father, and then your mother, who had decent looks, also fell seriously ill and died because of you. What's the point of someone like you... continuing to live?"
The corners of his mouth curled up, and he grinned sinisterly, "Why don't you just die?"
Lin Zhao gritted his teeth. He knew that in his current state, he was absolutely no match for this Zhao Jin. Firstly, his body was not as strong as the other's. Secondly, the other person had eaten, while he was so hungry his limbs felt weak. However, Lin Zhao's temperament was not weak. He simply looked up at the other person and said, "Zhao Jin, you and I both come from poor backgrounds. I am a peasant, and so are you. Why the need to mock and ridicule like this?"
"Like you?"
Zhao Jin seemed to have suffered a great insult, his expression turning somewhat ferocious. "Who the hell is like you? Our Zhao family has two houses on the back street, and our life is relatively comfortable. Is that something you bastard can compare to?"
"..."
Lin Zhao stopped speaking, suppressing his anger, and continued to dig.
As a result, after only a few more swings of the hoe, there was a sudden crisp "clang." Amidst flying sparks, a scene that made Lin Zhao's heart ache appeared. His hoe had broken, as if it had struck something hard.
"Huh?"
The young boy quickly stepped forward, reached out, and cleared away the soil. He discovered a piece of pitch-black iron that had snapped the iron blade of the hoe into two. And this piece of iron was completely undamaged!
"What is this?"
The young boy continued to dig. After a few seconds, he saw clearly. This looked like a sword hilt.
For a moment, the young boy's mind went blank. A sword dug up on Tianchi Ridge, could it be the "Dragon Slaying Sword," ranked first among the Ten Great Divine Swords?
Impossible...
His heart pounded. He grabbed the sword hilt with both hands and pulled with all his might. Instantly, golden light erupted, illuminating the entire pit as if it were daylight. But the light was fleeting. When Lin Zhao pulled the entire sword out, he found that the blade, along with its scabbard, was rusty and mottled. The scabbard was almost rusted through, and the hilt was so tattered it looked like a piece of cotton.
Only Zhao Jin nearby noticed something unusual.
"Lin Zhao!"
Zhao Jin darted into the pit where Lin Zhao was. He spread his palm, a sinister smile still on his face, and said, "Give me the sword!"
"On what grounds?"
Lin Zhao fiercely protected the sword. He realized that although this sword now looked like a worthless ancient sword, that brief flash of golden light was too unusual. Perhaps it was truly a divine sword. Even if it wasn't the legendary Dragon Slaying Sword, it was definitely valuable.
"On what grounds?!"
Zhao Jin's lips curled into a smile, "On the grounds that I can beat you to death with one punch... Give me the sword quickly, otherwise... I'll really beat you to death, hehe... You don't want to die without even marrying a wife, do you?"
Lin Zhao hugged the ancient sword, not yielding an inch. "Only you and I are here in these few pits today. If I die here, Zhao Jin, let's see if you can explain yourself. Won't the townspeople suspect that it was you, Zhao Jin, who killed me?"
Zhao Jin frowned, his tone shifting. He sneered, "Alright, I was just joking with you to scare you. Look at the condition of this sword yourself. The blade is rusted through. What's the difference between that hilt and a firewood stick? But I like it, it catches my eye. How about this..."
He shook his bag and took out a stack of white flatbreads, more than ten of them. The corners of his mouth lifted, and he said with a smile, "How about I trade these flatbreads for your sword? I know you want food. How many times in your life have you, Lin Zhao, eaten such fine grains?"
Lin Zhao was greatly shaken. In fact, he was very eager for these flatbreads, having been hungry all day! But he also knew that the sword in his arms was probably not simple.
"No way!"
The young boy shook his head. "The sword I dug up is mine. No one can take it away."
"Damn it, you refuse a toast and insist on a forfeit!"
Zhao Jin angrily put away the flatbreads. He flexed his arms, which bulged with muscle, and sneered, "I've been learning martial arts from my master for so many years, and I'm about to enter the ranks of a first-tier martial artist. Beating a skinny monkey like you is a piece of cake! Since you want to suffer physical pain, don't blame me for being impolite."
Saying this, Zhao Jin tensed his body and launched a direct punch.
It came too fast!
Lin Zhao's mind was racing, but his body felt weak. He wanted to dodge but couldn't. As soon as he moved, his nose was hit by the punch, and he staggered backward, crashing heavily into the mud behind him. Zhao Jin, however, advanced with large strides, his right hand open, reaching for the sword hilt, and sneered, "A waste like you, are you worthy of this sword? The fortune teller in town already predicted it for me, that I, Zhao Jin, have the talent of a twelfth-level Rebirth Realm martial artist. Only I am worthy of this sword!"
"Ah!?"
Lin Zhao, dazed by the punch, saw the ancient sword in his arms emit a faint light. Immediately, a fair and supple woman's hand seemed to extend from the ancient sword and "slap" Zhao Jin. As a result, the young man with the potential of a Rebirth Realm martial artist, with a cry of "Ah!", actually fell unconscious on the ground.
...
A hand emerging from the sword?
"A ghost!"
Lin Zhao's scalp tingled. He shivered with fright, finally coming to his senses. He immediately threw the sword away, turned, and fled. With a speed he had never reached before, he ran back to his ancestral home, jumped onto the bed, pulled the covers over himself, and was still trembling.
He feared nothing in the world, except ghosts.