Chapter 1: A Sword’s Startling Appearance
“That fellow Daoist from just now… looked so much like my…”
Early winter. It happened to be a clear day after the snow had stopped, and Linjiang City was holding a rare, grand market.
The market square was bustling with people, and the area below the storyteller’s stage was especially crowded with onlookers taking a rest.
The storyteller took a sip of hot tea and lightly tapped his wooden block. “The story goes that during the Minghong era, the mortal realm was ravaged by demon gods. Life was plunged into misery, and the people could not live in peace.”
That earth-shattering Demon God Calamity remains the most talked-about topic among the common folk to this day.
The storyteller built up the atmosphere with his opening, and only after the audience below urged him to continue did he change his tone and slowly begin.
“But the immortals emerged in unison to save the world from the brink of collapse. Among them, the most powerful was, of course, the number one Sword Venerable in all the lands.”
The crowd’s interest was piqued. He cleared his throat and struck a dramatic pose.
“Legend says this Sword Venerable was a towering figure with the back of a tiger and the waist of a bear. Her eyes blazed like lightning, her frame as solid as a boulder. She wielded a greatsword weighing a thousand jin and was always accompanied by her beautiful soulmate…”
His tone was impassioned and stirring, infecting the audience, who burst into thunderous applause.
Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, a rather discordant sound suddenly broke the mood.
“Pfft—cough, cough, cough!”
It sounded like someone had choked on their food, and they couldn’t seem to stop.
Everyone turned to look disapprovingly at the source of the sound.
There, at a small wonton stall by the street, sat a woman dressed in simple, cuffed black robes, her long hair tied back in a neat ponytail.
Realizing she had made too much noise, she quickly lowered her head and whispered, “My apologies…”
The woman looked to be seventeen or eighteen years old. Her posture was straight and well-proportioned, like a stalk of green bamboo washed clean by the rain. Her features, however, could only be considered pretty.
But she had a pair of bright, spirited eyes that, even when her lashes were lowered, shone like the stars.
When the crowd saw that it was just a young fledgling who had just stepped out into the world, they found they couldn’t bring themselves to scold her.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Ning Ruoque’s earlobes gradually turned a faint red, and she wished she could bury her head in her bowl. It was hard to tell if it was from the choking or from embarrassment.
The old woman at the next table was struck with a sense of pity. “Miss, eat slowly. There’s no rush.”
Ning Ruoque mumbled a few replies and pulled the wonton bowl closer to herself.
Taking advantage of the moment when the audience turned back to the storyteller, she ignored the heat, picked up the bowl, and began swallowing the wontons one by one, planning to finish quickly and slip away.
The rumors about her in the mortal realm had already become this ridiculous.
She had always been alone. There was no “beautiful soulmate.”
This small interruption didn’t affect the storyteller’s performance in the slightest.
He beat his chest, stamped his feet, and let out long sighs, narrating the entire “Tale of the Nameless Sword Venerable Slaying Evil” with vivid emotion.
“The Sword Venerable was already at the half-step to ascension, unmatched in all the lands. Yet, the heavens do not pity heroes, and in the final battle, she perished along with the Demon God.”
“How tragic, how lamentable…”
To the cadence of the storyteller’s rhythmic chanting, Ning Ruoque morosely finished her wontons and gulped down half a bowl of hot soup.
She basked in the warm sun, closing her eyes to feel the abundant spiritual energy within her body. Only then did the reality of her “rebirth” feel more tangible.
Countless rumors about her circulated, a mix of truth and falsehood, but one thing was beyond doubt—
The Sword Venerable had long since fallen in that great war, not even her bones remained.
Ning Ruoque knew clearly that she should have died once already.
But half a month ago, she had mysteriously awoken in a dilapidated temple.
Not only had her cultivation plummeted to the Spirit Induction realm and her life-bound sword gone missing, but she also couldn’t find a single copper coin on her person.
At the Spirit Induction realm, one could not yet sustain oneself without food. She had lived like a savage in the mountains, surviving on poisonous mushrooms and unsalted roasted chicken, before finally finding her way to Linjiang City.
The few coins she earned from selling medicinal herbs were only enough for this one bowl of wontons.
Ning Ruoque touched her sleeve with a heavy heart. If she didn’t earn any money today, she would have to sleep on the streets!
She sighed once more, reluctantly holding the last half-bowl of wonton soup, planning to finish it and then head to the docks to find some short-term work.
But before her lips could touch the bowl’s rim, a scream tore through the crowd.
A commotion erupted around her. Laughter turned into anxious questions, and someone bumped into Ning Ruoque’s elbow while moving hastily.
Ning Ruoque’s eyelid twitched, but she held the bowl steady, her entire body unmoving.
She seized the moment to drink her soup.
“A living corpse!” someone shouted.
A wave of gasps followed, one after another. People pushed and shoved each other, and children began to wail.
The startled pedestrians were initially running in every direction, in complete disarray.
But in the end, they all miraculously moved to the sides of the road, clearing a path for the fleeing young girl and the ashen-skinned “person” behind her.
That person crawled on all fours like a lizard, moving with surprising speed. Its target was clearly the girl who was desperately trying to escape.
As the distance between them closed, the girl’s legs grew weak with fear. She stumbled and fell, hurtling straight toward Ning Ruoque.
Within a ten-meter radius, only Ning Ruoque remained.
Ning Ruoque happened to finish her soup just then. She deftly sidestepped, grabbing the girl’s shoulder and pushing her out of the way—
The living corpse was clumsy and couldn’t turn in time, crashing straight into the table.
But it felt no pain. After being stopped, it shook its head and continued to roar as it charged at the girl.
Everyone thought she was done for.
The girl thought so too. She had fallen to the ground and closed her eyes in despair.
But amidst the foul wind rushing toward her face, she heard a very, very soft sigh.
The next second, the living corpse was sent flying by something.
A dead silence fell over the area. No one present had yet processed what had happened.
The girl timidly opened her eyes to see the living corpse lying among the tables and chairs in an extremely contorted position. It twitched a few times, then went still.
Its neck was nearly broken, connected only by a thin layer of skin and flesh, a testament to the immense strength of the person who had acted.
Ning Ruoque set down the long bench in her hands, then nudged a bowl that was teetering on the edge of the table further in.
She was a little frustrated, so she pressed her lips together, her brow slightly furrowed, giving her a somewhat stern appearance.
All she wanted was to eat a meal in peace. Why was it so difficult?
After a moment of tense silence, most people came to their senses, and an uproar ensued.
“My goodness, she killed the living corpse with a bench? She’s got some strength.”
“Perhaps this girl is a practitioner?”
“The city has been plagued by living corpses recently. I think it’s…”
A chorus of chattering voices rose, creating a noisy din.
Ning Ruoque disliked being scrutinized and stared at. She quickly found a gap in the crowd and turned to leave.
The girl was left behind, stunned and at a loss.
The discussion didn’t stop there. Even after Ning Ruoque had walked several steps away, someone behind her was still saying, “She’s a jinx! It’s because of her that the city is plagued by monsters.”
“Didn’t you notice? The living corpse just now was chasing her!”
Further back, the girl’s choked sobs could be heard.
Ning Ruoque had sharp hearing. Even from such a distance, she could still clearly hear the girl’s crying, intermittent and sorrowful, like a cold, damp, and lingering autumn rain.
But no one went to help her up.
The sword cultivator in black couldn’t help but sigh.
Though she was already far from the center of the conflict, she suddenly stopped. After tilting her head in thought for a few seconds, she turned and walked back.
“Miss, I’d advise you not to get involved,” an old woman said, seeing her intention and lowering her voice to persuade her. “You’re an outsider, so you probably don’t know, right? She’s a notorious jinx around here. Getting too close to her will bring you bad luck!”
Ning Ruoque smiled, unconcerned. Her dark eyes were clear and bright, seeming to illuminate the scenery around her.
“What a coincidence. I’m usually unlucky anyway, so I’m not afraid of that.”
Amidst the growing clamor of discussion, she strode over to the girl and, without a word, pulled her to her feet.
The girl froze, momentarily forgetting to struggle. She just let Ning Ruoque pull her by the sleeve, leading her away from the crowd.
Tear stains still marked her cheeks, and she stumbled as she walked, her breathing unsteady. But the back of the figure before her exuded an unyielding determination that left no room for her own confusion.
Gradually, the girl was able to keep up with Ning Ruoque’s pace, and the noisy voices were left behind.
She hesitated for a long while, wanting to speak but not daring to. Finally, she mustered enough courage, stopping in front of a quiet alley before abruptly kneeling.
Ning Ruoque turned to look at her and made a gesture to help her up, but the other party showed no intention of rising.
She had no choice but to let it be.
This young girl had an oval face and almond eyes. She was pretty, but far too thin. Like a poorly-grown stalk of bok choy in a field, withered and pitiful.
Meeting Ning Ruoque’s scrutinizing gaze, the girl quickly lowered her head and stammered, “Senior, you… you must be an immortal, right? Can you help me? Can you escort me to Qushui?”
She began to tremble uncontrollably. “I’ll… I’ll reward you.”
As if to prove her words, she fumbled in her sleeve pocket for a moment before eagerly holding her hand out to Ning Ruoque.
In her palm lay a vibrant green jade bracelet. Its quality was superb, as warm and smooth as water.
Ning Ruoque raised an eyebrow slightly.
An ordinary person might not know, but she could see the truth at a glance. This was no ordinary jade bracelet, but a protective artifact, and a high-quality one at that.
Before Ning Ruoque could answer, the girl produced a handful of loose silver and said in a panic, “The bracelet is a gift of gratitude. This money… this is a deposit for you, Senior.”
She was like someone clutching at their last straw, offering up her treasures in a desperate attempt to hold on.
The higher she held her hands, the lower she bowed her head. Her eyes and every movement were heavy with earnest hope.
Ning Ruoque let out a soft “tsk.”
She had made many enemies before her rebirth, but with the three-foot-long green-edged sword by her side, she had never feared anyone.
After her rebirth, her cultivation was destroyed and her sword was gone. Logically, she should be lying low, which was why she was using a disguise.
But the mortal realm was vast. How could she run into an acquaintance so easily?
Right now, she was just a poor sword cultivator who couldn’t even afford a proper meal.
After a moment of thought, Ning Ruoque picked up a piece of loose silver and tossed it in the air, a smile touching her lips.
“Deal!”
***
Not long after the two had left, the city guard in charge of security hurried over. They skillfully carried away the monster’s corpse for disposal, asking no questions.
For this small city, demonic calamities seemed to be a common occurrence.
And in the teahouse not far from the storyteller’s stage, a window had been open for some time.
The person seated inside had not removed her veiled hat, even indoors. She was dressed in white, like mourning clothes, and as the wind stirred the veil, a slender, frail figure could be vaguely seen.
She sat there casually, yet seemed to be separated from her surroundings by an invisible barrier, discouraging anyone from approaching her for conversation.
Only Qingtong, who sat opposite her, asked curiously, “Little Senior Sister, what are you looking at?”
After a moment of silence, Yin Buran said faintly, “It’s nothing. I just felt that the fellow Daoist from just now looked very much like an old acquaintance of mine.”
She lowered her eyes, her voice as light as a feather. “…Perhaps I was mistaken.”
Qingtong quickly handed her a cup of hot tea and then asked, “Brightlight Pavilion is getting impatient. Should we head back?”
Yin Buran extended a hand from behind the veil. Her wrist was slender, her knuckles distinct, and the back of her hand was excessively pale.
She took the cup and sipped from it without answering, her fingertips stroking the teacup absently.
Soon, the crowd of onlookers dispersed, and the chaotic street market was tidied up once more.
The storyteller stepped onto the stage, straightened his clothes, and called out again, “Don’t go anywhere, esteemed patrons! The best part is yet to come. The tale of love and hate between the Sword Venerable and her beautiful soulmate—you won’t want to miss it!”
Qingtong then saw Yin Buran abruptly set down her teacup and gaze intently out the window.
“Wait. I want to hear this.”
Qingtong: …
She was helpless against Yin Buran, so she could only stay and listen.
After listening for a while, Yin Buran coughed a few times, her breathing growing even weaker.
“Go and investigate for me. Find out the origins of the one who just saved that girl.”
Just as she finished giving the order, the storyteller struck his wooden block again. With a crisp smack, another act of the grand tale began.
This seems neat so far! We love amnesiac immortals