The Famous Sword Quelling Evil
"I think Feng Jiuyou and Lu Beichen are somewhat similar," Bai Roushuang remarked as the group, having achieved their vengeance, prepared to accompany Xu Shulou and the others back to Xuanxuan Academy to apologize to the injured students. Along the journey, the members of the Xuanji Sect surrounded Xu Shulou, expressing endless gratitude. Only after they dispersed did Bai Roushuang finally squeeze forward to speak with her senior sister.
"What?"
"Of course, I’m not saying Senior Brother Lu is as wicked as Feng Jiuyou," Bai Roushuang quickly clarified. "But there’s a certain quality about them... It makes me feel that if no one could restrain Senior Brother Lu, he might one day become the next Feng Jiuyou. Perhaps even more terrifying, since he’s diligent in cultivation and doesn’t waste his thoughts solely on love and romance."
"..."
"Maybe I’m overthinking it," Bai Roushuang chuckled at her own wild imagination before Xu Shulou could respond. "By the way, where’s Second Senior Brother?"
———
In the mortal realm, Song Ping retraced his steps from the previous night and arrived at the wealthy household from which the infant had been taken. Beside him stood the maidservant he had encountered in the phoenix territory, now cradling the child in one arm while knocking on the door with the other.
With Feng Jiuyou and Qi Wutong dead, she was naturally free. As Song Ping accompanied her on this journey, a faint smile lingered on her face, lifting his spirits as well.
The young woman was named Sheng Wuyou, hailing from Yunzhou City. After learning her name and hometown, Song Ping intended to escort her back. However, she proved remarkably reasonable, insisting he prioritize returning the child first: "I’ve been away from home for ten years—a few more hours won’t matter. But this child was taken just last night, and his family must be heartbroken."
Sure enough, the servant who answered the door let out a cry of shock and joy upon seeing the infant in her arms: "Master! Madam! It’s the young master! The young master has returned!"
Moments later, a flurry of footsteps erupted from within as a crowd rushed out. The man at the forefront trembled as he took the child into his arms, disbelief written across his face: "Yi'er! It’s really Yi'er!"
The lady of the house, however, was absent—she had fainted from overwhelming emotion.
Song Ping found himself surrounded, forced to explain that he was not the kidnapper. He recounted the full story, and when the names Feng Jiuyou and Qi Wutong were mentioned, the man gasped in astonishment: "The legendary Immortal Venerable Jiuyou and Divine Maiden Wutong from the storytellers’ tales—how could they be connected to our family?"
Song Ping and Sheng Wuyou exchanged glances. Six hundred years had passed, and the descendants of this family no longer knew the reason for the curse—only that the eldest child of each generation would inevitably be taken, no matter how many guards were hired or where they hid. Today marked the first time a stolen child had ever been returned. At this point, the family patriarch broke down in tears.
The entire household showered them with gratitude, even kneeling in thanks. Song Ping and Sheng Wuyou hurriedly helped them back up.
The man swore angrily that he would burn every romance novel about Feng Jiuyou and Qi Wutong he could find and hire storytellers to spread the truth. He even proposed erecting a shrine in honor of Song Ping and Sheng Wuyou.
Song Ping waved his hands in refusal: "If you must, dedicate it to my senior sister—Xu Shulou."
The man readily agreed and then hesitantly added: "There’s one more matter I must trouble you with. I had an elder brother who was also taken as a child. Our mother’s health has been failing in recent years, and her only wish is to see him again before she passes. Might you know where he is?"
"I do have some clues," Sheng Wuyou replied thoughtfully. "I once overheard an old attendant mention that the previous child taken wasn’t to Qi Wutong’s liking and was eventually sent to a rural area near Luozhou." She glanced apologetically at Song Ping. "But the details are incomplete, and tracking him down may take some time."
The family’s faces lit up with hope. After some discussion, Song Ping sent a letter to his senior sister, explaining that he would stay behind to help with the search and return later.
———
At Xuanxuan Academy, the injured from the small secret realm had all been treated and were now lively as ever. They showed little interest in Chu Fu’s apologies, instead clamoring for details on how Feng Jiuyou had been slain.
Chu Fu, amused and exasperated, delegated the storytelling to a particularly eloquent disciple.
When the tale reached the part about the real and fake Qi Wutong, the audience gasped in shock. Everyone had witnessed Feng Jiuyou’s fierce protectiveness over Qi Wutong at Qingcheng Sect—who would have guessed it was all for an imposter? The students burned with curiosity about how Feng Jiuyou would have treated the fake Qi Wutong had they both survived. This very question later spawned a popular genre of storytelling in the mortal realm, but that was a tale for another time.
Then came the moment when Xu Shulou, ignoring the risk of backlash, drove her sword straight through Feng Jiuyou. The crowd sucked in a collective breath. Even Chu Fu, looking back, had to admit Xu Shulou’s recklessness—most people would at least hesitate before attacking under such conditions, but she had charged in without a second thought. A true warrior.
Rash? Absolutely. But undeniably satisfying.
As his thoughts wandered, the storytelling reached its conclusion. The students turned to Xu Shulou, erupting into applause. By now, they all knew that their fellow student, Number One Hundred Twenty-One, was none other than the legendary Xu Shulou of Dustless Island. It wasn’t the two female cultivators she had rescued who revealed her identity—after the spectacle at Qingcheng, anyone with a bit of curiosity could easily uncover who she was.
"All in a day’s work," Xu Shulou responded humbly to the cheers and praise.
Among the crowd, her followers swelled with pride at having aligned themselves with such a formidable leader. Meanwhile, the Thirty-third Young Master—who had once been beaten by her and later failed in his attempt to scheme against her—hunched his shoulders, desperately trying to avoid her notice.
Around him, a group of ten others mirrored his posture, their heads nearly touching their chests. The Thirty-third Young Master glanced to his left and nearly choked on his irritation: "Why are you all bowing your heads? She didn’t even realize you were helping me ambush her in the secret realm that day!"
"The one on your right is even stranger," the young man to his left muttered, nodding subtly in that direction. The Thirty-third Young Master turned to see his friend on the right standing tall, eyes gleaming as he stared at Xu Shulou, completely out of sync with the group’s collective gloom.
"You—"
The friend turned to him, eyes sparkling with determination: "I’ve decided—I’m going to pursue Xu Shulou!"
The entire group jerked their heads up so fast they nearly gave themselves whiplash: "Have you lost your mind?!"
The Thirty-third Young Master hurriedly intervened: "I’ve already given up on revenge—don’t stir up more trouble."
"I said I’m pursuing her. When did I say anything about revenge?"
A female cultivator who had once provoked Xu Shulou frowned. "We know you. You’ve always had a habit of chasing after challenging women, only to lose interest once you’ve won them over. How is that any different from revenge?"
The male cultivator numbered Twenty-Nine in the academy was the most flirtatious among their group, always surrounded by admirers and leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. After studying alongside Xu Shulou for several months, he had never once considered her as a potential conquest, assuming her to be merely a "poor female cultivator of humble origins." But now that he knew her true identity as Xu Shulou of Dustless Island, his interest was piqued—not because of who she was, but because he saw her as a challenge, a way to conquer the reputation of "Xu Shulou of Dustless Island."
"Take a lesson from my mistakes—that’s Xu Shulou," the Thirty-third Young Master muttered. "Whether you’re trying to get revenge or pursue her, I think you’re insane."
"You don’t understand," Twenty-Nine replied. "With a strong-willed, proud woman like her, you can’t meet force with force. You have to use softness to overcome hardness. I have a plan—just wait and see."
Unable to dissuade him, the Thirty-third Young Master could only offer sincere condolences: "Brave soul, may you walk in peace."
———
Xu Shulou remained unaware that she had once again become the subject of a fellow student’s schemes. She had been summoned by several teachers for a private meeting. As soon as she stepped outside, Master Zhou handed her a brocade pouch.
"This is the reward for the trial in the minor secret realm. Strictly speaking, you weren’t the one who lasted the longest, but you saved many of your fellow students," Master Zhou explained. "After deliberation, we decided you deserve the top prize."
Xu Shulou accepted it without protest, opening the pouch to reveal a translucent, smooth orb. "A Spirit-Gathering Pearl?"
Teacher Xue, standing nearby, stroked his beard and chuckled. "You certainly know your treasures."
The Spirit-Gathering Pearl could store spiritual energy up to the holder’s own capacity. Cultivators could gradually fill it with their own power, then draw upon it in times of crisis when their reserves ran dry. It was an invaluable artifact—practitioners would never sell it, no matter how desperate for funds. Truly a priceless treasure.
Xu Shulou bowed slightly. "My thanks, honored teachers."
"No need for formalities," Master Zhou said with a smile. "Ah, Teacher Li has something to say to you."
Having previously declared in front of his colleagues that he wasn’t particularly fond of this student, Teacher Li now seemed awkward. "M-Miss Xu."
"You may call me by my name," she replied.
Teacher Li cleared his throat. "That day at the Qingcheng Sect, I saw your sword. It looked familiar, as if I’d seen its likeness in ancient texts. Would you mind telling us its name?"
Xu Shulou smiled. "There’s no harm in it. My sword is called Quexie."
"The legendary Quexie Sword?!" The teachers’ expressions shifted in astonishment. "To think such a blade is in your possession!"
Teacher Li fell into a brief reverie. "The Quexie Sword… it chose you. Do you know what that means?"
Xu Shulou ran her fingers along the hilt of her fan and lowered her gaze. "It means I bear the responsibility of protecting the world."
"..." Teacher Li was momentarily stunned, swallowing back the words he had intended to say—about glory, about how every wielder of Quexie had achieved greatness. Instead, he straightened and met her eyes solemnly. "You’re right. I was being narrow-minded."
Xu Shulou looked at him in mild confusion.
Teacher Li suddenly turned to his old friend, Teacher Xue, who specialized in swordsmanship. "What do you think?"
Teacher Xue burst into laughter and motioned for Xu Shulou to follow him. "Come with me."
Unsure of what they were plotting, Xu Shulou obeyed. This time, neither Teacher Li nor Master Zhou accompanied them.
"Do you know why we agreed to Qingcheng Sect’s invitation to teach here?" Teacher Xue led her down a corridor flanked by seas of clouds, their steps light as if treading upon the heavens themselves.
Xu Shulou shook her head honestly. Teacher Xue held an exalted position in the cultivation world—even Qingcheng Sect had been surprised when he accepted. Many of the noble disciples in Xuan Cang Academy had enrolled specifically to forge connections with teachers like him.
Teacher Xue paused in the quiet corridor. "We old men simply wish to see the cultivation world flourish."
Xu Shulou was silent for a moment before murmuring, "Your virtue is commendable, Teacher."
Teacher Xue studied her. "Truthfully, there’s little left for you to learn in my swordplay classes. I must consider the progress of the other students."
Xu Shulou nodded. Lately, she had been focusing more on spells and the academy’s library. Her swordsmanship had seen little improvement in recent months.
"But I do have a sword technique suited for you," Teacher Xue said, handing her a scroll. "Aside from the reasons I mentioned earlier, I came to the academy to find a successor for this art. It seems fortune favors me—I’ve found one in just a few months."
Xu Shulou unrolled the scroll. "The 'Sword of the Mortal World' manual!"
The technique was called "Sword of the Mortal World," embodying the ideal of a single blade delivering salvation to all living beings. Legend held that the Sword Immortal who ascended a thousand years ago—the one whose blade had frozen fourteen provinces under its frost—had mastered this very art.
"Bestow grace upon the world, let your sword bring salvation," Teacher Xue said solemnly. "This technique is immensely powerful. Paired with the Quexie Sword, you may soon become unstoppable. I only hope… you never stray from the righteous path."
Xu Shulou bowed deeply. "This disciple will not betray your trust."
