The Sword Ancestor Was Me, and I Was Hua; Waking from a Great Dream, Yet Forgetting Home

That voice...

It sounded rather old.

Yet it was full of vigor, powerful and piercing.

Xu Xiaoshou had never heard this voice before. He did not know its owner at all.

But that tone...

Who would dare call Hua Weiyang by his full name like that? Could this be his master? Then that would be...

At that thought, Xu Xiaoshou's heart began to burn.

He had not expected to meet the Sword Ancestor in such a peculiar way. And though it sounded absurd, just from the voice alone, he did not seem like a bad ancestor—more like an ordinary old man?

At the very least, he did not give off that sinister, chilling feeling one got simply from hearing titles like Evil God or Ghost Ancestor.

"A wooden hut..."

The wooden hut looked perfectly ordinary too.

How did it resemble the Thirty-Third Heaven of the Relics of the Gods, or Sui Yin upon the divine throne?

There was nothing solemn about this place. It felt like a schoolhouse. If the old master happened to be teaching swordsmanship inside the hut, could he perhaps sit in on the lesson?

Tap, tap, tap! Xu Xiaoshou quickened his pace. Chewing the dried grass in his mouth and gripping the peach branch at his waist, he swung his arms and jogged toward the wooden hut.

Sword God, here I come!

Wait for me. Don't start class until I get there!...

"Slap."

With one stride, he vaulted over the yellow wooden fence that could barely stop chickens and ducks. Before he could rush inside, something tugged at his sleeve.

"Senior Brother Weiyang!"

A low cry rang beside his ear.

Xu Xiaoshou whipped around. His vision blurred twice, and the overlapping figures took a moment to resolve into a thoroughly flustered face.

His features were sharply