Chapter 111
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Chapter 111: Dragon Scale
In the square before the Moon Grasping Palace,
Ming He stood tall, clad in a blue and white embroidered robe, her posture straight as she wielded the Jing Ying Sword. Her movements were swift and graceful, her sleeves fluttering as her sword intent stirred the heavens and the earth.
The green trees and vines on either side swayed gently under the influence of her sword intent, their leaves drifting down to create a scene of unparalleled beauty on Qin Huang Mountain, bathed in the radiant sunlight and surrounded by a sea of flowers.
Qin Chu Yi had mentioned that an auction would soon be held in Tianwu City, the capital of the First Continent, and had invited Ming He to accompany her. As a result, Ming He had been staying in the side hall of the Moon Grasping Palace for the past month, spending her days in close company with Qin Chu Yi.
She had finally remembered to retrieve Qiū Qiū from the glazed tiles atop the palace roof, but the little creature glared at her with a dark and resentful aura. Knowing she was at fault, Ming He dared not resist and allowed Qiū Qiū to glare at her to its heart’s content before it flew off to find Qin Chu Yi.
Indeed, with Qin Chu Yi around, Qiū Qiū no longer wished to perch on Ming He’s head. It had taken a liking to Qin Chu Yi’s head instead.
But Qin Chu Yi was different from Ming He, particularly when it came to her appearance. After much negotiation, Qiū Qiū finally settled for the privilege of perching on Qin Chu Yi’s shoulder, accompanying her as she handled the affairs of the Qin Clan. It even refused to spare Ming He a glance.
Ming He had no idea what matters Qin Chu Yi was dealing with. The term "Ancient Clan" was too profound for her to fully grasp. Her only knowledge came from the library of the Floating Cloud Sect, but seeing Qin Chu Yi’s furrowed brow and hurried demeanor, she knew the matters at hand were far from simple.
The children of noble families were not mere idlers; they could be chosen as family heirs, which naturally meant they possessed qualities that set them apart from other cultivators, particularly in terms of heritage.
As this thought crossed her mind, Ming He paused her steps, retracting her surging sword intent as she leaned against a nearby tree, her eyes clouded with contemplation. She had gained much during her time in the Blood God Wilderness and felt she was just a step away from the fourth realm of Swordsmanship. Yet, that elusive sensation still evaded her grasp.
The world of Swordsmanship.
Ming He closed her eyes, her brow slightly furrowed. The Ninth Level Sword Intent coursed through her body and meridians, sharp enough to cut through gold and jade, constantly hinting at an impending breakthrough. The formation of her sword domain felt within reach, yet a layer of mist obscured her vision, leaving it tantalizingly close yet just out of reach.
She had tried many methods to dispel this mist.
Qin Chu Yi had given her a Young Master’s token, allowing her access to the first six levels of the Qin Huang Mountain’s scripture tower. The upper three levels, however, were reserved for the direct descendants of the Qin Clan. Since she and Qin Chu Yi had not yet established a contract, she naturally could not enter those levels.
Ming He had not refused. She considered Qin Chu Yi her Dao partner, and they shared the same lofty aspirations, walking the Great Path together. Thus, she accepted the token and visited the scripture tower.
The Qin Clan was the foremost of the Ancient Clans, standing at the pinnacle of noble families on the Tianwu Continent. The scripture tower’s collection was vast, surpassing even the boundless East Sea. Every scroll within Qin Huang Mountain’s library was imbued with spiritual energy, and it was here that Ming He first glimpsed the true depth of an Ancient Clan’s legacy.
She had spent ten days in the scripture tower, studying numerous texts on Swordsmanship, secret techniques, and insights. Her understanding of Swordsmanship had deepened significantly, yet she still could not find the key to forming her sword domain.
What should she do?
Ming He pondered this question, her aura sharp yet tinged with confusion.
It was winter, and a gentle breeze carried down a carpet of fallen leaves.
She watched as the leaves slowly settled onto the muddy ground, her gaze distant. When she opened her eyes again, they were clear and focused. Though she still had not discovered the secret to forming her sword domain, she suddenly realized she might have been too impatient.
Her Master had once told her that cultivation was a battle against the heavens, but sometimes one must also align with the forces of nature—the cycles of the seasons, the inevitability of life and death. The power of nature was immeasurable, far beyond the reach of human effort.
It was for this reason that the Sword Master’s ability to sever mountains with a single strike was so awe-inspiring.
Sword Master.
Ming He recalled the tall, imposing figure of the Sword Master, a faint smile gracing her lips as her sharp aura softened into a calm, jade-like tranquility, like a sword sheathed within its scabbard.
At twenty years old, she had reached the first level of the Wind Master Realm and stood at the peak of the third realm of Swordsmanship.
Her future shone as brightly as the stars.
With this thought, Ming He smiled, sheathed her sword, and chose not to return to the quiet room in the Moon Grasping Palace. Instead, she found a shaded spot in the square and sat cross-legged beneath the swaying trees. As the shadows danced gently, she took out a glimmering object, closed her eyes, and began to meditate.
This was the dragon scale she had obtained during her journey in the Donghua Realm—the life scale of the sea guardian beast, the Flood Dragon of Dragon Mountain. It had been half a year since she acquired it, and this was the first time she had begun to contemplate its mysteries.
The dragon scale’s surface was uneven, with a slightly gritty texture. Without spiritual energy, it was nothing more than an ordinary scale.
But now, as she infused it with her spiritual energy, it was as if she had returned to the East Sea. The roaring waves surged and crashed around her, engulfing her senses. She could hear the thunderous sound of waves striking against rocks, as though she were truly standing amidst the tempest.
Ming He was acutely aware of her location at the Moon Grasping Palace on Qin Huang Mountain in the central region. With unwavering focus, she steadied her mind, even channeling her soul power to delve deeper into the profound mysteries. The world trembled silently, the Star Lock flowed quietly, and dead leaves fell upon her shoulders, yet she remained as still as a stone sculpture.
Dragon Mountain had once said that the Flood Dragon did not practice Swordsmanship, and that her ability to comprehend anything from this dragon scale depended entirely on her own skill. His eyes had been calm and dark, his aura restrained and gentle, and even his thoughts had remained steady. But if there was truly nothing to glean, why had he been so composed?
Beasts are inherently fierce, especially a sea Flood Dragon bearing the name of the dragon clan. If it truly had no connection to Swordsmanship, why would it gift her this scale?
Compared to her unremarkable status, Qin Chu Yi was the Young Master of the Qin Clan, holding a noble position that even made proud figures like the Flood Dragon Dragon Mountain bow in respect.
Ming He held the scale in her right hand, the Jing Ying Sword resting across her knees. With her left hand, she picked up a dry leaf, her gaze darkening as a white figure emerged in her mind. Its eyes deepened, and a moment later, it smiled lightly, casting aside all distractions and leaving her mind clear. Her spirit plunged back into the Great Path with unreserved determination, her back straight as a pine tree.
The radiant sunlight from the nine heavens pierced the clear blue sky, while flowing clouds stirred endlessly in the cosmos. A gentle breeze rustled through a sea of flowers, and in that moment, the world seemed to fall into a profound silence, the breaths exchanged bearing the faint echoes of the Great Path’s mysteries.
In the world, there appeared only a stone sculpture, a figure slowly rising from the depths of the sea.
Qin Chu Yi stood before the white jade table in the front hall of Qin Huang Mountain, poised with a red brush, contemplating the characters to inscribe. Suddenly, her heart jolted as she lost her perception of Ming He’s aura.
This was highly unusual. Ming He had established a spiritual connection through the Star Lock, and unless they were separated by two regions, she would not lose her sense of Ming He’s presence.
That morning, when she had left the Moon Grasping Palace, Ming He was still practicing her swordplay with the white Jing Ying Sword in the square. How could she disappear in an instant from the central region?
Qin Chu Yi paused, and as a thought crossed her mind, her gaze glimmered with hope. She then moved the jade slip aside and walked out of the hall. Even with her vague suspicions, she felt uneasy and needed to see with her own eyes.
Qiū Qiū stood on her shoulder, drowsy. Sensing her movement, it awoke momentarily before resuming its nap.
The distance between the front hall of Qin Huang Mountain and the Moon Grasping Palace was not close, but Qin Chu Yi activated her spiritual energy and hurriedly crossed the distance in less than fifteen minutes.
As soon as she stepped into the Moon Grasping Palace, her eyes immediately caught sight of Ming He, cloaked in deep breaths under the shade of trees, where the fallen leaves lay scattered. Ming He, dressed in blue and white robes, sat amidst the muddy ground, untainted by any dust. The white Jing Ying Sword rested on her knees, its blade half unsheathed. The sword energy had diminished due to her restraint, yet it still evoked unease in anyone who gazed upon it.
Just as she suspected, Ming He had resonated with the Great Path, causing a reaction in the heavens and earth. If not, how could her aura have gone unnoticed by Qin Chu Yi?
It was not merely that her aura was concealed; she had fused with the breath of the world, completely cloaked in her surroundings.
Qin Chu Yi observed Ming He with bright eyes, and after a moment, she shifted her gaze to command the jade slip from the front hall. She sat down cross-legged next to Ming He, taking up her brush in a protective manner.
As the world silently transitioned between day and night, the two women beneath the shade remained undisturbed. The spiritual energy accumulated in their eyes could pierce through the darkness, rendering day and night indistinguishable for Qin Chu Yi.
Ming He continued to immerse herself in the ocean mist conjured by the dragon scale, crossing over the turbulent waves. She stood in the middle of the sea, forming her fingers into a sword as she watched wave after wave crash towards her, her gaze bright. Amongst the thousands of waves, she stood tall like a mountain.
Her contemplation of the dragon scale had begun as a spontaneous impulse, yet she hadn’t expected this small scale would truly ignite her understanding of how to form her sword domain.
With a clear mind, she felt as if the sea had washed away her mundane thoughts. In that moment, her awareness sharpened as she gazed at the immense waves of the East Sea that the dragon scale conjured. Her aura surged with each moment, yet just as she was about to reach its peak, it suddenly fell, returning to silence.
Ming He pressed her lips together in regret but felt no bitterness. Her mind was strong enough to support years of contemplation; however, her spiritual energy could not keep pace.
Being at the first level of the Wind Master Realm turned out to be her greatest limitation.
Ming He sighed and slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling upon Qin Chu Yi, serene and radiant, her brow lit with brilliance. Sitting under a drooping branch, she was focused and serious, each stroke of her brush filled with determination—a side of her that Ming He had never seen before, a Qin Chu Yi that belonged to the Qin Clan.
Ming He held her gaze, unable to look away, feeling somewhat mesmerized. Only when their eyes met and Qin Chu Yi’s dark eyes sparkled with a gentle smile did her breath catch, forcing her to cough lightly in embarrassment and ask, “Senior Sister, what are you doing here?”
“I’m guarding you,” Qin Chu Yi replied with a dazzling smile, tucking away the jade slip. She brushed the fallen leaves off Ming He’s shoulder and took her hand to help her stand. “Congratulations on breaking through to the second level of the Wind Master Realm.”
Ming He was momentarily taken aback. Looking within her meridians, she saw that although her spiritual energy was depleted, it was indeed more abundant than before she contemplated the dragon scale, meaning she had broken through to the second level of the Wind Master Realm.
“Congratulations, Senior Sister, on your breakthrough,” Ming He smiled back at her. She could not discern Qin Chu Yi’s exact cultivation, but she could sense that she must have also advanced in her cultivation.
In just a month, although they had not cultivated side by side, they had both made progress, getting one step closer to their shared goal, closer to the battlefield of the heavens.
“The auction in Tianwu City is about to start; would you like to see it?” Qin Chu Yi glanced at the clouds on the horizon and then lowered her gaze, meeting Ming He’s inquisitive eyes with an added explanation, “It’s an auction held by the Merchants’ Guild, gathering treasures from the five regions, held once every ten years—an event not to miss.”
“Merchants’ Guild?” Ming He paused, looking down at the purple storage pouch at her waist. The image of her second Senior Sister, Lou Qing Shang, smiling freely and boldly floated in her mind—she was the Young Master of the Merchants’ Guild.
“Yes,” Qin Chu Yi nodded. “Actually, if we talk about it, Lou Qing Shang is your true Senior Sister.” There was a hint of envy in her tone.
Ming He’s Master was Qu Lingyun, and in her life, she could only have one Master named Qu Lingyun. Lou Qing Shang was Qu Lingyun’s direct second disciple; thus, she was Ming He’s genuine Senior Sister, unlike someone like Qin Chu Yi, who merely held the title of a fellow sect sister.
“Lou Qing Shang is indeed my only true Senior Sister.” Ming He did not deny it, but she smiled at Qin Chu Yi, knowing full well the inner conflict she felt. “But I will only have one Dao partner in my life.”
She raised her eyes to meet Qin Chu Yi’s gaze, her expression gentle and filled with commitment. “So, Senior Sister, do you perhaps wish for me to call you by another name? Like Yi Qing?”
Ming He deliberately emphasized those two words, her lips curving into a smile, her naturally romantic peach blossom eyes exuding a hint of charm, “Or should I call you Chu Chu, or Yi Yi?”