I could not help but feel a jolt in my heart. Sword Lord Tasting Blades was the sect master of the Square-Inch Sword Dao, which was already something I found utterly baffling. After all, according to his own description, he should have been nothing more than a drunkard when he became sect master. The Drunken Sword had already taken shape by then, so his temperament certainly should not have changed.
Yet now, his temples were white, and he looked to be in his fifties or sixties. His eyes were calm and seasoned, carrying the bearing of a grandmaster. Could Sword Lord Tasting Blades have had some kind of nightmare this time, causing the plot that should have unfolded here to turn in another direction? Or was some sort of altered memory manifesting before me?
But everything before my eyes was incomparably real. Whether it was the disciples one after another, Sword Lord Tasting Blades himself, or the little girl's every glance and smile, I had no choice but to admit that this dream was far too real—as if it were another world entirely.
"You want him to teach you?" Sword Lord Tasting Blades asked with a frown. The girl immediately nodded. "Then let Senior Brother teach me."
Seeing her unwavering determination, Sword Lord Tasting Blades glared at me and said, "Very well. You need someone to keep an eye on you, so you don't spend all day trying to sneak drinks! From today onward, Xian'er is your junior sister. As her senior brother, you'll be responsible for her studies. If she fails to learn properly, I won't punish her—I'll punish you instead."
I froze for a moment. Several disciples immediately nudged me, signaling for me to accept. But Sword Lord Tasting Blades swept his sleeve and strode toward the mountain.