Chapter 96: Illusory Reflections
After lunch at Swordforge Manor, Song Banquet returned to the bamboo courtyard in Chillflower Valley.
The valley had thoughtfully set up a crude protective formation around the little courtyard.
Its defenses were not especially strong; it merely signaled to outsiders that the owner was in brief seclusion for cultivation and should not be disturbed.
With spiritual power roused to activate it, he sat alone in the courtyard.
After a short period of breathing and centering himself, he began to inspect the gains of the past days.
First he took out the dark-blue long case.
He guided spiritual power into it, condensing it into a sheet of flowing water, and carefully washed the case clean.
It was three and one-third feet long and about the width of a hand.
Entirely dark blue, it bore, on close inspection, cloud patterns engraved across the surface like running water.
“Such delicate workmanship...”
In truth, this was Song Banquet’s first time seeing a sword case. He had no real idea how fine the piece before him might be, so he could only make a hazy judgment of his own.
“Why would something unfinished be left behind in the Yan family’s old sword house?”
He turned it over again and again, studying it from every angle.
Hmm?
Song Banquet’s eyes sharpened.
On closer inspection, he discovered a pattern at the lower left corner of the case.
Familiar...
It had not been long, and he quickly remembered.
From his cosmos pouch, he drew forth the flying sword called Joined Branches.
Its blade markings wound along the length like a branch of green plums, rather similar to the pattern at the lower left of the case.
The flying sword had been summoned, but before he could take it into his hands to compare it closely, it abruptly transformed into a streak of sword light and vanished into the sword case.
A hum rang out.
The Duality Pearl stirred once more, beginning to radiate an arcane pulse.
Song Banquet felt a force of attraction drawing the spiritual power throughout his body toward the Duality Pearl.
Compared with the earlier case of the Unmoored Boat, this time he dimly sensed that he could control it all, and could stop the flow of spiritual power at any moment.
Still, there was no need.
He simply took up two spirit stones and poured his spiritual power into them with all his might.
Within his heart, he hoped that the scene would be no different from when the Unmoored Boat had entered before.
A hum.
At last, in a certain instant, the dark-blue sword case lifted suddenly into the air.
With a flash of spiritual light, it disappeared...
His divine sense sank into the Duality Pearl.
...
It had been a long time since he had come in. The scene within the Duality Realm had not changed much.
On the projection of the sword seed, the little sword formed from the embryonic Dao heart had not moved.
That dark-blue sword case floated quietly not far away.
Around the case, one wisp of azure light and one wisp of violet light circled and drifted.
He walked forward slowly and tentatively placed his right hand on the case.
As expected, the two strands of light flew toward him along his fingers and palm.
A tearing sensation exploded deep within his soul, and then his divine sense began to blur.
Black and white winds and clouds surged and changed within the Duality Realm...
...
What was strange was this.
Today, why did everything feel so hazy?
Smack!
A large hand came down hard on the back of my head.
“Ow!”
I turned around stiffly and saw the stern face of a middle-aged man in my field of vision.
“Father...”
His brows were severe, his expression full of frustration: “How long are you going to go on being so dazed and useless every day? What sort of conduct is that?”
...
The street and alley before me gradually became familiar, and the confusion in my mind slowly dispersed.
My thoughts grew clearer by the moment.
This man before me was my father, Swallow Wake. Though his face was stern and he seldom smiled, everything he did was for me and for the family.
My name was Swallow Return, the young master of the House of Swallow.
Today was the day before the Blossom Festival grand gathering.
...
Swallow Wake’s voice was deep and heavy. “Tomorrow is the grand gathering. You cannot simply know how to play and indulge yourself. You must watch carefully.”
“Observe how the elders of the clan and the seniors of Chillflower Valley handle the affairs of the event.”
“These ways of dealing with people and events, of adapting as circumstances change, will all benefit you when you take up an important post in the clan in the future.”
“Uh... yes, Father.”
Seeing that his child was so distracted, Swallow Wake sighed and shook his head.
...
Beside the creek, by a green stone slab, I suddenly heard the cry of a sword.
I quickened my steps and saw a young girl holding an old sword, cutting down a peach branch. The sword’s cry startled the birds resting in the tree.
Her robe was patched at the collar. She turned and looked back at me.
After a moment’s daze, perhaps realizing it was improper to stare at a woman like that, I hurriedly searched for something to say. “Your sword has no spirit to it at all, no different from a common blade...”
The girl looked at me strangely but said nothing.
At that moment, a sharp voice came from behind me. “A loafer out to amuse himself, discussing swordsmanship in the street with a beggar, are you?”
I was startled and hurried back to my father’s side.
Swallow Wake gave a cold snort, glanced at the girl, and said sternly, “Hmph. Come back with me.”
...
Time flew past like a white colt crossing a crack in the wall, like drifting clouds passing before the eyes.
Several years later, on the night of the Blossom Festival, I walked against the flow of the crowd. Beneath a green plum tree at the mouth of a hidden alley, I saw that wandering cultivator girl asleep with a sword in her arms.
Moon-white petals had fallen upon her black hair.
I approached slowly, about to gently brush the blossoms from her hair, when she suddenly seized my wrist, drew her long sword, and pressed it before her.
With a sly smile, she said, “You shameless scoundrel of the House of Swallow—were you trying to take advantage of me while I was resting?”
I gave a wry smile. “On a day of celebration like this, could the young lady perhaps put away the killing intent for a moment?”
Her name was Flower Fall, and she was a wandering cultivator.
Though both her parents were gone and she had no one to rely on, after all these years of knowing her, I had never once heard her complain of hardship.
“Here. The flying sword I forged for you.”
I handed her a long sword. “It’s only a low-grade magical implement, but it’s still better than a cultivator like you waving around a mortal weapon.”
Flower Fall’s eyes lit up. She gently stroked the flying sword in her hands, unable to set it down.
Then she suddenly asked, “Did you really forge this yourself?”
“Uh...”
I froze. My expression became a little unnatural. “Th-that’s of course true. A mere low-grade magical implement—how could that be difficult for me?”
The girl smiled brightly. “All across North Crag Mountain City, there’s talk that the young master of the House of Swallow, Swallow Return, loves nothing but play and pleasure and hasn’t learned a thing.”
“He’s never even studied the methods of sword forging...”
“This...”
My face was burning, and I was just about to defend myself when the girl leaned close to my ear.
Her voice was soft and intimate, her breath fragrant as orchids.
“Little Swallow, from now on, I want you to forge a flying sword for me with your own hands.”
“Whether it’s a mortal blade or a magical implement...”
“I want it to be yours.”
My face turned bright red. I did not know whether it was from embarrassment or from the shame of being exposed in a lie.
...
Strange, truly strange.
Word spread throughout North Crag Mountain City that the young master of the House of Swallow, Swallow Return, had unexpectedly turned over a new leaf and begun to devote himself diligently to sword forging and artifact refinement.
He even took first place in the clan’s small competition.
His relatives rejoiced; outsiders envied.
Yet none of it ever reached Swallow Return’s ears. He knew only that he studied the path of artifact refinement day after day.
He swore that before the woman he liked left the mountain city, he would forge the finest flying sword he could manage at present.
That day, the furnace fire surged high, and the clash of metal against stone rang out.
At last, the flying sword was complete.
Outside the mountain city, the young man and the young woman stood facing one another.
“What is this sword called?”
Flower Fall stroked the flying sword in her hands, the delight in her eyes even greater than it had been beneath the green plum tree all those years ago.
Yet Swallow Return showed little joy. His voice lowered as he answered, “...Green Plum.”
The girl was about to travel far away. Having parted ways today, no one knew when they would meet again.
He drew a deep breath. “A-Hua, the world of cultivation is dangerous. On this journey... you must be extra careful.”
“...”
The girl did not answer. She only looked at the young man’s face and smiled.
The young man lowered his head and went on speaking to himself, “Along the road... take care of yourself...”
“I can’t take care of myself,” the girl said suddenly.
Under the young man’s astonished gaze, she took his hand.
“I’m not good at taking care of myself...”
“Little Swallow, come away with me.”
“Beyond the mountains there are yet more mountains...”
“I want you to go see them with me.”
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