For this blade, Li Chi exhausted every fine and beautiful word in his mind. In the end, the highest praise he could find was four words.

Too damn impressive.

Cen Jiaojia had spent several months forging this divine weapon. For the first three months, she had done nothing but a single thing: continuously smelt and refine.

From the materials, she extracted the finest essence to forge the blade — and the impurities she had culled were used to forge the scabbard.

So in a certain sense, not only was this blade unparalleled in the world, but its scabbard was equally so. Even a weapon forged from the same materials as the scabbard alone would qualify as a near-divine artifact.

This was perhaps the most extravagantly wasteful thing ever done in recorded history — combining two divine artifacts into one.

Li Chi stared at this blade, unable to pull his gaze away for a long, long time.

Cen Jiaojia said: “You can go test the blade.”

Li Chi finally came back to his senses. His eyes swept the room, and his gaze finally settled on the blade named Jingzhe, which hung on the wall behind Cao Lie.

Cao Lie: “Blade stays with the person.”

Li Chi: “……”

He certainly wasn’t going to pit his new blade against Cao Lie’s. If merging two divine artifacts into one was already something only a reckless fool would do, then pitting one divine artifact against another would make him a champion fool.

He laid the blade flat on the table with its edge facing down — not applying any force, just slowly sliding the blade edge a little back and forth against the surface. The blade parted the table at a visible rate.

Watching the blade cut so effortlessly, Li Chi’s eyes gradually widened.

He looked at Cao Lie: “Well — what do you think?”

Cao Lie: “That table is five hundred taels.”

Li Chi: “……”

The weight of the blade, combined with that degree of sharpness, had already reached a level that defied comprehension — even contrary to common understanding of what a weapon should be.

Cao Lie’s mention of five hundred taels was, if anything, an understatement. Setting everything else aside, the table Cao Lie ate at every day was huali wood — he liked it because the material gave off a faint, subtle fragrance, and he was fond of that scent. As for how much the table was actually worth, he had no precise figure in mind; he only knew it was worth something.

The wood being inherently hard, the blade parting it with ease was testament enough to its sharpness.

Li Chi turned to Cen Jiaojia to offer his thanks — but Cen Jiaojia had already walked out with her hands clasped behind her, speaking as she went: “Are you still in that same room?”

Cao Lie immediately answered: “Yes.”

Cen Jiaojia said: “I’m exhausted. Very.”

Cao Lie instantly gave the order: “No one is to disturb her. No one is to make any noise.”

The faintest curve touched the corner of Cen Jiaojia’s mouth as she stepped onto the staircase.

—

Li Chi carried the blade back to the Tingwei residence. Along the way, he had a vague, indistinct sense that someone was watching him from the shadows. But there was absolutely no way anyone was watching from close by — the concealed sentinels the Tingwei residence had positioned along the entire route, the covert agents the intelligence corps had deployed, and Cao Lie’s own people together formed a number that was nearly impossible to count. If anyone with the slightest suspicious movement had appeared, they would have been spotted long ago.

So Li Chi’s sense was less an observation and more an intuition. He could roughly guess where the watcher was positioned.

The Daoist temple. The stone pagoda.

The cloaked figure appeared there again, spyglass raised, watching the direction of the main street. He watched Li Chi’s carriage return to the Tingwei residence.

A moment later, he lowered the spyglass, turned, and gave an instruction: “Go handle the matter. Let those people know when to make their move.”

A young man standing behind him immediately turned and descended the stone pagoda. Once out of the temple, he ran toward the back courtyard, but he didn’t enter any room — he went directly through the back gate and walked at least another two li along the main street before entering a calligraphy and painting shop.

Inside the shop, there was only an elderly man who appeared to be around sixty, bent over his desk at work on a painting — a portrait of a court lady.

“Is the person still in the back?”

The young man asked.

The old gentleman didn’t look up — he just gave a small sound of confirmation.

The young man walked toward the back entrance. He drew a deep breath, then held it, suppressing all his breathing until he absolutely couldn’t hold it any longer. Then, using the momentum of that desperate gasping breath, he stepped into the rear courtyard — the idea being to make anyone tracking his return misjudge how far he’d come.

The rear courtyard was expansive. Behind the painting shop was a private study hall with a considerable number of students learning and practicing their calligraphy. Both flanking sides had side rooms, each with its own teacher and student.

Reaching the third inner courtyard, the young man quickened his pace again.

His official cover was that of a shop assistant here — the kind that gave off the air of someone a little shrewd and cunning but not fundamentally bad. The sort of person you’d find in countless shops, impossible to leave a strong impression on anyone.

The third inner courtyard was comparatively smaller. The entire yard had only a single resident, and no one came wandering in uninvited.

Because the resident living there was someone no one wanted to deal with.

The master of the Sacred Blade Sect sat cross-legged on the rear courtyard’s exposed terrace. Beside him was a censer, from which pale blue smoke curled upward, carrying a distinctive fragrance that seemed capable of swiftly settling the mind and spirit of anyone who inhaled it.

“Master.”

The young man bowed low. “We’ve been observing for two days. Every morning, Prince Ning Li Chi leaves the Tingwei residence to go to Songhe Tower. The man who issued the jianghu proclamation is named Cao Lie — he is the proprietor of Songhe Tower, and also has the identity of being Prince Wu Yang Jiju’s nephew. He is the one who claimed to have shattered the Sage’s Sacred Blade.”

The sect master opened his eyes and looked at the young shop assistant. “When does your backer behind the scenes plan to show himself?”

The young shop assistant was startled by the coldness in those words and quickly bowed. “In reply to Master, our employer has been keeping watch on Prince Ning’s side for the past few days. He asked me to convey to Master that he and Master share the same goal, and to please have no doubts.”

The sect master’s eyes closed again. He seemed to have no interest whatsoever in such an inconsequential figure.

To spend even a few extra words on someone like this — to the sect master, it was utterly meaningless, a waste of time.

He considered himself noble — and it was the kind of nobility that brooked no comparison with any bloodline in the entire world.

So in his eyes, all people under heaven were nothing but insects.

“Master…”

The shop assistant said with measured caution: “There is one other piece of news. When Prince Ning Li Chi left Songhe Tower just now, he was carrying a wooden case. Judging by the shape, it should be a blade.”

The sect master opened his eyes again. A flash of cold light passed through them and was gone.

The shop assistant quickly bowed. “I don’t dare take up any more of Master’s time. Our employer says that if you intend to act, the best time would be on the road during Li Chi’s morning trip to Songhe Tower. Once our employer determines the most suitable timing, he will send me again to inform Master.”

The sect master gave a small nod. “You may go.”

The shop assistant bowed again and turned to leave quickly.

His identity as a shop assistant was merely a surface cover. He took considerable pride in his own martial abilities.

Yet he didn’t even dare meet the eyes of the man living in the rear courtyard. He had done so once — and in that single exchange, he had seen in those eyes something absolutely devoid of feeling.

Not indifference toward people specifically — but indifference toward everything in existence.

A person like that would have no attachments, no hesitations, no lines they would not cross.

Someone who looked at insects and saw insects, looked at people and still saw insects — what could such a man possibly feel anything for?

Killing, for him, carried no weight or burden whatsoever.

—

At the same time, Tingwei Residence.

Gao Xining looked toward the two Tingwei Army Thousand-Commanders standing before her — Zaoyun Jian and Yu Hongyi.

“The most critical moment is each morning. Prince Ning has deliberately made it known that he goes to Songhe Tower at the same time every day, specifically to draw the Sacred Blade Sect’s master into action during that window. First, because the streets are empty at that hour, so no innocent bystanders will be harmed. Second, Prince Ning does not want harm to come to anyone at Songhe Tower.”

Gao Xining said: “The four of you normally rotate on watch in four shifts each day. Starting tomorrow morning, change to two of you on watch at the same time.”

Zaoyun Jian and Yu Hongyi both bent in acknowledgment at once. “As commanded.”

Gao Xining gave a small nod. “Every suitable position for an ambush along the route — we’ve reviewed them at least ten times. We’ve been watching, and whoever intends to strike in the shadows has also been watching. They also know we’ve been watching — so in truth, there’s no longer any position that counts as suitable or unsuitable. Every single step along that road has to be watched carefully.”

Gao Xining understood why Li Chi was eager to resolve this matter — because this sect master was a threat unlike any they had encountered before.

If they didn’t deal with it quickly, and the sect master wasn’t in a hurry to assassinate Li Chi, he could instead begin targeting the people around Li Chi.

With so many people, none of them could simply stop going about their lives over fear of being watched from the shadows — affairs at the office, military matters, business — every day people had to be sent out.

So the sect master would have the opportunity to kill someone every single day.

By deliberately letting people discover that he went to Songhe Tower at the same time every morning, Li Chi had created the real lure — not Cao Lie.

A man like Li Chi — how could he possibly use his close friends as bait?

“In addition to the Tingwei Army,” Gao Xining said, “Old Zhang Zhenren, Master Ye, Master Wu, and his wife — all four of them will also be assigned in pairs each day to provide covert protection for Prince Ning.”

She looked at the two Thousand-Commanders: “I did not come from the jianghu. And even if I had, when it comes to Prince Ning’s safety, I would not observe any jianghu code of honor. If I can kill the Sacred Blade Sect’s master with a thousand men, I will deploy a thousand. If it takes ten thousand, I will deploy ten thousand. So for this period, the Tingwei Army has no other tasks — everything else is to be set aside.”

The two Thousand-Commanders bowed. “Understood.”

Gao Xining gave a small nod. “You’re dismissed. If I judge the situation correctly, that person should be making his move soon.”

When Li Chi returned, the two Thousand-Commanders were just stepping out of the room. They quickly bowed their greetings.

Li Chi smiled in return, then walked in holding the blade case, his expression lit with an excitement too evident to hide.

“Look!”

Li Chi shouted the moment he was through the door. “The blade!”

Gao Xining: “Look at the blade?”

She made a welcoming gesture. “Let’s see it.”

Li Chi: “No — I mean, come look. Miss Cen has finished forging the blade.”

Gao Xining smiled. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

Li Chi said: “Anyone who saw this blade would be happy.”

He opened the blade case. “The blade doesn’t have a name yet. Will you think of one?”

Gao Xining looked at the dragon-scale patterning across the flat of the blade, then at the autumn-water clarity of the cutting edge.

She thought for a moment, then looked at Li Chi. “Do you want something domineering, or something refined?”

Li Chi said: “Tell me both.”

Gao Xining smiled. “Domineering — call it Yijie. The ‘jie’ of ‘realm,’ the ‘jie’ of ‘world.’ For something more refined — call it ‘That Stinky Man From Gao Xining’s House’s Blade.'”

Li Chi burst out laughing.

Gao Xining looked at the blade. “Or… Minghong?”

—