Chapter 75
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Chapter 75: The Sword Challenges the Black Wind
The Black Wind Thieves had established their stronghold in a perilous location. The Black Wind Village was perched halfway up Qixia Mountain, where the winding paths twisted and turned, flanked by trees of varying heights. The serpentine trails extended and intertwined, with clouds and mist swirling above, while the base of the mountain gradually faded from view below.
Ming He stood at the mountainside, breathing slightly unevenly, while Qin Chu Yi stood beside her, her brow furrowed as she gazed at the faint outline of the village in the distance. “Do you think the Envoy of the Black Wind Alliance will remember?”
Before coming to Qixia Mountain, Ming He had used her identity as the Young Master of the Zhenyuan Escort to investigate the Black Wind Thieves. They had risen to power over the past twenty years, holding their ground in a stronghold that even the authorities had failed to conquer. They were a persistent threat in the Jiangnan region, a force feared by many in the martial world.
The Black Wind Thieves were notorious for their heinous crimes—burning, killing, and plundering without restraint. They also took on paid missions, moving swiftly on horseback like the wind. The group was primarily composed of young, strong men, each armed with a curved knife and a fast horse, living lawlessly and embodying the chaos of martial heroes—though they had bestowed that title upon themselves.
The Black Wind Thieves were led by two leaders: a Big Boss and a Small Boss. If the information was accurate, the Small Boss was none other than the Envoy of the Black Wind Alliance, a black-clothed man wearing a wolf-shaped mask, and also the Third Trial Participant. But who was the Fourth Trial Participant?
“He will remember,” Ming He replied, her gaze distant, as if taking in the surrounding mountains, sun, and moon. “Even if he doesn’t recall now, he will remember when faced with a life-and-death situation.” She believed that the brink of death would serve as the ultimate motivator; human potential was boundless in such moments.
Perhaps this was also why the Vast Ancient Realm had assigned her this particular identity.
Ming He exhaled, her breath unsteady. Her current body was far weaker than most, and making it this far had already been a struggle. Yet, she still had to wield her sword and kill.
She glanced at the branches swaying in the wind, and a phrase naturally came to mind: “Burn the boats”—or “fight with your back against the wall.”
Today, it was either she and Qin Chu Yi would eliminate the Black Wind Thieves and sever the cause and effect of the mortal world, or they would perish under the blades of the Black Wind Thieves. Between life and death, she chose to embrace life.
The true strength of a sword cultivator lay in the sword they wielded.
She thought of Qin Chu Yi’s intense gaze from the day before, filled with fiery determination, as she tightened her grip on the long sword, her knuckles turning white. The sword was imbued with the sword intent of heaven and earth, its brilliance concealed beneath a dull, unremarkable scabbard. The moment to draw it was near.
The cause and effect of the mortal world concerned not only the cause but also the mortal realm itself.
Ming He took a deep breath, drew her sword, and unleashed the sword intent of heaven and earth, shattering the wooden gate of the Black Wind Village. Her voice rang out clear and strong, “I have long heard of the infamous Black Wind Thieves. Today, I come with my Senior Sister to cross blades and uphold justice!”
She stood tall beside Qin Chu Yi, her expression calm, her lips still pale from years of frailty, yet her eyes shone as brightly as ever.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” A black-clothed man wearing a wolf-shaped mask emerged slowly from within the village. He raised a hand to stop the other Black Wind Thieves from advancing. “I’ll fight you. Regardless of the outcome, once this battle is over, we should be able to leave this cursed place.”
He knew far more about the Vast Ancient Realm and the cause and effect of the mortal world than Ming He did. Before the Vast Ancient Realm appeared, Ming He had been destined for certain death. But it had emerged at the most critical moment, giving her a glimmer of hope for survival.
“Don’t worry, the Black Wind Thieves won’t interfere. Young Master Qin can find a seat and watch our skills in peace.” He even had the leisure to order someone to bring a high chair for Qin Chu Yi.
“Allow me to introduce myself formally. I am Yóu Lìng, the Envoy of the Black Wind Alliance, fortunate enough to be a disgrace to the human race.” He chuckled, his tone casual and indifferent. “Ming He, we’ll be dealing with each other again in the future.”
As he spoke, Yóu Lìng casually drew a curved knife, holding it lightly in his hand. “I’m not actually very skilled in combat.” With a flick of his wrist, he executed a dazzling flourish, the blade slicing through the air with a cold, sharp gleam.
“Please.” Ming He focused her gaze and thrust her sword forward, the sword intent of heaven and earth surging through the blade. It was neither the Liu Yun Sword Art nor the Big Dipper Seven Star Sword Technique; this was a nameless sword technique, unique to Ming He, her first true expression of swordsmanship.
“The might of heaven and earth, huh?” Yóu Lìng chuckled softly. “I can do that too.” His eyes glinted as he effortlessly parried Ming He’s strike with his curved knife, then flipped the blade to strike at her chest with the hilt, his smile never wavering.
“Pfft.” Ming He staggered back, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t that she was less skilled; her body was simply too frail.
“Ming He!” Qin Chu Yi cried out, reaching for her sword, but Yóu Lìng swiftly intercepted her, pressing down on the hilt. “Young Master Qin, it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to intervene.”
“This is a battle between her and me. If you interfere, you’ll only ensure your defeat.” Yóu Lìng’s dark eyes glimmered beneath the mask. “After all, this place is called the cause and effect of the mortal world. It’s quite particular.”
“Senior Sister, I can handle this.” Ming He wiped the blood from her lips, her eyes still bright and resolute. She had a feeling that the black-clothed masked man was far more profound than she had realized, and that he understood the key to the cause and effect of the mortal world better than she did. If he said this battle was the key, then she would face him head-on.
At least they were starting on equal footing, regardless of their cultivation levels. This was a test of their understanding of the Great Path. Though she hadn’t been practicing swordsmanship for long, she was confident her sword would lead her to victory.
A sword cultivator faced death to embrace life, refusing to yield. Whether in the Vast Ancient Realm or not, she was a sword cultivator—a sword cultivator of the human race.
Ming He raised her sword, her gaze sharp, beginning to grasp the essence of the cause and effect of the mortal world. Was it a test of the heart, or a refinement of her swordsmanship?
With her right hand gripping the sword tightly, she abandoned all the techniques she had learned, relying instead on instinct as she swung her blade forward. Her eyes locked onto her opponent, the black-clothed masked man, both her enemy and the target of her sword. To defeat him, she would have to grow stronger and break through the bonds of the mortal world.
“Human race sword cultivator,” Yóu Lìng murmured, her dark eyes gleaming with a sudden brightness. “Very good, very strong. Continue.” She swung her curved knife, clashing with Ming He’s sword blade. Sparks ignited in the air, the sword light sharp and the blade light blazing.
“Clang!”
Ming He bit her lip to stifle a muffled groan, countering with a swift thrust aimed at Yóu Lìng’s heart. Their figures danced across the confined space, exchanging blows with precision. The willow trees on either side swayed gently, their movements unrelated to cultivation levels but rather a testament to their mastery of the Daoist path.
As time wore on, both bore wounds, though Ming He appeared more disheveled. Perhaps it was her white attire, now stained with drops of blood that bloomed like red plum blossoms against snow, creating a hauntingly beautiful contrast with her pale complexion.
Yóu Lìng sidestepped Ming He’s thrust, tossing her curved knife into the air. As it descended behind Ming He, she caught it with a deft hand and drove it deep into Ming He’s back. When she withdrew the blade, it was tinged with a vivid red, a stark and shocking sight.
“You lost,” Yóu Lìng said, her smile lingering as she kicked Ming He away, her tone carrying a faint hint of regret. “Just a little more, and it would have been me.”
“As long as I’m alive, I haven’t lost,” Ming He replied, spitting out blood and steadying herself with her sword. “I have one more strike. Care to try it?”
She met Yóu Lìng’s curious gaze with unwavering focus, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon and the sword in her hand. The blade trembled slightly, and a resonant hum filled the air—a strike that harnessed the very essence of heaven and earth.
The sword’s initial movement was slow, almost deliberate, but halfway through, it transformed into a blinding flash, swift and unstoppable, like a dragon unleashed. The force of the strike seemed to shake the heavens, the sound of the blade echoing like a dragon’s roar.
“This strike is called Nameless,” Ming He declared. It was the same technique she had learned at the Eastern Sky Arena, yet it was also something entirely new—perhaps the second form of the Nameless Sword Technique.
It was her second step on the path of swordsmanship, a technique that belonged solely to Ming He.
Her Master had once said that the power of a sword technique lay in the hands of the sword cultivator. Qin Chu Yi had echoed this, claiming that a sword cultivator’s strength resided in the blade they wielded—cultivation mattered little as long as the sword was in hand.
Ming He still didn’t fully grasp how ancient sword cultivators had wielded their swords with such might, but she believed that as long as she held a sword in her heart and in her hand, nothing else truly mattered.
And so, she unleashed this strike.
It was a moment of unity between person and sword, her focus honed to the pinnacle of swordsmanship. The long sword in her hand seemed to tremble with a life of its own, resonating with her emotions. When she struck, the world itself seemed to tremble.
For a fleeting moment, Ming He glimpsed the unparalleled grandeur of the Sword Master her Master had spoken of.
“Very good,” Yóu Lìng said with a laugh, her figure enveloped in the sword light, unable to escape—though she made no attempt to flee. Standing amidst the brilliance, she smirked at Ming He and said, “Farewell, Friend,” before shattering into an illusion beneath the blade’s sharp edge.
The sword’s light remained fierce, stirring the winds and clouds, yet it left no trace of blood. Yóu Lìng had vanished as if she had never been there.
Ming He stood frozen, her brow furrowed in confusion, when a resonant voice echoed around her: “Ding! Congratulations to Trial Participant One, Trial Participant Two, Trial Participant Three, and Trial Participant Four for passing the first stage of the Vast Ancient Realm Trial: the cause and effect of the mortal world.
Now begins the second stage of the Vast Ancient Realm: the Trial of the Heart.”
The Trial of the Heart? Ming He blinked, her first instinct to look for Qin Chu Yi. But the woman in red was already fading into an illusion, just as Yóu Lìng had moments before.
Then, the world spun around her, and a powerful force pulled at her senses. Ming He understood—they were transitioning to a new scene.
Though she didn’t know what the Trial of the Heart entailed, she was determined not to lose her memories again. Silently, she repeated to herself, “Ming He, disciple of the Liu Yun Sect,” hoping to anchor her identity. But the scene that unfolded before her left her speechless.
The bright glow of streetlights illuminated a wide asphalt road, vehicles streaming past on either side. The city at night was as vibrant as it was by day, neon lights blending with the stars and crescent moon to create a dazzling spectacle.
Yet, there was always a corner of the city cloaked in darkness.
Ming He now stood in such a place, looking down at a small child huddled in the shadows—a girl of six or seven, standing beside a pile of garbage, her gaze fixed on a familiar figure disappearing into the distance. The little girl stood frozen, silent tears streaming down her face.
She had chased after them, cried out, but even after scraping her knees raw and screaming until her voice gave out, the familiar figure never returned.
At just six years old, she was old enough to remember but too young to understand. She hadn’t started school yet, hadn’t been taught much of anything, but she knew one thing for certain: she had been abandoned.
Left by her own parents in the filth of a nighttime city, discarded like trash, her life hanging by a thread.
The cold breeze carried the stench of decay, mingling with the faint drizzle. The city’s splendor remained untouched, worlds away from this dark, forgotten corner. The little girl’s sorrow went unnoticed, her pain irrelevant to the bustling world around her.
Ming He stood in silence for a long time before slowly approaching. She crouched in front of the little girl, whose black eyes still held a glimmer of innocence—a purity that would soon fade after this night.
“Don’t be sad,” Ming He said softly, reaching out to stroke the girl’s tangled hair. Her voice was unexpectedly hoarse, the girl’s hair dry and rough from neglect.
It was to be expected. Those who could abandon a child wouldn’t bother to care for her. Ming He knew the little girl was likely still hungry.
Because this little girl was her—her younger self.
The Trial of the Heart was meant to force everyone to confront their deepest fears, wasn’t it?
Ming He felt the urge to smile, but her lips only twitched faintly. She still cared, after all. She pressed her lips together, abandoning the thought of smiling.
The little girl, much like her, remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together. She didn’t acknowledge Ming He, for in her world, there was no one else—just herself and the garbage. The neon lights of the city didn’t reach this corner, and the moonlight and starlight were blocked by the towering buildings.
Ming He knew the little girl couldn’t see her, so she softened her gaze and crouched beside her, enduring the cold wind together. The little girl didn’t know what her future held, but Ming He did.
Even though some memories had faded, the emotions from that time were impossible to forget.
In the place where moonlight couldn’t reach, sunlight quietly broke through. Time seemed to reverse as the sun rose, and gradually, passersby noticed the little girl. After futile attempts to question her, they took her to the police station.
The dilapidated corner, untouched by sunlight, had no surveillance cameras. The little girl’s relatives might have come from afar, leaving no trace. After some twists and turns, she was declared an orphan and sent to an orphanage.
Life after that was mundane—school, scavenging, working to make ends meet. As an adult, she left the orphanage to fend for herself, finding a job, struggling, and learning to navigate the complexities of human nature. She blended into the world seamlessly.
The last traces of innocence in her eyes had vanished beside the pile of garbage, replaced by a calculating gaze that grew in the shadow of towering buildings. In the end, she became just another face in the crowd, another cog in the machine.
Ming He was forced to follow the little girl’s movements, shifting from place to place. The people around her couldn’t see her, not even her former self.
She didn’t understand why the Vast Ancient Realm had brought her here. Was it simply to make her relive a past that held no fond memories?
But what was the point? Even if there was a lingering sense of unresolved pain, it didn’t matter.
She only remembered being abandoned and felt that the word “family” held no meaning. Everything else was fine.
Whether it was her past life of mediocrity or her current ambitions, it was all just a way to pass the time.
As if sensing her thoughts, the scene flickered, and a bright light enveloped her. The next moment, she found herself in a new place.
