Chapter Seven: Return Without a Blade

Luo Changning gradually regained consciousness, but his meridians burned as though set aflame, the pain so intense he nearly fainted again. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his whole body was flushed with heat.

Nevertheless, Gao Haitian and his companions paid him no mind, engrossed in lewd jokes, oblivious to his distress.

On the shore, as the small boat drifted farther away, the man in the straw raincoat clenched and unclenched his fists. Beneath the brim of his conical hat, his star-like eyes revealed nothing of his emotions.

A fisherman and his daughter approached, only to be stopped by the man.

"Here, take these banknotes." With a flick of his wrist, the money landed in the fisherman's hands, and the man turned away, disappearing into the distance before the pair could react.

The middle-aged fisherman glanced down and gasped, "Three... three hundred taels!"

"Three hundred taels? My goodness, I've never seen so much money before," the girl exclaimed, her earlier resentment swept away by excitement. "Father, this is wonderful—we've met a good man!"

"Yes, a good man, a true hero. He has saved our whole family!" the fisherman echoed gratefully.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Gao Haitian and his men tossed Luo Changning into the sea.

"Too good for that black beggar, dying so quickly," Gao Haitian sneered, his eyes rolling with contempt.

"Heh, young master, that wretch will end up as fish food, not even a complete corpse left," a burly henchman chuckled obsequiously. It was shameful to see a man stoop so low, aiding villains instead of standing tall with integrity.

Laughter erupted as the group turned their boat back toward shore.

Encased in the icy sea, Luo Changning felt the searing heat inside him ease. Opening his eyes, he waited in stillness until he sensed the fishing boat had gone far enough, then surfaced, preparing to swim back.

Hiss—such pain! He grimaced as saltwater seeped into the myriad wounds on his body, the sensation excruciating.

He thought to himself: My swimming skills are good, but with these injuries and my meridians aflame, I may not survive the journey. Still, I cannot resign myself to death. Even dying halfway is better than waiting here to perish.

Resolute, Luo Changning steeled himself to swim despite the agony.

Suddenly, disaster struck! A bolt of lightning crashed down from above, striking him squarely before he could dodge. His body went numb, and he lost consciousness, sinking into the depths.

The seabed was a realm of utter darkness, devoid of all life—a barren wasteland. Luo Changning seemed lifeless himself, sprawled motionless atop a low mound.

After a while, the ground beneath the mound split open with a thunderous crack, and from the fissure rose a pitch-black broadsword, unleashing a dazzling white light that illuminated the ocean around.

The black blade, as if endowed with sight, flew to Luo Changning and landed beside his hand. The surging white light poured into his body, his wounds closing at a rate visible to the naked eye, his skin smooth and flawless as if reborn.

His fingers twitched and his eyes opened.

Where am I? Am I already dead? He looked around—nothing but rock, sand, and water.

Wait—water? What is happening? He had heard of martial artists at the innate level using true qi to part water, but never of anyone breathing freely beneath it.

Moreover, he found he could see in the darkness as if it were daylight—his vision had opened!

He sat up to investigate, then noticed the pitch-black broadsword at his feet.

Its hilt and scabbard were both inky black—a plain, unremarkable weapon. Yet as he gazed at it, Luo Changning's heart skipped a beat. Compelled by some unknown force, he bent down and picked it up.

The moment his hand touched the blade, he felt as if suspended in nothingness, his soul adrift in a dream. When he came to, he could no longer let go of the ugly sword; it felt as much a part of him as his own flesh.

A tear traced down his cheek as he caressed the blade.

Have you been waiting here for me all this time? At last, I have found you...

The thought startled him—why would such words, meant for a lover, come unbidden to mind? Yet the sword filled him with an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if it had always belonged to him.

He drew the blade—the only sound the whisper of metal on metal, with no aura of cold or menace. It was a weapon devoid of spirit, though even the lowest-grade arms of this world carried a spiritual resonance.

The shape was common, the blade as black as the hilt, dark without luster, its material indiscernible. In every way, the sword was plain, exuding no trace of danger.

So unassuming it was deadly in its modesty.

Was this unremarkable sword truly as harmless as it seemed? The most dangerous place is often the safest; appearances can deceive.

Luo Changning smiled faintly. The blade bore a single, wordless inscription. Henceforth, you shall be called the Nameless Blade. I do not know if all these strange events are your doing. Nevertheless, you are with me now—I shall not abandon you, even if you are nothing but an ordinary sword.

Perhaps fate is at work in the shadows. Today I have survived calamity only to gain a stroke of fortune, able now to breathe freely underwater as if on land.

My father was the greatest swordsman in the world. Someday, I will stand at the pinnacle of the sword path and use the Nameless Blade to take the head of Old Villain Dugu!

Sheathing the sword, Luo Changning noticed something amiss.

His hands were as white as jade. He rolled up his sleeves—his arms, too, were soft and pale.

How extraordinary—struck by lightning, and I’ve turned from black sesame to white tofu!

His wounds were gone, not a single scar remaining, and the agony in his meridians had vanished.

With this in mind, Luo Changning sat in meditation, focusing his energy on his dantian and circulating his inner power.

Slowly, his dantian felt aflame, yet a pure stream of internal energy coursed through his twelve principal meridians, now widened to the breadth of a thumb.

His vision had opened; only the Ren and Du meridians remained. Once they were cleared, his five senses would reach the innate stage!

He opened his eyes in delight. Were he not still underwater, he would have burst out laughing. Today, disaster had turned to blessing, one surprise after another.

Mother, can you see me? I have grown stronger, bringing me a step closer to vengeance. Heaven itself has opened its eyes, hastening my path to retribution!

There is a saying: reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles. Though Luo Changning was well-read and intelligent, with fleeting memories from a previous life, he had grown up in the tiny county of Qingyang and his experience was limited. He sensed revenge would be difficult, but still underestimated his enemies.

If postnatal martial artists were fireflies and innate ones the moon, then transcendents were brighter than the sun itself—let alone Dugu Bancheng, esteemed as the Emperor of Men, his power unrivaled.

Yet a man with hatred in his heart, steadfast and resolute, will not shrink from hardship, however perilous the road ahead.

But those who walk the mortal world are often too deeply attached. Some things simply must be done, though fate delights in toying with mortals. Wounds of the body are nothing; the greatest pain is heartbreak.

He tucked the Nameless Blade into his sash, gathered his internal power, and swam for the surface like a fish.

A youthful head, spirited yet tender, broke through the waves. Luo Changning sighed softly and made for Qingyang County. With newfound strength, he could easily swim the distance to shore.

Though he had never studied advanced cultivation methods and could not wield his power externally, his inner strength was not without use: it granted him might. Where once he could lift a hundred pounds with one hand, now four or five hundred would be easy.

Letting his power flow through his twelve meridians, he lessened the strain of swimming and fatigue—so much so that even the roughest waves posed little challenge.

At last, he returned to Qingyang County. Standing on the beach, gazing at the vast sea, Luo Changning's eyes darkened. Before I have the power for true vengeance, perhaps I shall first hone my skills on the Sage Martial Hall.

He had never done evil, but neither would he repay enmity with virtue, as if nothing had happened.

In the martial world, vengeance and gratitude are repaid with swift action—not from pettiness, but from true passion, the hot blood of heroes.

He was three streets from the Su family’s small courtyard; his clothes were mostly dry. It was long past time for lunch, and, not wanting to worry his aunt, Luo Changning quickened his pace—only to be called back.

He turned to see his master standing at the street corner. For two years, his master had always worn a cloak and mask; Luo Changning had never seen his face.

"Master, what are you doing here?"

The man folded his hands behind his back, his voice hoarse. "I have come to bid you farewell. Today I leave Qingyang County. From now on, you must walk your own path. I have nothing left to teach you. Still... we shall meet again one day."

"Farewell, Master. I will not slack in my training." Luo Changning had known this day would come, but not so soon. Still, his master was right—vengeance must rely on oneself.

"Good." The man turned to go, then paused, his eyes dark under the mask. "You have opened your twelve meridians?"

"Master, I took a Meridian-Cleansing Pill." Luo Changning hesitated, not telling the truth. He knew not everything could be shared, some things he kept even from his aunt.

Not that he distrusted his master, but today’s events were too strange, the reasons unclear even to himself.

His master nodded, asked nothing further, and strode away.

"Take care, Master!" Luo Changning scratched his head and hurried home. Though reluctant to see his master go, he knew he could not make him stay. Perhaps, beyond this small county, his master would find greater prospects—perhaps even break through to the innate realm.