As the sun set, Fang Jie left the library. He habitually smiled at the old man as he left, then walked out of the wooden building filled with books. Classes at the martial arts academy had long since ended, and students were chatting and laughing in small groups. When they saw Fang Jie, they were slightly surprised; some smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, while others pretended not to see him. Those who smiled back at Fang Jie, and those who ignored him, naturally didn't follow him.
Those who saw him but pretended not to, seemingly proud, were actually just displaying their inferiority complex.
Fang Jie first went to the horse farm, personally feeding the crimson horse before leaving. Since his imprisonment, the crimson horse had been kept at the martial arts academy, and because it hadn't had a chance to gallop freely for a while, it looked quite fat. He didn't plan to ride a horse; since his name had become increasingly renowned in Chang'an, he preferred to travel by carriage.
Riding a horse through the streets and greeting people took too much time. But ignoring everyone would inevitably invite accusations of aloofness and haughtiness.
On the way back to the shop, Fang Jie carefully recalled Qiu Yu's words. He then closed his eyes, sensing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The energy floated in the air, faint and ethereal. Without careful observation, this subtle difference was difficult to detect. Fang Jie knew this was because his thirty-six acupoints had only recently opened, and the spiritual energy he sensed couldn't compare to that of great cultivators.
But this was a good start, and what pleased him most was that the hidden danger within his body had been eliminated. If it weren't for this excruciating pain and unconsciousness, he wouldn't have known that a bunch of disgusting worms were lurking inside his body. Although he hadn't seen them with his own eyes, he could imagine how repulsive they were from Shen Qingshan and Qiu Yu's descriptions.
The worms' toxicity was unimaginable, capable of corroding even hard blue bricks. And these things had been hidden in his body for over sixteen years—the thought alone was terrifying.
Thinking of this, he naturally thought of Prince Yang Qi. What methods did he use that night to change his constitution? Or was it simply his natural constitution, and Yang Qi merely suppressed the poison? If it was the latter, then Yang Qi might know the origin of the poison.
Thinking of this, his eyes suddenly lit up.
Fang Jie lifted the curtain and instructed the driver to go directly to Hongxiuzhao. He suddenly remembered that his first meeting with Yang Qi was at Hongxiuzhao, and he could feel that Yang Qi's gaze towards him was somewhat strange back then. And Yang Qi had gone to see Xi Huamei that time; perhaps Xi Huamei knew something.
The carriage traveled along the smooth bluestone road, and the slightly swaying carriage made it easy to doze off. Just as Fang Jie was about to fall asleep, his hand touched the Morning Dew Blade beside him, and the intense coldness of it jolted him awake.
Picking up the long, unsheathed blade, Fang Jie liked it more and more. He loved using swords and had no interest in any other weapons. Young masters of noble families often favored the spear, because its extremely high cost made it a symbol of status, unaffordable for ordinary people. Fang Jie, however, disliked the spear; it was too long and lacked dexterity. Moreover, mastering the spear required diligent practice from a young age, and beginners couldn't effectively utilize its power. A wooden stick would suffice. But a knife was different. Anyone holding a knife knew how to use it, though mastering it was far from easy.
A thin layer of moisture clung to the blade of the Morning Dew Knife. Fang Jie even wondered if, under the strong summer sun, he might see a small rainbow on the blade if he looked closely. His love for the knife was boundless. Reaching the entrance of the Red Sleeve Pavilion, Fang Jie wrapped the Morning Dew Knife in cloth and carried it through the main gate.
It was evening, and the Red Sleeve Pavilion was at its busiest. Those coming and going were all dressed in fine clothes, greeting each other warmly. Fang Jie lowered his head slightly and quickly went inside. Upon entering, he saw the old cripple sleeping on a bench in the corner. He smiled, walked over, and placed the Morning Dew Blade against the old cripple's chest.
The chill startled the old cripple, who sat up abruptly, glanced at Fang Jie, and then looked at the object in his arms.
"What is this?"
He asked.
"A blade."
Fang Jie replied.
The old cripple frowned slightly, got up, picked up the blade, and walked towards the backyard. Fang Jie followed behind. Once in the backyard, the old cripple uncovered the cloth, and his expression changed.
"Morning Dew?"
He asked.
Fang Jie countered, "You know it?"
The old cripple's expression was very unpleasant. For some reason, Fang Jie saw a hint of disgust in his eyes. The old cripple examined the Morning Dew Blade carefully, finally letting out a long sigh: "Do you know about the Three Blades and Three Swords of the martial world?"
"No."
Fang Jie shook his head.
The old cripple handed the Morning Dew Blade to Fang Jie, found a place to sit down, and said, "No wonder, how many people these days remember things from decades ago? When I was young, there were three renowned blades in the martial world: Red Sleeve, Morning Dew, and Spring Breeze. And three precious swords: Bloodstained, Thread Throat, and One-Foot Nail."
"These six weapons are the most precious treasures of the martial world. My Blood Butcher's Blade… was severed by this Morning Dew Blade in your hand."
Upon hearing this, Fang Jie couldn't help but think to himself, "No wonder." No wonder the old cripple recognized the blade at first sight, no wonder there was disgust in his eyes.
"This is an ominous blade."
The old cripple sighed, seemingly recalling some past.
...
...
"Since the Morning Dew Blade was created, it has served six masters… You are the seventh, the first six are all dead."
The old cripple took a sip of wine. Fang Jie shook his head: "I'm the eighth. This knife was a gift from Prince Yi. I don't know how many years it's been hidden in his mansion, but he's still alive and well."
The old cripple shook his head: "What kind of owner is someone who doesn't use this knife?"
He rolled his eyes at Fang Jie and said, "The first owner of this knife was Xu Kuangtu, who was also the forger of this Morning Dew Knife. This man was originally a blacksmith. I don't know where he got a piece of rare black iron, which he forged into a long knife and a short sword. The knife was the Morning Dew Knife, and the sword was a one-foot nail. Later, he traded the one-foot nail with a famous martial artist for a sword manual. From then on, he buried himself in diligent practice. After fifteen years, he actually mastered an unparalleled sword technique from the ordinary sword manual that the martial artist had tricked him out of."
"No one knows Xu Kuangtu's original name, but because of his arrogant and evil deeds, the name 'Kuangtu' became increasingly well-known. After he left the mountain, he challenged martial arts masters everywhere, and unexpectedly, he won every battle. Gradually, the name 'Kuangtu One-Sword' became famous throughout the martial arts world." "His story gradually became known. Everyone said he obtained the peerless sword and its unparalleled swordsmanship by chance, but in reality, he forged the sword himself, and the sword manual was nothing but a worthless piece of writing."
"Later, he curbed his bloodlust and planned to start a sect, but for some reason, he suddenly went mad. Wielding the Morning Dew Sword, he killed hundreds in one night, finally slitting his own throat. After that, the Morning Dew Sword disappeared without a trace, only reappearing in the martial world more than ten years later. The second person to wield the Morning Dew Sword, like Xu Kuangtu, first achieved fame, then suddenly went mad for some unknown reason, killing and then committing suicide."
The old cripple paused and continued, "It's called an ominous sword because its first six owners all met the same end. First madness, then suicide... If you listen to me, it's best not to use this evil thing. The Blood Slaughtering Sword I gave you, although not as hard and sharp as the Morning Dew Sword, is at least clean!"
"Mysterious Iron..."
Fang Jie murmured, suddenly remembering something.
In his past life, he knew that the ancients, upon obtaining meteorites of unknown origin, called them "mysterious iron," and the metal refined from them was far harder than ordinary steel. If this Morning Dew Blade was also forged from meteorite iron, then it might contain some radiation, and those who carried it for a long time might eventually go insane, perhaps due to this radiation.
However, this showed that it wasn't advisable to carry this blade around for extended periods.
But just as he thought of this, his heart suddenly tightened.
Could Prince Yi, Yang Yin, not know the origin of this Morning Dew Blade? He gave it to him; was it truly just to win him over?
Fang Jie's mind sank. If the rumors about the Morning Dew Blade were true, would he, too, go insane and commit suicide years later? What was Prince Yi's true intention? If he wasn't habitually harming people, then he was doing it intentionally.
Seeing Fang Jie's unusual expression, the old cripple remained silent for a moment before saying, "However, this Morning Dew Blade has disappeared from the martial world for twenty or thirty years. It might still be in Prince Yi's hands. It hasn't seen blood in so many years; perhaps its malevolent energy has dissipated. You should handle it yourself. Avoid killing if possible. If you let the blade's evil energy cloud your judgment, it won't be worth it."
"I understand," Fang Jie replied, handing the blade to the old cripple. "I need to go upstairs to ask Aunt Xi about something."
"What is it?"
The old cripple asked.
Fang Jie thought for a moment that the old cripple might already know, so he sat down and explained that he had been poisoned by a Gu venom. He knew the old cripple wouldn't spread it around, so he didn't hide anything. He said what needed to be said and kept silent about what shouldn't be said. After listening, the old cripple frowned deeply, and after a long while, he sighed and said, "Nine times out of ten, it's the Gu poison of the Southern Barbarians."
"When I was young, I personally killed a sorcerer from the Southern Barbarians. That guy had killed many people. He even dared to openly establish a sect in the Central Plains, deceiving people by saying that he cultivated the Corpse Demon Manual, which made them invulnerable to swords and spears, and impervious to hidden weapons. Many young people fell for his tricks and were infected with Gu poison. Later, when the matter came to light, a group of heroes from the martial arts world came to punish him. Although I wasn't one of them..." He was a chivalrous man, but he also loathed such methods. His friend invited him to go along.
"It was a fierce battle. Those puppet soldiers were truly impervious to swords and spears, very difficult to kill. The martial artists initially suffered considerable losses, with many dying. Later, after I and a few others broke through the puppet soldiers and captured the sorcerer, he could no longer control the puppets, and we won the battle. At that time, I chopped off the sorcerer's head with a single stroke… You can't imagine how disgusting it was. The blood spurting from the sorcerer's neck was incredibly black, and a…" "A centipede a foot long!"
The old cripple seemed still shaken, remaining silent for a moment before continuing, "From then on, anyone in the martial world who saw a southern barbarian, regardless of whether they were a sorcerer or not, would kill them. After killing so many, those southern barbarians dared not set foot in the Central Plains again. It is said that the last emperor of the Shang Dynasty was fond of this practice, keeping many sorcerers in the palace. The last prince to escape was protected by puppet soldiers commanded by a sorcerer, breaking through the Sui army's encirclement. But later, that prince named Murong Chi established the Southern Yan..." "The first one they killed was that sorcerer. He had all the puppet soldiers thrown into a large pit, doused with cooking oil, and burned to ashes."
Fang Jie listened intently, then after a moment of silence, asked, "Do you know how the sorcerer manipulated the puppets? Did Aunt Xi mention it to you? Did the Prince say anything to her?"
The old cripple thought for a moment and said, "Although I don't know if the Prince mentioned you to Aunt Xi, I do know a little about this Gu poison… Do you know that the Buddhist sect has three thousand monks who are said to have indestructible golden bodies?"