Chapter 12

Chapter 12

All along the way, Senior Brother had kept holding Shanting as he searched for a direction, all so he could sense the sword qi of his junior brother, Rui Xun’en.

There were hundreds, even thousands of Abandoned Blessings under Xiangwu Mountain’s name, but Sect Master Xiang Suize had only three true disciples.

His eldest disciple, Nan Wenji. His second disciple, Rui Xun’en. His third disciple, Mei Tao.

Senior Brother told me that he had been separated from his junior brother and junior sister when Xiangwu Mountain was suppressing the Abandoned Blessings Uprising.

After that, he tried every method he could think of, but still failed to sense their Blessed Power.

At the time, Shanting had been broken. After receiving a transmitted instruction from his master, he chose to conceal his identity and repair Shanting first, then use the resonance between the two swords to find them.

“My junior brother’s Mojian and Shanting were forged from the same source. They’re like twins, able to answer each other’s sword song.

“Shanting hates being lonely more than anything. The only thing that could make it this happy is finding Mojian.”

Senior Brother could not suppress the joy in his voice. He gripped Shanting tightly, his eyes shifting with light like a clear, sparkling spring.

“Mojian isn’t far from here. I’m going to find it now.”

With that, he rose to his feet, but I grabbed the hem of his robe.

“I’m going too, I’m going too!”

“Your eyes aren’t well. Just wait here.”

“How could I? Senior Brother’s junior brother is my little senior brother too, isn’t he?”

I slipped on my outer robe with practiced speed and darted out the door ahead of him.

I had wanted to meet this little senior brother for ages.

Senior Brother had once said he was reserved by nature, poor with words, and often offended people whenever he spoke.

Fortunately, he was very good at raising birds.

Apparently, he had used his own Blessed Power to nourish dozens of Qingque. Not only could they keep him company with little tricks and make him laugh, they could also serve as his eyes, recording the sights they saw and bringing them back, so that a man who almost never left home would not lose all connection to the outside world.

Senior Brother strode ahead to lead the way, while I trailed behind him, chattering nonstop.

“Senior Brother, why are Little Senior Brother’s Qingque so obedient? How did he train them? Could we ask him to teach me?

“Can he recognize every single one? Did he give them all names?

“With so many Qingque, wouldn’t the courtyard smell?

“Oh, right. If he can see the Qingque’s memories, doesn’t that mean he could use them to do all sorts of shady things? Heh heh…”

…

I was so immersed in my curiosity about Little Senior Brother that I had no idea Senior Brother’s breathing had gradually grown heavier.

Only when I suddenly walked straight into his back did pain jolt me back to my senses.

“Senior Brother, what is it?”

Senior Brother did not answer. Holding Shanting, he silently stared at the scene before us.

The dark clouds hung thick, and the moonlight was bleak.

The wind howled past us without a care, tearing through the distant forest with wails like it was snapping rotten wood, desolate beyond words.

This was a sword burial ground, densely packed with countless lifeless swords thrust upright into the earth.

An ominous feeling rose in my heart at once. I unconsciously held my breath and instinctively looked over at Senior Brother’s face.

I saw him walk hesitantly up to a sword as black as ink, where he stood staring at it for a very long time without blinking.

“Mojian.”

He called its name softly, then gently tapped its hilt with Shanting’s.

Mojian did not answer with a sword song. It only gave off one last, dying glimmer, which sank into Shanting’s feathered radiance.

“Mojian?”

Senior Brother parted his lips again, his voice slightly hoarse.

Just then, a Qingque flew over from who knew where. It fluttered its wings and landed lightly on Mojian’s hilt.

The clouds parted to reveal the moon, and frost-pale light poured into the bird’s bright black eyes. It cried twice at Senior Brother.

Its call was clear and crisp, yet the sound made one’s heart ache.